Flash Fiction: Spin Cycle

First drafted on Typetrigger.

 

Laundromat Photo

 

Those dark grey eyes glared at me. He was nothing but a wispy mustache drooped over thin lips. “So, what’s your next move?”
I gripped the woman tighter, pulled her to cover my person.
The cop lowered his gun and tucked it into his holster.
“Son, you don’t want to do anything stupid now,” he held out his hands and took a step forward.
I stepped back towards several washing machines in spin cycle.
She was in tears. “Let me go. Please..”
The barrel of my gun burrowed into her skull.
I spat at the floor. “You don’t know what I want.”
The cop pointed outside at his car. “You know more of my buddies are going to show up. And some of them ain’t as calm as myself. Let’s settle this now, make sure everyone walks away happy.” He smiled. “So what do you want?”
“I want her.”
“You know I can’t let you son.”
“I ain’t your son.”
“She clearly doesn’t want to go with you.”

“She’s MY girlfriend.”

“WAS your girlfriend,” Leah sobbed.
“Leah, you love me,” I said.
“You need to move on Neil.”
I pressed the gun in further. “If I can’t have you, no one can.”

The cop took another step. I cocked the trigger and he stopped mid-stride.
“Not another step!” I shouted.

Hot tears fell down my cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away, but my hands were otherwise occupied. I buried my face into her auburn hair.

In a second I was on the floor, my pistol flung across the room. The mustache mere inches from my face. He pinned me down. I struggled, but he held me down good.
He turned to Leah. “Mam, I suggest you go now.”
Her hair a mess, she nodded and ran out of the laundromat.

With my hands held down I lifted my fingers trying to reach her.

“It’s over kid,” the mustache wobbled. “She’s MINE now.”

 

 

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