Biker's Virgin

“Alright. Good luck.”

I watched her until she closed her door, then I took out my phone to check it one last time. Still no word from Emerson. I felt like an idiot. There was nothing I could do about the situation, so I curled up on the sofa and turned on the TV. There was no point in trying to concentrate on studying. All I could do for the moment was simply distract myself.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Emerson

I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d paced the floor of a hospital waiting room. My grandmother had gone in for heart surgery. That was almost as nerve-wracking as waiting for the doctor to come out and give us some news about Dad’s procedure. Anne tried to keep my mind off it by asking about how school was going and other random questions. I figured it was as much for her own sanity as it was for mine, so I finally took a seat next to her and played along with her twenty questions.

When the doctor finally entered the private waiting area he assured us that the surgery had been successful and everything had gone exactly how they had hoped it would. It was reassuring to hear my dad would make a full recovery and be back to one hundred percent health in a matter of weeks. I couldn't wait to tell Brooke. I only hoped she didn’t try to text or call while I was gone and think I was ignoring her, especially after what had happened between us Sunday night.

I didn’t stick around as long as I would have liked after Dad’s surgery. I’d already missed two days of classes, and I didn’t need to miss a third. So, after he came out of his drug-induced stupor and before they could settle him back into another one, I talked to him for a few minutes and hit the road once his second round of pain meds kicked in.

It was around midnight when I got back into town. As I turned the last corner onto the road in front of my apartment building, flashing blue lights caught my attention. There were two police cars parked in front. We didn't see many cops in our area, so I hoped nothing bad had happened.

I pulled up to the curb and parked my bike, apprehensive and a little worried as I stretched my back. I walked up into the building, intending to drop off my backpack at my place and then see if Brooke was awake so that I could tell her the good news--and explain way I hadn't been able to contact her or be contacted for two days.

I opened the front door of my place and stepped in, dropping my bag as I did--and I imm

ediately froze. There were four cops standing in our living room, and Chris was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands. Ciara and a few of her friends were standing around looking guilty, as well.

One of the cops shone his flashlight in my face. “Well, well, well. You must be Emerson. Am I right?” he asked.

“Uh, yes sir, that's me,” I replied uneasily.

“At least this one has some manners,” he said as he glanced at one of the other officers in the room. “You and your roommate here have a regular ol' liquor store up in this apartment, don't ya?”

My blood ran cold. “Um, uh, I…” I stammered, not knowing what to say.

“I hope you're not going to try tell me all this alcohol in here 'isn't yours' or that you're 'keeping it for a friend' or some bullshit story like that. We hear that all the time, kid, so don't waste our time. Now, I'm gonna ask you this once, and you're gonna tell me the truth. Remember, it's a felony to lie to an officer of the law. Are you twenty-one years of age or older?”

My mouth went dry; I could hardly even talk to answer. “Um…”

“Well, son? Are you or are you not?”

“I'm not, sir.”

“Let me see your driver's license.”

I pulled my wallet from my back pocket, fumbled around in it with trembling fingers and pulled out my driver's license, and handed it to the cop. He took it, looked it over and nodded as he handed it back to me.

Another man in uniform came out of the kitchen holding a camera. He tapped on the side of the camera as he spoke. “Alright, boys, I've got all the evidence we need right here.” Obviously, he'd just taken pictures of our stash of beer and liquor. I felt like throwing up.

The cop who had spoken to me before shook his head. “You kids are in a lot of trouble. A lot. We take this kind of thing serious. Real serious.”

“What? I haven’t even been here for two days,” I muttered, looking at Chris in confusion.

“Well, you’re here now, son,” one of the officers said.

My body felt numb. It was almost as if I were watching it all happen to me from outside my body. Everything felt completely surreal. “Uh… what's gonna happen to us?” I asked.

“You and your buddy Chris here are gonna come down to the station with us. We're gonna charge you with possession of alcohol, and if you know what's best for you, you'll do what we say without protesting. Something tells me you'll cooperate with us. Won't you?”

I nodded. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good. You seem like a respectful young man, so we won't need to cuff you, right? You ain't gonna try nothing stupid like running, are ya?”

“No, sir. We'll cooperate,” I added