The Disposables Read Online Free PDF

thousand dollars, a red-hot parole violation. Again the knock, more urgent this time. “Open up, police.”
    Police? Ben Drury, State parole, right? Not the police, it can’t be the police.
    I tossed the wad of bills in a waist-high fake oriental vase with silk flowers, next to the entertainment center, and shoved it down its throat. I went to the door, took in a deep breath, and opened it.
    A big hand shoved my chest. I stumbled backward and almost fell. The hand came in attached to the thug cop I’d only recently met out in front of Mr. Cho’s store. The cop who’d kicked me in the face. The cop whose nose was red and swollen three times its normal size from the roundhouse I’d given him.

Chapter Six
    The thug cop had run a check on me, found out about the parole, called Ben Drury at home, got him out of bed early on a Sunday to come out for a little get-even time. Back in the day, as a young and full-of-testosterone copper, it wouldn’t have been out of the realm of something I would have done. The parole tail on me gave him the balls to overlook Robby Wicks’s warning.
    The thug said, “Morning, Mr. Bruno Johnson. We’re here on a routine home check.”
    I looked over at Ben, who looked away. No doubt, the thug had something on Ben.
    â€œNice digs you got here, Mr. Johnson. How can a piece of shit like you, who works at a chickenshit little hole-in-the-wall grocery store, afford a place like this?” He kept walking, shoving me on my chest until I was back at the couch and sat down hard.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Chantal came from the hall, her eyes a little more alert from the adrenaline, her nipples poking straight out of her nightgown like a couple of number two Black Warrior pencil erasers. The thug cop moved closer to her for a better view, lust apparent on his shovel face.
    His sudden change in behavior, from aggressive to ogling, stopped her cold. “Mr. Drury, who is this? He has no right to come into my home.”
    â€œJust calm down, Ms. Sykes, he’s a deputy with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. His name’s John Mack, and he does have a right to be here.”
    â€œChantal,” I said, “I’m sorry.”
    Mack made no effort to hide his ogle as he kept his stark, blue eyes locked onto her breasts.
    Chantal crossed her arms on her chest. “If you say so, Mr. Drury, that’s fine. I trust your discretion. I’m not happy about it, but I’ll go along. For now.”
    â€œFor now?” Mack said, “Who do you think you are? You uppity little nig—”
    Drury stepped in between them and pointed a finger at Mack, looking him in the eye as he addressed Chantal, “We’re sorry for the intrusion this morning. I promise this won’t take long.”
    â€œHow can we help you, Mr. Drury, to get you out of here sooner?”
    He turned back to face her. “I heard some disturbing news about Bruno. I came over to make sure everything was okay.”
    â€œIs that right? Exactly what did you hear?”
    â€œHe had a run-in with the police last night. He slugged one.”
    Chantal looked at Mack, and brought her hand up to her mouth, stifling a smile. “Oh, really, who could that be?”
    Mack’s gaze snapped off her breasts, his expression instantly transformed to ugly. He took two quick steps toward her. I jumped up to stop him. He pivoted and shoved me back down on the couch. Chantal brought her fists up to defend herself as her eyes flared. She had grown up in Nickerson Gardens and knew how to defend herself.
    â€œHold it. Hold it,” Ben yelled. “Let’s everyone just calm down.”
    Mack looked at Chantal, his expression softening.“Heynow, lookee here, the arrest gods have shined down on me this lovely Sunday morn. It looks as if our lovely lady is smacked back. She’s under the influence.” He reached to grab her wrist. She jerked