At first he didn’t mind they were taking their time. It’d given him enough to figure out his reflexes if things went bad – figure out whether or not he would wave the gun at them regardless. There was the rum too. That felt good. And after a while, he realized he wanted more. Eventually he stood up and went to the window. He could see his car from there. His car and the cop car. COP CAR??? Skarzy’s jaw fell to the floor. What the fuck is that doing there? How long’s it been there? HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN JUST SITTING HERE??? Skarzy went for the door. Locked. Set up. Fucking rich pricks. He could hear them now too. Coming up the stairs. Would they come in shooting? Did they know he had a gun? Skarzy picked up the clock radio and tossed it at the window. Not hard enough. Barely made a crack. Outside the door: “Shit! He knows!” “Quickly, open it!” Skarzy went for the bed. Picked up the revolver. Fired it at once at the window. “He shooting at us!” “YOU’RE FUCKED NOW, TERRENCE!!!”
