Chapter Eleven
Rogue
“Ugh,” I groaned, trying to roll over, only to flinch when I almost rolled right off the couch. “Shit.”
I’d been out all night and didn’t get back till morning, and Claire had already gone to work when I got back. Which was just as well, because I didn’t want to hear her nagging at me. It was stupid for me to get drunk, even I knew that, but it was either that, or I would have screamed at her. Or held her down in her bed and made her beg.
That last thought made me sigh, and I squinted my eyes open.
I’d been drinking for too fucking long, and the joint I went to didn’t close till around eight this morning, and I was drinking up to that time, so I was technically still drunk and not hung over just yet. I didn’t know how long I’d been home for, but I’d dropped to the couch to shut my eyes for a moment because I was feeling tired and fucking exhausted.
I dragged my body off the couch and headed for the kitchen to get some water to drink. Then I’d sleep and wake up whenever I started to feel human once again.
After getting my water, I was about to head to bed, when there was a knock on the door. I paused, wondering if I just heard things when the sound came again.
I was almost shocked sober. Considering Claire’s personality, it surprised me that someone would come to visit her. Did she even have friends? As far as I knew, all she ever did was work, and even after three years, it was hard to believe that had changed. I turned back to go open the door and see who it was. If it were her, she wouldn’t have been knocking in the first place.
When I opened the door, on the opposite side was a woman in her early thirties, just a bit older than Claire, dressed in a black pants suit. She had dark hair, and her matching dark eyes paired with her blank expression made her seem a little intimidating.
“Do you need something?” I asked. “If it’s Claire you’re looking for, she’s at work.”
I wanted her gone quickly so I could get back to bed. The cold shoulder that I’d had from Claire would have led me to flirt with her, but there was one problem - she wasn’t my type. She seemed a lot like the Claire I’d known for the past several years, all serious and no fun, but the Claire from the other night was far from serious.
“Rogue Rest?” the woman said, folding her arms. “I’m here for you.”
I squinted my eyes at her face. I didn’t think I knew her from anywhere, so who the hell was she and why was she looking for me? Wait…
“You are…” I let my voice trail off as I came to a realization.
“Your new parole officer,” the woman said.
No way. My heart filled with dread as I looked at the no-nonsense woman before me. I should have expected something like this to happen eventually, but I didn’t think my cop babysitter would change. The other one was at least useful in a lot of different ways.
“What happened to Kathleen?” I asked, feeling an early headache coming on.
The woman sighed. “You don’t need to worry about her. I am Ms. Bent. Have you been drinking Mr. Rest? You don’t need to answer that. I can smell the alcohol on your breath.”
Shiiit.
This was bad in a lot of ways. This Ms. Bent looked like one of those hard-asses that I never got along with, even worse than Claire. I didn’t see this relationship working out at all, especially for me, but it wasn’t like I had the right to decline it, either.
I felt like my chances of getting tossed back to jail were getting higher.
“I have,” I said bluntly, because there was no point in lying, anyway. She was right; I reeked of booze since I’d practically been swimming in it since last night.
“I can have you thrown back inside in an instant, Mr. Rest,” she said, her words a clear threat even though the tone didn’t change. “I’ll give you a warning this once, but I better not find you this wasted a second time or my bosses will be getting word, you hear me?”
The worst part was that I couldn’t read her. She kept her tone bland and her expression never shifted, though I thought I saw some disdain for me held in her dark eyes. But I didn’t doubt that she would do the things she said and that she could make life hard for me. It looked like I had to be extra careful with a while.
“I didn’t think she would be here at this time of day, but I wanted to see Claire. I need to know what I’m up against as your new officer, and I figured I’d have better luck with her than with you.”
“Then why did you stop by here?”
“Because I’d hoped you’d make things easier for yourself. But who knew you’d end up doing something this stupid so soon.”
I held back a sneer, but I so wanted to put this bitch down.
What the fuck happened to Kathleen? Was she angry at me or something? Was it because I blew her off and left with Claire that day I got out of prison? Was she worried Claire would give her trouble or something, or was she just angry at me? I wished it would be possible to find her and ask her to take the position again, but I somehow didn’t think that was possible.
“Seriously, what happened to Kathleen?” I asked again, feeling that dread in my chest grows heavier.
“As I said, it’s nothing for you to worry about. I was assigned as your new patrol officer. After the last one quit.”
I was tired, my mind felt a bit hazy from all the alcohol, and having this woman speak down to me like I was still a teenage kid was kind of irritating. It was the only excuse for what I blurted out.
“She wasn’t good at sucking cock.”
Shit. This woman was dangerous. The last thing I should be doing was trying to provoke her. I should wish she would leave all ready to go and see Claire, and the two of them would get along like a house on fire and leave me alone entirely, but that was just wishful thinking.
Her expression still didn’t change much, but I thought I saw her face twitch a bit at my remark before she huffed.
“If it wasn’t for your father,” she said. “I would consider sending you back to where you belong right now, Rogue Rest.”
Dammit, is this really how low I’d fallen? I remembered how life had been three years ago. I didn’t gave a fuck about anything and did whatever I wanted. If someone gave me shit, I would give them a beat down and move on. Right then, though, I felt pathetic as this new officer of mine, who reminded me more of an old-school headmistress, said shit about me when I knew that I couldn’t speak back at her.
Not only because it would get me into trouble, but because there wasn’t anything I could dispute. Basically, as a convict, I was the lowest I could ever be in society.
Ms. Bent looked like she didn’t have more to say, and was about to turn around and leave. But I still had my pride, and I wouldn’t let her have the last word.
“I don’t do sympathy, Ms. Bent.”
She just ignored me and went on, and that didn’t feel good, either.
The day had only just started, and I felt exhausted and done with it already. After closing the door, I turned around to drink some water, then stop by the bathroom and then went to bed.