Wrong

He watched as she rose from sleep like a slut picking murder from her teeth while fornication clung to the tangles in her hair. Never had he been so disgusted by something so beautiful. He could smell the pungent stench of day old booze and cigarettes on her breath as she greeted him.
“Good Morning Shane. What a dreadfully unpleasant surprise it is to see you.”
She half stretched over the pile of dingy pillows and grabbed for a cigarette butt in the ash tray.
“Smoking will kill you,” Shane said as he held out a pack of opened Marlboros to the girl, “and it’s no longer morning.” She reached forward and slid one from the pack, lit it and fell back onto the pile of pillows inhaling deeply.
A stream of light forced its way through the sheet covered windows of the 7th Street Motel. Tiny particles of dust gracefully danced within its glow. It was noon on a Tuesday. “So,” the girl said through exhaled smoke, “not that I care, but I guess I must ask, what brings you here? Your unwelcomed visits are so few these days.”
“Well, unfortunately, I need your help with something,” Shane confessed with an air of defeat on his breath.
“Well that, my dear, is obvious. Where did you get that god awful suit anyway? Burlington?”
The girl was always arrogant, he thought to himself, especially when she felt she was needed, and even more so when she felt she was needed by him. It used to be intriguing, but he ignored her jab at his good taste. With a raised eyebrow he directed her, “Get dressed. Let’s go.”
She shot him a disapproving look and rolled back the covers. As she snubbed the cigarette out on the side of her nightstand he couldn’t help but notice the bite marks on her bare shoulder. A feeling rose up inside of him, but he couldn’t discern if it...

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...d the corner and pulled into the precinct. A great feeling of fear began to bubble in the pit of her stomach. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” she asked, “I mean really Shane, I didn’t know we would be coming here.” The fear turned to intense anxiety. She needed a fix. “This is insane. I can’t go in there!” After all, she hadn’t seen these people since she lost her job and herself all those years ago. Well, unless they were patrolling 7th Street that is.
Shane calmly walked around the front of the patrol car, one hand in his trouser pocket, and opened her door. He gently took her by the wrist and led her out of the car. She protested, “No Shane, really, I want to help you, I will help you, but I am not going in there.” Shane slapped the cuffs on her wrist and said, “Yes, I’m afraid you are.” with a slight look of hatred on his face.