(Chase)
They tackled me behind the dumpsters. I didn’t even get the chance to look back. One second I was running, the next I was face down on the pavement with gravel in my mouth and someone’s knee digging into my spine. My arms were yanked behind me so hard I thought my shoulders were going to pop out. They slapped the cuffs on like I was some kind of criminal, and when I told them it hurt, they didn’t care. One of them told me to shut up and shoved me into the back of the cruiser. The door slammed, and I was left in the sticky heat of the car, wrists throbbing, adrenaline making my whole body feel like it was on fire.
Now I was sitting in some small room with gray walls and flashing lights. The kind of place that smelled like old sweat, cheap soap, and bleach that never quite did its
