Chapter 2: Blue Lights and Broken Masks
"Open up! Police!"
The color drained from Brandon's face. Richard stumbled backward, holding his hands up as if the phone was a loaded weapon. I didn't wait for them to move; I walked past my paralyzed family, my throat throbbing, and unlocked the deadbolt.
Two uniformed officers stepped inside, taking in the scene. I pointed a shaking finger at Richard. "I called 911 on my drive over, keeping the line open," I said, my voice hoarse. "That man just strangled me. I have it all on audio, and there are bruises forming on my neck."
Diane snapped out of her shock. "Officers, please! It's a misunderstanding. She's... she's sick. The medication makes her hysterical!"
"Ma'am, step back," the taller officer commanded. He looked at me, then at the heavy red marks blossoming across my collarbone. He immediately unclipped his cuffs. "Richard Hayes? Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
"You little bitch," Brandon hissed under his breath, taking a menacing step toward me.
"Step back!" the second officer barked, resting his hand on his holster.
May you like
As they patted my father down and read him his rights, I tossed the crushed white envelope onto the coffee table. It popped open. Instead of cash, thick stacks of Monopoly money spilled onto the rug. Brandon stared at the colorful fake bills, the realization hitting him that I had outplayed them all.
"Have fun paying off your bookie, Bran," I whispered.
