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The Smut Slut

Brixton

Sitting in the interrogation room with my hands cuffed to the table, I curse Trig up and down loud enough for the fucking cops behind the two way glass to hear every fucking word. I don't give a shit. He got me into this fucking mess and when things got hot, his ass took off and ran, leaving me behind to deal with the aftermath. Fucking coward.

I refused to say a word when they brought me in, but I didn't put up a fight—I didn’t need a resisting charge added to my shit; it wouldve given me more fucking time.

But as I sit here—not even thinking about the fuck up I just did while already on fucking parole—my future isnt what's on my mind. I can't stop thinking about my little bird and thoughts about not seeing her again really start to fuck with me, sending panic rushing right to my head.

The door suddenly opens and the arresting officer walks in with a seriously pissed off look on his face as he comes over and unlocks the cuffs around my wrists, not saying a word as he does i
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