The bedsheets were on the floor again. Stained, with God only knows what bodily secretions. No matter how hard she tries to scrub them, with time, sweat has a tendency to make cotton fibers dull and translucent.
It doesn’t help that, after a few months of this, I opted to invest in a black light. It’s been years since we’ve had the kind of sweaty sex that would produce bedsheets like that. And what is this now? Blood? Goddamn.
It’s always on a Saturday too. The day on the force that they force me to pull all nighters. The night I’m on the beat, I come home to this, and every Sunday I’m beat down.
And there he is, Dougy. Doug-o. Doug-ah. My childhood best friend. My confidant. Lying there on the couch every Sunday, like some kind of faithful lap dog. Playing video games on my console, on my TV, in my living room.
Been doing it for years, before I met Irene even. Kept me in good spirits after a long beat. He’d come around at 6 in the morning with a fresh box of donuts. We’d play the same old games and I’d conk out around 10. He’d stay for a more hours after, said he liked playing the games, but I knew it was just his way. I’ve got a dangerous job, I’ve put away a lot of dangerous people. It was just his way you know? He was keeping me safe.
And when I met her. Irene! Irene the doll! Irene the babe! Irene the light of my life! Well, it all stopped, you know, out of respect. I had her to watch over me and me to watch over her. And Dougy and I would just meet up after the shift at the coffee shop, and I got to be the one to buy him the donuts.
Until that one day when Irene had to go on that business trip on short notice. When Dougy and I came back to the apartment. Said he was feeling nostalgic or somethin. And we came to the door was all busted in. And her jewelry was stolen. Just your typical larceny, but it freaked me the fuck out. And so I asked him to start staying over again on the weekends, to keep her safe when I couldn’t.
It was me who let that gabagool in. The rat fuck was prolly the one who did the break in, just so he could get in with her.
It was at about that time that I started to get real proud of the work we was doing. When the perps were at their worst, we started putting more officers on patrol. More officers integrated in the community. The idea worked. Crime started to go down. We’d find em terrified of us, some would even dive face first into dumpsters, muttering in panic. Never understood that.
With the less crime, the beats got boring. Now I’m not one to sleep in my car, but damn, there’s only so many times you can drive in circles, you know?
So I decide to go home one night and splash some water on my face, maybe play a round with Dougy. I come in, no Dougy. I go to the bedroom, no Irene! I look at the bed…no bedsheets! What the fuck!
Well, needless to say, that woke me up. I’m more ways than one, you know what I mean?
A week passes, I’m outta my mind. I go back to the apartment. Same fuckin thing!
So I go the video store and I install cameras all in the house. But it’s weird. I see em they go in together, they grab the bedsheets. She, always the bedspread, him always the top sheet. With intent but all giddy like, you know? Like they’re getting away with something? They go out to the balcony, my balcony. They close the French doors. And they’re out there, for like, hours!
—-
It finally came. Today’s the day. It’s Sunday. It’s time.
And there he is, lying there on the couch every Sunday, like some kind of faithful lap dog. Playing video games on my console, on my TV, in my living room. After Fucking my girlfriend.
“Hey Dougy.”
“Hey “Sam! How was the beat?”
“Quiet now, the force has the streets safe.”
Dougy half cocks half smirks.
“But not this house.”
The smirk falls from his face and is replaced by concern.
“Put the gun down, Sam.”
“Why are you fucking my girlfriend, Dougy?”
“No…”
“Sam! What the fuck!” Irene comes out from the bedroom, fresh from a shower.
“It’s not what you think. We’ve been friends from way back. It’s not what you think, Sam.”
“What is it then!
“It’s not what you think!”
“Then what the fuck is it!” As the tears well in Sam’s eyes.
“We can’t. It’s not…”
“I did everything by the book! I kept these streets safe! I kept you safe, and this is how I’m repaid? I bleed for you, for this city, this is what I get?
“You did! You are! It’s not!”
“Then what the fuck is it!!!”
BANG!
sobbing
—-
“I told you this was too much. I told you he’d find out.”
“Irene wait!”
“I’m leaving you. I’m leaving this city .” She said through tears, as she picked up the bedsheets. She stormed out the door and into the pale morning light.
Ever since I lost her, I haven’t been myself, and it shows. Crime is back on the rise. I gotta shake this. I gotta get my head back in the game.