The blond high school kid shook off his brother's grip, then turned to me and said, "You go back first. I wanna see how he gets his ass kicked."
Young Master Thomas and his crew weren't planning to leave either, all watching curiously as the other gang surrounded me.
I still had hold of the rich kid who spit at me, gripping his collar. The others roared at me, "Let go!"
I didn't let go, actually just clamped down harder.
"Didn't you fucking hear me tell you to let go?" Another guy lost his temper, stepped up to me and mouthed off, "You wanna play with us? You aren't even qualified. Go back to your precinct and meddle with petty disputes."
"Tobby, let him go. We'll leave," Kyle Miller said.
The rich kid I was holding onto smirked, "You laid hands on me, now you think you can just walk away?"
Kyle Miller said, "Young Master Lopez, today's his first day on the job. He doesn't know the rules."
I sneered, "I don't need to know any rules. If you wanna start shit, go do it at home. Gathering and brawling out here is just straight-up nasty—I'm handling this, period!"
Young Master Lopez wiped the blood off his mouth, looked at Kyle Miller, and said, "If you wanna stay out of this, I'll let you leave right now. But this dude? No way you're taking him tonight. I'll send him back to your precinct whenever I'm done being pissed, don't worry—same old deal, I won't break any bones."
Kyle Miller and the others' faces changed a bit, trying to appeal, "Young Master Lopez, give the rookie a break, we're all just trying to get by."
Young Master Lopez pointed at my hand on his collar, "Look at this—he's the first who's dared go off on me, still won't let go! Tell me, should I just give him a chance? Fine, if he kneels and kowtows to me right now, I'll give him his chance."
"Uh…" Kyle Miller and the other guys looked awkward—they barely knew me, plus kneeling? Way too much for anyone.
I tightened my grip on the guy's collar, warning, "I'm dead serious, standing here as a cop. I'll say it again—anyone who came to start trouble is coming with me! The rest, get outta the way, or don't blame me for getting physical!"
"Oh, really? Go on, try it—maybe even shoot someone, yeah?" The others scoffed, "Let Young Master Lopez go."
"So you're all gonna band together to interfere with a cop on duty, huh?" I narrowed my eyes, scanning the eleven blocking me.
"And what if we are?" Someone cocked an eyebrow.
"Good." I gritted my teeth and shouted low, "Then tonight, every last one of you involved is coming with me! Old Miller, call the precinct—tell them to send a squad car to haul these guys in."
Kyle Miller shot me a glare, "Adam't go nuts, okay? You're not done being crazy yet? Let go and quit screwing around."
I unclipped my pistol and tossed it at Kyle Miller, "Hold this for me."
Then I shoved Young Master Lopez aside, roared at the guys circling me, "Come on! You bunch of daddy's boys, all you do is mess around in the mud—aren't you so cocky? Today, anyone who throws a punch, I'm hauling your ass in!"
That line set those rich kids off for real. Deep down, nothing pissed them off more than being called out for living off their folks and bullying others, so my taunts made them wild.
In a flash, all eleven charged in.
I stomped the first one who rushed me, sending the dude flying. I held back some, didn't use my fists so nobody's face got busted up, just slapped the ones who came at me, my knees and feet landing hits all over those rich kids as I cut through them.
If someone kicked at me, I'd chop their knee and drop them howling and clutching their leg. Any punches thrown, I'd catch them with my palm, twist their arm, flip them around, then boot their ass straight to the ground, face down eating dirt.
In two minutes flat, I had all eleven rich brats groaning on the ground. Then I yanked up Young Master Lopez, slapped cuffs on him and dragged him like roadkill over to my motorcycle. Anyone who tried to stop me—bam, I'd boot them aside, no hesitation, no mercy.
The sheer guts of it stunned Kyle Miller, my coworkers, and the blond kid's crew—Thomas and his boys were just as blown away on the sidelines.
Dragging limp Young Master Lopez, I cuffed him to the tail of my bike, turned around to face Lopez's guys and the Thomas crew, said, "Name's Tobby Curry. Got a beef or something? Come find me at the precinct!"
Everyone saw that motorcycle tearing off, dragging Lopez behind, and Thomas plus the blond kid's crowd traded looks, all utterly baffled.
"Bro, you gotta back this dude. He's wild—in a good way," the blond kid stared daggers at Tobby's retreating figure, full-on rebellious worship.
"Back him? Hell no! This rookie cop just pissed off all those rich kids. Bet you three days before he's canned—no, one day," Thomas said.
The blond kid snickered, "Hope he gets canned, then I'll ask him to teach me a few moves. Those combos were sick! If he'd hollered 'I'll take on all ten!'—damn, that'd be perfect."
His brother snapped, "Once he's canned, you think Lopez and those guys won't fuck with him? You can't help him. Quit stirring shit and do your damn homework. And dye your hair back."
The two argued for ages, while the rest watched those rich kids on the ground getting picked up and helped. Not long after, Thomas and their crew saw something that floored them.
A squad car rolled up, I hopped out from the front passenger seat, then marched over and kicked and hauled all those rich brats who started trouble, one by one—cuffed them and shoved them into the big police van. The whole scene left everyone speechless.
The ones who still mouthed off, cussing me and threatening my family, got smacked silly by me before they finally settled down and let themselves be dragged into the car.
All those cocky rich punks—gone, taken away. Thomas's side was left standing, looking at each other.
Kyle Miller and the other beat cops looked like their eyeballs were about to pop out.
The blond kid, who'd always looked down on me, clicked his tongue, "Badass."
His brother and some others, holding back for ages, could only sum up my guts and decisiveness with one word, "Holy shit!"
Fuck me, he actually did it? Just loaded everyone up and took off! Even their chief had never gone this far.
Meanwhile, in the squad car, a few cuffed rich kids were kicking at the door. I drove while shouting, "Kick it in, you're paying for it."
"You really think you'll leave the precinct alive tonight?" one threatened.
I didn't care, "Save it. Tonight, you insulted a cop, assaulted a cop—that's an extra charge. Even your lawyer can't help you. By tomorrow, whoever's gotta pay bail, pays bail. We're doing this by the book. At least fifteen days in lockup—so you better play nice."