Oh good, he was gonna gloat as well. Wasn't that just icing on tonight's turd-cake?
The cuffs bit into Bill's wrists, and without a word of preamble he found himself being yanked backward and up by the collar, forcing his legs to follow suit. Another petty power play. The cop wasn't one he'd crossed paths with before, but Bill knew the type. Jumped-up sociopaths who loved nothing more than to throw their weight around, safe in the knowledge that the badge and the uniform would shield them from any blowback. They'd get up in your face, shove you around, sneer and bully and mock until they got a rise. Until you gave them the excuse they were after to whale on your ass.
Bill wouldn't give him the opening. He wasn't that stupid, at least. He kept his trap shut, his eyes lowered. If he played it safe, the guy might decide he was too boring to be worth the effort.