Re: Trailer Park: Brett T & Cris M
If there was a lot to read in a handshake, maybe there was more to read in the lack of one. Brett looked at the proffered hand like it was shit on his shoe. He shifted, weight on the back of his feet, swaying back just a little as he folded his arms across his chest. The cotton of his dark green top stretched over wide shoulders and wider muscles. “You already know my name,” he said, voice gruff, low and absent of any kind of charm. He'd been polite before, but he had no interest in playing the 'getting to know you' game. “If you're serious about your job, you've already read my file. So, you know all you need to about me and that badge tells me all I need to about you.” Good cop, bad cop it didn't make any difference as far as Brett was concerned. He didn't trust them either way. Being screwed over by your best friend did that to a man's willingness to trust anyone.
“There was an argument. Couple of guys, maybe more. A girl - shouts, not screams.” Anger, not the panic of an assault. “Some cans kicked over maybe, or possibly just pushed about. Like I said - not my business and I don't get involved in other people's.” Not anymore, not now he didn't have a badge and the right.