Gamed (A Standalone Romance Novel) (Bad Boy Romance) by Claire Adams Page A

 
 
 
    CHAPTER
FOUR
    Owen

 
    I looked out the window and noticed the streetlights had come on. Most people
thought I played in a windowless basement. They would never believe I sat in a
third-story loft apartment with a great view of the Nevada sunset. The sky had
gone from dark pinks and oranges into a purplish blue and now it was dark.
    As I turned back
to Dark Flag , another display of
lights lit up my window. The rolling reds and blues of a police car grew
brighter. I watched as two squad cars converged and left the lights on. The officers
got out and met at the curb. One of them pointed up to my floor.
    I logged out of
the game just as the sharp knock hit my door.
    "Police. Open
up."
    I pulled open the
door wide. "Can I help you, officers?"
    "You can step
aside, sir. We have a search warrant for this residence. Are you Owen
Redd?" the bald and tight-mouthed officer asked.
    "Yes, sir. What
is this about?" I stepped back and let them in.
    Three uniformed
officers entered behind the one that spoke. He brandished a folded piece of
paper. "We're going to take a look around."
    I almost laughed. The
loft apartment was a wide open room. A kitchen island separated one end from a
wall of appliances. The other end was divided by a short hallway with two
bedrooms off either side and a bathroom at the end. An
L-shaped sofa delineated our living room. There was no dining room table, just
a wide area rug where a few bits of my roommate's exercise equipment were
scattered. Every inch of the apartment besides the bedrooms was on display.
    The officers
drifted to opposite corners of the apartment and started poking around. One
eyeballed the built-in bookshelves that stood against the wall to my bedroom. Another
strolled through the kitchen and opened kitchen cabinets at random. He left
them hanging open. The third officer walked along the picture windows and I
half expected him to wave to his partner on the curb watching the squad cars.
    It had to be a
joke.
    The bald policeman
handed me the folded paper before he turned and opened our entryway closet. Suddenly,
all of the officers were going through things with both hands. Books were taken
off shelves, drawers dug through, and clothes pushed aside to reveal the back
edges of the closet. I opened the paper and discovered a very real search
warrant.
    "You're
looking for drugs?" I asked.
    The policeman near
the windows was running his hands along the top of my television. "Pretty
nice set-up you have here. Play video games?"
    "Online,
multi-player," I said.
    "What exactly
do you do for a living, Mr. Redd?" the bald officer reappeared from the
back of our coat closet.
    "I'm a
sponsored player for the game Dark Flag ,"
I said.
    "You're
telling me you sit around all day playing video games and someone pays you for
it?"
    "Yes, sir. I
have the pay stubs to prove it. Though from the looks of this search warrant, I
don't have to show them to you," I said.
    "You might
want to ask your lawyer about that," he said with a mean smile.
    "Why exactly
do you think there are drugs here?" I asked.
    All four police
officers scoffed and continued their digging without another word. Another
stereotype of the gaming world: I sat around high while I played or somehow
funded my sitting around by selling drugs on the side.
    I sat on one of
the stools at the kitchen island as they delved deeper into their search. All
of the books came off the shelves and the officer sneezed as he flipped through
the dusty pages.
    "Yeah, those
are more for display than anything. I mean, I don't know what else to put on
that many shelves," I said.
    The policeman in
the kitchen had light duty as there were only two pots and a cast iron skillet
in the lower cupboards. The upper cabinets had a random collection of pint
glasses, a few mismatched plates, and coffee mugs with ridiculous sayings
printed on them.
    "Looks like
he's a gourmet," he said. The pantry was bare except for a bag of brown
rice, a few loose power bars, and a