Jeremy spent the next few weeks of work all-out avoiding Ben as much as possible. Though fortunately Jeremy saw very little of Ben, and when he did it was only through the cameras at the beginning of his shift.
It seemed as if Ben was intentionally keeping away from Jeremy as well. Jeremy figured this either meant that Ben was plotting to murder him during his routine naps in work or was just as weirded out by the situation as Jeremy was (however the first possibility seemed much more likely than the latter).
Fritz was also another person Jeremy avoided when possible, but that was much harder than avoiding Ben. Unlike Ben, Fritz was always coming into work a few minutes before Jeremy's shift officially ended and her's started, so it was near impossible not to see her.
Their conversations were as brief as Jeremy could manage. He did his best to keep her pointless chit-chat stories short, but there obviously was no way to tone down Fritz's boisterous personality. She just loved living in the idea that Jeremy was still her friend- the friend she knew back in her high school years, and the friend who hadn't nearly been charged with manslaughter.
At least she wasn't threatening him with a blade to his throat every time they encountered.
Payton was the exact opposite of Fritz. Jeremy hadn't seen an eye or hair of him after his training day, and no phone calls were left for him after his first night. Jeremy wasn't devastated in the slightest about Payton's absence though. Like Fritz, Payton rambled way too much. Jeremy enjoyed having his shifts spent in peace and quiet- the perfect sleeping environment.
The rest of the staff wasn't nearly as welcoming as Fritz and Payton had been. They were all very closed-in and indifferent; Jeremy had no doubt that they were wary of him. There wasn't a single person within the city who didn't hear about Jeremy's incident on the news, so Jeremy didn't blame the staff for avoiding him. Though that didn't mean it wasn't annoying.
One positive thing about this new job was the pay. Sure, it was barely enough to afford luxuries or have pocket change, but Jeremy cherished each penny of it. He was overjoyed to be able to actually buy real groceries that weren't just ramen and booze, and just being able to slowly get back into a healthier diet.
Perhaps this job would be worth it after a few more pay raises.
Jeremy had been requested to come into work early by Fransisco on the Tuesday of his third week.
On his way to work, Jeremy mentally ran through the list of every possibility of what this could mean. Did Payton's hours get cut short and Jeremy's hours increased? Did they need Jeremy to do an extra assignment? Was he being fired? Jeremy sure hoped his only source of income wasn't in jeopardy.
He went into work through the front door as Fransisco had clearly instructed. The place was empty and dark, with the exception of the emergency lights on automatically to give Jeremy enough light to navigate through the area. 'Must've been a slow day,' Jeremy thought.
After heading through the door near the stage, he immediately went over to Fransisco's office. He quietly stepped in and lightly tapped his knuckles on the door.
Fransisco was sitting at his desk and looking over some kind of papers when Jeremy came in. He looked up from his work and grinned at Jeremy. "Ah, right on time," He said.
"You… wanted to see me, sir?" Jeremy asked formally, fully stepping into the room. It smelled heavily of cigars and fancy whiskey.
Fransisco stood up from his desk. "Yes, yes. But not in here. Follow me." He went past Jeremy out of the office and Jeremy followed closely behind. "How do you like work here, Mr. Fitzgerald?"
"Very much. It's really helped me financially."
"Good. Ben said he saw potential in you. He seems to like you, as do I. Other employers missed out on a valuable employee just because of some stupid legal issue."
Jeremy was skeptical of Ben actually liking him, though if it helped his reputation with the boss, it couldn't hurt.
"So… how badly do you want to keep this job?"
"Huh?" Jeremy said with a furrow of his eyebrows.
"It's a big world out there. I know I said your legal troubles were irrelevant, but it doesn't look good for me, yeah? I could easily hire someone with no criminal record to do your job and make my life easier. Now you're a good man, and I'd hate to see you go, but my business comes first."
Jeremy's chest tightened. Although the thought of unemployment was all too familiar by now, Jeremy would rather die than return to that kind of lifestyle. But he couldn't blame Fransisco; Jeremy wouldn't even want to hire himself.
"I understand," Jeremy said.
Fransisco suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to face Jeremy. "Unless... you want to prove to me I should keep you," He said. His tone had suddenly turned serious.
"... How so?" Said Jeremy guardedly.
Fransisco stood in thought for a moment before turning around. "Follow me," He ordered Jeremy and began walking.
Jeremy obediently followed behind, a hook of doubt making him a little hesitant as to what Fransisco meant. He really hoped this task to keep his job did not involve sexual favors or murdering the competition in the cold flesh. He and his boss reached the back door of the building and Fransisco momentarily paused before opening the creaky metal door.
The night air pleasantly kissed Jeremy's cheek and embraced him in the sounds of cars driving down the nearby streets. However, the scene before Jeremy was not nearly as calming as the contrasting atmosphere around it.
On the ground sat a man who was blindfolded with a white cloth and gagged with a rope. He sat on his knees on the graveled ground of the alleyway. Several bruises speckled on his arms and his hands we also bound with rope that no doubt was leaving wicked marks on his wrists.
Around the poor man stood four other people, all of them holding guns except for one burly man- who Jeremy recognized as bouncer who always stands in front of the building at night- holding a baseball bat. Cheyenne was among the four people, looking bitter as always and holding a pistol in one hand while the other rested on her hip. They all turned to Jeremy and Fransisco when they came through the door.
Jeremy stood frozen in fear. Before he could even think of running away, one of the men walked roughly dragged Jeremy fully outside and slammed the door behind him.
"Don't you even think of escaping, Fitzgerald," Fransisco said, "Four people with weapons against you? Not a chance." Fransisco let out a laugh and two of the other men grinned. The man on the ground was still shivering in fear.
Jeremy's throat was dry and his head was spinning. Jeremy had dealt with drug dealers, psychopaths, murderers- all walks of life in his cop days, but this was significantly different. He had no weapon except a puny pocket taser and no backup to assist him. One wrong move and he could have a bullet in his head within seconds.
"Ha, look at this guy!" Fransisco exclaimed, bending down to the gagged man, "Little shit thought he could get out of paying my loan that kept him on crack. You really thought ol' Fransisco would forget, North?"
The gagged man furiously shook his head. "N-No… F-Fransisco," He shuddered.
"Told you he was nothin' but a swindling crackhead," Cheyenne said to herself.
Fransisco stood back up and turned back to Jeremy. "I think you need to have few swings at him. You should, eh, rough him up, yeah?"
Jeremy took a few seconds to find his voice to speak. "W-What the hell's h-happening?" He stammered, "W-Who's that?". It wasn't even hot outside, yet Jeremy was already starting to form pearls of sweat upon his forehead.
The other men and Cheyenne snickered and Fransisco's grin only grew. He went over to Jeremy and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Ah Jeremy, a good worker, but not too observant it seems," Said Fransisco, "What, was spending 'bout half a year smoking and drinking cut you off from the world?" More sneers from the circle erupted.
"See, I assumed as a former cop you knew about the last gang who was here- Frederico's little gang of goonies. Long story short, we burned them out like a match, and it's a new day. I've got the whole government and police force in the palm of my hand. This is my turf now, and in my turf you play by my rules.
"I hired you not just to be another lackey, but like I said before, I see potential in you. Strong, obedient, and stern- you could do great things, Jeremy. Though this city is mine, so remember this; follow my orders and play by the rules, and you could be living in luxury within a year. However, if you want to be the good cop you always wanted to be and try to break rules, well… why don't you ask North how it will end?"
North said nothing, and just sat in silence on the gravel blubbering through snot and sobs.
Jeremy felt as stiff as a board. "S-So why am I o-out here? S-Shouldn't you have told m-me on the first day?" He asked cautiously.
"Think of it as… a test," Replied Fransisco, "I didn't know if you still had ties to justice. But it seemed like Ben scared that last bit of righteousness right out of ya on your first night, so I just had to wait for the right moment when this nut was going to crack to make the big reveal." He made a motion towards North.
"Besides, what do you have to lose?" He said, "It's not like the police care about the likes of ya. Why not take the chance to play on the side of the victors in this game?"
The temptation was almost unbearable. Although the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach was screaming otherwise, Jeremy couldn't agree more with Francisco's statement. He was nobody. A worthless piece of trash. If he was going to be trash in the eyes of the good guys, he could at least try to make it as a bad guy.
Jeremy was silent for about thirty seconds more. "What do I have to do?" He finally said.
"Smart choice, boy!" Exclaimed Fransisco gleefully, slapping Jeremy on the back and pulling him close for a shaking side hug. The intoxicating yet familiar smell of tobacco reeked off of Fransisco enough for Jeremy to get a whiff. Fransisco pointed down at North. "Give 'im some more bruises and cuts. Break a few bones. You can even use Joe's bat if you're feeling adventurous."
"And kill him…?" Jeremy asked nervously.
Fransisco shook his head. "No, no, not kill him," He said, "We'll decide what to do with him later." The Mexican gave a wide, toothy smile to Jeremy.
All eyes were on Jeremy. His knees felt weak and he was trembling in terror. His heart was screeching to start running, but his brain ordered him to follow Fransisco's orders. But there was no other option at that point.
Jeremy bent down and looked upon the trembling man. Now he remembered; North was a janitor during the evening shift who Jeremy had seen mopping the halls at the beginning of his shift a couple of times. 'Poor fucker,' Jeremy thought.
"Sorry," Jeremy muttered to North, who turned his head away in response.
Jeremy raised his fist and brought it down with all his might onto North's snot and blood-covered face. And then his ribs. And then everything else again, again, and again.