Vindico Bay - Chapter 1

All characters are 18+

Parker Willis lay on his front on a bed that he hadn't even managed to get into the night before. The curtains had remained open which meant that the bright morning light had stirred him into that strange space between sleep and consciousness.

His legs remained awkwardly stuck together by the jeans that he was unable to remove in his drunken state. His t-shirt lay on the floor and a string of drool linked his cheek to his wet pillow. Before he could even open his stinging eyes, he knew that the hangover would remain with him for the day.

Parker groaned, as if that would somehow ease the building headache and swirling stomach. His wary mind raced back over the events from the previous night. Had he done anything stupid? He didn't think so, but then again, he couldn't remember much after they left DJ's house.

Without looking, he reached for his phone on the bedside locker and, opening just one of his blurry eyes, found that he'd forgotten to charge it.

"Fuck" the eighteen-year-old moaned.

"Knock knock" his father said, rather than actually knocking as he entered his teenage son's bedroom.

"Rough night, champ?" He beamed, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of toast in the other.

Parker mumbled a response that even he didn't understand and watched, as though he'd been the victim of a terrible tragedy, as his dad and admittedly, best friend, left his cure on the locker.

"Thanks dad" he croaked into his pillow.

"Your mum's not best pleased" the forty-three year old sighed "I just wanted to let you know before she finds you".

Parker felt like crying. He couldn't handle any drama today, not when he was feeling so awful.

"Why?" He groaned, reaching for a slice of toast and missing his mouth entirely as he tried to eat it.

"You can't be cycling in that state, son" his dad said, trying his best to sound authoritative.

"What?" Parker scoffed "I didn't..."

The memory of DJ lending him a beat up old bike to get home in the early hours of the morning, flashed through his dehydrated brain and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Shit" he grunted "sorry".

"And you cycled over her Azalea's" he added, evidently trying not to snigger.

Parker sunk back into his pillow as his dad left the room. He'd apologise to his mother later, but for now, the cup of black coffee was calling his name.

He looked at himself in the mirror on the door of his wardrobe, he looked terrible, but beneath the hangover, Parker was quite a handsome young man. He'd inherited his father's golden hair, though he'd been lucky enough to get his mother's emerald eyes. He had a lot to thank them for besides his striking features. He was inherently lean, and for a reason unknown, he was quite smooth all over, which despite his earlier grievances with that fact, he was now thankful for.

The only thing remotely frustrating for the eighteen-year-old was that he was a slight bit shorter than average for his age. Since he'd reached adulthood however, he no longer cared too much.

As Parker lay there eating the toast and sipping the coffee that his dad had made for him, he realised that this hangover, and the ones he'd been having for the last number of weekends, were really the only inconveniences he'd experienced in his life, if he didn't count the accident all those years ago, of course.

He was an only child, and both his parents had decent jobs. They weren't rich by any means, and had lived in the same modest three-bedroom house since Parker was a baby. His mum was a school teacher and his dad was an electrician, so for as long as he could remember, he and his family had been comfortably middle class.

The teen kicked the jeans from around his ankles and slumped back into his soft bed. It was only ten in the morning, which meant he had another few hours of sleep left before his mum would get angry enough to come up.

As Parker turned onto the cold side of his pillow and felt the cool breeze drift over his body, he heard the familiar hum of the television downstairs. As he did every Saturday morning, his dad would be sitting in the living room with his own cup of coffee, reading a newspaper and watching the news at the same time. His mother was likely complaining that there was simply no way he could do both, and Parker felt his eyes grow heavy as he basked in the normality of his life.

The news reader spoke in a very relaxing tone.

"And in breaking news, it has been confirmed that the former Chief of the General Staff, Sir Edward Miller has been elected as the new Prime Minister after a landslide victory. This comes just three weeks after the tragic death of former Prime Minister Andrew Manor".

Parker drifted into a peaceful sleep, he'd never been one for politics anyway.

"Parker! Parker wake up!"

His mother's shrill voice woke him from his deep slumber, and as his eyes flickered open he remembered the profuse apology that he owed her for destroying her flower bed.

"Sorry mum" he yawned, stretching his half naked body on the bed and quickly realising that he was in fact, half naked.

"Mum!" He barked, covering his underwear clad crotch with a pillow. "Get out!"

"Parker, come downstairs" she insisted, and the young man couldn't understand why a bunch of flowers could cause such upset.

"I said I'm sorry mum" he groaned, rubbing his eyes "I'll buy you new flowers".

"Parker!"

His mum's voice was almost panicked, and the blonde haired youngster caught her gaze and stared at her curiously.

"I need you to come downstairs, honey" she said, her voice shaking slightly. "There's some people here who'd like to speak to you".

With those words Parker's mum briskly left the room and returned downstairs, leaving her son even more confused than he was just a moment prior.

Who would want to talk to him? He didn't have that many friends, and if it was DJ or Steven, his mum would have said that. He found his t-shirt on the ground and pulled his jeans back on anxiously.

There was something odd about the way his mum had spoken to him. Sure, they didn't always see eye to eye, and he knew he'd upset her because of his dad's warning, but this was different. Something was wrong.

The wary teen, still nursing a hangover, walked sheepishly down the stairs. He could hear low mumbling coming from the kitchen, mumbling which didn't belong to either of his parents. As he reached the hallway, he trawled his memory for anything that may have gotten him in trouble recently.

He'd finished school a few months ago so it was unlikely to be anything related to that. Plus, it was a Saturday, so that also limited what it might be. Despite the fact that he was now an adult, he had yet to learn to navigate such adult things. His heart rate quickened slightly as he pushed open the kitchen door, and then quickened quite significantly thereafter.

"Have a seat, son" his dad said, gesturing toward the chair between him and his mother.

Parker barely heard him. His eyes were now solely focused on the two uniformed police officers that sat at the other side of his kitchen table.

Had there been an accident? Had something happened to one of his friends? His brow was lowered and his palms were sweating.

"Parker, please sit down" his dad said again, and Parker obeyed mindlessly.

The two men before him looked stern, as though they were here to deliver some exceptionally bad news. One of them looked to be in his late fifties, whilst the other was considerably younger. Suddenly, Parker's sick stomach returned with a vengeance.

"Now can you tell us what this is all about please?" His dad asked, and he was much better at using an authoritative tone when it wasn't aimed at his only son.

The older of the two officers glared at Parker who felt like a naughty school boy as he squirmed in the chair.

"The bike in your front garden" he said with a thick London accent "where did you get it?"

It felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from Parker's shoulders. DJ must have forgotten he'd lent him the bike the night before.

"Oh" Parker sighed with a smile "it's my friend's bike, he let me use it to get home last night".

"Is that so?" The younger officer asked, and Parker cocked a brow.

"That bike was reported stolen on Wednesday morning" he added, and both of Parker's parents turned to look at him.

The young man glanced at each of them, his face burning at the fact that suddenly his parents thought he was some sort of thief.

"What?!" He barked "you think I stole it?".

His question was aimed more at his parents than the police officers. He'd been brought up to have a great deal of respect for the police, but even he knew that this whole thing was nothing more than a formality.

Career criminals were walking the streets because the prisons were overrun, so it was extraordinarily unlikely that even if he had stolen the bike, that he'd get anything more than a stern telling off.

"Who's this 'friend'?" The older officer asked, air quoting the word.

"Do you think I'm lying?" Parker scoffed, feeling his blood begin to boil as his father nudged him in the ribs.

"Just answer the question, please" the officer pressed.

"DJ Malone" Parker told them, and quickly realised that he might have just hung his best friend out to dry. "But he didn't steal anything either, he's not like that" he added.

"Oh we know he didn't steal it" the officer smirked "we've already spoken to him, and his parents confirmed he was with them in Surrey for the day".

The situation was becoming more and more confusing for the young man. If the police had already spoken to DJ, then they'd know that Parker had only used the bike once, and that was last night in a drunken attempt to get home.

"Where were you on Wednesday, Parker?" He added.

The teenager considered the question for a moment before shrugging.

"Here, I guess" he said, looking to his parents for confirmation.

"All day?" The intimidating officer pushed and Parker nodded.

"John, Lynda?" The younger man asked "can you confirm that?"

"My son isn't a thief" Parker's dad said sternly "nor is he a liar. If he said he was here for the day, then he was here for the day".

"That's not what we asked" the officer replied, and it felt strange for Parker to hear somebody being almost rude to his own father.

"Both my wife and I were in work on Wednesday" he stated "so of course we can't account for every minute of the day".

The older officer took out a mobile phone and slid it across the table, Parker and both of his parents leaned forward to look at it, and instantly, the young man sighed.

"So I went to the shop!" He barked "can you see a bike in that video?"

"Parker!" his dad snapped, and the young man was becoming increasingly frustrated that nobody seemed to be on his side for this.

"You just told us that you spent all day at home" the sneering police officer said, "and yet we've proven that to be a lie".

John Willis rubbed his eyes and slid the phone back to the police.

"This is absurd" the man said "it's a shoddy old bike, and my son has never stolen anything in his life. How about this" he continued, pulling out his wallet "I'll pay for the bike, whatever it's worth, and we can just forget about this whole mess".

The two officers glared at Parker's father for a moment before the older one spoke again.

"Are you trying to bribe us, sir?" He asked, and John scoffed.

"Bribe you?" He laughed "I'm offering to pay for the damn bike!"

The men stood up and Parker watched on, nervous and confused.

"Okay" one of them said, walking around the table and grabbing Parker by the arm. "We need to bring you in to answer some questions".

"What!?" All three members of the family yelped at once.

"You'll do no such thing!" John snapped, standing up and pushing between his son and the officer.

"Please move out of the way, sir" the other man said sternly.

"That bike!" John shouted "is older than my son is, and you will not be dragging him to a police station because somebody has made a mistake!"

"We're only going to ask you once more to move out of the way or we'll arrest you for obstruction"

"Arrest me then!" John shouted, and Parker felt like crying.

"John!" His wife screeched "stop it! We'll get this sorted"

"Listen to your wife" the older officer snarled, yanking Parker out from behind him.

The eighteen-year-old was led toward the door by the two men, his heart was now beating so fast that he could hear it.

"Dad!" He yelled back as his parents followed "dad, what's going on?"

"Nothing, son" John called, and the panic in his voice was evident. "Just hang tight, we're calling the solicitor right away. You'll be out of there by tea time!"

As Parker Willis was led down his front garden, his body had gone numb. He'd never before been in trouble with the police, and he certainly didn't deserve it now. He glanced over at the tatty old bike and wanted to smash it to pieces. He hadn't stolen it, and DJ knew that, so why was he being bundled into the back of a police car?

He sat inside, trying his best not to cry as he looked back to see his mum and dad in the doorway. His dad was frantically dialling a number on his phone, and his mum was holding onto his arm, sobbing and holding a tissue to her nose.

"Well talk about dramatic" the younger officer laughed as the two of them got into the front.

He looked through the mirror at Parker in the back and smirked.

"It's just a fucking bike, kid" he laughed "no need to shit your pants".

Whilst this ordeal unfolded, something vastly different was occurring over five thousand miles away. Despite the differences however, the events were closely related, and just how related they were, would soon become obvious to everyone.