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Jake would never date a lawyer ever again. That was something he was going to make sure was in his dating profile, if he ever got out of this situation.
He could blame this entire situation on it. Tied up in the back of an ice cream truck, listening to a lunatic blame him for the downfall of his life while he swung a gun through the air. Jake’s chest banged whenever it gestured even vaguely in his direction, eyes focused on the trigger. Jake hadn’t even done anything wrong; Geoffrey had been basically freed, only 40 or so hours of community service. It wasn’t Jake’s fault if he couldn’t hold himself accountable for the damage he’d inflicted upon his own life.
No matter how much he tried to argue, though, he’d always be shut down by the gun. A silent threat, aimed towards his head in warning. It was enough to get Jake to shut up and let Geoffrey finish his monologues, instead trying to figure out how to get out of the restraints he’d been placed into, without getting caught. His arms were on full display, held by duct tape, so it wasn’t a viable option to try and undo the tape while Geoffrey stood in front of him, crowding his personal space.
And then he left, silencing Jake with a makeshift gag as he slammed the door shut behind him. Jake sat still, quiet, waiting for the footsteps to fade, before immediately looking down at his bindings. The tape was going to be the hardest to remove, and without anything sharp and him unable to bite the tape, it’d be even harder. His eyes scanned the room as he tried to look for any object that had even a slight edge, eventually settling on what looked like a random piece of metal. Jake didn’t know where it had come from, and he didn’t care enough to think about it as he scored the chair forward with momentum, dragging it slowly towards the counter.
Halfway through, the chair caught. He tried to look behind him, but the rope pinned his shoulders, forcing him to face forwards. He let out a muffled curse, before trying to swing it upwards. It still fought back, and he swung harder, feet pressed against the floor as he tried to shimmy it. Whatever the chair leg had caught onto, it was high enough to be a problem. He let out a deep breath, before tugging harshly, chair swinging.
He’d clearly overestimated his force as the chair fell forward. He met the ground harshly, forehead slamming against the floor as he let out a quiet cry of pain. One of his hands caught under the armrest, and he could almost swear he heard a crunch as the wood pressed against his fingers, pinning them down with both the weight of the chair and his body that was tied to it. His knees had been caught in the crossfire, too, but they didn’t hurt even near as badly. Rope dug into his chest, leaning streaks of pain as he tried to figure out what to do next.
He eventually decided on trying to flip the chair so that he was on his side. It would, at the least, take the pressure off of his hand. He grunted, trying to prop himself up with his inhibited hand, before swinging himself to the right. The chair moved slightly, but didn’t flip. Instead, he was biting the gag to hold back a yell of pain as the wood pressed into his fingers, more weight against them. They definitely felt broken.
He tried once more, using momentum from his shoulder to try and help turn himself. The chair went further this time, lifting more off of the ground, but fell back to its original position just as quickly. Jake leaned his forehead against the floor as he tried to think, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hand the best he could. There was nothing sharp on the floor — nothing he could go slightly towards and position next to his hands to remove the tape. No wonder Geoffrey valued his possessions so much, considering the little amount he actually had.
He heard footsteps approaching the van, and cursed. He couldn’t move, stuck pinned to the floor as the door handle turned, the door flying open. Jake could hear Geoffrey’s footsteps as he sauntered in, something shuffling in his hands.
“What are you doing on the floor?” Geoffrey asked, before snorting, “Of course; trying to escape, weren’t you? Guess you weren't so lucky.”
Jake could hear something being placed on the counter, before hands grabbed his shoulders. He was hoisted back upright, and Jake immediately took the chance to look at his hand, flexing his fingers. They were red, pain resounding through them at the movement. They barely responded to the touch, instead letting streaks of blood roll from broken skin.
He looked up at the counter, where Geoffrey had immediately circled back to — Jake could barely make out the words on the paper, barely visible through the ex-lawyers’ hands as he shuffled through them. He was seemingly pleased with them as he smiled to himself, before placing them back down. Jake watched as he grabbed something from the corner of the van, placing it in front of him before finally taking off Jake’s gag.
“What are you doing?” Jake asked immediately, focused on the item in front of him.
Geoffrey turned to him, before grabbing the cloth, pulling it off to reveal a camera, “Using you to help get my life back. You’re going to admit to framing me for everything that got me into trouble.”
Jake scoffed, “Why would I admit to something that isn’t even true?”
“Because I’m the one with the gun, and you’re clearly at a disadvantage here. I don’t mind putting a bullet in your knee if that’ll give you more encouragement?”
Jake shut his mouth, choosing to sit back as Geoffrey turned, getting the queue cards ready. He flicked through them, making sure they were sorted, before he turned back to Jake, nodding, “Are you ready?”
Jake nodded back, not having much of a choice as the queue cards were held up in front of him. Geoffrey fiddled with the camera for a moment, before looking at Jake, waving one hand up as a signal for him to start talking. Jake looked down at the queue cards, beginning to read them out.
“Hi. My name is Jake Peralta, and this is my confession. I destroyed the good name of an American hero, Geoffrey Hoytsman.”
Jake held back a frown. American hero to who? He definitely wasn’t popular, or even good enough, for that. He bit back a remark as the paper shuffled, the next card coming into view.
“I framed him for drug possession, I got him fired from his job, and I planted his scrotal prints on the synagogue doorknobs.”
Geoffrey made an approving nod as he dropped the queue card, revealing the next. Jake read the cards in a monotone voice, eyes glancing between Geoffrey and the words.
“I am a horrible person who has done horrible things to a truly decent man, which is why I’ve decided to take my own life.”
Jake paused, before reading the last part again. He looked back up at Geoffrey, who looked almost gleeful.
“I really don’t think I’ve decided that.”
“Oh, no, you have!” Geoffrey said, nodding his head as he placed down the queue cards, leaning them against the tripod. Jake frowned, watching as he took the camera away, clicking through to watch the video again.
“Oh, this is perfect. What a natural actor you are!”
“You really don’t have to do this — if they find out what you’ve done, you will be going to prison this time, for good.”
“I have nothing more left to lose, Jake. You made sure of that for me. I’d rather take the chance to have my name cleared than live like this.”
“Trust me, Geoffrey-”
Jake hissed as something struck his temple, looking back up when he heard a cocking. The gun was pointed in his face, the hand sloppy as it wavered slightly.
“I don’t want your advice, Jake. Look at where I ended up last time. Do you really think I want you to send me down the wrong path again?”
Jake’s brows furrowed, “You can’t actually blame me for your own-”
The gun moved closer, digging into his forehead, and he quieted down. Geoffrey left it there for a moment, finger twitching near the trigger, before he pulled away, seemingly satisfied. Jake hadn’t realised he'd stopped breathing until his chest started to burn, quickly correcting himself as he relaxed in the chair he was tied to.
Someone knocked on the window.
Geoffrey looked up instantly, looking to the window, before looking back at Jake. A hand immediately went over Jake’s mouth to stop him from speaking as Geoffrey crouched down, speaking quietly.
“I’m not going to lie to you, I really need this sale. Hope you don’t mind if I make sure you don’t interrupt me?”
Jake make a face, but he didn’t get to respond further as the gun hit him again. Stars entered his vision as the gag came back up, and he didn’t bother with the effort of lifting his head as the window opened. He heard a yell, eyes going up to see Geoffrey rise, someone’s hands on his chest as he was pulled.
Jake could hear someone speaking as the door opened, but he couldn’t register their voices, the words muffled from outside. He blinked as hands reached for him, pulling at the tape from around his wrists. Soon too, the gag was taken from his mouth, and he groaned as someone pulled his hand to look at his fingers.
“Jesus, how did that happen?” Amy asked, holding his palm gently. He looked down at them, huffing.
“Trying to escape.”
Amy looked up at him. She almost looked guilty, biting her lip as she looked back down to assess the damage, “Should probably get that checked out.”
Jake got up slowly, stretching his legs and trying not to wince at bruised knees. He followed Amy out of the van, looking down at Rosa, who was kneeling next to a handcuffed Geoffrey.
“Did you really pull him out of the truck?”
“Seemed like the easiest option,” Rosa said, shrugging.
Jake snorted in response, before thinking, “How did you two even find me?”
“You stopped pestering us. Figured something was wrong,” Rosa started.
“Looked at those selfies you gave us — 3 of them had that van in the background.” Amy finished.
Jake turned to look at the ice cream van behind him, before humming. He turned back to look at Geoffrey, who had fallen silent, seemingly accepting his fate as he lay there.
“I can’t believe that guy orchestrated all of this. I mean, look at him.” Jake gestured towards him, Amy turning to follow.
“Come on, I’ll take you to fix your hand,” Amy said, turning towards the car, “You able to take him back to the precinct?”
“On it,” Rosa said, nodding. She pulled Geoffrey up, holding his arms as she began walking towards one of the pulled-up cars. Jake watched her walk away, leaning against the van as he crossed his arms. Amy followed for a moment, too, before turning back at him and pulling his shoulder towards her own car.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” He shrugged her hand off, rolling his eyes lightly.
“Never know with you, Jake.”
“What’s that meant to mean?”
Amy laughed quietly under her breath, before opening the passage side door. He got in without complaint, settling in on the — thankfully — comfortable chair. He leaned against the car door as Amy got in, starting the car quickly and pulling from the curb.