Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Hey Trance?” I asked just as he stood up straight.
He turned, and I got another look at his big cock, causing me to lick my lips.
He closed his eyes as if praying for patience before opening them again and backing up slowly. “Yeah?”
“Be careful, and hurry back.”
He grinned devilishly. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be counting down the minutes.”
Then he stepped into his pants, came back over to the bed, gave me another quick peck on the lips before going to the living room to finish dressing.
I stood; slipping on the white t-shirt I’d stolen from him when I’d stayed the night, and followed him out to the living room.
He already had on his vest, and was working on the shirt when he saw me.
He took in my braless state and me in his t-shirt, before saying, “Ah, fuck it.”
Needless to say, he was fifteen minutes late getting off of his lunch break.
***
Trance
“Lock the door,” I said as I headed to the door of Viddy’s apartment. “And set your alarm. Got it?”
She followed behind me, in the same t-shirt that had caused the delay earlier, nodding her head. “Sir, yes, sir!”
I turned and pinned her to the side of the door, crushing my lips to hers in a hurried kiss before breaking it off, and smacking her lightly on the ass. “I like that smart mouth of yours. Keep up the attitude and I’ll have to come up with something to keep your mouth occupied so all that sass doesn’t keep pouring out of it.”
She snorted at me, opened the door, and made a shooing gesture. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, big boy.”
I left, walking down to my car with both dogs hot on my heels.
After a quick visit to the grass for their potty break in the field behind the apartment complex, I let the dogs into the squad and called into dispatch.
As soon as I told dispatch I was back on duty, I headed for the Loop that was my main drag. I worked the Loop on weekend days since it seemed to be a hang out spot for the people of Benton. Since there wasn’t much to do, the teenagers always found a way to get in trouble by drag racing.
Which was why, only five minutes into my first run through, I spotted two cars drag racing with little thought to the other motorists on the road.
Picking up my radio, I called it in as I pulled a bitch, flipping my lights and sirens on. “Unit 5-2 responding to a 23109.”
“10-4.” Dispatch confirmed.
I was lucky that by the time I turned around, the two cars, a white newer model Dodge Charger, and a black Mustang GT, were stopped at a red light, motors revving.
They didn’t try to run, which was even better.
They both dutifully pulled into the Best Buy parking lot before shutting off their vehicles.
I went up to the Mustang first, asked for the young boy’s license and registration, before going over to the other vehicle. This man was older, and damn well knew better.
Dumb kids always egging on the adults. Dumb adults for always taking on the little kids.
Men, however, would never change.
I’d just done that very thing two days ago with my brothers in the car. Shit happened.
After writing them both a ticket, I delivered them, and sent them on their way before picking up where I left off on The Loop.
It was another hour into my shift before I got the creepiest call I’d ever gotten while working with The Benton PD.
“Unit 5-2, we’ve received multiple prank calls from 511 Baylor Drive on the South Side. Can you do a well-check?” The dispatcher asked.
“10-4.”
The residence I was supposed to be doing a well check on was completely dark when I pulled up.
It was the only one on the street that didn’t have lights, and the yard was so over grown that I knew immediately that whomever was living there before, definitely wasn’t living there anymore. The sign at the front said bank-owned property for sale, and it was evident that it’d been on the market for some time.
Letting both dogs out, I walked carefully to the door, stepping over large cracks in the sidewalk, and shining my light on either side of the window.
Both windows were still intact, which was surprising. Normally, in abandoned houses like this, squatters tended to stay in them, gaining entry by breaking in the easiest way possible.
The glass panes on either side of the door would’ve been the ideal way to gain entry.
Knocking on the wood of the door three times, I called out, “Benton PD.”
With no response, I knocked again. An eerie sense of déjà vu hit me, and I pivoted to the side as to offer up as little of my body as possible.
Which saved my life.
Three shotgun blasts went off at the same time, and I dropped down, hitting the intercom on my mic and shouting loudly. “Unit 5-2. Shots fired. Shots fired. Code 45.”
Once I was done yelling into my mic, I flipped the switch that would turn it off, and everything went eerily silent.
I’d hoped that I’d called out the right code seeing as they changed them just last week, but I assumed they’d figure it out as soon as they didn’t hear anything back from me. It was standard protocol to turn off one’s radio after letting dispatch know about your life being in danger. The radio most likely would be blowing up right about now dispatching units to this location, and if the radio was still on, whomever had done the shooting would likely hear it seizing with information.
Whoever was shooting shotgun rounds through the door went silent after running out of shells, and I stayed where I was, gun aiming at the trashed door without any knowledge of even pulling it out.
The dogs, both huddled down close to the ground, were quivering in anticipation, and I was glad that Kosher hadn’t lost his shit as soon as the shooting started.