by M. N. Forgy
I pat him down, finding a baggie of weed, and crack in his back pocket. Jesus Christ. He’s a fucking kid. It angers me to see these drug lords finding such young kids and giving them such powerful drugs to deal.
“Why are you out here dealing this crap?” I ask, tossing the shit on the hood.
He sneers as if I’m an idiot.
“You wouldn’t know shit about living out here,” he spits back.
“So why don’t you tell me then, make me see it.” I cross my arms, intrigued to hear his story. I know it won’t be pretty, and that is why I take compassion on cases like this. Because I do understand. I’ve seen mothers stealing milk from grocery stores just to feed their children. I’ve seen kids running drugs because they got kicked out of school. The streets are hard, and I want to help.
“My mom is sick, and nobody will hire me because of where I live. I’m doing what I have to, to take care of my family,” he informs with more confidence than a lot of people I find dealing dope do. They either blame it on a friend, or it’s not theirs. Something stupid.
“Your loyalty is admirable,” I mutter. He shakes his head, not saying anything. I can tell he’s the strong, quiet type.
“Who do you work for?” I interrogate, hoping he will tell me so I can bust the fuck who is hiring out kids. He doesn’t speak a word though.
Feeling my back pocket for cash I pull out two-hundred bucks, I can’t remember why it’s there, probably forgot to pay a bill, and toss it in front of him.
“Tell whomever you work for you’re done,” I demand.
Bishop turns around, eyeing me like I’ve lost my mind. “My boss ain’t just going to let me go,” he laughs condescendingly.
“You work for the Sin City Outlaws now,” I continue and the boy’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. He knows as well as I do nobody will question the Outlaws. “You’re done with this shit. You are going to head over to their club and tell them… Jillian sent you.” Nobody will care if I sent him, but they will if Queen Jillian did. “They will put you to work, and protect you if you have what it takes,” I offer, totally throwing Jillian under the bus. Drug lords out here don’t give a shit about these kids. If Bishop runs into trouble, they will turn their back or kill them. He’s lived his life in the throes of the streets, so there is no rehabilitating him.
Bishop lowers his head, rubbing at his cheeks as he mulls it over.
“It’s that, or I take you in,” I clip.
His blue eyes shoot to mine, a tick in his hard jaw. He knows as well as I do that if whoever he works for catches wind of him being taken in by the cops, he’s in trouble. I don’t want to put him in harm’s way, that is why I’m doing this in the first place.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” he swipes the cash from the hood with force.
“Good.” I give a curt nod. “Head over there now then.”
Bishop walks away, looking over his shoulder at me before turning the corner.
I could have taken him in, but he would just be back out here slinging drugs tonight. He’d be shot or killed before he was twenty-one. At least with the Outlaws, he will have a better chance at surviving the streets because he’s shit at dealing drugs. I spotted him easily.
Grabbing the drugs off the hood of my car, I sling them into the gutter of the street. The rainwater taking them down the sewer. Sliding into my cruiser, I look at the MDT to make sure I didn’t miss a call. I’m supposed to pick Raven up here soon, she had a family meeting and is starting her shift late.
Looking down the street, I watch trash tumble across the grimy street, the blazing sun causing a haze to waft from the pavement. It’s not the prettiest scenery, but it’s typically quiet back here.
A knock on my window has me scream and nearly spill my coffee. It’s fucking Felix.
Rolling my window down I have the sudden urge to tase him for scaring the shit out of me.
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find me?” I ramble off a series of questions.
“I can always find you, Black Bird,” he replies huskily. His words coming out with promise and making my toes curl in my boots. “Your suspect is getting away,” he mouths, pointing in the direction of where Bishop just turned.
Pursing my lips, I look away. Fuck, I’ve been caught being a bad cop. Again.
He leans down resting his arms on the window seal. “We need to talk,” he demands.
I shake my head. “No, we don’t. I told you to leave me alone.”
He laughs. “Yeah, you don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I do. Besides, you think I’m an asshole, and I’m not an asshole, you’re just being a bitch.”
Jerking my door open, I climb out and shove Felix with all my might. Having enough of him and his damn controlling ways.
“What the hell is your problem!” I shove him again, knocking him back a few steps. He flicks his chin with his fingers, a smirk pulling at his lips. Lips I remember tasting and biting last night. He’s amused by my temper, go figure.
Reaching out to shove him one last time, he lashes out and takes my wrist into his hard grasp. He jerks me to get my attention, and my eyes flutter with the amount of control he has. Reminding me how strong, and virile he really is.
“You. You are my fucking problem!” he seethes in my face. His dark eyes holding me where I stand. I relax in his hold and take a ragged breath. I hate how I want him and don’t, all at the same time. It’s tiring, and I can’t tell if I want to run or climb him like a tree.
He steps forward, pushing me backward. “Can we talk?” he says calmly, his wild eyes looking me up and down.
I don’t respond as I clench my teeth. I hear the door to my cruiser open, and I’m shoved into the back seat. The hard plastic biting into my back. He climbs over me, shutting the door behind him.
“You don’t want to fucking talk? Fine, how about we just let our bodies figure this shit out then, huh?” He tilts his head to the side as his fingers fling off my utility belt. My body comes alive, but my pride defies the warmth building in my chest.
“I’m still a cop,” I remind him.
“Shut up,” he snaps, his hands sliding up my arms and pinning them above my head, his lips brushing against my skin and my eyes roll into the back of my head. He’s right, our bodies have a language of their own.
Sexual impulse races through my veins and I can’t help but pull from his grip and grab him by the back of the neck, pulling his mouth to mine. Needing him closer to me, to touch him, and taste him.
He chased me down. He’s here with me. That stands for something, right?
I’ve never had a man go to great lengths to get my attention before.
Placing my feet on the door, I lift my ass off the seat as he shimmies my pants and panties down to my knees. The warmth of him in-between my legs blazes to my core making my clit tick in excitement. Unzipping his jeans, I see the outline of his length and my heart begins to flutter with the anticipation of his cock filling me, stretching me into bliss.
Shoving his hand down his pants he pulls it out, and it’s hard and long with a bead of excitement about to drip from the tip. Leaning forward I flick my tongue at it and his hand slips into my hair softly.
“Take me in your mouth,” he whispers. Keeping my eyes on him, I open my mouth and he slides it in. The ridge of the tip skimming along my teeth slightly as it hits the back of my throat. Hollowing out my cheeks I suck with all my might, and he hisses with satisfaction as his head lolls back.
“Oh fuck, right there,” he grounds out between clenched teeth.
I bob my head back and forth, his cock pulsing in my mouth every time my lips come in contact with the tip. He is salty and sweet all at the same time.
Letting go of my hair he presses on my chest, pushing me back down onto the seat
He raises my legs, my pants around my ankles and raises them over his head, my legs wrapped around his strong torso. Keeping him close.
The windows begin to fog with our heavy breathing, the radio in
the front going off about a robbery in progress. I don’t fucking care though, all I can think about is Felix on top of me. Inside of me.
Using a single finger, he slides it between my legs and through my wetness. My hips buck on their own accord a moan spilling from my lips.
“I love that sound,” he whispers, positioning himself between my thighs.
The tip hits my heat, and then with one quick jerk he’s inside of me. Bare.
I feel all of him. The veins, the tip, the ridge. My toes curl in my boots, my eyes rolling in the back of my head as I push my hips up to gain more friction.
The car rocks as he drives into me over and over again, each thrust taking me higher into the field of pleasure. The way he feels on top of me brings a sense of security and comfort. The heat of his body soaking into mine, our bodies tangled into one. It’s as if we can’t get enough of each other. What we have is forbidden by the public’s eye, but how can it when it feels this good between my legs? His teeth nip at my earlobe, and his hand cradles my neck. This right here, him holding my neck does something to me I will never be able to explain.
The sound of voices outside the cruiser cause me to hold my breath in panic, and Felix’s eyes shoot up. Using his hand, he cups my mouth, keeping an eye on the people just outside the window.
Slowly, he continues to fuck me. The excitement we might get caught, the forbiddenness of us being together heightening my arousal that much more.
“Oh fuck, the cops are on our block. We better warn the rest.” A deep voice sounds from just outside the window.
“Fucking pigs!” A kick sounds at the front of the car, as if someone just kicked it.
The voices become lighter as they drift further down the block. Felix keeps his eye on the window, but I can’t take my eyes off of him as he continues to fuck me.
As if he can sense me staring at him he looks down at me, his long hair falling in his face.
A smile pulls at his hard lips and pressure builds in my core where I begin to move with him. His brows narrow as he picks up the pace, the car begins to rock and I tense as a rush of bliss makes me feel so high I don’t want to come down.
I release everything in my being, giving it over to Felix. He tenses, his body jerking as warmth fills my pussy.
We still, trying to catch our breath. Staring into one another’s eyes.
I tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear, my stomach in knots with what I’m about to ask but I can’t keep up with his games.
“What are we doing here, Felix?”
He sighs heavily and rubs my cheek softly.
“I don’t know,” he whispers honestly. “I won’t love you. I’m not capable of the emotion,” he admits.
Tilting my cramped neck to the side, I narrow my brows. “Well, I won’t love you back,” I laugh, and he smiles. God when he smiles, which isn’t often, it’s as if someone literally just ripped my heart from my chest. It’s so rugged, lazy, yet incredibly handsome. Just like a biker should smile.
“I can’t make up my mind what I want when it comes to you. You… scare me,” he whispers, tucking a hair behind his ear. Squinting my eyes, I squirm under him because I too am scared of him. He makes me feel things that aren’t normal, nothing about us being together is normal.
“I should be going, I have to pick up Raven,” I tell him.
He nods. “Be back at the clubhouse tonight,” he demands, rather than asks. I want to confide my insecurities of being at the club. Tell him how much I want to claw Gia and Dolly’s eyes out, but I know first hand how un-sexy that is. I need to stand my ground when it comes to those two hooches.
I fidget under him, everything about this morning returning. Gia and Dolly.
“I didn’t fuck them,” he confides, and my eyes shoot to his. It’s as if he read my mind. “I’m many things but I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I don’t care,” I shrug, looking to the side.
“Right,” he scoffs, before sitting up. “I guess you storming out this morning is how you normally act after getting fucked to the point you forget how to breathe?” He shoots me a look and I swallow hard. He has me there, I was pissed and wanted out of there this morning and wouldn’t normally act that way after a night of unforgettable sex.
“What did you expect when I was bombarded with women who can give you things I can’t?” I avoid eye contact as I just revealed my insecurities.
“Who says you can’t?” he replies ruggedly. Ignoring him I reach down to pull my pants up and then it hits me. We are in the back seat. The doors lock from the inside.
“Um, Felix? How are we going to get out?”
He looks around. “Shit, I forgot about that,” he states irritated. He tries to roll the window down, but it doesn’t work. He grabs the faceplate on the door handle and jerks it off in one pull, breaking it. He really is like Tarzan.
“What are you doing?” I gasp in horror. He grabs at the wires, piecing them together, and then tries the window again. It rolls down. My mouth drops in astonishment.
Reaching out the window he opens the door from the outside and climbs out. Meanwhile, I’m still sitting here looking at the door like an idiot. How did he know how to do that? Wait, who am I kidding. He’s a fucking criminal, and the way he fucks me so good, I often forget that. I slide out of the backseat and go about fixing my hair as he rolls the window back up and tries to put the faceplate back the way it was. But it’s broken, there is no fixing it.
“I’ll figure something out. I’ll arrest someone and blame it on them or something,” I tell him.
He chuckles, shutting the door. Grabbing me by the shirt he pulls me to him and bites at my lips, but I pull away before he can make contact. God, I just want to lay in that back seat with him all day.
“Go get the bad guys.” He stops, looking at the sky with an odd look. “Or let them go, I’m not really sure what it is you do.” He tilts his head to the side and I flip him off. He has no idea what it’s like to have to judge every person that walks my way.
“I only arrest the ones who deserve it. That boy is just in a tough situation; he didn’t deserve to have his life ruined when I had the potential to possibly change it for the better.” I shrug. Felix’s whole face softens, as he looks at me with an unreadable look.
“What?”
He shakes his head, turning away. Giving a second look, he glances at me with dark eyes before making his way to his bike. There was something unspoken there, I just don’t know what it was.
Why does this have to be so hard?
***
“How’d the family meeting go? Everything okay?” I ask Raven as she slides into the cruiser. Her hair is messy, and her uniform is wrinkled. She smells like dirt, and her eyes have dark circles under them like she’d been crying.
She looks at me with a confused look before snapping to. “Oh! Yeah, it will be,” she fake smiles, buckling up. I smile, not really sure what she’s talking about. Then again, Raven is an odd girl.
Raising my hand to flip her visor up, Raven flinches and slaps at me out of fear. My eyes widen, as she looks at me with pinched brows.
“I’m sorry. I…”
“No, it’s okay,” I assure her, but my curiosity has me wondering why she just acted like a battered wife when I raised my hand.
“I just need some coffee or something. Didn’t get much sleep,” she mutters, looking out the window with red cheeks.
“I can always do coffee,” I mask a smile and head toward my favorite coffee shop.
***
“So how have you been?” Raven asks as we sit outside the coffee shop. I shrug, eyeing the MDT with my coffee in hand. I can smell Felix on me, smell our scent lingering from the back seat.
“Fine, I guess.” I try and mask my after sex glow, my walking on cloud fucking nine excitement.
She scoffs. “Yeah right. I can tell something is going on. Is it something with Jillian or the club?”
I lift an eye at her and her intrusive quest
ioning. I wonder if she saw me with Felix or another member. Wouldn’t surprise me the way The Sin City Outlaws are always following me around.
“There is a 403, at Rangeline,” I change the subject.
“Oh a prowler!” Raven says with excitement. I flinch that she actually knows that code, she never knows them. Looks like someone did their homework. Or got lucky.
“Yes… it is,” I say, eyeing her from the side.
I blow out a breath and turn the sirens on, heading in the way of the chaos and mischief.
Pulling up to the residence it’s a small one-story house in a neighborhood that doesn’t normally get a lot of violence. The house looks empty, as there’s no blinds or curtains in the windows. There are flowerbeds out front, and a birdbath right in the center. A stone walkway leads to the front door - which is open.
“731, we are on scene of the 403,” I inform dispatch.
“Copy that. 14:15,” dispatch replies back with the time.
Getting out of the car, I pull my gun from my holster and look around the parameter. Raven steps in front of me, obviously wanting to take charge. I let her, as she really needs the experience.
She steps into the house, making sure to look both ways with her gun raised.
“Las Vegas Police!” I announce, but it’s silent.
Raven steps into the other room, before coming out of a door behind me.
“It’s clear,” she huffs out of breath. Lowering my gun, I narrow my brows at the scene, or lack thereof.
“The front door is open, but nothing is taken or disturbed,” I inform, stepping into the kitchen.
Just then a sharp, hot pain radiates through my lower abdomen. Lowering my head to the pain, I notice a black-gloved hand pull a small knife out of my stomach. Blood spills behind the blade, staining my uniform and dripping on the cracked tile. My lips tremble as I follow the hand to an arm of a masked man or woman. Blood drips so fast from the cut, I become woozy instantly. I fall to the floor, clutching my side to try and stop the bleeding. The intruder leans down, and I grab for my gun. He snatches my radio and kicks me over before I can even get my gun out.