by Seelie Kay
I was in my second-floor loft, dressed in a pair of cut-off shorts and a faded football jersey. My feet were bare, the bright pink nail polish applied during my last pedicure peeking up at me. I was sprawled out on the couch, but sat up to make room for Manders. He settled in beside me. I looked at the bottle he held and smiled. “My son drinks that crap during final exams. It will keep you up for at least forty-eight hours.”
Manders smirked. He was dressed in khakis and a pale blue golf shirt. Unlike his uniform, his shirt revealed a well-toned stomach and chest. I was sorely tempted to reach out and explore.
Instead, I asked, “Where’s your gun?”
He smiled and pulled a pistol out of the back of his waistband. “Freddy is always ready,” he said. He set it down on the coffee table.
I leaned forward and studied it, well aware my jersey was gaping at the neck. Let him look, I thought. Might as well have some fun. His gun was some sort of Glock, not regulation issue, but something I recognized from a recent shopping spree. I smiled at him. “Nice gun. I have a Glock nineteen.” I pulled it out from under a sofa cushion, and placed it next to his.
Manders looked surprised. Did he think I would sit there unprotected? “I take this out once a month to go to the shooting range. I haven’t actually needed it until now. Still, I think most of the time it’s better locked away. I don’t want to accidentally shoot a kid.” I gave Manders what I thought was a sultry smile and shrugged.
The cop studied me, his eyes filled with curiosity. Finally, he said, “I can’t believe you’re that Julianna Constant. The way the other guys described you, I thought you had three heads, ten balls, and a forked tail. I was warned to keep a hundred feet away in case you unleashed your claws. Instead, you look like a sweet little cheerleader, right down to the pink toenails. Well, except for the gun.”
I giggled. Yes, giggled. “What can I say? I am a ballbuster in court. I realize I look like a choirgirl, but I graduated top of my class and passed the Wisconsin Bar, something most of the attorneys in this state never had to do. I trained under the best—David Robel and Scott Wainright. I know what I am doing when I represent a client, and I do it well.”
He nodded. “Wainright had me for breakfast once. He was tough. I was a rookie, and sure enough, he knew how to exploit that. That guy had me so confused I could barely tell him my name.” He blushed. “Worst.time.in.court.ever.”
I leaned over and gently patted his leg. It was muscular and firm. Thoughts of those legs pinning mine wide open flashed through my head. Geeesh. “Poor baby. I like to think I can be tough when called for, but I tend to get more bees with honey than vinegar. That’s kind of been my philosophy my entire life.”
Manders reached over and brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I had you pegged for more of a black widow,” he murmured. “You know, chew ‘em up, spit ‘em out, watch ‘em die?” His finger strayed toward my lips, and he gently stroked my bottom lip.
I couldn’t help it. My hot tongue darted out of my mouth and licked.
Startled, Manders moved his hand to my arm and drew closer. He brushed his lips across mine and muttered, “Shit, this is so inappropriate.”
Click!
I sat up straight, signaling Manders to listen. The movie I was watching was still running and provided lots of background noise. However, I could still hear someone moving about the house.
Swish!
I heard the basement door slide open. I could just barely hear soft footsteps. Then the door closed. Manders pointed to my bedroom door. “Get in there and lock the door. I’ll get them when they come back up.”
I grabbed my gun, went into my room, and locked the door. I sat on my bed, but I kept the gun in my hand. I did not know who was in my basement, but if he or she had a weapon, I wanted to be ready. I realize now my thoughts were irrational, since a cop was in my house, but fear for my personal safety once again overrode my common sense. I waited five minutes. Then I got up and listened by the door. Nothing. I waited some more.
I heard the front door open. More footsteps. Then, nothing. At this point my bladder was protesting. I went into the master bath and relieved myself. The flush of the toilet seemed to fill the entire house.
Then I heard a scuffle and a “Hey, let go!” It sounded like a teenager, a boy.
Manders said sternly, “Settle down, kid.”
Harrison exclaimed, “Damn, the kid bit me!” More scuffling, then silence.
I grabbed my gun, moved back to my bedroom door and flipped the lock. I slid the door open an inch and listened. All was quiet.
A large hand reached around the end of the door, and it began to slide open. I assumed the position and pointed the gun. When Manders appeared before me, I emitted a large sigh of relief. I lowered my weapon.
Manders smirked. “You were going to shoot me after only one kiss?”
I rolled my eyes and went back into my closet, locking the gun away.
“We’ve got your garage dweller. Says he is a friend of your son’s. Claims Danny gave him permission to stay in the garage and has been bringing him food.”
I grabbed my phone and hit speed dial. When Danny picked up, all I said was, “I want your butt home in five. Tell your boss it’s a family emergency.” I disconnected.
I looked at Manders, puzzled. “Who is it?”
“No I.D., and the kid isn’t talking. Come on downstairs and see if you know him.”
I walked down the stairs, Manders behind me, and turned into the living room. On the sofa, his hands bound with flexi-cuffs, sat a kid I had known since he was in kindergarten.
“What the hell, Mikey,” I exclaimed, “You’re the one who has been sneaking around my house in the middle of the night?”
Mikey had the decency to look ashamed. “It’s not like that,” he began.
Danny shoved the front door open and hurried in. He spotted Mikey and fury clouded his face. He walked up to Mikey and slapped his head. “What the fuck, Mike? What the hell are you doing scaring my mom half to death?” He picked up the phone and took a photo. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t post this on Facebook.”
Harrison said, “He says you let him stay in the garage and swiped food for him.”
“No way, man.” Danny started to push buttons on his phone and stuck it in Mikey’s face. “Tell the police the truth, or I am going to slap your ass all over the Internet. Start talking, now.”
I tried not to laugh. The apple did not fall far from the tree. Even Manders looked amused. Only Harrison looked pissed. He was still nursing the bite on his finger.
Mikey Hammond had been a classmate of Danny’s since grade school. I knew he was bussed in every day from the inner city, but had never met his parents. The kid had been over for dinner and birthday parties multiple times since he was five. He also hung out with Danny’s band, which practiced in the basement. He had had the run of the house. Mikey was a handsome kid, tall, black, and lean. The girls flocked to him. As far as I knew, he had never been in trouble. This made no sense.
Danny glared at him, his stance threatening.
A single tear dripped down Mikey’s face and he sniffled. Finally, he looked at me. “I’m sorry, Mrs. C. I didn’t have anywhere to go. My Ma kicked me out and I was staying with Billy, but then his mom kicked me out, too. Your garage was my only option.”
“How did you get in there? It was locked.” I didn’t know whether to pity Mikey or kick him, but he had still broken into my house and frightened the bejesus out of me.
“Oh, that was so easy. Every time the band practiced, I just left a door unlocked and snuck back in after dark.”
I shot a pointed look at Danny. “It’s your job to lock up at night. What, you weren’t paying attention?” I am quite sure my face was a picture of frustration. Teens are a challenge on a good day. It’s like their brains went out to dinner and never returned. I had requested he check all the doors each night, emphasizing the importance of m
aking the house secure, especially with his band and their entourage always in and out. However, we lived in a nice suburb. Danny felt safe. He thought all the locks and bolts on the doors were overkill. I was pissed that he hadn’t taken my instructions seriously.
Danny’s young face turned beet red. He scuffed his shoe on the floor and looked up at me. Guilty as charged. “Mom, I did my best,” he managed to squeak out. “I must have missed a few.”
“Naw,” said Mikey. “I was just smarter than you. You locked a door, I unlocked it. It was pretty simple.”
Manders cleared his throat. “Mrs. Constant, what do you want to do with Mike? We can charge him with trespassing, or we can remove him from the premises with a warning or TRO.”
I looked at Mikey. I did not want to kick someone when they were down, but he had displayed an astonishing lack of respect for me and my home. I was not about to let him off easy. I knew that was what he expected. “Mikey, if I ever see you in or near my home again, I will charge you with trespass and anything else the police can throw at you. You are no longer welcome here.” I looked at Harrison. “Where’s the closest homeless shelter?”
Harrison shrugged. “He’s sixteen. Under the law, he’s a runaway. I have to return him to his parents, notify the school, and file a report. And there is still the matter of assaulting a police officer.”
Mikey looked pale. “Hey man, I was scared. And I didn’t bite you that hard.”
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t commit a crime,” Harrison snapped.
Danny’s face was still filled with anger. He was taping everything. I knew what a group of kids was capable of unleashing on the Internet. I had a feeling Mikey was about to become a star.
I shrugged. “No more or less than he deserves. Good-bye, Mikey. Have a nice life.” I turned away from his pleading eyes.
Harrison took Mikey out to a police car that had mysteriously appeared on my driveway. Harrison must have been parked somewhere down the block.
Manders turned to me and said, “I’ll let you know when he has been delivered to his parents. He is their responsibility. Always has been.” He nodded and started to walk out the door.
I can’t explain my feelings at that moment. I was relieved that the incident was behind us, but I was seriously attracted to Manders. As stupid as it would be to get involved with a cop, I wanted to see him again. I walked to him, stood on tippy-toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” I said softly. “Thank you for taking me seriously.”
He smiled and nodded. “We aim to serve. You’ll need to come down to the station tomorrow to complete the paperwork.” He stepped out the door. “Lock the door behind me.”
I did lock the door and turned to my son. Without a word, Danny scampered away. I wasn’t in the mood for an encounter with an overemotional teenager, so I headed back upstairs. “I’m going to bed,” I shouted. Suddenly, I was exhausted. I shut off the TV and entered my bedroom. I pulled off my clothes and flopped face down on the bed. Tomorrow was another day.
Sure, I forgot to check that the other doors were manually locked, but I assumed the police had taken care of that. Besides, the garage dweller was under lock and key, or so I hoped. All I cared about at that moment was sleep.
I dreamt about Manders that night.
David spooned against me, his hard cock pushing between my legs. He caressed my breast as he began to kiss the back of my neck. “Are you awake?” he asked in a low, seductive voice.
I giggled and pushed back against him. “That depends on what you’re waking me up for.”
Without a word, he picked up my leg, opening me wide, and slid inside my hot, welcoming passage. I moaned as he filled me. We fit together perfectly. I felt complete.
Gently, David began to thrust. “Don’t fall back asleep, now,” he whispered. “I want all of you.”
Sleepily, I joined him in a passionate mating, meeting each thrust as he toyed with my nipples, pinching and pulling. Then his hand drifted to my mons and his finger found that tiny button of pleasure. At first, he administered a gentle massage, but then he became more aggressive, and began pinching.
I writhed and moaned, sleep drifting into a blissful sense of euphoria. I began to chuckle, the slow rumble of my orgasm brewing up within me, the joy bubbling forth in a giggle.
David continued to thrust hard, his balls now slapping against my ass.
His passion consumed me. I began to shudder, slipping into a world ruled by flashes of color. “David,” I murmured. I was ready to let go.
David pulled back and then thrust into me hard. I exploded and bucked against him. He grabbed my hips and held me tightly, releasing within me. Then we settled. I fell asleep with him still inside me, wishing we could always sleep that way.
I awoke when David pushed me onto my back and pulled my left arm up and over to the side. I opened one eye as I heard the distinctive, Click! of a handcuff. I looked up at him and smiled. “Well, good morning, love,” I said sweetly. “You appear to have me in a bind.”
David crawled on top of me, holding his weight up on his arms. He leaned in and claimed my mouth, his tongue demanding entrance. We engaged in a slow, sensual dance of passion, and then I heard a second, Click!
David chuckled. “Bet you thought I only traveled with one set of handcuffs, didn’t you?”
I sat up in bed with a start and fumbled for the remote by my bed. On the third try, I grasped it. It was barely 5 AM. Then I heard it again, Click! Someone was in my house, again. I hit the lock button on the remote. If the security system still worked, the doors in both Danny’s bedroom and mine were secured. I texted Danny, “Are you in your bedroom? I heard a noise.”
The 911 button lit up on the security panel. Danny had called the police. Then he hit the alarm. That was the signal that he was okay, but locked into his room. The loud beeping noise was intended to scare intruders away.
It was difficult to hear anything, but I thought I heard the door to the deck slide open. I got a text from Danny, “He ran out onto the deck.”
I replied, “Wait for the police. Stay in your room.”
This was a drill we had practiced ad nauseum when the system was first installed. I was a woman who valued order and safety. We had fire drills, security drills, and tornado drills. Once I became a mother, I took no chances. Danny had learned how to break and crawl out a window during a fire, run to the basement and secure himself under the stairs in bad weather, and work the security system in the case of a home invasion. Just because we never turned the system on did not mean we knew nothing about operating the backup security system. I was sure Danny was sitting on his bed, away from the windows, with a baseball bat in hand. It was the only weapon I had felt safe giving him.
A minute later there was a pounding on the front door, and my phone rang. I picked it up, my heart racing, my hand shaking. “Mrs. Constant? This is Officer Dawson, Badge Number two-three-nine-one-two. Please check for verification. We got an alert that there was a home invasion. Are you alright? Can you unlock the door?”
I checked my phone and confirmed the badge number. Then I hit another button on the remote. My voice was shaky but firm. “The locks on the front door have been released. We will stay in our rooms until you give us the all clear, but the intruder ran out onto the deck.”
When our security system was installed, I had questioned the efficiency of a two-power source system. The technician explained that if the power to one source was cut, it would not affect the other. That meant if someone managed to cut the phone lines, the secondary system would still operate. It was technically powered by a cell phone tower. All I had to do was store the remote in the docking station used for all my electronics, such as my phone and tablet. As dumb as I had thought all that technogook was—because seriously, this was Little River, who would cut my phone line—I was now extremely grateful. The backup system had worked.
“Rodger that, ma’am.”
Ten minutes later, my phone r
ang. “We got him, Mrs. Constant. He was alone. We found him hiding under your deck. I’ll bring him to the front porch. You can view him through the window. There is no need to speak to him.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll be right down.” I slipped into a robe and went downstairs to the front door.
Danny joined me. He flipped open the window shade. Mikey. Danny yanked open the front door, his face once again filled with fury. He yelled, “Dammit, Mikey. What the hell is wrong with you? This is sick man, real sick.”
“I needed my laundry back, dude. What else was I supposed to do?”
Officer Dawson spoke up. “Kid slept under the deck last night. Found a sleeping bag there.”
I sighed. “Mikey, you can’t live here. All of your antics have turned me into a bundle of nerves. I don’t trust you, and I don’t feel safe around you. You need to go back home.”
“My mom kicked me out again last night. Said I was too much trouble. Told me to go to back to the white lady’s house. What was I supposed to do?”
I looked at Mikey with dismay. I felt helpless. I knew he would be sent to juvie or into foster care, but I could not provide the supervision he required. My ex-husband shared custody of Danny. The schedule was one week on, one week off. When Danny was gone, I put in long hours at work. It was the only way I could balance my role as a mother and as an attorney. Another kid in the mix was not an option. Especially one I no longer trusted. I sighed and looked at Dawson. “What now?”
“Do you want to press charges? He violated the protection order. Normally, we’d keep him overnight and then put him into a juvenile holding center. If you don’t want to charge him, we’ll call social services. They will have to work with the parents and come up with a solution. Technically, his parents are responsible for him until he is eighteen. CSS will probably place him with a relative.”
“Nana’s. I want to go to my Nana’s. She lives in Arlington Heights. This place sucks.” Mikey’s face was defiant, but scared.