"Stop! Police! Hold it, right there!"
Karen Troy stood, legs spread, her handgun held at arm's length in front of her. The drug bust that had gone down just moments earlier had netted the cops a fine haul of illegal substances that would no longer find their way to the streets. Four men had occupied the seedy apartment when Karen and her fellow officers had burst in with one of them managing to make a break for it out the window. The athletic young man had slipped down the fire escape like a monkey, and let out up the alley. A squad car headed him off at the alley's end, and he doubled back running right into Karen.
The desperate looking criminal stopped a dozen feet away his eyes wild. He looked around for a way out, but none presented itself.
"You got nowhere to go! Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head!" ordered Karen.
A flicker of fear mixed with desperation crossed the young man's face. His hand went toward his belt, slipping under his loose-fitting button-down shirt.
"Don't do it! I said freeze!"
He moved. The sound of Karen's weapon discharging in the narrow alleyway was deafening. A single round struck the suspect in the upper chest sending him spiraling to the ground.
Karen froze in place the scene playing out in slow motion in her mind. A pair of uniformed police officers arrived with their guns drawn from the opposite end of the alley. One of them covered the wounded young man while the other pulled back his shirt. A small handgun, probably a .22 was pushed down in the top of his pants.
"You can lower the gun, Karen, you got the punk," said her partner Howard Mannix from behind her.
Her arms wouldn't move. It was like they were cast from marble, and she had become a statue. Howard walked closer pushing her arms down himself.
"It was a clean shoot, Karen. The kid was going for his piece."
Karen looked briefly at Howard and then back down to the kid on the ground. His curly dark hair fell around a face with swarthy skin and Italian features. It wasn't Ronnie Foreman, but they looked so much alike they could have passed for each other at a glance.
"You o.k.?" asked her partner.
"Sure...fine..."
How could she explain that she had hesitated almost fatally because the suspect looked like her teenage lover?
She holstered her weapon walking away to stand alone near the head of the alley. An ambulance turned onto the cross street a minute later its siren preceding its arrival by a wide margin. Paramedics rushed into the alley with a gurney heading for the kid on the ground. Karen watched them work her face impassive, but emotions churning beneath the surface.
"We need to wait for Internal Affairs. They will want to talk to you. I have to bag your gun, Karen," said Mannix with a surprising amount of sympathy in his usual sarcastic tone.
She handed over the weapon without a word.
"It was a clean shoot," repeated Mannix, "you got nothing to worry about."
"Yeah...nothing at all," replied Karen.
The gurney was wheeled past her, the kids face pale and lifeless although his chest was still rising and falling, so at least for the moment, he was alive. The ambulance sped away in a cacophony of sirens and lights.
Karen had to work her key into the worn deadbolt lock on her front door. The damn thing was always sticking, and she thought for the hundredth time that she should get it replaced. The meeting with Internal Affairs had gone about as she had expected. All shootings in the line of duty had to be investigated, but the early consensus seemed to be that this one was entirely justified. It still meant that she would be tied to a desk for a few days until things were wrapped up.
The house was surprisingly quiet. Typically, she would have been assaulted by the sounds of loud music coming from her son's room.
"I could use a quiet night," thought Karen as she tossed her keys in the bowl on the table by the door.
A sound did reach her ears at that point, a scraping noise coming from the direction of the kitchen. Karen moved forward cautiously, reaching for her weapon, but realizing at the last second that her holster was empty. She had a backup piece strapped to her ankle, but for the moment she decided against drawing it. The hallway leading to the kitchen was covered by a thick runner that muffled her footsteps. Another noise came from the same direction, a human voice, singing in a very off-key fashion. Karen smiled as she turned the corner.
"I hope you don't burn dinner this time."
"Holy Shit! Ms. Troy!" yelled Ronnie Foreman nearly dropping the mixing bowl he had in both hands.
"You scared the shit out of me! What are you part Ninja?"
Ronnie was her son's best friend, and following the events of a drug sting the previous year, Karen's lover. The twenty-year age difference between them made for some awkward pillow talk sometimes, but Karen couldn't complain about the young man's abilities between the sheets. He had brought her to more Earth-shaking orgasms than she could count since they had gotten together. Six months earlier, Ronnie had come to live with her and her son, Charlie, after his mother had lost her battle with alcoholism once again and ended up in rehab. The arrangement certainly made it easier to keep their relationship going without raising suspicion from anyone.
"Where's Charlie?"
"Band practice. I think this new group he has got going is turning into a solid outfit. They finally got a drummer who can keep time. When he makes it big, I hope he remembers all us little people."
"What are we having tonight," said Karen moving closer.
"My world famous meatloaf! Well...It's at least famous in this neighborhood, or it will be when you have some."
Ronnie turned fully around to face his best friends mother his curly, dark hair slipping down over one eye. Karen was momentarily transported back to the alley watching the muzzle flash of her service weapon, hearing the sound of a falling body striking the ground.
Her hands reached out pulling the mixing bowl from his grip and setting it down on the counter.
"I've told you before when we're alone you can call me Karen," she said softly.
"Karen...I know...I like calling you that," he replied a slow smile splitting his firm lips.
Karen grasped the front of Ronnie's t-shirt pulling him toward her almost violently his chest crashing into her large breasts. Her mouth covered his in a fierce kiss with her tongue slamming forward adding a sexy hunger to the embrace. The kiss lingered, her tongue moving all around inside Ronnie's mouth sending so much pleasure rolling through his young body that his knees began to shake. When their lips finally parted he was panting trying to regain his breath.
