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The following piece of fiction contains strong sexual
content and is meant to be read only by adults. If you
are not at least 18 years old, or if you are offended by
this type of material, please do not read any further.
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"Adrenaline Games"
by DG
They took him into Interview Three, a cell-like room with
cinderblock walls painted a sickening shade of light green.
Jackson pulled out a plastic and metal chair and said "Have a
seat, Andrew."
The kid was looking around at the dingy room like he was
inspecting an apartment he might want to rent.
"Wow, so this is where you interview the bad guys..." He
took a deep breath. "What is that, ammonia?"
"Sit your ass down," said Turk. He kicked the chair, and it
scraped across the cement floor and hit the kid in the leg.
"OK, you must be Bad Cop," said the kid, and he sat down.
"Who the fuck you calling a bad cop?" asked Turk. "I oughta
kick your ass, you little shit."
"No, no, I mean like Good Cop/Bad Cop - you know, where one
cop pretends to be nice, and the -"
"He knows what you meant," said Jackson wearily. He was a
heavyset black man in his forties, and he had the air of man who
had seen it all and was sick of it. He dropped into a chair
across the little wooden table from the kid with a sigh. His
partner remained standing. Turk had too much energy to sit for
long, even at two in the morning.
Jackson watched the kid for a few seconds, trying to assess
his mental state. Nervous, maybe a little excited, but not
scared. Probably sober.
"OK, Andrew, listen carefully. You have the right to remain
silent. If you choose to waive that right, anything you say can
and will be used against you in a court of law."
The kid smiled. "I understand my rights, Detective Jackson.
And I don't want a lawyer."
Jackson nodded. "OK, that's good. You cooperate, tell us
everything that happened, that's the best thing you can do for
yourself, believe me." He started the tape recorder on the table
and spoke the date and the time.
"State your name, age, and occupation."
"My name is Andrew Miller. I'm twenty-one years old, and I'm
a full-time student at Landover."
Jackson nodded. The kid had Landover written all over him -
the expensive casual clothes, the trendy haircut, the polite but
condescending attitude. They had picked him up at an off-campus
apartment after a woman had showed up at the station, said she had
been raped, and given his name and address.
"Do you know a woman named Sarah Glassman?"
"Sure."
"Did you see her this evening?"
"Yes I did."
"Did you have sexual intercourse with Miss Glassman this
evening?"
"Yes I did. Consensual sex."
Turk snorted. "Sure it was. Once you tied her up and gagged
her, she didn't protest at all, right Miller?" He walked around
the table and stood behind the kid, a menacing presence with his
slicked-back hair and square jaw.
The kid craned his head around to follow Turk, and said "She
didn't protest before or during, Detective. Only after."
Jackson glanced at Turk. So the kid wasn't going to deny the
incident, that was a little unexpected. Most rapists denied
everything at first, and didn't change their story until the
physical evidence started rolling in. "We'll get to that in a
minute, Andrew. I want to get some more background first.
Is Sarah Glassman your girlfriend?"
"Not exactly. We're friends, though."
"Had you had sex with her previous to tonight?"
"Yes."
"How many times?"
The kid puffed out his cheeks, making an elaborate show of
thinking about it, like he had so much sex it was hard to keep it
all straight. Shit, he was a good-looking kid, maybe he did get
it all the time.
"Maybe ten times or so. I can't remember for sure."
"Uh huh. But she isn't your girlfriend?"
The kid smiled sheepishly. "Well, you know how it is...not
my steady girlfriend."
"Yeah, we know how it is," said Turk sarcastically. He was
pacing around the room like tall, thin cat. "We just fuck 'em and
leave em, right Roy?"
"OK, Turk, take it easy." Jackson turned back to the kid and
said "So Sarah was a friend of yours who you occasionally had sex
with, and tonight was one of those occasions."
"That's right. Is that a one-way mirror?" The kid pointed
to the mirror, which had a suspicious greenish tint. "Looks kinda
fake, you know?"
"Yes, it is," said Jackson. "There's no one on the other
side right now." He gave the kid a long stare, wondering why he
was so relaxed. He opened his notebook, and said "Miss Glassman
claims that you broke into her apartment at around midnight. She
woke up to find you standing over her bed. She started to scream,
but you gagged her and then forced her to have sex."
"I didn't break in, I used a key. The rest of that is true."
Turk and Jackson exchanged a look. The kid was confessing,
so they needed to play it cool and just keep him talking.
"You had a key to her apartment?" asked Jackson.
"She keeps one hidden by the front door. I saw her use it
once, so I knew where it was."
"That's still breaking and entering, if you didn't have
permission to use the key," pointed out Turk.
The kid shrugged. "OK, whatever."
Jackson shut off the tape recorder. "Now, the next thing I'm
going to ask you is how much you had to drink before you went to
Sarah Glassman's apartment. Before you answer, I want you to
know that if you were drunk, that is a legitimate extenuating
circumstance. I don't mean that it makes you innocent, I mean that
a judge will take it into account when he sentences you."
"But I am innocent."
Turk said "Shit, Roy, I don't know why you're trying to cut
this asshole any slack." He reached past Jackson and restarted
the tape recorder.
Jackson shrugged, and said "How much did you have to drink
tonight, Andrew?"
"Absolutely nothing" the kid said. "I wanted to be
clearheaded so I wouldn't make any mistakes."
Jackson snapped his notebook shut. "All right, then. Why don't
you just tell us what happened. Give us your side of the story."
This was a subtle reminder that they already had Sarah Glassman's
side of the story.
The kid shifted in his chair, took a deep breath, and said
"Sure. But I don't know if you guys are going to buy it."
Turk laughed, a short sharp sound. "I was thinking the same
thing."
"That's not really the best way to start out your story,"
pointed out Jackson.
The kid smiled briefly. "Yeah, I see what you mean. It's
just that...OK, here's the deal: Sarah wanted me to rape her."
There was a moment of silence.
"Go on," said Jackson.
The kid looked back and forth between Jackson and Turk.
"Sarah wanted me to rape her, so I did. That's it."
Turk said "Then why the fuck is she down the hall crying?
Why the fuck did she call the police?"
Jackson put his hand on Turk's arm like a man restraining an
overexcited dog, and said "Why do you think she wanted you to rape
her?"
"She thought it would be exciting. She's a weird chick, that
way. She's like, I don't know, addicted to danger or something.
She says that adrenaline is an aphrodisiac."
"Adrenaline is an aphrodisiac," repeated Turk. "You're so
full of shit, you tilt your head it'll start coming out your
ears."
"Lemme get this straight," said Jackson. "You're saying you
had this all arranged ahead of time, that she knew you were coming
over to play a rape game with her tonight?"
The kid licked his lips, looking a little nervous for the
first time. "No, not exactly."
Turk banged his fist on the table and said "So then you raped
her, asshole."
The kid shook his head, looking scared now. "No, I told you,
she wanted me to do it. I was supposed to sneak into her
apartment some night, wake her up, and rape her. Or pretend to
rape her, I mean. But I wasn't supposed to tell her ahead of
time when it would be."
Jackson shook his head and said "Son, that's the flimsiest
story I've ever heard. Maybe you do need a lawyer."
"Look, it'll be a lot more clear what happened if I start at
the beginning and tell you how it is between me and Sarah, OK?"
"You do that," said Turk. "This should be real interesting."
The kid took a deep breath, looked around like he was trying
to soak up the ambiance, and began.
"I met Sarah at a frat party a couple months ago. Well,
actually I knew who she was before that, but I'd never really
talked to her. Anyway, that night we danced a lot, got wasted, and
slept together. The next morning I was worried that she might be
pissed off, because she was so drunk when we had sex. I called her,
and we talked about it, and it turned out it was cool, she wasn't
pissed. She said the fact that I was concerned made me better
that ninety-nine percent of the guys she knew. So after that we
were friends.
"We didn't sleep together again for a while, but we used to
hang out and talk a lot. We always ended up talking about sex.
One night we were on the subject of fantasies, and Sarah told me
she fantasized about bondage..."
He remembered how horny it made him when Sarah told him she
wanted to be tied up. Of course, Sarah always made him horny.
They were in the Orange Tree, a poorly-named establishment if
there ever was one, sitting in the dim back room at a scarred old
oak table with their regular crowd. As usual, he and Sarah were
sitting next to each other and carrying on their own conversation,
kept private by the loud background noise.
"Tied up?" he said. "Why?" He knew why of course, he could
see the attraction, but he always played the role of the naif with
Sarah.
"Danger," she said. "Adrenaline, fear...all that good
stuff." She gave him a sidelong look. "You know what I'm talking
about?"
He held the look, gazing into her brown eyes. "Yeah, I know
what you mean."
"Do you really?" she asked.
He was about to ask her if she wanted to show him exactly
what she meant, but she turned away to look at the people trying
to get her attention. Her turn in the running game of quarters.
Sarah adjusted the position of the full glass of beer and
carefully gripped the quarter in her fingers. She was dressed all
in black, as usual - a thin girl with long dark hair, pale skin,
and an interesting face. Not beautiful, or even pretty, but sexy.
She measured the distance to the glass carefully, and made a
few practice motions. He smiled - Sarah was the worst quarters
player around; half the time she didn't even get it airborne. But
she always gave it her full concentration, staring fiercely at the
glass with the tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her
mouth.
This time the quarter rose in a perfect arc and swished right
into the center of the glass, to a roar of surprise.
She laughed and slid the glass in front of him. "There you
go, Andy. Drink up."
"Why me?" he asked, pretending to be hurt. He drained the
glass and passed it over to be refilled. He wanted to make a shot
of his own and give the beer to Sarah, but he bounced it too hard
and sent it over the glass.
"Thanks a lot," he said, elbowing her in the ribs. "Now how
am I supposed to study Bio tonight?"
She laughed and put her hand on his thigh under the table.
"You can think of something better than that to do tonight, can't
you?"
He felt his cock getting hard, just a few inches away from
her hand. "Maybe I could tie you up," he said.
"Oh, so you want to tie me up," she said, raising her
eyebrows. "What makes you think I'd let you do that?"
He shrugged, feeling the numb buzzing in his head from the
beer. "The way you talked about it a second ago I thought you
were serious. I guess it was just talk."
She laughed, appreciating his verbal jab. "Oh, it wasn't
just talk. Why don't you tell me exactly what you would do to me
if I let you tie me up."
Her hand was a warm, heavy weight on his upper thigh. He
wondered if she could feel his cock growing, pushing at the tight
denim. He leaned closer to her ear and told her what he would do
if she let him tie her up, and she shook her head in
disappointment.
"That's it? That's so gentle, so boring...so nice. You
don't need to tie me up to do that."
Oh? So why hadn't they slept together again since that first
night... "So what would you want me to do, then?" he asked,
feeling a little exasperated.
"You're missing the point. I want to feel like I'm not in
control, that I'm just along for the ride. If you're just doing
what I want you to do, then what's the point of it all?"
"OK, if that's the way you feel, I know what I would do," he
said.
She smiled. "What?"
"What's the point if I tell you ahead of time? You won't get
the full experience if you know what's coming. If you want to
find out, you'll just have to trust me."
She looked a little surprised, and she licked her lips
thoughtfully. "Good point, I must say."
She slid her hand over the bulge in his jeans and squeezed
his erection, making him flinch. "So what are we waiting for?"
"Just a second," said Jackson. "Are you describing something
that happened earlier tonight?"
"No, this was a few weeks ago. You said you wanted to hear
everything, and this is relevant."
"All right, that's fine. Please continue." When a suspect
is in a talking mood, the best thing to do is let him talk.
The kid looked up at the clock on the wall. Quarter to
three. "We left the Orange Tree and went back to her apartment..."
It took him forever to get her tied up. He had never done it
before, of course, and he was pretty buzzed, not to mention
nervous.
He tied her hands behind her back with a scarf, but she somehow
managed to wriggle them free, and then she started tickling him and
squirming away when he tried to hold her hands in place. He finally
rolled her over on her stomach, sat on her, and tied her hands again,
more firmly this time, and then he paused to think it over. Sarah just
sat there on the bed in her black silk shirt and black velvet pants,
looking at him with amusement.
"Some bank robber you'd make," she said.
"You got a pretty big mouth for someone who's tied up."
"You call this tied up? I could just walk right out of
here."
He grinned, and got up and shut the door. "Now you can't."
With her arms pulled behind her back he could see her small
bra-less breasts outlined through the shirt, little bumps where her
nipples were poking at the smooth fabric. He had tried peeking
down her shirt all night, but never quite managed to get the right
angle.
Something clicked inside his head. He was in charge now, so
what was he waiting for? He went over and stood in front of her
and she looked up at him expectantly. Then he put one finger down
the front of the blouse and pulled it away from her chest until he
could see her small breasts with their firm pink nipples.
She laughed, and said tauntingly "What an imagination. He
has me at his mercy, and all he wants to do is peek down my
blouse."
He looked at her, not smiling, staring her down until she
looked away.
"Stand up," he said, taking her arm and pulling her upward.
He unbuttoned her pants and pushed them down, letting them fall
to the floor. Then he reached under the hem of the blouse, found
the waistband of her panties, and slid them down off her narrow
hips. She stepped out of them automatically and he reached down
and picked them up.
"Hey, now he's cooking," she said. "No more messing around, no
siree." He noticed she sounded a little less sure of herself, a
little breathless maybe.
Behind his back, he rolled her panties into a ball. Then he
put his face close to hers as if to kiss her and said "Close your
eyes and open your mouth. Wider."
He quickly stuffed her panties into her mouth and held them
there.
"Mmmph!" Her eyes flew open and she lost her balance and sat
back down on the bed.
He grabbed another one of her scarves and wrapped it through
her mouth and tied it tight behind her head.
"There!" he said. "Now we're getting somewhere. No more
snide comments to distract me from my work."
She said something completely unintelligible, but from the
tone and cadence he was pretty sure it was "Asshole."
"You know how to do 'Shave and a haircut, two bits?'" he
asked.
She nodded and grunted it out, seeing where he was going.
"Good. That's your ticket out. If you do that I'll stop
what I'm doing, untie you, and tell everyone what a coward you
are."
She grunted something else that he probably wouldn't want
translated, and then, with no warning, she bolted towards the
door. Turning her back to the doorknob, she fumbled at it with
her tied hands. He caught her just as she got it open and dragged
her back to the bed. She continued to struggle, not violently,
but enough to keep him from doing anything to her.
He grabbed some rope and managed to tie her ankles to the
scarf holding her hands together, and at that point she really became
helpless. He suddenly noticed her ripe scent in the air, and he
laughed out loud as he realized how turned on she was by what
he was doing.
The rest of the night was a blur. He remembered playing with
her nipples for what seemed like hours, licking them and biting
them, until she had tears in her eyes and was literally trying to
hump his leg. He remembered putting her across his lap and
spanking her until her round little ass turned red, and then
finally putting his hand between her legs and rubbing her sopping
pussy until she had two shuddering climaxes.
And he remembered putting her on her knees with her head
pushed into the mattress and fucking her doggy-style, slamming into
her as hard as he could, and then pulling out just before he came
and spurting his hot seed all over her back, just for fun.
When he untied her she threw her arms around his neck, kissed
him, and said "Andrew! I never knew you had it in you. We're
going to have a lot of fun."
Jackson and Turk exchanged a look. The kid seemed like he
was telling the truth, and they both knew that with a past
relationship that included bondage games it would be hard to make
a rape charge stick. As it stood, it was her word against his
anyway.
"So you and Sarah engaged in bondage games regularly?" asked
Jackson.
"Once in a while. But like I said, what she was really into
was danger. Pushing the edge, anything to get an adrenaline rush.
Let me give you an example..."
They went into the library on a Tuesday night at around ten.
He was wearing his roommate's Baltimore Orioles cap, and Sarah
had her long hair tucked up under a black cap that said 'Bad Hair Day.'
Her idea of a disguise.
"I always wanted to make it in the stacks," she had said over
dinner. "And I think you're just the guy to pull it off."
"Any guy would love to make it in the stacks," he said,
liking the idea. "Especially with a wanton slut like you."
"Wanton? Who are you calling wanton...you're going to pay
for that, Mister."
They went past the circulation desk, past the rows of carrels
filled with bored-looking students surrounded by piles of paper
and books, up the stairs to the second floor stacks.
Holding hands, they walked down the long carpeted hall that
ran along the front of the room, looking down the aisles of
multicolored books, seeing how many people were around. Not
many, but the place wasn't exactly deserted, either.
Sarah picked out a quiet corner and pulled him into a long
kiss.
"I'll show you what I mean by wanton," he said. He lifted up
her short skirt, revealing her neatly trimmed bush. "No panties -
now that's wanton."
"You trying to make me feel like a whore?" From the tone of
her voice, she didn't mind too much.
He dropped to his knees and said "Keep a lookout." Then he
started licking her pussy. She gasped and ground her crotch
against his face, already excited and juicy before he even
started. The problem with the stacks was that they were too damn
quiet. He felt like every slurp, every moan, could be heard five
aisles over. Once she tapped his shoulder urgently and dropped
her skirt down over his head, and he pulled his face out and pretended
to be looking for a book as an Asian woman walked towards them,
gave them a curious look, and then walked away.
"Come on," she hissed. "Time to fuck."
She lifted her hips up onto the edge of the shelf behind her
as he stood up and unzipped his jeans. He looked around
nervously, wondering if they were nuts or what. Anyone could come
by at any time and see them.
"Maybe we should come back later when the place is empty," he
whispered.
"You're missing the point again, Andy - we want people to be
around. Now fuck me, dammit."
"You're crazy, you know that?" He pushed his cock between
her legs and sunk into her, and she wrapped her long legs around
his waist and pulled him up against her. It was strange, standing
there fully clothed, breathing that familiar dusty library smell,
and having sex. Strange and fun.
"We have to be quiet," he whispered. "Otherwise we won't
hear if someone is coming."
"You worry too much." She kissed him and then nibbled on his
ear.
He thrust into her urgently, enjoying himself but at the same
time wanting to finish quickly and get out of there.
"Tell me when you're close," she said. "I need a little
warning."
He felt the familiar burning in his cock already, the semen
starting to creep out of his balls.
"I'm close now," he gasped. "Is anyone coming?"
"Not yet, but they will soon, so you better hurry." She gave
him a kiss and a giddy smile that would have made him nervous if
he wasn't so distracted.
"OH GOD!!," she shouted. "Yeah! Fuck me harder!" Her voice
cut through the silence of the stacks like a knife blade.
He almost had a heart attack. He would have jumped back and
zipped up, but she had her legs wrapped around him tight. As it
was he stopped and gasped at her. "Sarah..."
"Finish it," she hissed.
He slammed into her as hard as he could, thinking he could
shut her up by fucking her like an animal.
"OH YES! Dave, you are such a stud! Fuck Meeeee...."
He looked down the aisle and saw a crowd of about ten people
watching them with expressions ranging from shock to amusement.
Sarah pulled his head around with her hand. "Don't look at them,
finish it."
It seemed to take forever, but the people didn't come any
closer, they just stood there at the end of the aisle and watched.
He heard a woman say "You two are disgusting!" A male voice said
"Yeah, you guys go!"
He closed his eyes and felt his climax come over him like a
freight train.
"Yeah!" he shouted. "God Kathy, you are such a fucking
whore!"
She laughed, and said "You know it, Dave! Fuck me harder!"
He spurted up into her, shouting "Here you go, you
slut! Here's what you want! Take it! Take it!"
He pulled out and hastily zipped up his pants, keeping his
back turned to the onlookers.
"The campus police are coming!" shouted a female voice.
"Don't let those perverts leave this floor."
He felt a surge of panic. "Now what?" he hissed.
She grabbed his hand. "This way." At the far end of the
aisle was a fire door. She pushed the bar and the alarm went off,
deafeningly loud in the enclosed cement stairwell. They ran down
the stairs holding their hands over their ears, and then burst out
the side exit into the night. A few people gave them curious
glances as they ran by, but soon they were off the campus and onto
the dimly lit streets, where they finally collapsed against each
other, laughing and gasping for air.
The kid smiled ruefully at Jackson, and said "That's the sort
of thing she liked to do. Like I said, she's crazy."
"But you continued to have a sexual relationship with her,
even after the incident at the library?"
"Oh yeah, I have to admit, I was enjoying myself. At least
at first. I mean, we'd do some crazy, dangerous stunt, and I'd
swear I was sick of the whole thing, but then we'd have great sex
afterwards, I mean, really amazing sex..."
"Uh huh. You said 'at first'. Are you saying you were
trying to end the relationship?"
"Well, things started to get out of hand. Some of the stuff
we did..." He shook his head. "Like the time in her car..."
She picked him up in front of his place one night around
eleven. She had said she wanted to have sex in the car, park
somewhere private and do it in the front seat. He thought that
sounded innocuous enough. More privacy than the crowded movie
theater they had used last week, anyway.
She drove off the Landover campus and through the small college
town of Chelmsford.
"Where we going?" he asked. "Let me guess, the supermarket
parking lot? Right in front of the store?"
She smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. "Someplace dark
and quiet, don't worry."
As they left the town they passed a police car set up to
catch speeders. "There's the fuzz," said Sarah. A little while
later he realized they had circled back and were heading past the
cop again. Suddenly Sarah floored it, and they roared past the
cop at well over the speed limit.
"What the hell are you doing?" He felt the usual sinking
feeling in his stomach. He turned around, and sure enough, the
cop was following them, lights flashing. The siren burped a short
refrain. When they didn't slow down, it went on and stayed on.
"Hang on!" Sarah was leaning forward over the wheel, her
eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. They took a curve at high
speed and he felt the car start to skid, almost losing traction.
"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled. "You've got to
stop!"
"Says who?"
"You can't outrun the police!" He looked back and saw the
cop was right behind them now.
"Don't worry, I've got a plan."
Suddenly she floored the accelerator, pulling away from the
cop, then she braked and turned onto a side street. It turned out
to be one of those maze-like housing developments where you can
get lost even if you live there, and Sarah turned off the
headlights and made a series of quick turns, seemingly at random.
He looked behind them again, not hearing the siren. "He's
gone!"
"Good." She came to the edge of the development and turned
onto a bumpy dirt road that led into a forest preserve. She
followed it a little ways and parked in a small parking area, out
of sight of the road.
She turned off the ignition and smiled at him. "The cop will
think we doubled back out of the development onto the highway."
In the quiet, dark car he could feel his heart pounding in his
chest. "You're nuts, Sarah, but I have to admit, you did it...shit!"
"What is it?"
"The license plates! The cop must have gotten your license
plate number."
"I caked them over with mud. But thanks for reminding me -
we should clean them off now. Do you mind?"
He got out of the car and kicked the dried mud off the plates.
What else was there to say? Sarah thought of everything.
When he got back in the car she was all over him. She
squirmed into his lap and kissed him, and her greedy tongue snaked
into his mouth.
"I'm sorry Andy," she said after a while, her breathing
heavy. "I shouldn't do these crazy things to you. I'm a bad
girl."
"A very bad girl," he agreed.
"How can I make it up to you?"
"Suck my cock. And swallow every drop." Before the words
were out of his mouth she was unzipping his pants.
When her hot, slippery mouth closed over his organ he closed
his eyes and let out a moan. "Sarah..."
"I don't get it," said Turk. "She scares the hell out of
you, almost gets you arrested, and for what? Just a thrill?"
The kid nodded slowly. How could he explain the adrenaline
rush, the feeling of being completely alive...
"Yeah, just a thrill," he said.
"And tonight?" said Jackson. That was more of the same
thing?"
"Right."
Turk put his hands on the table and leaned forward until he
was in the kid's face. "I'm gonna ask you this one more time. If
it was a consensual rape game, then why did she have you
arrested?"
"I don't know. Maybe she had second thoughts. I was pretty
rough with her, maybe it was more than she could handle." He
glanced at the clock - three am. "I'm sure she'll change her mind
once she thinks it over."
"I don't think so, you little asshole, I think -"
"Turk!" Jackson took Turk's arm and pulled him towards the
door. "Sit tight," he said to the kid, and he and Turk went into
the hall, shutting the door behind them.
"What the hell, Roy?" Turk was about to say more, but he
saw his partner's face and decided against it. Roy Jackson rarely
lost his temper, and it wasn't a pretty sight when he did.
"I want to talk to the girl again," said Jackson.
A female detective came up to them before they had a chance.
"Hey Jackson, I was looking for you. Sarah Glassman changed her
story. Now she says it was a big misunderstanding."
"Goddamn it," said Jackson. "I knew it."
"Misunderstanding?" said Turk.
The woman nodded. "She says it was consensual - they had it
arranged ahead of time. But she panicked - lost her head."
"You think we can charge her with something?" asked Jackson.
"Filing a false report?"
The woman looked doubtful. "You could, but I doubt it would
stick. I mean, it's not one of those cases where she made up a
story to get back at her boyfriend for dumping her - it was a sex
game that got out of hand. That's a touchy area you'd be getting
into - might just end up being bad press for the department."
Jackson nodded curtly. "OK. Let them both go."
Turk looked surprised. "You sure about this, Roy? Maybe we
ought to hold them overnight, find out exactly what happened. I
don't like that kid's attitude."
"No. We'll see one or both of them back here soon - you
can bet on it. They're playing with fire, and eventually they'll
get burned."
A uniformed cop finally opened the door and told him he was
free to go. He took a deep breath and let it out, feeling the
relief seep into his limbs.
"Let's go," said the cop. "I'm supposed to give you a ride
home."
"No thanks. I don't need a ride."
The cop shrugged. "Suit yourself."
He went out into the parking lot, walking slowly on rubbery
legs. She was waiting for him in her car, and she rolled down the
window as he approached. His face was a sickly orange under the
sodium lights.
"How was it?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.
"How do you think it was, you crazy bitch? Scary as hell."
He grinned at her. "Now let's get out of here."
The End, "Adrenaline Games"
© 1997 by DG. All rights reserved.
Notes:
1) Please let me know what you thought of this story - my email address
is dionysian1@hotmail.com
2) All my stories are available from my web page:
http://baird.pair.com/dg.htm