Larry and the Cop Written By Dale "LuckyDog" Stephens and Inspired By Mathieu "Matt" DePoister
Contents:
Chapter 1: Larry gets caught
Chapter 2: Larry finds a home
Chapter 3: Larry works it out
Chapter 4: The cop gets caught
Chapter 5: The truth comes out
Chapter 6: John tells Larry the bad news
Chapter 7: The Review Board's Determination
Chapter 8: Back in uniform and Larry's surprise
Chapter 9: John gets clumsy
Chapter 10: The Aftermath
Prologue
Chapter 1--Larry gets caught
He was in an alley crouching next to a dumpster, he had sandy brown hair and a skinny build, and I knew something was up. I slowly and silently approached him, just out of his line of vision, sticking in the shadows, all my years of training and experience coming in to play. I didn't know if this kid might be dangerous or not, so I was being cautious.
I got close enough to him to see he was just done shooting up. My God, he was only around 21 or 22, I reckoned. He saw me and threw down his rig, but he was so stoned he couldn't even run.
I drew my Sig and aimed straight at his heart and told him "settle down, and I won't hurt you."
He looked like he was about to pass out.
I walked cautiously up to him and said "stand up and turn around slowly and keep your hands where I can see 'em." He was eager to comply, and I patted him down. I couldn't help notice the sizable bulge in his crotch, and when I passed my hand over his ass he shuddered and let out a slight moan. I was sure he wasn't dangerous, by now; he was just a young scared kid trying to get a fix.
I cuffed him and sat him down on a pile of old carpet that smelled of piss and mold. I said "What's your name kid?" he told me "Larry, Larry James, sir." He said," man, please don't arrest me, I just got thrown out of my friend's house cuz he caught me using." I immediately started feeling sorry for the kid. I had seen so many like him in my years on the force. I told him, "I have to arrest you, and I have no choice son." He started crying and it began to tear my heart out. Even old cops still have a heart.
I lifted him off the pile of rotting carpet and walked him over to my plain car and told him to watch his head as I sat him in the back seat.
I asked if he had any ID. He said, "I'm really sorry sir, can't you just let me go?" I asked him again if he had ID, and since I frisked him pretty thoroughly, I knew he didn't. He sighed and said, "no sir, I don't have anything, and I used my last ten bucks to score that bag." At least he sounded truthful and was being respectful. I think the shock of me finding him probably killed his buzz pretty quickly, as he was getting more lucid now.
I said, "How old are you kid?" and he said, "I'm 24, my birthday is in March." I decided to run his name and DOB on the MDT (mobile-display-terminal), just to be on the safe side. It came back no hits.
I asked him "when was the last time you were arrested?" He said, "Never sir, this is my first time." He was lying.
Now any cop will say, on the record, that street justice just doesn't exist, but all of us working the streets know that that just isn't true. I made a decision right then and there that this kid was suffering enough and although he needed help, I knew jail wasn't going to help him one bit.
I asked him "is there any place I can take you where you'll be safe?" ignoring the fact that I was putting my ass and my badge on the line.
He said, "no sir, I don't have any family, and my friends are all friends of my roommate. They'll probably side with him, if ya know what I mean." I did know what he meant.
I had room at my place in the gay ghetto, but I wasn't sure it would be a smart idea to take him back there, and I didn't want to come home to an empty house because he ripped me off to buy his next hit.
I knew if I took him to a motel where they didn't ask questions, he would be in the same element and around the same kind of people he really didn't need to be around, and for some reason I felt I could trust him. Call it a cop's gut instinct, but I figured he was harmless enough.
Chapter 2--Larry finds a home
I took him back to my place, against my better judgment. I told him that my neighbor was really watchful (actually she was a nosey old bitty) and that he better stay put until I got off duty. I showed him where everything was and said, "eat what you want, if you're hungry, and don't even think about trying to score while I'm gone, remember, the old lady will tell me all that's going on here." He smiled and laughed and said, "Why are you being so nice to me?" I saw his smile and it just melted my heart.
I told him, "Larry, I may be the only friend you have in the world right now and I plan on getting you some help." He smiled again and started to get a little teary and said "thank you so much sir, I don't know how I can ever repay you." I said, "I'm sure I'll think of a way" and gave him my trademark evil grin.
I handed him a towel and said "here, take a shower and get yourself cleaned up and try to eat something, I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on you, my shift is supposed to end at 2am and I'll be home about an hour later, if you're still up we'll talk about how you are going to repay me." He lit up like a Christmas tree and said slyly "I bet you will." I just smiled and walked out the door.
All night long I kept thinking of him back at my house and what I was going to do with him when I got home. Part of me wanted so badly just to take him to a shelter in the morning and be done with it. But another part of me wanted him all for myself. He was one helluva good-looking kid, and I'd be a liar to say I didn't have thoughts of what he'd be like in bed.
I got home around 3:30 and he was still awake, sitting on my bed wrapped in just one of my old towels.
He must have noticed my eyebrows rise when I looked at him because he got a big grin across his face and said, "so you like what you see?" and I told him, "yeah, I like what I see, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see it all."
He then stood up and turned around and dropped the towel to the floor and I saw the nicest ass I had ever seen in my life, but I realized that I shouldn't be taking advantage of him, especially under the circumstances, so I told him "relax, this isn't the right time for this, and although I am really turned on, it just wouldn't be right."
He said, "wow, I didn't think you'd turn me down." and I said "I'm not turning you down, I just don't think it's the right time." He looked heartbroken and was staring down at the floor and said, "I really want you, don't you want me?" and I told him "boy, you are everything I want, but not now." He looked directly into my eyes and said "OK sir, whatever you say." I said, "that's better, now let's get some sleep."
My apartment is a single, and I have a queen sized bed, so I have plenty of room for another body, so I told him it would be okay to sleep in the bed with me if he wanted to. He smiled a big grin and said "OK daddy. If you want, you can wake me up." I said, "I just might do that, but all I can think of right now is getting some sleep."
He slept very peacefully, tight up against me all night long, barely moving at all. I couldn't sleep well though, my dick was hard, and all I kept thinking about was how badly I wanted him and how stupid I had already been for even bringing him home. It had been almost two years since I was in a relationship, and having his warm tight body pressed up against me was almost more than I could bear.
I finally fell asleep at some point, and didn't wake up until I felt him stir. It was almost noon.
He rolled over, wiped his eyes and yawned and looked at me with a big grin on his face and said, "Did you sleep alright? I couldn't help notice your stiffie pressed up against my back all night and it felt sooooo good." I laughed and said, "yeah, you're right, it was hard all night, but I did get SOME sleep."
"Daddy, it felt so good to have ya hold me. I felt so safe in your strong arms, thank you so much. You are my lifesaver" and I said, "no thanks necessary, just doing my job, sorta." We both had a good laugh at that one.
Larry then fixed us both breakfast and I was surprised at what a good cook he was, and thought to myself, this kid aint so bad after all, I guess my instincts were right.
I couldn't keep my eyes off of his naked body though as he was stirring up eggs and oatmeal in the kitchen and I knew he was watching me too.
We sat on the bed and ate our meal, a damn good one too. I usually don't even eat breakfast, but how could I refuse?
We both cleaned up the kitchen and when we were through Larry looked at me and said "Daddy, I'm always horniest in the morning. Is it time yet?" I looked at him sternly and said, "damn it Larry, I'll tell you when its time. I want this just as much as you do, maybe even more, but I don't want to rush into anything, let's just enjoy being with each other and see how that works out. You have a lot to work out in your life, and I do want to help you, but just having sex won't help, not right now."
"But daddy, it won't hurt just this once." I said, "Larry, I have spoken, and if you want me to help you then you better heed what I say."
"OK daddy, you know what's best." I said, "Now, that's better, and as long as you keep thinking that way, we will have no problems. You understand?" he nodded his head, "but, the first thing we need to do is to get you off the junk and back on your feet." He frowned a little and said, "you're right daddy, please don't be mad at me." "Larry, I'm not mad at you, I only want what's best for you." He said "OK dad."
Chapter 3--Larry works it out
Fortunately, I had the next two days off and I felt that that would at least give me enough time to get to know Larry better and to evaluate whether or not he was worth putting any effort into, or whether I should take him to the shelter.
Larry only had with him the tattered jeans and a t-shirt that he was wearing last night when he was supposed to be getting arrested and carted off to jail. So I told him I'd go with him to his roommate's house and I would go in and get his things, so there wouldn't be any confrontation.
His ex-roommate is a white (pale white, almost pasty) male around the same age as Larry, with a fat round face that was red and acne scarred. He looked like he couldn't get laid in a two-dollar whorehouse with a fistful of Benjamin's. He had pale blue eyes that were set way too close together and red hair that reminded me of Howdy Doody on a bad day. He had apparently enjoyed a few too many Twinkies from the size of his waistline.
His name is Tim Christian. "How appropriate," I thought.
I could tell he was a judgmental little ass wipe the moment I laid eyes on him and when he opened his mouth he removed all doubt. He was also straight and had a mouth that never stopped talking about Jesus, sin and the second coming.
It took all my self-control to not just punch his teeth down his throat; at least it would shut him up. But I restrained the urge to permanently rearrange his face and give him a full set of dentures, and I packed all of Larry's shit into garbage bags and headed out to the car with the bundles slung over my back.
As I was leaving, Mr. Christian said to me, "I hope you know what you're doing, that dude is bad news." I looked at him straight in the eyes and said "Its none of your fucking business and keep your opinions and your attitude to yourself." "And if anyone asks, you don't know where Larry is, you got that?" He looked at me like a deer in the headlights and said "OK."
At that, we parted ways and I smiled to myself when I noticed his car had expired tags. I made a mental note to let Traffic know about it when I got back to my office. Oh, and he also had a broken taillight, now.
I got back in the car and looked at Larry, sitting there with that sheepish grin that I was becoming very fond of, and told him, "I don't even know how you could spend one minute in that fucking lame ass guy's house. He would make me use my gun in a way that was not lawful." Larry laughed and said, "Yeah, he's a piece of work, huh?" We both had a good chuckle over sister, I mean, Mr. Christian and I started the car and we drove back to my place.
When we got back to my place I cleaned out some drawers for Larry to put his shit in and told him he could stay with me for as long as he needed and as long as he kept his nose clean. Larry smiled at me and said, "you are so good to me daddy." And I replied, "just don't make me regret this decision Larry, I am trusting you to turn your life around from this very moment forward. And if you don't, then don't expect me to be there to catch you if you fall again."
He put his head on my chest and I hugged him tightly and he started to cry. I lifted his head up and I wiped away his tears and said, "Larry, I want to see only tears of happiness from now on." And he looked into my eyes and said, "OK dad, I'll be good. I promise." And I said, "I know you will, you have no choice." And I smiled and hugged him tightly against me.
It felt so good to hug him and hold him in my arms, I had waited so long for something to feel good in my life again as far as a relationship was concerned, and although I knew there were going to be rough seas ahead, I was glad for the chance; for us to both share a little happiness.
We made love for the first time that night, his second night in my home, and I was amazed at how good it was.
He liked everything I was into. He loved being spanked, having his hands cuffed, and getting fucked while he was on his back. He knew just how to please me too. We had no problem enjoying each other's bodies in every way we could think of. After cumming, his dick would get hard again almost immediately, and, even though some guys at my age have problems, I had no problem getting hard again right away too. His hard, cut, dick and smooth soft round ass were just what I needed, and wanted.
He was a totally submissive bottom boy and since I was a total dominant top, we fit together perfectly. All I had to do was just rub his ass softly and he'd shoot. He was also really into the fact that I was a real cop. He even had me put my uniform on so we could role-play me arresting him and then raping him. We had mad, passionate sex, for almost two entire days, only stopping to eat a snack and to go to the bathroom.
I have been a cop for almost 20 years now, and have made it to Detective I. Luckily, I worked for a department where being gay did not matter. I started out as a Cadet in the Explorer program and when I turned 21 they had an opening and I was made a full-fledged cop. It was a dream come true for me. I spent 18 years on the streets and slowly worked my way up the ranks, first as patrolman, then Corporal and Field Instructor, then Sergeant, up until 2 years ago when I passed the Detective Exam.
I had always wanted to work undercover too, and so, this was another dream come true for me, as I was assigned to the Career Criminal Apprehension Team (C-Cat) and spent most of my time on the street talking to people, sitting on stake outs, and taking down some pretty mean assed mother fuckers, who really did not want, or expect to get caught again.
I have received many commendations from my superiors, and accolades from my team members and my work is the most satisfying thing I could ever do. I am a damn good cop, and I always did things by the book. Well, almost always.
But, for the life of me I couldn't understand why I was risking it all for this boy. I thought to myself, I should know better at my age, but I was trapped. No matter how hard I tried to come to my senses, it just wasn't happening.
I felt I was really falling in love with Larry, and it felt good too. I knew Larry felt something for me too, even if it was only because I was kind to him, but deep inside, I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him. And for better or worse, I had already started down a path from which I could never turn back. I just hoped it was the right path.
Time will tell, I thought.
Time did tell. After 2 months of drug rehab and 8 months of psychological therapy, Larry had turned his life completely around. I could not have been more proud of him.
He was enrolled again at the local Community College and was working on finishing his degree in Engineering. He has many talents too, he's artistic, can write and is very intelligent, as well; I was continually impressed with all the things he was capable of. He was not only sexy and gorgeous, but he had brains too!
Chapter 4--The cop gets caught
Larry's only family was his psycho-bitch drug addled mom. She was a real shit, and didn't give a damn about Larry from the moment he was born. He showed me a picture of her and she looked like a pit bull with psoriasis and bad dental work.
Some women are the most wonderful and protective mothers, as they should be, and others should just not become mothers, and Larry's mom was in the latter category.
She got knocked up at only fifteen and married Larry's dad, who was twenty-four at the time. Larry's mom, Sara, may not have known what she was doing, but his dad sure did.
After Larry was born, very soon after, (Larry wasn't sure exactly when) Sara and Larry's dad, Dan got divorced. Larry never saw his dad again after that, and according to him, he never cared to either.
So with no other family to protect him and a mother that needed to be raised herself, Larry had to grow up fast, assuming the roles of both mom and dad, in this dysfunctional "family."
His mom was so strung out most of the time that Larry went without food for days at a time, and when he did get a good meal it was usually because a friend's family invited him over for dinner. Larry was, apparently, always pretty endearing to others and so it was easy for him to wheedle an invite to a friends house for a meal once in a while.
And yet, Larry managed to survive just fine until at the age of 18 when he came "out" to his mom.
He had met his first lover, and as usual, Larry was too honest, and told his mom he was gay and that he had a lover. She blew it, big time. She told him that he HAD to get out of her house and that he was never welcome there again. There went his plans for college, right out the window, with his clothes.
When Larry told me this story, it took everything I had in me to first, not break down in tears, and second, not want to hurt that bitch.
Larry ended up on the streets and hustled and got into trouble, like most teens that are on the streets. Out in the cold hard world was no place to be for a young, intelligent and passionate boy like Larry, or any other kid, for that matter. But he survived and managed to stay out of prison, and since he was not an adult, his records were expunged.
Larry began to consider his options for the future and was not happy with what he saw. So he found some part time jobs, mostly minimum wage jobs, and tried to save some money.
It took him four years to finally save enough money to enroll in the local community college and he was on his way to getting his degree, working during the nights and attending classes when he could afford the tuition.
But the old demons that haunted him would not leave him alone. And he got into drugs again after only a short time, and that slowed his progress at getting his degree. It's hard to pay for drugs and tuition and books, all at the same time, so it was taking longer than the average student for him to earn what would normally be a two-year degree.
Sara, had not forgotten about Larry though, and much to his, and my chagrin, had been keeping tabs on him through her network of drug dealers and street scum that she called friends. Its too bad too, if she had just left him alone, we would have been fine. But she was really an evil bitch, and only wanted to make sure Larry never had the things she couldn't or didn't have.
I couldn't understand how a mother could be such a cunt, like she was, but, there it was, she was like a jealous lover and couldn't stand to see Larry have any happiness.
I soon found out that the dealer that Larry scored his last bag from was also a friend of Sara's, and told Sara about the night I found Larry. He had apparently seen the whole thing, because he told her in great detail, accurately, what had transpired the night that Larry and I first met.
He even followed me home that night, and I am usually pretty perceptive when it comes to being tailed, since I have a lot of enemies out there, but my mind was somewhere else that night, and I unfortunately, never noticed. That was a big mistake on my part; I was soon to find out just how big a mistake it was.
The dealer told Sara about us, and she wanted to know every detail, saving it up in her head for use at a later date. And use it she did.
It was almost a year later when I got a call from my supervisor saying he wanted to see me in his office immediately.
Chapter 5--The truth comes out
"Detective Sims, what the fuck were you thinking?" screamed Captain Mathieu, as I closed the door to his office. I knew by his tone that I was in deep shit.
Jesus, he hardly let me get in the door before he started yelling, and ripping me a new asshole. He threw a file at me and told me I'd better sit down.
I looked down at the file, and was reading the cover, which had printed on it in bold red letters "I. A. Departmental Investigation File." I sat there thinking, man, this it, they finally now know and my heart sunk into the pit of my stomach.
"Detective Sims, the info in that folder distresses me deeply." He was still addressing me unusually formally. "I know you are one of the straightest and best cops I have, and I just don't understand how you could let this happen," said the captain. "Cap, I am not really sure what you're talking about, can I look inside the folder?" I lied, hoping to dispel some of his anger. He nodded yes and sat back in his chair waiting and watching.
I thumbed through the papers and there were names of people I had never even heard of. But the one that jumped out at me was the name Sara James-W1.
I read through all twelve sheets of paper, which summed up what the charges against me were and all the witnesses that were identified in the preliminary investigation. I was being charged with dereliction of duty and failure to maintain professional conduct. That is some pretty serious stuff.
It was all becoming rapidly clear to me and my head was swimming, and I knew I was in trouble, just how much trouble, I wasn't sure. I did know that I could lose my job and my pension, and everything I have worked so hard for.
"Sims," the captain said, still being formal, "these people aren't too reliable, but you know IA has to make an investigation. I just want to hear from you, your side of the story. I know you are a good cop, and this really seems to be a severe lack of good judgment on your part, if what these people are accusing you of is true."
I said, "Cap, yep, its pretty damn accurate, and I'm kinda ashamed to admit it, but it happened, just like they say it did." I figured at this point I might as well admit it. Cap was always good to me and I didn't want to deceive him. I suppose I could have lied, but that's just not me.
He looked down at his desk and frowned, and then he looked up at me and said, "Well, you know what I have to do, and as much as it pains me to do it, I have no choice. It's just a fucking shame you let this happen, you're such a good goddamn cop too." I replied, "Yes Cap, I know you have to do it, and I'm sorry it had to come out this way." I took out my badge and my piece and laid them on his desk. The captain said "John, you are on Administrative Paid Leave until the IA Board finishes its review."
He then said "John, you know I love ya as I do my own sons, and its gonna be rough without your help around here, and it hurts to have to do this to you, especially since we are so short handed and in the middle of so many investigations. But the IA Board will hold its Conduct Review Hearing in two weeks, on Friday at 8pm, and I'll be there to support you in any way I can, and I recommend you have an attorney present as well. Just tell me one thing, John. How did this happen?"
I told him all the gory details, omitting nothing, and was glad to get it off my chest. We talked for almost two hours, and went over all the things that the IA could do to me, and what I would have to do to fight the charges. I told the captain that I might as well not fight it; since it was true, and I told him I would just take whatever punishment they felt was necessary and appropriate.
After spilling my guts and getting his advice, Captain Mathieu and I both stood up, and he walked over to me, put his arm around my shoulders and said, "John, I know you must love this kid, and I know, in your heart you felt you were doing the right thing, and to tell ya the truth, hell, I might have done the same if I was in that same situation, it's a tough call. There was a few times, back when I walked a beat, that I did let someone go, because I knew they weren't really bad people and no one would be harmed. I am going to miss you around here, so you take care of yourself and remember, me and the team are behind you 300 percent!"
I said, "Thanks Cap, I really do appreciate that, and be sure to tell the team how sorry I am for fucking up." He smiled and shook my hand and said, "John, we all love you here and no one will judge you, except IA, so when you get cleared of this we'll all share a drink and a laugh together. And, oh, by the way, I'd like to meet the kid you put so much on the line for." I told him thanks, and said, "I would like that too, and you'll see just how smart and great a kid he really is." I then turned and walked out of his office, my heart very heavy.
Bad news, rumors, and anything involving fellow cops spreads through a police station like a California wildfire after a 6-year drought. Cops are some of the most gossipy persons on earth. I think its because we all work so closely together. We can't help but get involved in each others lives, even more so than in most other professions, and we pretty much only trust other cops.
All my team members were waiting outside Cap's office with sad looks on the their faces. Hell, they looked like kids whose first pet just died. It looks like I was going to get the chance to tell the team on my own how sorry I was. It tore me up to know I had let the team down, but they all came over and shook my hand and wished me well. We exchanged hugs and it made me feel good to know that they were all there to support me, and not angry with me, as I feared.
My partner, Jaime Solis, a short, stocky Mexican, and one of the meanest motherfuckers on the streets, said, "Juanito, is it true?" I said, "Yeah, Jaime, I don't know what you've heard, but I'll tell you all about it."
We walked over to the coffee machine, and I bought us both a cup of what they call coffee, the shit smelled like deer piss and tasted like mud, but that's what cops drink, and went into one of the interrogation "Conference" rooms. I told my partner the whole story, and I was starting to get used to telling the story at this point.
Jaime looked at me and with sad eyes and said, "Chingow! You fucked up. What are you gonna do, and how can I help?" I looked down at the floor and said, "You're right bro, I did fuck up, but its my problem, and there's not much you can do to help, except to keep backing me up, like you always have." He smiled and said, "You bendejo, at least when you do it, you go all the way, huh? You know I got your back brother." I laughed and said, "Yeah, you got that right. Why settle for just a taco when you can have the whole combo platter." We laughed and hugged and I asked Jaime to if he could drive me home now.
Chapter 6--John tells Larry the bad news
I knew Larry would not be pleased with this turn of events. I was right.
Larry was standing at the door as I walked up the steps from the sidewalk. He must have noticed I wasn't driving my plain car, since they confiscated that too.
"Daddy, what's wrong?" he asked in a small trembling voice.
I looked at his beautiful face and saw that he could sense something was terribly wrong, since he looked as if he were about to break into sobs at any moment.
"Hey boy, what makes you think something's wrong," I said, smiling and trying to hide the fact that I felt so bad.
Larry started to stammer and said, "How come you got a ride home, where's your car?" I told him I would tell him all about it after we had some dinner and a couple of drinks." He gave a me small scowl and said, "OK dad, you're the boss." "That's my good boy," I said and I patted him on the ass and told him to get dressed up, we were going out to eat tonight. "Woo Hoo! Daddy is taking me out!"
We went out to one of the best Gay and Straight lounge restaurants in town, the Paradise Café, a nice little place on Broadway in the gay business district part of town. It was in a very old building that had probably seen many different types of businesses in its lifetime. It has live entertainment (a piano) and a fantastic menu too, and was just walking distance from our home.
We ate a big meal and then went home, a little tipsy from too much wine and both of us filled to the gunnels, and I then sat him down to tell him the news.
"Larry, I have a bit of bad news that concerns your mother and I," I said. He shot me a look of disgust and said, "what about the bitch, what did she do now, as if I even give a shit about her."
I told him, "Boy, you remember the night I found you in the alley?" He nodded and said, "Yeah daddy, like it was yesterday, it was the best and worst day of my whole life up to that point and I could never forget it."
"Well Larry, we were not alone in that alley, someone was watching us, and he just happened to be a friend of your mom's." "Oh my God, it was my dealer, that fucking nigger Lance, wasn't it?"
One thing about Larry, he never minced words, what was on his mind came right out of his mouth with no pauses in between. "Yeah, you hit it right on the head, and there's more too." I said.
"Oh no daddy, what happened, how did you find out?" "I'm getting to that," I said.
I told Larry everything that happened to me that day, and how the IA was gonna have my tits in a ringer for sure. He was very angry. "How can that bitch do this to us," he screamed at me. "Why can't she just die and leave us alone, I hate her so fucking much." and he started to cry.
"Boy," I said to him sternly, "you can't do anything about it now, and we just have to let this play out and see what happens. There's no use in you getting yourself all upset and angry over this. I knew that something like this might happen the moment I brought you home." I hugged him tightly and said, "Larry, you know I love you more than anything in the world, and I wouldn't change a thing."
He smiled at me, "Thanks daddy." And I said, "We'll get through this, I made my bed and now I have to sleep in it." He laughed and said, "I made OUR bed." And I chuckled for a minute and told him, "The point is, they can't kill me, and I'm sure they won't fire me, so we'll just wait and see what happens, OK?"
He sighed loudly and said, "OK daddy, but I am worried about you." I said, "I appreciate that kid, but I don't want you to worry about me, you have enough to worry about." He sighed again, "OK daddy." "Now lets get to bed." I ordered.
I just stood there as he undressed, watching him. His body is so supple and smooth, he's not very hairy, and what hair he does have looks like its been trimmed neatly, and that's natural too. He had a very nice tan, and I loved the way his pubic hair just showed a little bit over the top of his briefs. It really turned me on. So did watching him get undressed.
I'm not sure if it was the wine, or the relief of finally getting everything at work out in the open, but I was very horny and needed to make love to him. Watching him undress only made it worse, and I was getting a hard-on that could scratch glass.
He noticed me looking at him, and also noticed how hard I was and he got a big grin on his face and slowed down stripping off his clothes, he knew exactly how to get me excited, and never missed an opportunity, and tonight was no different.
We did all the things we usually do, except I was probably a little rougher with him than usual. But he didn't mind that, he liked it rough.
We finally were both completely spent, and laid there on the bed, he with his head on my chest, stroking my chest hair and me with my hand rubbing his soft round ass. He looked into my eyes and said, "Daddy are you going to be OK?" I looked down into his beautiful blue eyes and said, "yes boy, everything's gonna be just fine." But I wasn't sure if I was telling him the truth or not. He said, "OK dad, just checking." We then both slept hard for the rest of the night. I must have worked him pretty hard because he never even moved the entire night.
Chapter 7--The Review Board's Determination
"This board of review is being conducted according to the rules and regulations of Article 12 of the Department's Policy and Procedure's Manual and the applicable city, county, and Federal statutes governing police misconduct, and is being transcribed for permanent records, the following persons in attendance at this hearing are as follows, Members of the Review Board present are myself, Lieutenant Ken Marshall, Captain Adam Penny, Captain Mark Goodson, Sergeants Dixon and Crivitz " stated Lieutenant Marshall in a flat monotone.
"Also in attendance are the accused, Detective First Grade John Sims, Detective Sims' Attorney, Mr. Kyle Lowe, and Detective Sims' Supervisor, Captain Mark Mathieu. Also in attendance is Court Reporter, Ms. Ann Stevens, transcribing. All parties present have been sworn in and are aware that any false statements made will be prosecuted under penalty of perjury, to the fullest extent of the law."
Lieutenant Marshall continued, "Charges have been brought against Detective First Grade John Sims, PID #5654, by this Board of Review as a result of claims of misconduct reported to the Department on or about February, 3rd of this same year. The investigation revealed, and Detectives Sims' own statements have confirmed the accusations brought against him by citizens Sara James and Lance Bird to be true and correct."
Marshall continued, "The investigators present have determined and concluded that Detective Sims has been found guilty in Violation of the Peace Offices Standards of Training, specifically regarding the articles of misconduct under color of authority, and also dereliction of duty, as well as Federal and State laws."
He then went on to read the charges and claims and asked my attorney Kyle, if everything was in order. Both Kyle and I acknowledged that it was.
Lieutenant Marshall continued, "Detective Sims, do you have any final statement you would like to make a part of the record?" I looked down at my shoes and said "No sir."
The lieutenant then said that the board would adjourn to consider its course of action and said that we could wait in the hallway until we were called back in for the Board's determination.
Almost two hours later, Sergeant Dixon came out and told Kyle and I, and Captain Mathieu that the board was ready to see us, and we re-entered the room.
"Welcome back gentlemen," said Lieutenant Marshall, "please be seated."
Kyle sat down on one side of me and Cap sat on the other side across from the board members and my heart began to pound in my chest. Here it was. The axe was about to fall. Beads of perspiration began to appear on my brow and my stomach was doing back flips like an Olympic gymnast trying to score all tens.
Marshall began, "The board has reached its determination as to the matter of Detective Sims..." I grimaced and a chill ran down my spine. I just kept thinking of Larry and what we would do if I lost my job. "It is our decision that Detective Sims be demoted to Sergeant and be re-assigned to the Patrol Division. He will resume duty as soon as the Patrol Commander can place him. He will also have his pay reduced accordingly. Considering his qualifications, and the recommendations of his peers and supervisors, the board has decided to be lenient in its reprimand of Detective, now Sergeant Sims. Having considered all the facts in this case, we believe that leniency is an appropriate response."
"Sergeant Sims, the board wishes to acknowledge, for the record, that from the first day you were employed by this department, until this incident, your record has been unblemished, and it is our hope that this will be the only blemish on that record. You are an outstanding officer and we hope this doesn't affect your attitude and determination to continue doing an outstanding job. This meeting is now adjourned."
I flushed, and barely croaked out the words, "Thank you, Sirs and Ma'am."
They all stood up and shook my hand and smiled at me. I was numb. I couldn't believe I had gotten off so easily. The Gods had smiled on me today.
We exited the room and Kyle looked at me and said, "You really dodged a bullet this time buddy." I replied, "Yeah, I sure did. I can't believe it. Thanks for being here for me Kyle, I really appreciate it." Kyle gave me a pat on the back and said, "Anytime, good luck Sergeant," and he just walked away, leaving me reeling.
Captain Mathieu also patted me on the back, smiled, and shook my hand and said, "John, you are one of the luckiest dogs I know. Good luck and we'll miss you in C-Cat, but I know you'll be back soon. Just be careful, OK?" I assured him I would and thanked him for all his support and for being such a good friend.
"Let's get together and have that drink soon, and bring that kid of yours too." He said before turning to walk away.
I drove home with a big-ass grin on my face like a crack whore with two fifty-dollar bills stuffed in my bra. I couldn't wait to tell Larry the good news.
I reached our home and drove in the driveway, got out of my truck and walked to the front door and there was Larry, as usual, already waiting at the door for me.
When he was home, he always listened for me to drive in and was always there to give me a big hug and kiss at the door, in front of the neighbors and all.
I kissed Larry hard, and hugged him, just as hard, and he started to smile the smile I loved so much, when he noticed that I was smiling.
"It looks like things must've gone good, huh daddy?" He said in a meek tone. "Yes Larry, damn good indeed. Let me tell ya all about it, but first, I need a drink." I said.
I opened a bottle of champagne that I had in the refrigerator and we toasted to me still having a job as I told him what happened. I don't think we had ever been this happy.
We finished the bottle and then undressed each other.
Larry was very emphatic that I do everything I wanted to do to him tonight, because this was my special night. I said, "Good boy, now, down on your knees."
"Your wish is my command, daddy." He said with a smile, as he proceeded to suck the living daylights out of me.
We made love all night long, like it was the very first time and fell asleep in our usual positions with his head on my chest and my hand on his ass.
Chapter 8—Back in uniform and Larry's surprise
Working the streets is never an easy job; no job a cop does is easy, but on the streets, in a marked patrol car, is one of the more dangerous ones. There is no such thing as a "routine" traffic stop.
Patrol cars are not armored, and though I always wear my Kevlar vest, I have to be extra careful at all times. They don't make Kevlar hats and collars. I had put away a lot of offenders, and as soon as I hit the streets all the parolees knew about it.
Just like cops only trust other cops, criminals usually only trust one another, and the word got around as fast as a Catholic schoolgirl on her graduation night. It was like they had their own two-ways.
Being a sergeant, I had to drive a big Chevy Blazer, which carried all the equipment and maps that prepared us for any sort of problem we might come up against in the field. My unit designator (radio call sign) is Sam 6. I also had to be available anytime an officer needed a supervisor, or got into trouble with someone.
Usually the trouble was only some irate citizen that didn't think we responded fast enough, or had done exactly what they wanted us to do. Sometimes, of course, it was worse.
Our city was divided up into 4 areas, Area 1-West, Area 2-East, Area-3 South, and Area 4-North, and each area had one sergeant assigned to it for each shift, three shifts total. It left us spread pretty thin, especially since the areas covered a lot of turf.
But all in all, the job wasn't as bad for me as it was for the patrolmen. They were the ones actually responding to all the calls, while I mostly drove around and monitored the radios, giving advice, and covering for them when necessary.
I was usually assigned to the East division, which is a pretty good area of town, so is South division. The North and West divisions are the worst.
I usually worked the evening shift. Consequently, I was never home in the evenings except on my days off and hardly saw Larry at all anymore, since he worked part-time and went to school during the day.
One night I decided to surprise Larry. I switched shifts with another sergeant and went home early.
I drove down the driveway to the carport and found another car parked in my space. "Aw, fuck," I muttered to myself. I didn't recognize the car, but, since parking was a premium on our street, I figured it belonged to one of my neighbor's visitors. So I just backed out, and luckily, found a space on the street.
I figured that by now, Larry had noticed I was home, and would be waiting at the door, like he used to do. But when I got to the door it was closed and locked. I could hear loud music inside so I surmised that Larry probably didn't hear my truck.
I didn't think I would need my keys, so I had to fumble around for the two that were needed to open the handset and the deadbolt locks. I told Larry to always keep the deadbolt locked, even when we were both home, out of caution because of my job.
Finally finding the right two keys, I opened the door wide, to get my gear bag through, and saw Larry and some other guy in our bed. My heart sunk and the blood seemed to be draining out of my head. I was in total shock and starting to get angry too. Larry jumped up and looked at me with scared eyes, and the guy that was with him just laid there like a corpse. I dropped my bag and just stood there for a minute, although it seemed like an eternity.
"What the fuck Larry, who the hell is this?" I screamed at him, getting angrier by the minute and feeling my face getting red.
"Um, daddy, um." Larry stammered. The other guy just sort of let out a gasp like something was still stuck in his throat. My fist, his teeth and blood are going to be the next thing he tastes, I thought to myself.
"Larry, just don't say one fucking word right now. I am going to go back out this door to my motherfucking truck and sit there until he is gone and you come get me. You have exactly two fucking minutes and if you aren't out there in two minutes, I'm coming back, and that shit for brains in MY bed won't like that one fucking bit. You got that!" I screamed at Larry while looking at the guy. "And you, you piece of shit bastard, you better get your clothes on in a New York fucking minute and get your ass out that fucking door before I forget I'm a cop and blow your fucking dick off." Larry said, "Yes sir." The guy was as white as a sheet.
I turned around and slammed the door behind me and walked back out to my truck. I sat there staring at my watch, knowing that if he weren't out in two minutes, I'd give him two more, or maybe ten. I was so hot by now, that I thought it was best to just sit here and chill out for a few more minutes anyway.
I saw the guy's car pull out of the driveway and waited for Larry to do as he was told. It seemed like forever, but it really was only a couple minutes.
Larry approached my truck slowly, and cautiously, he knew I was pissed off and probably thought he was a dead man. He was right on the first count.
"Daddy," Larry said when I opened my door, "daddy, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." He did look sorry, and had tears streaming down his face. I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Larry, don't. I don't even want to hear it right now."
I got out of the car and he followed me back to the apartment, telling me over and over again how sorry he was. My head was throbbing and I felt like telling him to get his shit and get out.
We went back in the apartment and I sat down on the couch and just looked down at the floor, wondering what I should do now. Larry sat on the floor in front of me crying and waiting for me to say something.
I don't know how long I sat there before falling asleep, and when I woke up the next day Larry had already left. He left me a note, again saying how sorry he was and that it was just the first time and that it didn't mean anything, but I wasn't sure now if anything he said could be believed.
I busied myself that day with cleaning the house and doing laundry and catching up on the bills, anything to keep my mind occupied. I went in to work early, thinking I could use the weight room, and also to avoid having to deal with Larry before going on duty.
Chapter 9—John gets clumsy
I went on duty that night, still unable to get the images of last night out of my mind. No matter how hard I tried, they still kept coming back, flickering in my minds eye like an old worn out peep show.
I was in complete and total emotional turmoil. I couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a second. One minute I wanted to break down and weep like a baby and the next I was angry as hell and just wanted to hurt myself, or worse, someone else.
A call came in at 2100 hours (9pm). I was monitoring the radio when I heard two two-man cars being dispatched to a shots fired call.
The dispatcher squawked out:
"1-Boy 67 and unit to back, code 3, on a 415 dispute, shots fired, heard only, from inside the residence at 2020 E. 3rd Street, caller is a neighbor in the back house, only one shot heard, one caller so far. CP (calling party) wishes no contact. Call number 1022. Units, further on MDT" (The dispatcher was telling the units to check their screens for more information.)
The MDT said that the call came from a cell phone somewhere in the area of the reported address.
The units responded:
"1-Boy 67 responding from Orange and 4th." And then "Unit 1-Boy 3, responding to back, also from Orange and 4th."
Dispatch:
"10-4, Boy 67 and Boy 43 responding to the 415 shots call on 3rd
I responded:
"1-Sam 6 enroute to the shots call from Ocean and Appleton. Is Fox (the police chopper) up?"
Dispatch:
"10-4, Sam 6. Responding, from Ocean and Appleton. Fox are you on this air?"
It was my job to monitor and respond to these types of calls.
I arrived at the residence and the two cruisers were already there. The chopper was already overhead also. The four patrolmen and I were listening to what the chopper was reporting he saw on the ground before we approached the house.
The helicopter reported that it could not see anything or anyone on the ground, and asked if we wanted them to I/R (use their infra-red camera) the place, but reported that it would take a few minutes for the camera to warm up.
The house was a green Craftsman style bungalow, and appeared to be vacant at first glance, considering all the overgrowth of grass and shrubs. It had a chain link fence covered in ghetto roses (Morning Glories) surrounding both it and the house in the back.
On the east side was a cinder block fence and driveway, on the west side was another residence that had a wooden fence and gate that didn't allow access to the back.
I told two of the officers to walk down the driveway, behind the block wall, on the neighbor's side of the house, so they'd have cover. I wanted them to check out the back of the house and see if they could see anything. I told the other two to follow me as we went cautiously through the gate in the front of the house.
There wasn't any cover for us approaching the front door and there were plenty of windows to see out of for anyone inside to see us.
I had one officer go to the right and stand at one corner of the house, and told the other to go left and do the same, "Try to get a good view inside and cover me," I said.
The two officers in the back were reporting that they didn't see anyone inside and that the house looked vacant. Fox was still circling overhead.
Being the senior officer, I went to the door and looked in through the glass and saw nothing inside. The house was completely vacant. Not a stick of furniture inside. I was right. It probably hadn't been lived in for quite a while.
I radioed in from my hand-held, "1-Sam 6. Code 4 on the shots call on 3rd. It appears unfounded. Boy 67 and I will be out a few more minutes checking." I sent the chopper away by saying, "Thanks Fox, we're code 4 down here." The chopper responded, "10-4 Sarge." And flew off to another call. And I told the other unit, Boy 43, to make themselves 10-8 (back in service).
All of us gathered back at the front of the residence and me and one of the patrolmen decided to check out the back house, where the person lived that reported the call. The other patrolman stayed back at our units.
Even though they didn't want contact, we were pissed off that our time had been wasted and wanted to give him a piece of our minds.
I walked ahead of the patrolman down the small broken concrete path that lead to the back house. The shrubbery around it was so thick that only one of us at a time could traverse it.
The growth of the grass that filled the cracks in the concrete indicated that this was not a path taken regularly by the tenants in the back house. And, thank God, there appeared to be no dogs to worry about.
The patrolman and I joked about all the different ways we were going to ream this guy, as we walked, up to and including sticking both boots up his ass.
Unseen by any of us, and lying in wait, hidden by the bushes near the back door of the front house, was a man determined to off a cop tonight just because he felt like it. Since I was the first cop he saw, I was his target for the evening.
He fired just one shot that caught me right in the mouth, broke my teeth and shattered my jaw, it bounced around inside my head like a pinball for a few seconds before exiting the back of my neck.
I fell to the ground like a rag doll and everything went black. The last thing I remember was the patrolman screaming, "He's got a gun!" Unfortunately for me, it was too late.
Since only the good die young and heaven wouldn't take me and the devil didn't want me, I made it. After three weeks in intensive care and four more months in a coma, I finally came to.
Through blurry eyes, the first thing I saw was someone's face, and I could feel someone holding my hand too. As the grogginess faded, I began to recognize the face. It was my boy, Larry.
When he realized I was awake, he smiled that smile that I loved so much, and it felt good to see him.
Larry screamed out, "Daddy! You're awake! And then said softly, "Oh my daddy, I love you so much." And he hugged me as best he could around all the tubes and equipment I had strapped to me.
The male nurse came in right away, apparently hearing Larry scream, and started doing all his nursie things to me, like checking vitals and stuff, and he called for the doctor.
The doc showed up a few minutes later and read my chart and spoke for a minute with the nurse before coming over to me to do the same things the nurse had just gotten done doing.
I couldn't talk; my mouth was filled with a tube so big it felt like I was trying to give head to a donkey, and my jaw had been wired. My head felt like I had gone 30 rounds with Ali, and lost, and I couldn't feel anything below my waist. My legs didn't move when I tried to move them. But, hey, at least, I was still alive.
Chapter 10—The Aftermath
The doc took Larry aside and whispered something to him and Larry left the room.
Doc Crosby was an old-time doctor, one that didn't mince words and didn't care what Insurance companies told him he should do. I liked that. He had been my doctor since I was just a kid. He was as old as the hills and as crusty as a three-day-old slice of French bread.
He had actually retired from private practice because he didn't want anyone telling him how to practice medicine, especially the insurance companies and he had plenty to say on that particular subject. Come to think of it, he had plenty to say on any damn subject you could think of. He was an opinionated old fart.
When I was eight years old, I broke my arm, roller-skating in the house (go figure). And my grandparents were taking care of me at the time, since my mom was away.
They rushed me to the emergency room and soon realized they didn't have the permission slip they needed from my mom to give to the hospital. The hospital wasn't going to do anything until they had that little fucking slip of paper.
Old doc Crosby just happened to be working the ER that night, and saw me laying on the gurney in a hallway and asked a nurse what was going on. She told him that they were waiting for my grandparents to find the permission slip, before they started any treatment. I had already waited over an hour, because they couldn't remember where they put it.
He took one look at me, lying there in excruciating pain, and yelled at the poor nurse, "You get him in to x-ray right now and get him a shot of Morphine, STAT!" Man, I thought she'd jump right out of those white shoes and lose her slip on the way up, she moved so fast!
The doctor approached me, and looked at me intently, and for a moment, did not say a word. Finally, he said, "Well Johnny boy, it looks like you had yourself a little accident again." And laughed heartily. The sick bastard always did have a wicked sense of humor. I didn't see the humor in it, but then again, I couldn't see too well yet anyway.
He said, "John, don't talk, just listen." That old fuck knew I couldn't talk, what the hell? If I could have laughed, I would have, this time I thought it was funny.
He proceeded to explain to me in plain old English what had happened, what they did to save my life and what to expect now. It wasn't a pretty story, but I had already surmised that much, considering what I could and couldn't feel.
Doc Crosby told my that the bullet tore up my brain pretty bad before nicking my spinal cord and heading out the back of my neck. He assured me that I didn't have the brains God gave a piss-ant, so I would be just fine.
He also told me that I might never be able to walk again and that speaking, feeding myself and tying my shoes were going to be Olympic class training events. He also told me I'd need dentures and that my dick would probably still work, if it worked before, that is. Funny man.
After he finished, he handed me a chalkboard and some chalk and said, "Here John, you can talk now."
My fingers didn't work very well, but I was able to scrawl out, "Thanks doc." And he just smiled, put his hand on mine and said, "The nurse will be back in a few minutes. I'll let Larry come back in now. Oh, and by the way, you probably don't know this, (there's that sick humor again, I thought) but that kid stayed by your side every chance he could. We had to chase his ass off several times." If I could have smiled, I would have been grinning from ear to ear. He squeezed my hand, patted me on the shoulder and left the room.
Larry came bounding back in like a dog seeing a bitch in heat for the first time and sat down in the chair next to my bed. He took my hand and looked into my eyes and said, "Daddy, I missed you. I'm so sorry daddy, I thought you were going to leave me forever, and I don't know how I could live without you."
There was a nagging feeling of something bad that I was supposed to remember in the back of my mind, but I let it go. I just wanted to savor this moment and look into his beautiful blue eyes forever.
Larry said, "Dad, the doctor told me that you might not walk again, and that you might not remember things very well. But I want you to know that I will do everything I can possibly do to help you. He told me you would probably not be the man I knew, ever again, but dad, I don't care if you aren't the old daddy anymore. I love you now more than ever. If I have to scrub floors and clean toilets to feed us I will, if I have to dress you and feed you I will, if I have to wipe your ass for you I will. Whatever it takes, I will do it, without hesitation."
He put his head down on my chest and began to cry. I was crying too, but they were tears of joy. I thought to myself, that's my boy.
After six more months in the hospital, I was released to go home with Larry. I was able to walk with the help of a walker and two burly nurses (who looked like linebackers for the Raiders) holding my arms, and my speech was getting better, although I still slurred and sounded like a Scotsman after three nights and days at the pub.
Larry drove me home in our truck and helped me out, propped me up on the side of the truck, fetched me my walker and helped me into the house.
I was never happier to see that dingy place. Our home. I told Larry, "Thank you my boy." And Larry said, "No thanks necessary old man, that's what I'm here for, and for the rest of our lives, I'll be here for you."
"I love you Larry." "I love you too, John."
Prologue
It took John several more months to get back to a level where he could work again. He was able to do it only because of the love that Larry felt for him, it made John even stronger then he had been prior to the shooting.
John never did recall what happened the night he caught Larry 'in flagrante', or at least, he never let on that he did. But that was John's way, forgive and forget, and Larry was totally faithful to John from that night onward. The fact that John never brought it up again only steeled Larry's resolve to never let another slip ever occur.
When John was finally able to go back to work, he had to take a desk job, because getting around was still difficult for him, but the best thing of all occurred, he was made the commander of the C-Cat team, and given the rank of Captain.
Sure, he had to sit in the office and just watch and hear what was going on in the field, but to John, that was a small price to pay to be able to be a part of the action again.
Larry earned his degree in Engineering and graduated Magna Cum Laude, and gave the commencement speech at graduation; he thanked John so many times it began to get monotonous. By the time of his graduation, he had already received five job offers from top engineering firms in the country.
The worst days of their lives had passed.
After thirty-five years on the job, John retired. Larry had his own very successful and prominent engineering firm, rated number two out of the top five in the country, and John, never able to sit idle, took a job as a security agent for a shipping firm.
They moved to Barbados and drank rum by night and bathed in the sun by day, and are probably still there today, John on his back in the sand and Larry resting his head on John's chest.
Copyright 2005-Dale Stephens