Reaper (10 page)

“What about the rest of it?”

Dallas grinned. “I think that man just about shit his pants when you offered to take him into that diner and buy him a good meal. He was dead sure you were going to roust him for whatever change he’d managed to get, begging outside of it.” Turning serious again, he said, “I guess I didn’t realize that you did more than just take care of the predators who prey on the street kids. How come you never told me that?”

Zack shrugged. “It never came up.”

“Zack…” Dallas shook his head. “What you did for…umm, Dalek and Kalie? That was a good thing. Now if you could only convince them there are better ways to earn money.”

“I wish. I’d love to do that for all the kids out there selling themselves, but that won’t happen. When you’re in that position, you do what you must to survive.”

“Someone needs to go around handing out condoms to them.”

“Someone does. Most of the shelters have outreach people who distribute food, water and condoms to the kids. The problem is, getting them understand how important it is to make the johns use them. Like Kalie tonight. The john told her he was clean and, foolishly, she believed him. Or, I guess, she wanted to because she needed the money.”

“So from now on, we carry condoms with us when we’re out there.”

Zack smiled, hugging him tightly. “We will.”

“For now, however,” Dallas said with a sigh, “I need to shower and get ready for work.”

Zack glanced at the time before saying, “We’ll shower together and…” He gave Dallas a fiery kiss. “Work off the stress from tonight.”

“I think I can handle that.”

Chapter Ten

Dallas spent the next few days trying to get used to his new hours for work since his body clock was adjusting to getting up in the morning, rather than going to bed. That, coupled with spending the early morning hours on the streets with Zack, left him tired and a bit grumpy. Even having just had Thursday off didn’t do much to alleviate it since Zack still had to go into the office.

Mike, on the other hand, was a happy camper. “I’m actually getting to spend quality time with Carol, and pretty soon with my son too.”

“If we don’t get switched back to nights when the next shift assignments come up,” Dallas grumbled.

“Bite your tongue.” Mike, who was driving as usual, made the turn onto a side street. “You know that vigilante guy, Reaper?”

“Presumed vigilante,” Dallas pointed out.

“Okay. Presumed. Anyway, rumor has it he has a partner now.”

“Seriously,” Dallas replied, feigning surprise. “So pretty soon they’ll be making us obsolete.”

Mike snorted. “Not from what the captain said at roll call.”

“Which was?”

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep while he was talking. Damn, Dallas.”

Dallas grinned. “Nope. Was just resting my eyes—and my ears.”

“Man, you have to stop staying up so late watching bad cop movies—or is it action shows?”

A bit of both, but not the way he thinks.
“Actually, it’s horror movies. I’m still having trouble getting a full night’s sleep.”

“You need some hot sex. That’ll knock you out like that.” Mike snapped his fingers.

“First I’d need to find someone to have it with.”

“Hit up a couple of clubs. There’s got to be men out there who are turned on by the idea of screwing a cop.”

“Maybe I’m the screwer, not the screwee,” Dallas replied, winking.

“TMI,” Mike grumbled before getting back to what he’d been saying originally. “Anyway, there’s a BOLO out on this Reaper guy, and the captain wants everyone gathering any information they can on him and whoever’s helping him.”

Just what we need.
“Yeah, I saw the BOLO. Not that the day shift will have much luck with that, since he apparently only works nights, or more specifically, very early in the morning.”

“Which we know from dealing with the aftermath.” Mike chuckled. “Another nice perk of working days. We don’t have to dumpster dive for his… Well, not sure they’re victims, considering why he chooses them.”

“Definitely not victims. Perps would be my description. And they deserve what he does to them.”

“Don’t tell me you agree with what he’s doing.”

Dallas shrugged. “He’s helping clean up the streets. Leaving us time to worry about the important things, like B&Es, holdups and what have you.”

“Traffic stops,” Mike added as he turned on the lights and flashers to let the driver of a car that had just run a red light know to pull over.

“That too.”
I have to let Zack know about the BOLO
.

Mike pulled up behind the car when it came to a stop at the curb.

* * * *

“Just what we don’t need,” Zack said upon hearing Dallas’ news about the BOLO. He finished hanging up his suit and shirt as he thought about it. “Exactly what are they looking for?”

“A man dressed in black and leathers, with dark, possible black, medium-length hair, probably accompanied by a second man. No description on him so far.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

“You know,” Dallas said, as he took off his uniform shirt, “you could start wearing something else.”

“Silver armor?” Zack asked, smirking.

“No, you nut. Though it would suit you.” He folded the shirt, adding it to the pile for the cleaners. “There is another option. We do a one-eighty and dress as if we’re homeless. It wouldn’t be as threatening, but there would still be the element of surprise and we’d be a hell of a lot harder to spot.”

Zack nodded slowly. “I thought about that at the beginning, but”—he chuckled—“my need for theatrics won out.”

Dallas snorted. “Of course it did, but I think it’s time to shelve that and go for the practical.” By then, he had his pants off and went to set them on the pile as well. He turned back to find Zack right in front of him, a lascivious look on his face. “We should eat and get to bed,” Dallas muttered.

“I’m aiming for getting to bed then eating afterward,” Zack replied. “Think we should do that?” He cupped Dallas’ face, giving him a swift kiss, followed by a slower, deeper one, thus muffling whatever Dallas’ answer might have been.

“Bed…good…” Dallas managed to get out when the kiss ended.

Since it had been his suggestion, Zack made quick work of tumbling Dallas onto the bed and stripping him of his briefs.

“Now what to do with you.” Zack sat back on his heels, eyeing his lover. “Looks like this”—he stroked his fingers lightly up and down Dallas’ already semi-erect cock—“needs some attention of the oral kind.”

“No…kidding… So…?”

Zack winked. “In a moment, love. First…” He tweaked each of Dallas’ nipples, well aware of the effect it would have. He smiled when Dallas’ cock hardened perceptively. “Better. But…”

“Damn it, Zack!”

“Aw, getting impatient?” Zack grinned before getting down to business. He took Dallas’ cock into his mouth, laving it with his tongue to bring Dallas right to the edge then releasing him. Despite Dallas’ groan of dismay, Zack waited until his lover had calmed somewhat then began his exquisite torture again. This time, he partially swallowed Dallas’ member, after circling the base with two fingers to keep him from coming.

“You are being…” Dallas growled even as he arched, thrusting his cock deeply into Zack’s throat. “A…damned…brat.”

After chuckling to torment his lover even more, Zack finally moved away, still keeping his fingers where they were. Kneeling, he said, “I’m too old to be a brat.”

“Bet me.” Putting his hands on Zack’s shoulders, Dallas pulled himself up, meshing his lips to Zack’s in a passionate, heated kiss, fucking his lover’s mouth with his tongue. Then he eased Zack back onto the bed. “Legs up.”

“Is that an order, Officer?”

Dallas smirked. “You bet it is.”

While Zack complied, Dallas got the lube, generously greasing two fingers. Settling between his thighs, Dallas pushed one finger into Zack’s waiting hole. He found the sweet spot and began to torment Zack, stroking then pausing.

“You are so dead if you do that one more time.”

“Do you know what happens when you threaten a cop?” Dallas asked, pushing the second finger in to stretch Zack’s entrance.

“I’m screwed?”

“That would be one result,” Dallas agreed. He eased his fingers out and applied a thick dollop of lube to his cock, slathering it from the base to the bulbous head.

Zack watched him in anticipation of what was to come. When instead of entering him, Dallas leaned over to lick the pre-cum from Zack’s leaking slit, Zack gasped in surprise. “You are going to drive me insane.” He moaned.

“I was considering it,” Dallas admitted, chortling. “But I’m not sure I have enough willpower not to come while I do.” With that said, he pressed the head of his cock to Zack’s hole and thrust inside him.

Zack let out a groan, Dallas paused, and Zack arched up, taking his lover’s cock halfway in. “Now, screw me,” he panted.

“With pleasure.” Dallas thrust all the way in before wrapping his hand around Zack’s throbbing cock.

“Yes,” Zack barely got out as he rode Dallas’ hand while his lover fucked him into oblivion. Pleasure mounted, Zack’s balls tightened, and he exploded, his cum splattering both their chests as his orgasm shattered him. Almost at the same moment, Dallas let out a cry of release that echoed through the room.

“I’ll never get enough of this—or of you,” Zack said as he gathered Dallas into his arms a few moments later. He could feel his lover’s tremors—that matched his own as they came down from their sexually induced high—and gently kissed him. “I love you, with all my heart.”

“I love you as well,” Dallas whispered against his lips. “Always and forever.”

Chapter Eleven

Reaper stumbled down the street with Wrath right beside him. He bit back a laugh when Wrath tripped then cursed a non-existent crack in the sidewalk.

“Ain’t no crack there, man. Sidewalk’s smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

‘‘Damned lumpy baby then,” Wrath retorted, wrapping his arms around himself.

They continued on their way, glancing down alleys when they passed them, as if looking for the right one to crash in. Reaper was dressed in well-worn jeans, with a blue flannel shirt that looked like it had come out of the nearest dumpster. He also wore a dirty gray T-shirt and battered tennis shoes. He had an old baseball cap with a bent brim settled crookedly on his head. Wrath had on multi-patched tan khakis, a green collarless shirt and a holey hoodie with the hood pulled up over a blue watch cap.

In front of them was a small park, lit only by the half-moon above it and one tired lamppost at the back edge. As they began to walk past, they heard taunting voices.

“Problem,” Reaper said sotto voce. He inched his way into the shadows along the side of the park with Wrath right behind him. Ahead by the lone bench, they saw three well-dressed, somewhat inebriated teens. Beyond them, barely discernable, was a raggedy homeless man of indeterminable age. His shopping cart lay on its side beside the bench, the contents spread across the ground.

One of the teens picked up something that had fallen from the cart and threw it at the derelict. The second teen did the same and said in disgust, “Who’d wear this?”

The third, and bulkiest, teen watched for a moment then shoved the homeless man off the bench onto the pile of clothing, tattered blankets and other items. The man curled up, covering his head and yelping when one of the teens grabbed something heavy from the pile and hit him with it. He cried out again when one of the teens kicked him.

“Having fun, boys?” Reaper asked from a few feet away.

“Look, guys, this piece of shit has a friend,” the biggest teen said, spinning around to face him. “Where’s
your
shopping cart? I thought all you people had them.”

Getting in the teen’s face, Reaper growled, “Like all you punks have no brains?”

“Oh boy, we have a brave one,” the teen crowed, making a grab for Reaper’s arm. Suddenly, he was on the ground with Reaper towering over him.

“You like kicking people when they’re down?” Reaper asked. “Well, turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?” He landed a hard kick to the teen’s hip.

Wrath came into view. He reached for the smallest teen, who darted out of the way. The third teen picked up a thick stick from the pile beside the cart, holding it threateningly.

“I dare you,” Wrath told him, smirking.

The kid lunged at him, swinging the stick. Wrath ducked, kicking out his leg to trip the teen. As the boy started to fall, Wrath grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back. Wrath let out a whoof of air when the smallest one tackled him. If Wrath hadn’t been holding the other teen, he would have fallen. As it was, Wrath spun him around by his arm, using him as a battering ram to knock the small boy down. A popping sound, followed by a scream of pain, let Wrath know he’d dislocated the teen’s shoulder in the process.

By then, Reaper had pulled the bulky one to his feet. “If I was you,” Reaper told him, “I’d gather up my friends and get the hell out of here before we turn all of you into pulp.”

The punk looked for a moment as if he was going to argue the point, so Reaper backhanded him.

“If we ever see the three of you hassling the homeless again,” Reaper said angrily, “what we did to you tonight will seem like child’s play. Understand?”

The teen muttered, “If we don’t take care of you first,” but he backed away fearfully. Then he and the other one helped their companion, who was crying with pain, out of the park.

“Thank you, thank you,” the homeless man said, staggering to his feet. He rubbed his shoulder, where the can had hit it, wincing.

“Are you going to be okay?” Wrath asked with concern.

“Had worse than this done to me,” he replied. He thanked him when Wrath righted the shopping cart, and with Wrath’s and Reaper’s help, he got everything back into it.

“You take care,” Reaper said. “And get something to protect yourself.”

“Had that stick, but they surprised me,” the man told him.

Reaper nodded. “A piece of rebar works better, but you have to keep it with you when you crash, not in the cart.”