Bang Switch (Code 11-KPD SWAT 3)

It gave out with a huff of black smoke, and the biker hadn’t wasted any time trying to run me over.

It’d been by the grace of God that I’d managed to not be plowed over by my own truck.

When I went down and under the truck, I’d seen my life flash before my eyes.

All the things I’d wanted to do, and hadn’t wanted to do with my life roared through my thoughts.

The bike had crunched underneath the chassis of the truck, and I’d lain there stunned that I hadn’t been killed, or worse, pinned.

I’d done neither, and my reflexes had been like lightening when the biker had gotten out to look at his handiwork.

When he’d bent down, I’d given him a boot to the face with all the power I could pull out, slamming it all into his face with a sickening crack.

I guess I’d been high on adrenaline or something, because the kick had had a lot more force than I thought it would. It’d snapped the man’s first two vertebrae in his neck, causing him to become paralyzed from the neck down.

To this day, three months later, the man was still on a vent, aware but unable to move.

The girl who’d been shot, the clerk, had died.

She’d been seventeen.

The pregnant woman had lost her child, miscarrying the night of the subsequent robbery, and I’d been left with a bitter taste in my mouth.

Needless to say, I couldn’t talk about it.

It brought up too many bad memories. Ones that I didn’t want to think about.

Chief Rhodes must’ve recognized my reluctance to speak on the subject, so he’d changed the focus by introducing Miller to the group as the newest member of the SWAT team.

Memphis wasn’t interested in Miller.

Her eyes were all for me.

Narrowing them at me as she glared for all that she was worth.

She couldn’t rattle me, though.

My dick may find her attractive, as did my mind, but I’d been a cop for eight years now, and had been in the Army for eight years before that.

If I’d learned anything in that time, it was how to take a glare.

Because glaring was something that I got every day on the job.

Being a police officer wasn’t a pretty profession.

A lot of people didn’t like cops just on general principle.

They had no problem calling us when they were in need of our services, though.

Even the ones that had a problem with our authority, like Memphis did.

The question and answer went on for an hour longer, stopping once the clock struck ten.

The students had enjoyed the question and answer period. All except Memphis, who’d continued to glare the entire time.

I took in in stride, and as they all walked out, I watched her as she left.

She really had a great body.

I’d describe it as round.

The skirt she wore was hugged tightly to her hips, but the curves she had were what I’d describe as soft. It wasn’t the toned flesh that I’d usually be attracted to.

Her body wasn’t perfect, but that turned me on even more to know that, when I fucked her, she’d have a little bit of cushion. A little something extra for me to grab a hold of enabling me to fuck her all the harder.

“What’s her reason for being here?” I asked as the last student filed out of the room.

The chief didn’t pretend that he didn’t know what I was talking about. He knew.

“Memphis Conner. She said she was here for elective credit hours so she could finish her degree as an ultrasound technician,” Chief Rhodes explained. “I think she chose this because she wanted to know more about the law. To keep herself informed. She’s very,” he searched for the right word. “Ambitious. She participates in the class, and asks questions. She’s exactly the kind of student one would want. Though, I know she’s interested to know about something. Something I haven’t figured out…yet.”

I’d gotten the same vibe from her myself.

She may be here for her ‘elective hours.’ However, she had an ulterior motive in taking this particular class. Police laws and procedures wasn’t usually the one most people took for electives. It was normally Introduction into Criminal Justice. Which meant she’d taken the other two classes that were required to get her to this point.

All I wanted to know was why.

Why was she so sweet this morning, smiling shyly at me, and all glaring this afternoon?

However, she’d inadvertently tripped a trigger inside of me.

One that loved a fucking challenge.Chapter 3I wear black to workout it. It’s like a funeral for my fat.

-T-shirt

Memphis

“Shit,” I growled as, once again, the fucking asshole next door, kept me up. This time with his moaning.

For the fourth night in a row.

As if I didn’t have anything else to hate the man about, he wouldn’t stop his midnight rendezvous long enough to let me get a full night’s rest.

Jesus Christ, why me?

At least this time he wasn’t being asked to bark like a dog, or some shit like that.

What a fucking douche.

My head turned until I could see the clock.

It read 1:18 A.M.

“Would you give me a fucking break?” I screamed, slamming my heels against the wall.

Peter barked, following my lead, and the moaning stopped.

I fell asleep, scared to death that he wouldn’t let me sleep because he was too busy fucking some chick.

However, it started back up again an hour later, waking me up.

That was about when I lost patience.

Throwing the covers off my body, I stupidly stormed out of the apartment and moved down the hall to Officer Downy’s apartment.

Then I proceeded to slam my fist down hard on the door, rattling the door with intensity.

It might have been more impressive if pain hadn’t shot up my arm with each pound, or possibly if the door wasn’t a piece of shit that wouldn’t keep a toddler out.

Regardless of the fact, my display, to me, was impressive.

My anger was hot and raging, and I was good and mad, ready to rip the man who couldn’t keep it in his pants a new one.