tagNovels and NovellasBadge of Dishonor Ch. 30

Badge of Dishonor Ch. 30

byD.C. Roi©

Passion In James County X

Badge of Dishonor

By D.C. Roi

Chapter thirty


"Don't screw this up," Rod's lawyer told him while they were walking out of the courthouse after Rod's arraignment the next day. He had made what he thought was an eloquent plea to get his client released on conditions, even though he believed the judge would set high bail. He was stunned when Judge Gephart bought his arguments and released the accused trooper on conditions, but then Judge Gephart had been getting pretty senile the past few years. "I'm not sure why the judge let you out on conditions, but I'm not about to complain," the lawyer continued. "The thing is, you better do exactly what the judge told you to do, or you're going to be back in the slammer, probably for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, sure," Rod said. "I heard what he said. I can't drink and I gotta stay away from my wife and kids, and from that fucker on the Sheriff's Department who's been screwing my wife, right?"

"Yes, and you have to check in personally at the Highway Patrol office at seven in the morning and six at night," his lawyer said. "And no drinking! That's important."

Rod walked out of the back door of the courthouse and got into his pickup truck. "Where the fuck am I going to go?" he wondered. Then a cold smile formed on his face. "Wanda!" he said out loud.

He fired up his truck and pulled out of the courthouse parking lot, headed for Wanda Dawes' house. On the way, he drove by the house where he and his family lived and got a gun he had taken off a drug dealer he busted and stashed away to use as a throwaway he could plant on a suspect, if necessary.

Then he drove to a nearby store and bought a twelve-pack of beer. "Fuck the judge!" he thought as he sucked down a beer while driving down the street.

Wanda Dawes, dressed in a lime green jumpsuit that clung to her ample curves, was heading for the kitchen to begin making dinner when she heard her doorbell ringing. She went to the front door, opened it and found Rod Billingham standing there, holding a twelve-pack of beer in his hands.

Rod looked a mess. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days while, his clothes were disheveled, and there was a wild look in his eyes. Wanda was frightened by what she saw.

"Hey, baby!" Rod exclaimed, "You look pretty fucking good. I like the outfit."

Wanda was stunned. Her husband had told her about the trouble Rod was in and she thought he was in jail. "What...what are you doing here, Rod?" she stammered.

"You wanna have a beer with me?" Rod asked.

"Ah...Rod...you...you have to leave," Wanda said. She didn't know why Rod was there and was afraid. If he'd raped one woman and shot at the cops like her husband said he did, then he was dangerous, and there was no telling what he'd do to her.

Rod walked by her, into the living room. "Come on, baby, I don't want to drink alone. You don't mind having a beer with me, do you?" he asked. He set the six-pack down on the coffee table, opened a couple of cans of beer, and took along swallow from one of them.

"Rod, please, you have to leave," Wanda said.

Rod looked at her and a cold smile formed on his face. "You don't really mean that, baby," he said. "Not after all you and I have done. Come on, baby, have a beer."

Wanda was really frightened now. "Rod, stop it, I want you to leave!" she said. "Now!"

"Just as soon as you come across with what I want, baby," Rod said. He walked across the living room to where Wanda stood and grabbed one of her breasts.

Wanda, trembling, barely able to breathe, pushed at his hand. "That hurts, Rod. Stop it!" she murmured.

"You have a choice," Rod said. "You can do this the easy way or do it the hard way. It doesn't matter to me. I'm gonna get what I want either way." He let loose a cold laugh. "Remember, baby, I got nothing to lose. Not a fuckin' thing."

Wanda was filled with fear and felt herself trembling. "Rod! You can't be serious!" she said. "You...you wouldn't..."

Without warning, Rod ripped open the top of her jumpsuit, baring her braless breasts. "You better believe I'm serious, baby," he growled. "You don't have any idea how serious I am!"

Wanda was filled with panic and so confused she couldn't think straight.

"Take your fucking clothes off, you goddamn cock-teasing bitch!" he ordered.

Trembling, Wanda pulled the pieced of the ripped jumpsuit together, trying to cover herself as best she could.

Rod said, "You got the idea now, don't you, baby?" He gestured with his finger. "Come here, bitch."

Like a zombie, Wanda moved toward him, too frightened to do anything else.

"Get down on your knees, you fucking cunt!" Rod ordered.

Wanda sank to her knees on the rug in front of Rod and watched him unzip his pants and pull out his erect penis.

"There you go babe?" he said proudly, "You like my fuck-pole, don't you?"

Wanda stayed quiet. She just knelt there, hugging her arms across her breasts.

"Don't you?" Rod repeated, his voice louder. "Tell me, bitch!"

"Yes," Wanda replied softly. "I...I like it."

"Suck it!" Rod demanded.

"What?" Wanda asked. She was so frightened she didn't hear his demand.

Rod raised his hand, as if he were going to slap her. Wanda cringed. "I said suck it, bitch!" he yelled. "You heard me! Suck my cock!"

Wanda did as she was told. "This can't be happening!" she thought. "This has to be a nightmare." She took his cock in her mouth and began to lick and suck it, moving her mouth up and down on it as quickly as possible, hoping to get this repugnant scene over with as soon as possible. Maybe then he'd leave and let her alone.

"Oh, baby!" Rod groaned as her lips moved on him. "That's it!!! You're some cock sucker!!!"

He grabbed Wanda's head in his hands and began to fuck himself into her mouth. Luckily for Wanda, he wasn't all that big, or he might have hurt her. Even so, his motions were so violent her jaws began to ache.

After what seemed like an eternity, Rod stiffened, moaned, and spurted his hot, sticky fluids into the woman's mouth. Then he left go of her head, staggered backward a few steps, and collapsed on the sofa.

Wanda, gagging, let herself collapse on the floor, spitting out as much of his seed as she could. She needed a bath, wanted to rinse her mouth out, wanted to remove every trace of him from her body.

When she felt she could speak, she sat up and asked, "Are...are you going to leave now, Rod?" she asked.

Rod sat up and smiled coldly at her. "You got to be kidding, baby!" he replied. "Now we're gonna go upstairs and I'm gonna fuck that fine bod of yours, just like always. You got that?"

Wanda nodded weakly. She couldn't believe this was happening. Why had she been so stupid as to get involved with him in the first place?

"Come on, bitch!" Rod said. "Get up off the goddamn floor and get your fuckin' ass upstairs."

"Honey, I...Jesus H. Christ!" a new male voice said.

State Patrol Sergeant Ernie Dawes, aware he'd been ignoring his wife lately, experienced a rare burst of romanticism. He stopped at a little flower shop on his way home from work and bought some flowers to surprise her. He knew that their marriage was going through a rocky period and, after he saw what happened to Rod Billingham, he decided he better try to be a better husband.

He'd intended to surprise his wife, but, while he stood in the front doorway of his house, dumbfounded, staring at the two people in his living room, he was the one who was surprised. He saw his wife's ripped outfit and the shiny substance on her face. He also saw that Rod Billingham was sitting on his sofa, with his limp cock hanging out of his unzipped pants. As understanding of what must have happened began to sink in, Ernie's hand automatically started moving toward the holstered gun on his belt. "Don't move, Billingham!" he said. "Get on your face on the ground!"

Rod was surprised to see the sergeant standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. "Fuck you, Dawes!" he yelled. He jumped to his feet and his hand went behind him, reaching for the gun stuck behind his belt. He grabbed it, pulled it out, and pointed at the sergeant. "You're gonna fuckin' die, Ernie!" he screamed, "then I'm gonna fuck your old lady right next to your cooling body!"

"Rod, don't do this!" Ernie Dawes said as he continued to draw his weapon. "You're in enough trouble already, if you..." He was having a hard time processing what he was seeing. It wasn't possible that Rod Billingham, a man he worked with, a man he'd been in tough situations with, was doing this, and that Rod would actually try to shoot him. His gun came out of his holster and started to raise. "Drop the gun, Rod!" he ordered, "Do it now!"

"Fuck you, Ernie!" Rod growled. He pulled the trigger.

Ernie Dawes pulled the trigger on his weapon at the same time something slammed into his chest, knocking him back against the door jamb. He continued pulling the trigger as he gasped for breath and, even though is vision was blurred, he could see red holes appearing on Rod Billingham's chest. He could also hear his wife screaming over the gun's loud explosions.

Finally, even though he was still pulling the trigger, all he heard was clicks. Rod Billingham wasn't standing in front of him anymore and Ernie was confused. He wasn't sure where the other man had gone. All he could hear was his wife screaming and the clicking of his empty gun. Finally, with his hands trembling, the sergeant reached for the radio microphone attached to his shoulder and pressed the button on it.

"James...Jamestown from...from 305," Ernie croaked. "Off...officer needs help...shots fired...off...officer down, armed...armed suspect. Need...need an...an ambulance. Been...been shot!"

"Jamestown to 305!" the dispatcher replied, his voice showing strain. "What is your location, 305?"

"Ho...home...my...home," Ernie replied, barely able to talk. "Help...help me!" His empty gun fell from his hand and thumped to the carpeted floor. The sergeant, no longer able to stand, slid to a sitting position on the floor, leaning against the door casing. He fought against the blackness threatening to overwhelm him.

"Jamestown to all available patrol units!" Ernie vaguely heard the dispatcher yell. "We have an officer down, shots fired, Sergeant Dawes' residence!"

While unit after unit told dispatch they were responding to the Dawes residence, with the sound of screaming sirens in the background, Ernie Dawes slipped into unconsciousness.

Tim Jackman burst into Alex's office. "Dispatch just picked up a call from the Patrol," he said. "They're responding to an officer down, shots fired, call at the Dawes residence. Ernie Dawes is a sergeant on the patrol, and he lives in our jurisdiction, just outside town."

"You know anything else?" Alex asked.

"No," Tim said. "I think I better get some of my people rolling on the call, don't you?"

"Get your duty detective team started," Alex said, standing up and taking his gun out of his desk drawer and clipping it to his belt. "The closest patrol unit, and the lab people, too. I have a feeling we're going to need their help."

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