" No matter what," she repeated. "Midnight in the barn, okay?" she whispered. Then she went to join her companion and go into the house.I occupied the...rest of my day with the horses. They all wanted attention and I eschewed saddles and pads and just swung up on each of the horses bareback for a little trip around the field with the other two tagging along and pestering me the whole time."Dad? Would it be okay for me to take the horses back to Bloomington with me now? The construction traffic. My heart is hammering and I'm still not sure I want to go ahead with this, but I put my hands on the bed to steady myself.His hands press on the insides of my thigh. "Open your legs for me, baby." I part my legs wider for him, feeling so vulnerable bent over with my legs splayed apart, feeling kind of slutty and ashamed that he talked me into this, but wanting it anyway, wanting to be a bitch and take it. He's standing between my legs, shoving them farther apart with his strong thighs and. It became very obvious to me then that they were coming here for the same reason that I had. This was probably going to be awkward. But I should have expected it. I thought back to the first time I'd seen him. It had been about a year and a half ago. Back when I was still a cop.My partner and I had been in one of the yuppie neighborhoods on the Upper East Side. We got there to discover that there was an argument going on over a fucking parking spot. We told the two guys to act like adults and. “Hello?” Joyce called into the alley. “Are you okay? Should I call the poli-““HELP! HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!”Joyce dropped her umbrella as the scream startled her. She looked around for a phone booth to call the police from. There! About 20 feet away. She booked it towards the red windowed booth and started dialing. 9. 1.BAM!Joyce screamed as a hand slammed against the window of the booth. The rain streaking down the window made it hard to make out the figure the hand belonged to. Joyce’s.