BAMF Part 1

EP: Pariah

Hutch tapped the door open with his toe and the whole world seemed to explode in splinters of wood. And then the phone rang. I tore the handset from its cradle.

"If you followed your same pattern, Hutchinson went high and you went low. And now you're partner is dead." Prudholm's voice through the phone shook me more than the force of the gun blast.

The murders of Dan Tinker and Jack Forrest were bad enough. Two men targeted for the simple reason that they wore a uniform as a way to punish me. Losing Hutch was unthinkable. I would do anything to keep that from happening.

"Your time is almost up, hero. Next time you hear from me one cop is gonna be minus a family." The man was crazy to the core.

"Where's the meet?" Hutch asks and I know he'd follow me to hell and back. I don't plan on taking him along. No way. How can I tell him it's not the carload of kids or even someone's granny I'm thinking of? It's Hutch.

Well, Prudholm can just get ready because I'm coming after him. Nothing's gonna stop me. He doesn't hold a monopoly on crazy.

BMAF Part 2

EP: Gillian

"We both know how sweet it is."

I snapped on the projector and all that gorgeous flesh was right there in front of us, in flickering color and larger than life. Watching was almost as good as being there. Hutchinson huddled on the floor and quivered like a baby. Some men are so stupid when it comes to women. They get led by their balls instead of their brains. Mama had set me straight from my first stiffy. She taught me to keep them in line; remind them who's boss.

"You okay?" I heard his partner call out.

Then, "Yeah." Hutchinson's tongue was back in his mouth.

With one pop the projector winked out and the image vanished. Christ, what a shot.

A few more moves and they had me cornered on the second floor.

Hutchinson was at the bottom of the stairs, starting to climb.

I got him all wrong. He was no helpless baby. More like some goddamn avenging angel. His eyes were on fire and he looked like he could tear me apart. Who knew if his partner could stop him, or even if he wanted to. Warm piss trickled down my pant leg. Fuck. Where was Mama now?

BAMF Part 3

EP: Survival

She'd been with so many men, what does one more matter? One more black eye, one more bruised rib. Sometimes it seemed like her entire body was one big, open wound, right down to her soul.

"Are you Carla?" The man asks.

"Put your money on the table." She doesn't even look up. Just stares out at the flashing neon and takes another drag of her smoke.

Then he lays out a badge instead of bills.

Shit. She jerks away but doubts she even has the energy to make the stairs.

"I'm not here to bust you. I'm just looking for Roy Slater."

She clutches at the thin robe as if it might protect her. She'd rather go to jail than suffer another beating from that bastard. She shakes her head but the man leans into her space. Deliberately, inevitably. She's a moth mesmerized by his flame.

"Someone very very very close to me might be dead because of him. But I gotta get to him to find out."

Carla doesn't know whether she's frozen or on fire. She somehow understands he won't hurt her but realizes this is one bad ass mother fucker like Roy Slater has never seen.

BAMF Part 4

EP: Sweet Revenge

Who the fuck does Gunther think he's messing with?

I've saved my partner from Joey's fast bullet, the professor's timed poison, and even Simon's brain-washed goons. Did he think I was going to let a couple of hired thugs take Starsky down with some cheap shots from a stolen police cruiser? No way.

I don't care how big he was. I don't care if it's God's number he has on speed dial.

As if God had a telephone. Fuck that. Hutchinson, maybe you really are losing it. That's what everyone else thinks, anyway. That's why Dobey set up camp at the hospital. That's why Huggy followed me down the elevator, car keys jingling.

They can hound me all they want. As long as they don't try to stop me. In this I'm unstoppable.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Gunter's office is a fortress of leather and wood. His right-hand man is slumped in a chair. A bloody teacup dangles from his hand, but there's an arrest warrant in mine. I slap it on his desk.

"You tried to kill my partner how many times." I stare at him point blank. I haven't lost it after all. And Gunther's not taking it from me.

Not today.