AN: I'm going to warn you guys right now. This chapter features police brutality and mentions of r*pe. if this is a problem to you, avert your eyes and you can skip to Chapter 11 once I get it set up. But the r*pe will be mentioned throughout the story because it is one of the many pivotal parts of the story. So you have been warned. This chapter is how this story got a high T rating and now it's rated M because of this chapter. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Chapter 10: Traffic Stop

Dallas drove down the quiet road with Shirley, his thumb tapping against the steering wheel. The radio was blasting some old tunes that he remembered his father dance to when he was growing up. He looks over his shoulder to find his girl slumped over his shoulder, snoring softly, and thinks, maybe, just maybe, this is where he wants to be.

Before he could enjoy the bliss, he sees a police car signal for him to pull over.

He snarls. He knows he's driving the legal speed limit, he hasn't been drinking, and he hasn't any warrants that he knows of since he started working. He pulls over, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.

The police officer makes his way to the driver's side and flashes his light in Dallas' face.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Dallas asks, keeping his voice even.

"You know why I stopped you?" The officer asks. Dallas eyes his nametag and stores it in his memory banks: James McCormick.

"No, sir, I don't. You care to tell me why?"

The officer sees Shirley, his prejudice evident in his face.

"There's been…suspicious activity…around the neighborhood. I had calls saying to look out for a car that matched your description."

Dallas mentally rolls his eyes. He knows where this is going.

"What kind of…suspicious activity is you looking for, sir? All we're doing is driving to my father's home for dinner."

"I believe that information is classified. Step out the car."

Taking a deep breath, he opens the car door and stands outside, facing the officer.

"Lady, ma'am. Wake up." He flashes the flashlight into Shirley's face. She jerks awake, seeing the officer.

"Wh-what's going on? Dallas, what happened?"

"Well, miss, there's been reports of solicitation of prostitution. We're told to be on the lookout for a Negro prostitute and her white john."

"Excuse me?"

"Woah, woah, woah. Officer…you're barking up the wrong tree." Dallas interjects.

"Ma'am, step outside and put your hands against the car. We need to search you."

"You can't do that; you can't search someone without a warrant." Dallas shields Shirley.

"Step aside, punk." The officer brandishes his baton.

"You're too much of a coward to put your hands on me like a real man, pussy?" Dallas goads him.

"Dallas," Shirley interjects, "Stop. Let's just get this over with so we can go home."

"Better listen to that Negro, Dallas. She's speaking some common sense."

Dallas scowls. Shirley stands outside the car, the cold making her shiver. She braces her hands against the hood of the car. The officer stands behind her.

"Spread your legs."

Shirley pales, but otherwise complies. The officer pats her down, leaving his hands to linger on her breasts, hips, and thighs. He especially takes his sweet time fondling her naked legs, working all the way to where the legs stop. Shirley bites her lip, shuddering in breaths.

"God damn," the officer breathes out, "you got a nice ass." He grabs it without warning, making Shirley gasp.

"Get your fucking hands off her, you pervert!" Dallas charges at him, but is halted when his body is pinned to the ground by an unseen force.

"Thomas! Just in time!" the officer greets. The force seems to add more weight; Dallas feels his air supply shorten.

"I can't breathe," Dallas wheezes out.

"I can't breathe."

"Stop! Stop, please! Get off of him!" Shirley shrieks.

"Do what you're told or you can get it too." She's slammed against the hood of the car, her hair being yanked by the cop.

"You should've just stuck with your own race…nigger."

"No…no!" Dallas struggles from underneath the massive weight.

He won't die like this.

He refuses to die like this…

He feels his vision getting darker, he hears the muffled screams of Shirley…

Everything starts to fade into white noise.

All he saw was darkness.

"Dallas…Dallas…don't die on me, man! Don't you fucking die!"

He comes to, bright light making his head hurt. He adjusts to his surroundings, and finds himself in Tim's house. Tim, Curly, Angela, and Buck, crowd around him with worry in their eyes.

"You're okay," Angela whispers. She embraces him.

"You…I thought you were dead!"

"Those fucking pigs, man." Curly shakes his head, cramming a cancer stick in his mouth.

"What happened? Where's Shirley…"

"Dal…your girl…" Tim sighs, "your girl is with Darry."

"I need to see her. I need to know if she's okay!"

"Dallas, you might want to sit down for this." Angela sighs.

"When…when we got there and fought off the pigs and got you…we…we found a Colored girl… in the bushes. She…she ain't got no clothes on." Tim's voice wavers. "She was bleeding real bad. We told Darry and he told us that she was your girl. I'm so sorry, Dallas…"

"No. No! Not Shirley…anyone but Shirley…" Dallas runs his fingers through his hair, fighting the tears threatening to fall.

"Darry took her to his house to patch her up and keep her calm for a few days. We'll take you there to see her but you need to rest. You just woke up and we can't have you passing out because you're over-excited." Buck interjects.

"I have to see her. Now." Dallas' eyes harden. The gang looks at each other and with a solemn nod, obliges.

Dallas barges into the Curtis household, concern and bloodlust waging a war in his mind. He needs to see Shirley, he needs to punish those responsible, he needs…

"Dallas."

He stops in his tracks.

It's his father, eyes bloodshot and puffy, clutching a beer bottle and holding Shirley close like a daughter.

"Son. Oh, son." He says softly, another tear rolling down his face.

"What have they done to my boy?"