**Title: The Captive Negotiator** Detective Sarah Collins had thought she was onto something big when she followed the trail of evidence to this desolate place. But now, as she struggled against the ropes binding her hands, she realized she had walked right into a trap. The sound of heavy boots echoed behind her, and she turned her head just enough to see him. Jack "The Ghost" Malone, a notorious criminal with a reputation for eluding capture, stood in the doorway, his piercing blue eyes cold as ice. He had always been a step ahead, and this time, he had her. "Detective Collins," Jack purred, his voice smooth but laced with menace. "You really thought you could catch me?" Sarah swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had to stay calm, no matter how much her pride stung. "You didn't have to do this, Jack. We could have talked." Jack laughed, a hollow, guttural sound that sent a chill down her spine. "Talk? You think I want to talk? I want answers. And you're going to give them to me." Before she could respond, Jack's hand snapped forward, gripping her chin with an ironclad force. His eyes bored into hers, and for a moment, she felt the weight of his anger, his pain, his desperation. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the same cold indifference. "Where is it?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is the evidence?" Sarah shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together. "I don't know what you're talking about." Jack's grip tightened, and she winced, the pain shooting through her jaw. "Don't play games with me, detective. I know you have it. I know you've been following me, watching me, trying to bring me down. But this is over." He released her, stepping back and crossing his arms. The room was silent except for the sound of Sarah's ragged breathing. She knew she had to buy time, to find a way to turn the tables. But how? "What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins. Jack's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in thema flicker of something devious. "You," he said simply, his voice like a death sentence. "Unbutton that shirt a bit." He ordered. She then...
All cops should be white women so we could interrogate the most violent black criminal thugs like this all day. I don’t care if I get a confession but i’m going to milk these ghetto thugs like it’s my job…
Posted on 2025-04-10 11:44:49 Score: 3 (vote Up) ( Report comment )
Posted on 2025-04-10 11:46:20 Score: 2 (vote Up) ( Report comment )
Posted on 2025-04-10 14:07:06 Score: 2 (vote Up) ( Report comment )
Detective Sarah Collins had thought she was onto something big when she followed the trail of evidence to this desolate place. But now, as she struggled against the ropes binding her hands, she realized she had walked right into a trap.
The sound of heavy boots echoed behind her, and she turned her head just enough to see him. Jack "The Ghost" Malone, a notorious criminal with a reputation for eluding capture, stood in the doorway, his piercing blue eyes cold as ice. He had always been a step ahead, and this time, he had her.
"Detective Collins," Jack purred, his voice smooth but laced with menace. "You really thought you could catch me?"
Sarah swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had to stay calm, no matter how much her pride stung. "You didn't have to do this, Jack. We could have talked."
Jack laughed, a hollow, guttural sound that sent a chill down her spine. "Talk? You think I want to talk? I want answers. And you're going to give them to me."
Before she could respond, Jack's hand snapped forward, gripping her chin with an ironclad force. His eyes bored into hers, and for a moment, she felt the weight of his anger, his pain, his desperation. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the same cold indifference.
"Where is it?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is the evidence?"
Sarah shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together. "I don't know what you're talking about." Jack's grip tightened, and she winced, the pain shooting through her jaw. "Don't play games with me, detective. I know you have it. I know you've been following me, watching me, trying to bring me down. But this is over." He released her, stepping back and crossing his arms. The room was silent except for the sound of Sarah's ragged breathing. She knew she had to buy time, to find a way to turn the tables. But how? "What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins. Jack's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in thema flicker of something devious. "You," he said simply, his voice like a death sentence. "Unbutton that shirt a bit." He ordered. She then...
Posted on 2025-04-10 20:54:45 Score: 6 (vote Up) ( Report comment )
Posted on 2025-04-10 22:13:48 Score: 5 (vote Up) ( Report comment )