EXTRACT FOR
The Stop Sign on Botsford Road
(Cheyenne Wilson)

He closed his ticket book and tapped the cover with his pen.



"I'll tell you what son. You got a clean record and I like you. I'm willing to bet you put a lot of work and money into that car of yours. I got one just like it." He paused and his wrinkled eyes narrowed. "I'm gonna give you one chance to keep your car. You interested?"



I swallowed hard. Was this another trap?



"Yes," I said.



He smiled a little bit. He flipped open the ticket book and tapped the pen on the long ticket that he had filled out.



"I'm willing to do something for you. I'll tear up this ticket. You can take that car home and park it nice and safe in your garage. Hell, I don't even care what you do with the girl."



He tore the ticket out of the book and put it on the dashboard. His hand brushed the inside of his thigh. I glanced down. There wasn't much light in the car, but I could see his fingers rubbing a long, thick ridge down the leg of his pants.



"All you got to do is ..."



"What? Are you crazy?" I shouted, and backed away until the door stopped me.



He chuckled. "I'm pretty serious son. You got a pretty mouth.  I bet you really know how to take care of a man with that mouth."