In Love With A Dangerous Man

By Vivian Blue

It’s not easy being in charge of other people’s lives, and when you’re the type of person that has loose morals and street values, it makes the job that much more exciting but stressful. Roberta ‘Roby’ Charles is living her best life, being an unscrupulous parole officer for the State of Missouri. She’s an alcoholic that likes to use her authority to get recreational drugs and sex from the clients that she serves, and she’s been able to get away with it until a client reports Roby to her supervisor. Now she’s having to clean up her act or at least prove that the client was lying, but that might not be so easy with a new client trying to get into her pants.
 Calhoun Washington is a recent parolee that has a bounty on his head and three strikes against him. He has plans to get his share of a lick that he’d hit right before he went back to prison and get out of town before someone takes his life. To make matters worse, Calhoun has to report to his parole officer, Roberta Charles, but instead of trying to work his court ordered plan, he’s trying to work what’s in between her legs, and that isn’t so easy to do. She’s fighting for her own survival and isn’t interested in his advances, and there’s another parolee in her case load that is making it difficult for him to even try.
 Thaddeus Brown is on parole for money laundering and is another parolee in Roberta Charles’s case load. He has some mental health issues going on and takes a liking to Roby because she genuinely seems to care about his well-being. There’s an obvious attraction between the two of them that neither one of them can deny, and when Thad gets off of parole, he has plans on claiming Roby for himself. However, there are a lot of secrets about Thad’s life that Roby doesn’t know, and it might push them further apart instead of bringing them together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Royalty Publishing House
• Release date: Apr 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781648407703

Book preview

1

What’s taking this bitch so long? Calhoun thought, looking at his watch.

He was sitting in the reception area of the probation and parole office in downtown St. Louis, anticipating his first meeting with his parole officer. He had gotten released from the state penitentiary yesterday but had to report to his parole office within twenty-four hours, or a warrant would be issued for his arrest. Calhoun had been previously paroled before but was sent back on a violation where he had to go back to prison and serve three more years of his sentence. He had two years to walk down on a drug possession charge, but if he got into any more trouble, he would have to do the rest of his time behind bars.

Calhoun Washington was a small-time drug dealer and petty thief that was known around the streets for robbing dope houses. He’d been getting in trouble since the age of twelve years old and had everything on his rap sheet from stealing cars, robbery, assaults, and attempted murder, but somehow, those charges were dropped when the witnesses couldn’t be located. He was a rotten bastard at a very early age. His mother always made excuses for his behavior, and she contributed it to the fact that his father died when he was a little boy. She felt that the death of Calhoun’s father had traumatic effects that caused him to act out aggressively toward others. He was always getting suspended from school for fighting, and he wasn’t a model student at all. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when he went away to prison, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he went back sooner than later.

Calhoun looked at his watch and sighed because he had a lunch meeting at noon. It was already 11:45 a.m., and his parole officer still hadn’t called him, which appeared like she wasn’t coming any time soon. His time was precious, considering he’d been gone for some years. There were places he had to go and people to see in order to collect what was due to him. Calhoun looked down at this watch, and fifteen more minutes had passed. He was about to get up and leave when he heard a woman’s voice call his name.

Calhoun Washington! Calhoun Washington!

It’s about damn time, Calhoun said, getting up from his seat.

A beautiful, dark-skinned woman with ample curves stepped out in plain sight with a case file in her hand.

Excuse me, Roby said, staring at Calhoun. Did you say something?

Yeah, I said something, he replied. Why did it take you so long to come get me?

Mr. Washington, you’re not allowed to ask me questions like that. I can make you wait as long as I like, okay? So we’ll leave all the questions up to me, Roby said, turning to walk away.

Calhoun looked at the tightly fitted skirt that hugged all of Roby’s curves and smiled. Follow me to my office, Mr. Washington.

With an ass like that, I’ll follow you anywhere, Calhoun mumbled under his breath.

Roby heard what he said but chose to ignore his comment. She was used to her clients trying to hit on her, and the new ones were always the worst. She walked into her office and waited for Calhoun to come through the door. Once he made his way inside, she shut it behind them and went over to her desk.

My name is Roberta Charles, and I have been assigned to be your parole officer. I’ve read over your file, and it seems like you’re a habitual fuck up.

Wait a minute… What? Calhoun uttered.

You heard me, Roby replied, giving him a onceover. Your ass has been getting in trouble since you were a juvenile. I have your rap sheet sitting in front of me. You’re a good-looking guy. Why haven’t you found a decent woman and tried to change your life?

Calhoun’s caramel complexioned with light-brown eyes made him visually stimulating to look at. Roby noticed his broad features and full lips, two features that she loved on a man. His thick, curly hair was cut into a box, and his mustache and goatee were trimmed nicely. It was evident that he cared about his appearance, and Roby found him pleasant to look at. He was definitely handsome and the type of man Roby would fuck, but she had to be cautious with her actions. She was known around the office as the transfer queen because people often accused her of fucking her clients. No one was ever able to confirm whether or not she’d had sex with them, but Roby definitely provided the gossip around the office. The one thing about this cunning and charismatic parole officer was she always stayed way ahead of the game. Whenever it seemed like her boss was closing in on her, Roby would have the client’s case transferred to a different PO, and the client would never confirm that anything happened.

You know you’re sexy as hell, Calhoun said, licking his lips. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed the warm, wet feel of some pussy, and I would love to run up in you.

Roby looked up from her desk and smiled warmly at Calhoun. This was the usual for her, so why would this one be any different? You got a man?

Calhoun, Roby said, looking down at his file then back up at him. It looks like you’re not a good judge of character, and I’m just wondering how long it will be before you fuck up again.

If you give me some pussy, I promise I won’t mess up, Calhoun replied, smiling.

Let’s get something straight. You need to keep your comments to yourself. I’m not interested in shit you have to offer, and my lack of interest should be obvious, considering I haven’t responded to any of your advancements, Roby replied dryly. It’s obvious you’re not good at making choices, and it would be a mistake on my part to fuck around with a habitual fuck up like you.

Damn, ma! You shoot straight from the hip, Calhoun said, licking his lips. But I think if you give me a chance, I can make you change your mind.

I think not, Roby said, turning the page of his file. I guess since you got off on murder when you were younger, you think your ass is slick.

It was self-defense, Calhoun replied, rolling his eyes. And I don’t appreciate how you’re talking to me. How much longer do I have to be up in here?

As long as I want to keep your ass, Roby replied smugly.

Calhoun glared at Roby, and she could tell that he was feeling some type of way. She really didn’t care if he was pissed off by the way she was talking to him. His feelings weren’t important as far as she was concerned. The only thing she was interested in was whether or not his ass was going to stay out of jail.

You seem like a real bitch, Calhoun mentioned. I hope we ain’t goin’ to have any problems. I’m known around town, and I would hate for something to happen to you on the strength that you’re trying to fuck me over.

He adjusted himself in the chair and sat up straight so Roby could see his stature. Calhoun was about five feet eleven inches with broad shoulders and bit of belly, but it was nothing that was intimidating to Roby. She found his behavior rather amusing and decided to play around with him a bit.

Are you threating me, Mr. Washington? Roby asked, lifting an eyebrow. Because I don’t take idle to threats. I have this one police officer friend that I fuck on occasion, and he’ll make it his business to make your life miserable if I tell him that you’ve threatened me. Or better yet, my father and grandfather are known in the streets too. You may be familiar with them, but I’m not going to name drop, because you may shit your pants if I tell you. How about I tell them that you threatened me, and I promise you won’t make it through the rest of the day.

Calhoun felt stupid for making the comment after Roby’s response. He used to threaten his last parole officer, and it seemed to scare her enough to get her off his back. Roby got up from her seat and walked around to the front of her desk. She leaned up against it and crossed one of her legs in front of the other. How about we try something, Mr. Washington, to break the tension between us. Pull your dick out, she ordered.

What? Calhoun asked, confused. You’re playing, right?

Nope! Pull out your dick right now, she replied, crossing her arms in front of her body defensively.

A smirk came across Calhoun’s face while he adjusted himself in the chair. You seemed so eager earlier to be all up in my guts, so why are you being so shy now?

I feel like you’re trying to set me up or something, Calhoun said, sucking his teeth.

I bet your dick is little. That’s why you won’t show it to me, Roby replied, lifting up off her desk. I’m not the one to be played with, Mr. Washington. Either you’re going to do what is asked of you by the courts, or your ass is going back to jail—point, blank, period.

My dick ain’t little, Calhoun replied defensively. If I take this muthafucka out, you’ll fall straight to your knees, trying to put it in your mouth.

You sound so confident, but, yet, and still, you haven’t whipped that sucker out, Roby said coyly. I bet you’re all talk and no action.

She sat back down in her chair and leaned back in it, studying Calhoun’s face. She couldn’t really read his expression, but at this point, it didn’t matter. The only thing she wanted from him was to complete his checklist of court ordered services and walk his time down without getting into any trouble.

Is there anything else you need from me? Calhoun asked, looking at his watch.

Do you have some place to be, Mr. Washington? I notice you keep checking your watch, Roby pointed out.

As a matter of fact, I do, so if you could speed this little meeting up, I can get up out of here to do what I gotta do.

Okay, Mr. Washington, let’s cut to the chase, Roby replied, looking down at the file. You need to get your GED… Why didn’t you do this while you were incarcerated? It would have been much easier for you.

I had other pressing things going on, like staying alive, Calhoun replied.

Roby looked at him unsympathetically and continued to shuffle through the papers.

You will report here to see me once a week. You are required to drop upon request and will go to a drug treatment program of your choosing. Also, you will take an anger management class that is offered through our department. You are required to gain and maintain employment while on parole, and you will have to show check stubs each time we meet. Do you have any questions?

Naw, Calhoun replied. Are we done?

Yes, Mr. Washington, we’re done, Roby replied pleasantly. Now, you have a good day.

2

Calhoun walked over to his mother’s car and got inside. He was pissed off at the bitch they’d assigned him to as a parole officer, and he didn’t think they were going to get along at all. She was dumb as hell if she thought for a second that he was going to do all of the shit that she read off. The only thing Calhoun was basically concerned with was finding his partner to get his cut of the money owed to him so that he could get the fuck out of town.

Calhoun had hit a big lick before he got caught up and sent back to jail. He and his friend Rock had hit a dope house in the projects that belonged to this big-time, old-head drug dealer named Rob Bass. Calhoun had been watching one of his runners for three months straight to learn his routine in order to jump down on him. They had someone on the inside to tell them when the drop was going to be worth their while, and both men seized the opportunity when it was time.

The only problem was Calhoun got locked up the day after the lick, and Rock had to stash the money and drugs until Calhoun was released. He managed to keep his release under wraps without too many people knowing that he was getting out of prison. The first place he went to upon release was to his mother’s house on Aldine Avenue to put his plan of action together. She had a car that he could use as a means of transportation, and his mother always had a little cash stashed away for him for whenever he got released from prison. Another person who always had his back was his dope fiend baby mama, and he needed to go see her in order to find out the gossip in the streets.

Calhoun pulled up in front of Christy’s apartment on Billups Avenue. She lived in an apartment complex called The Ville Apartments, and it was right across the street from Sumner High School. She had been staying in the apartment for two years, and her place was known as the flop house where people gathered to get high. Calhoun walked up to the door and rang the bell. He checked the surroundings while waiting anxiously for her to answer because the last thing he needed was for someone to spot him.

Who is it! Christy yelled.

Calhoun didn’t answer and rang the bell again. Who is it? she asked again, swinging the door open.

Hey, baby mama, Calhoun said, smiling.

Christy stared at him as if she’d seen a ghost.

When did you get out? she asked, ushering him inside.

Calhoun walked in and looked around at the pathetic sight. The apartment was clean, but there wasn’t really any furniture in the front room. There was a dingy couch against one of the walls with the television sitting on a couple of milk crates across from it. He couldn’t understand why her house looked like this, because he had completely furnished her house before he left for prison.

Where’s my son? Calhoun questioned, sitting down.

He’s at daycare, Christy replied, looking uneasy. You should have told me you were getting out.

Christy had lil’ Calhoun two weeks after his father got locked up. He was born drug exposed and had to stay in the hospital for a month after his birth. Christy wrote and sent pictures to Calhoun but never told him that she’d almost lost their son to the system. She knew that Calhoun would have beat her to death if he’d known she was using while she was carrying his child. He won’t be home for another four hours. You can come back to see him if you want too, but I’m getting ready for work right now.

Christy seemed a bit jumpy, and Calhoun picked up on it. He couldn’t understand why she was acting this way, but this was the usual behavior of a drug addict.

Bitch, why you so jumpy? Calhoun asked. Is there something you’re not telling me?

Well, Calhoun… I uhhhh… I got a boyfriend now, and I don’t know how he’s going to react to you being here.

Is he the reason why you jumped out the car on me last year? Calhoun questioned. You know I could give a fuck less about another nigga. Who is he?

His name is Ray, but they call him Pooh, and he’s from around the neighborhood. He takes good care of me and lil’ C, so I don’t want to fuck nothing up between us, Christy explained.

Now, you know I don’t give a fuck about no nigga, don’t you? I’ll fuck the both of y’all up and take my son with me, Calhoun threatened.

You don’t have to do all of that, Christy replied defensively. I was just saying.

You ain’t got to say shit! Calhoun replied irritably. Besides, I don’t plan on being here that long. I want you to tell me what’s been going on out in the streets.

Calhoun tapped on the couch next to him for Christy to come sit down. She looked at him nervously because she knew what that meant. It was obvious that Calhoun didn’t stop by merely to talk, and she hoped that Pooh didn’t walk through the door, because it would cause all kinds of problems. Why you taking so long to sit down? Come the fuck over here! Calhoun demanded.

Damn… here I come, nigga! Christy replied, annoyed. I was about to grab my cigarettes, if you don’t mind.

I do mind, so hurry the fuck up!

Christy walked over to crates where the television sat and grabbed her cigarettes off of it. She took one of them out of the pack, picked up the lighter, and fired it up. She took a long, hard drag off of it and blew the smoke out slowly as she made her way over to him.

You know that once word gets out that you’re free, a lot of people will be looking for you, Christy mentioned.

Yeah, I know, so you better keep your mouth closed and don’t tell anybody, Calhoun replied. I don’t plan on being in St. Louis too much longer. I have some money coming to me, and I plan on getting it and leaving town.

Are you talking about the money from that lick you hit? Christy asked nosily. You know there’s a hit out on your life, don’t you?

So I heard, Calhoun replied. A nigga tried to get at me while I was locked up, but I managed to dodge that situation by getting protection. It didn’t come cheap, but I made shit happen.

You were stupid ass fuck to hit one of Rob Bass’ people. Did you know that he killed two of his workers behind that shit? I heard he tortured them into confessing who done it, and that’s when the hit went out for you and Rock.

Did you run your loose ass mouth? Calhoun asked.

I didn’t have shit to say to nobody, Christy uttered. Rob Bass came to see me personally, and I told him that I hadn’t seen you in months. He had one of his boys come stay with me for a few days to make sure that I wasn’t lying.

All I know is that your ass better not tell him shit if he comes around asking questions, Calhoun said sternly. I’m going to need for you to be my eyes and ears from here on out, Christy. I’ll throw you a few dollars and make sure that lil’ Calhoun don’t want for shit.

We good over here, Christy insisted. Pooh is taking good care of us, and I don’t want to get tied up in your bullshit. Rob Bass would kill both me and our son if he knew that I was holding out on him.

Bitch! What the fuck will you do if I kill your ass right now? Calhoun questioned. And how the fuck is that nigga taking good care of y’all, and you barely got any furniture? The television is on fucking milk crates, and this couch is damn near on its last leg!

We about to get some new furniture in a minute, Christy replied, feeling offended. "Ray is waiting on his disability to get approved, and he’s going to use the backpay to buy us all new