by Laura Kaye
“I read the statements, but I wanted you to look me in the eye when you recounted the story in your own words,” Breslin said.
Damn, this guy was good. “And?”
“And…” The commissioner tilted his head, assessing him. “You’re not telling me everything, but you don’t strike me as dirty, either.”
“I’m not dirty. And being lumped in with the pieces of shit responsible for Miguel’s death is bullshit,” Kyler said, meeting and holding his superior’s observant gaze and reining in his mouth before it ran away with his career. Kyler was coming down on the side of Breslin being the real deal, and he wanted to earn the man’s respect. And get out from behind that fucking desk.
Commissioner Breslin nodded. “Hang in there, Detective. I know this investigation is a burr on your balls, but we’re moving as quickly as we can. I promise you that. And our methods will become clear soon enough.”
Whatever that meant. But as he had no choice but to wait for the investigation to end, there was really only one thing for him to say. “Understood, sir.”
“Good. Then we’re done here, Detective. But my door is always open. Don’t hesitate to use it.” His boss gave him a pointed look, and Kyler nodded. “Dismissed.”
Back at his desk again, Kyler forced himself to plow through some of the paperwork that buried the worn surface. The more he kept himself busy, the faster time would pass. But his mood was at least a little better than it had been earlier in the day. Because the more Kyler thought about it, the more positive his impressions of his conversation with the commissioner became. Without question, Breslin wasn’t against him. And that counted for more than a little.
So Kyler would just keep his nose to the grindstone and make sure it stayed that way.
Chapter 5
The gallery opening was going even better than Mia had hoped. The place was packed. Buyers were opening their checkbooks. The four spotlighted artists were already pulling her aside to tell her how pleased they were. The arts editor from the city paper was here doing a story on the gallery. And Mia was currently sipping a glass of champagne that her boss, the gallery owner, had brought to her moments before with the words, “I knew you were the right person for this job.”
Mia was on cloud nine.
“Girl, this is amazing,” Dani said. She and a couple friends from DC had come up for the show, and Mia appreciated the support and the bodies. Nothing worse than an empty gallery on opening night. Not, it turned out, that she’d needed to worry.
“It really is, isn’t it?” Mia said, a little stunned herself.
“Don’t act so surprised. You made all this happen.” Dani held up her glass and they clinked.
“I’m so glad you’re here to share this with me,” Mia said, squeezing her friend’s hand. Dani was tall and athletic, with wavy, shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The light and snarky to Mia’s dark and more serious. They’d been fast friends from almost the moment they’d met in college.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. You know this.” Dani peered around them, then leaned in close. “So, when are you going back to see the blue-eyed orgasm machine?”
Mia nearly spit out her champagne. This is what spilling all the details got her. “Oh, my God, sshh,” she whispered, unable to hold back from laughing. “I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow. Though maybe I shouldn’t, because he said he wasn’t looking for a relationship.”
“Dude, isn’t that what all guys say?” Dani arched her eyebrow. The woman was a lawyer in a high-powered law firm and had been the managing editor of her law review, and she still said “dude” all the time. Mia loved it.
Shrugging, Mia managed to swallow the bubbly this time. “Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Isn’t it win-win either way? You go and he plays again and you die of”—Dani’s voice dropped to a whisper—“orgasmic bliss. Or you go and he doesn’t want to play and you find someone else who’s awesome? You said this club had more of the kind of men you like there than anywhere else you’d ever played, right?”
Mia nodded, peering around to make sure they weren’t being overheard.
“I say you go,” Dani said as if that settled it.
Mia was just about to respond when she spotted her father making his way through the crowd. She grinned. “My dad’s here.”
“There’s my babydoll,” he said when he made his way to her. He looked dashing in a dark blue pinstriped suit. They hugged.
“Hi, Daddy. I’m so glad you could come,” she said. “You remember Dani.”
“Of course,” Dad said, giving Dani a quick hug. “Good to see you again, Dani.”
“You, too. How’s the new job?” Dani asked.
Her father shook his head and laughed. “Let’s just say it’s a challenge.” He put his arm around Mia’s shoulders. “But I’d say your job is going pretty damn good. Look at this turnout, Mia.”
“I know. It’s kinda crazy,” she said, beaming under her dad’s praise. He wasn’t a man who gave compliments freely. You had to earn his respect, but once you had it, he was your fiercest ally and advocate. He’d always been both, for her, even after their parents divorced when she was twelve.
Mia still remembered overhearing the conversation that had been the beginning of their end. Her mother had told him she’d fallen out of love with him. And it’d broken Mia’s heart on her dad’s behalf. So she’d always made a special effort to stay in touch with him and visit him, even when her mother remarried. Her mom’s husband was an amazing man, too, but her dad was her dad.
“It’s not crazy,” Dad said. “It’s hard work paying off. I’m proud of you.”
The rest of the night passed in a happy blur of introductions and networking and celebrating. It was the best, most fulfilling night of her professional life, and even though this show would be up for four weeks, the success of the night had her mind racing on all kinds of new ideas and plans for other events and shows.
Finally, everyone was gone, catering had cleaned up and left, and only Mia, her boss, Gregory Laponte, and Dani and her friends from DC remained.
“Go, get out of here,” Gregory said, taking off his suit coat and rolling up his sleeves. A man of about sixty with a flare for fashion and an incredible eye for art, Gregory had made a name for himself as a philanthropist and a patron of the arts. This gallery was another of his pet projects—wanting to give up-and-coming artists in all kinds of media an opportunity to have their work seen and purchased by his impressive and extensive circle of friends. “You deserve a celebratory drink with your friends. I’ll lock up.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind taking care of everything,” Mia said.
“I insist, sweetheart. You made me look mahvelous tonight. Go celebrate.” He winked.
“Okay. See you soon,” she said. He only came to the gallery a few times a week, so she didn’t see him every day.
A few minutes later, she and the other girls spilled out onto the street and caught a cab to a fun wine bar down by the Inner Harbor. Mia was perfectly content hanging out and getting to know Dani’s friends, but after just one drink, Dani said they should probably head out.
“Already?” Mia asked.
Her bestie gave her a pointed look, one that meant she was making it so that Mia was free to pursue other activities before the night was over. “Yeah. It’s been a long day for you, and I need to bill some hours tomorrow anyway. Which means I should get home.”
Mia said good-bye to everyone, and then she hugged Dani. “Thank you again, for everything.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. I hope your night only gets better from here.” Dani waggled her eyebrows.
Laughing, Mia waved as they caught a cab back to where they’d parked.
I’m not ready for the celebrating to be over, Mia thought. So she decided to take the gift that Dani had given her and run with it. She wasn’t wearing play clothes, but the golden sheath cocktail dress she had on with the tall silver heels and the silver-and-gold je
welry was definitely upscale enough for Blasphemy. And anyway, she was hoping she wouldn’t be wearing clothes for very long.
Annnd that was motivation enough to hail a cab of her own. Now she just hoped that Master Kyler was there, and that he was interested in playing, too.
* * * *
Kyler walked into Hard Ink Tattoo, ready for some new ink and to see some old friends. He hadn’t known most of these guys for more than a few months, but after everything they’d been through together, it felt much longer. Sometimes it was just like that.
“Kyler Vance, how the hell are you?” Nick Rixey said, coming around the counter in the shop’s reception area. Nick was former Army Special Forces, and in his build and the way he moved, you could still tell. Images of tattoo designs and finished ink covered the walls, and photo albums sat on a coffee table in front of an ugly old Naugahyde couch.
“Good, Nick. How’s married life treating you?” Kyler asked.
Nick smiled, that single expression answering the question, and it reminded Kyler a whole helluva lot of how Isaac had looked the other night while texting with Willow. “I got no complaints,” Nick said, running a hand through his dark hair, the smile extending to his odd, pale green eyes. “Jeremy’s finishing up with his client, but come on back. Everyone’s hanging in the lounge.”
Down a narrow hall, they passed a series of tattoo rooms on either side, and then the space opened up into a big square lounge. Tables filled the center, and a grouping of couches took up one corner. On the back wall, a large graffiti-like mural read, “Bleed with me, and you’ll forever be my brother.” It struck a chord with Kyler every time he saw it. He had bled with these guys. It bonded you in ways not everyone could understand.
A big chorus of greetings rang out when everyone saw him, and soon Kyler was shaking the men’s hands and hugging all the women. After their investigations were finally resolved back in May, Nick and his former teammates had agreed to form a security consulting company, and now they all lived here and worked together—Shane McCallan, the team’s medic, Edward “Easy” Cantrell, an explosives specialist, Derek “Marz” DiMarzio, a genius in all things computer, and Beckett Murda, a man who could build or improve pretty much any gadget. Jeremy’s boyfriend, Charlie Merritt, was also there, the guy as brilliant as Marz on the computer. Together, they were a formidable team, as their success against truly stunning odds attested.
“We were wondering when we were gonna get to see you again,” Becca Rixey said, her arm looped through Nick’s. She was girl-next-door pretty and an ER nurse who’d proven fantastic in a crisis. And these guys had had more than a few. “I’m so glad you came over.”
“Me, too,” Kyler said.
“How’s your arm doing?” Kat asked. Nick’s sister had the trademark Rixey look, with her chocolate-brown hair and green eyes, but she was much shorter than either of her brothers. And since she’d been shot at the cemetery, too—in the chest, Kyler didn’t mind the question coming from her.
“I’m almost a hundred percent again. How about you? You look great,” Kyler said, standing in the midst of this big circle of friends. He really did need to come hang more often. Especially while all this bullshit with the IA investigation was going on. Being in his head didn’t do him any good.
“I feel great, actually. Really good.” She grinned up at Beckett, standing right behind her, and the softness in his expression when he looked at her was striking given what a hardass he normally was.
“Some might even say she was glowing,” Marz said dramatically as he made a funny face and nodded toward her.
Kyler looked between Kat and Beckett’s best friend. “Wait, are you pregnant?” he asked Kat.
“Geez, D. You’d think you were the father,” Shane said, humor bringing out the guy’s southern accent. Everyone laughed.
“What? I’m the proud uncle. I can’t help it,” Marz said, holding out his hands.
“Well, damn. Congratulations to you both.” Kyler shook Beckett’s hand and hugged Kat again. And it struck him—if they hadn’t been successful at uncovering the conspiracy against the team, Kat and Beckett wouldn’t have this incredible thing happening right now, this little life they’d made together. And that…that made everything Kyler had been going through these past couple of months suddenly feel even more worthwhile than he’d thought. Damn. Life was funny sometimes.
“Dude, I’m ready for you,” Jeremy said, coming up to join the circle. Kyler shook his tattooed hand.
“Yeah? I’m just getting caught up on all the good news out here,” Kyler said, taking Jeremy in. The guy had already looked much better at Becca and Nick’s wedding than he had earlier in the summer, but now you’d almost never know that a few months ago he’d had brain surgery. Now he was just the Jeremy that Kyler had first met—covered in tattoos, piercings in his face, and always a smile, a joke, or a kind word to share. Kyler’s gaze dropped to Jeremy’s T-shirt, which read, I would do me. Grinning, Kyler pointed. “Nice one.”
“Right?” Jeremy said, winking. His T-shirt collection was apparently famous. Or infamous. Kyler wasn’t sure which.
“Well, since numb-nuts shared my good news, I might as well share that he and Emilie are engaged,” Beckett said, smirking at Marz.
But Marz just looked proud, as in grinning-like-an-idiot proud. The guy put his arm around Emilie Garza, the woman whose brother had been buried at the cemetery that day. “She agreed to marry me and all my legs. So that makes her a keeper in my book,” he said. Another round of laughter, and Kyler had to respect him for making peace the way he had with the amputation he’d suffered in the ambush that had ended their military careers.
“Clearly, I can’t stay away so long next time,” Kyler said as he offered more congratulations. “I need to come bask in all your good news.”
“And there will be more to come. Just you wait,” Becca said, smiling up at Nick.
Kyler almost hated to leave the group, but he also knew that Jeremy was working past closing time, and he didn’t want to hold the man up anymore than he was already doing. In Jer’s tattoo room, Kyler took a seat and explained what he wanted. Within a few minutes, Jeremy had drawn it on a sheet of tracing paper.
“That’s it,” Kyler said, turning to sit backward on the chair so Jeremy could get to his shoulder. “Exactly. Do it.”
For the next ninety minutes, Jeremy worked on him, inking a tribal cross with pointed ends onto the back of his right shoulder. The design featured a thick black outline the whole way around, and a dark blue line that filled the center. It was for Miguel. Jeremy had added some tribal blades behind the cross, and Kyler already knew it was going to be a piece he would cherish.
“All done,” Jeremy finally said. “Take a look.”
Grasping a hand mirror, Kyler stepped to the wall mirror and examined the new ink on his shoulder. “Well fucking done, Jeremy. For real.” The piece was about six inches tall, the dark colors bold against his skin.
“Glad you like. Let me bandage you up and you’ll be good to go.”
Kyler dropped back in the chair so Jer could finish. “So, do you have good news to share, too?”
“Shop’s open again, which is awesome. The other half of the building has a finished shell, which is ahead of schedule. And I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world. That might be as much good as I can take at one time,” he said, chuckling.
“That’s a lot,” Kyler said. “Good for you.” Kyler meant it, too. Even though all these happy couples at Hard Ink emphasized his solitude a whole helluva lot, didn’t they?
When it was time, Jeremy refused to take his money. “Your money’s no good here, Vance. But I’m your guy. Any time. Any ink you want. Come to me.” Jer held out his hand.
“I’ll find another way to repay you,” Kyler said. “But you can believe I’ll be back for more work.”
“Good. You better be,” Jeremy said, his tongue flicking at the piercing on his lip.
Kyler said his good-byes to the
last members of the group still hanging out in the lounge, and then he was back out into the night. It was late—after eleven o’clock—but he wasn’t ready to go home. Seeing his friends had made him feel energized, and getting the tattoo had adrenaline flowing through his system.
He wanted to go to Blasphemy. But he really didn’t want to see Mia. Not tonight. Tonight, he didn’t want a reminder of something else he couldn’t have. So he called the control room at the club.
“Yo, Kyler. What can I do for you?” Zeke asked. They rotated the jobs they did around the club.
“Hey, Z. A new submissive named Mia joined on Wednesday night. Any idea if she’s checked in tonight?” Kyler asked.
“Hold on,” Zeke said. Then, “No. I don’t see anyone by that name.”
The relief Kyler expected didn’t come. Instead, there was just an odd resignation. “Good deal. Thanks, man.” They hung up.
But at least it meant that he was in the clear to go there and not break his rules. Because he was in the mood to play.
Chapter 6
Mia had only been at Blasphemy for ten minutes, but she already knew that Kyler wasn’t there. First she’d looked, and then she’d just come out and asked the dark-blond-haired man named Master Leo who was bartending tonight. For a moment, she’d been struck by the fact that the Dom had two different-colored eyes—one blue, the other green. But then he said that it wasn’t Master Kyler’s night to work, apparently, and he hadn’t come in to hang out as he apparently had the other night.
She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. Did she potentially want to play with someone else? Did she want to wait? Or did she want to go home?
Her belly squeezed at that last one. She didn’t want to go home. This was her big night. She wanted to celebrate somehow. Besides, Master Kyler had been explicit that he wasn’t interested in a relationship, so maybe he wouldn’t want to play with her again anyway. Mia sighed. Maybe she’d just have a look around.