Dungeon Games(2)

“You thought about applying for the Rangers, Brighton?” Watts asked, a smile on his face. “Because you have the intimidating look down.”

He flipped the folder open and was assaulted by a look book of horrors. Harris might be an ass, but he understood how to document a crime. He’d taken his time, making a panorama of the victim’s torture. Every knot was documented and then removed to show how the rope had burned into the victim’s skin, forming patterns.

“He knows what he’s doing.” Derek had practiced Shibari for years and studied with a Master. This guy knew what he was doing with ropes and knots, but he was brutal. “He understands the lifestyle, but I would say he’s not a true believer. He plays at it. He’s good with knots, but he’s a Master in the narrowest sense of the word.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Hill asked, his brows in a confused V.

Derek tried not to get his back up. He had to be patient with people who didn’t understand the lifestyle. “It means a true Master does what’s right for his submissive. This man is a monster who understands the discipline but ignores the philosophy.”

Harris grinned. “Told you I was right to bring him in.”

Hill rolled his eyes.

The door opened and a bright light blocked the silhouette of a man coming through the doorway. A large man. And then another. Two big-ass dudes were entering what had previously been a nearly empty conference room.

“Is this the right place?” The first shadow asked, though with that accent of his, it came out more like Is dis ta right place?

Liam O’Donnell. He would know that accent anywhere. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one who’d been outed as a perv, though O’Donnell worked in the private sector.

Hill made a gesture and the lights suddenly came up. Derek could see the second man. Sean Taggart. Tall, blond, built like a linebacker. It was odd that the six foot three inch former Green Beret’s nickname was Little Tag, but then his older brother dwarfed him. Ian Taggart had been Derek’s commanding officer when he’d been in the Green Berets as well. He knew Big Tag better but was well acquainted with the younger Taggart. Before he’d gotten married and become a chef, Little Tag had worked with his brother at McKay-Taggart, an elite security firm that handled work for corporations, private citizens and—if rumors were true—often did work for the CIA.

Yeah, there was a reason Derek had joined the Dallas Police Department. He’d had enough of the Agency to last a lifetime. He had the scars and the nightmares to prove it. Just thinking about the CIA made a place in his gut ache—the same place where the Taliban had shoved their knives.

“You’re in the right place, Mr. O’Donnell, Mr. Taggart.” Hill offered them seats, his eyes going back to the door. “Are you alone? I extended the invitation to the rest of your team.”

Sean Taggart huffed a little. “Yes, it was such a lovely invite. You know invitations don’t usually come with armed escorts. Alex and Eve are on their way in. They were just a bit behind us.”

Hill’s serious stare told Derek he didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. If he was going to work with McKay-Taggart, he’d better get used to it. Sarcasm was their first language.

O’Donnell sank down into the seat next to him, a frown on his face. “Is this your doing, Brighton? You know I just had a kid. I had to leave Avery and Aidan behind with the Paxon sisters because apparently you can’t do your job properly.”

“Give the guy a break,” Little Tag interjected. “You don’t understand how law enforcement works in Texas. When the Rangers call, you answer.”

“I thought the bloody Rangers were a bad baseball team,” O’Donnell grumbled.

And that was all he needed from the Irishman. “Bite my balls, asshole. Don’t talk about either Rangers that way.” He wouldn’t have anybody insult his team on his home turf. God only knew what the Irishman considered real sports. Probably soccer. “I’m not behind this. I got the same invitation, though the Ranger just came to my desk and hauled me in here.”

Hill took a step forward, moving with the ease of a predator. “I only sent out the escort because I’ve heard Taggart can be a jerk.”

Watts held out a hand. He was obviously the one who tried to smooth the way for his rougher partner. “Difficult. We’d just heard he could be difficult.”

Harris obviously had no worries. He just grinned. “Oh, I’ve heard he’s an enormous ass. I was totally looking forward to meeting him.”

Sean snorted a little. “You have no idea. Unfortunately, you picked a shitty time to decide to need his services. My brother is on assignment in England along with half our crew. I’m sitting in for him for a couple of weeks because we’re short staffed. Li here just had a kid and so did Adam and Jake. Jake pulled the short straw and had to go across the pond with the rest of them. Adam hid in the bathroom when the asshole escort showed up. I’m getting his ass back for that later. If you were trying to get to big brother, you’re going to have to call Tennessee Smith, and good fucking luck with that, man.”