“He sent me a text to meet him there tonight.”
“Excellent.” The captain rose. “He’s eager to help out.”
Her contentious relationship with Stryker sent a shudder through her. She did not want to work with him.
“Questions?” asked the captain.
“Any chance you can find me a different informant?”
“No. And this resource stays between us.”
“Understood.”
The drive home was filled with a numbing silence. Since her brother had died while working an undercover case, Emerson had grown more and more frustrated at work. Though she loved being a detective, she couldn’t get past the disappointment. No matter whom she’d spoken with, no one would investigate his death. The ME had ruled it an accidental overdose, the department had expressed their condolences, and everyone had moved on. Everyone, except Emerson.
Doug didn’t do drugs.
Now, she was forced to work with Stryker. Solving a double homicide was stressful enough, but partnering with him would make an already challenging situation impossible. In this case, however, she did have it coming to her. Stryker couldn’t stand her and she didn’t blame him. The previous times she’d interacted with him had ended in a total disaster.Epic fucking fail.Back then, Emerson had been the bad guy.
She let herself into her townhouse and was greeted by her talkative feline. She cracked a smile at his two-legged dance before heading upstairs to change. After staring at her clothes for what felt like forever, she texted her best friend. “What do I wear to a kink club?”
Dots appeared, then, “I’m guessing as little as possible,” Danielle replied. “But the *real* question is why are you going to a kink club????”
She texted back, “Work.”
“Should I check with my sister?” Danielle replied.
“NM, I got this. When’s our GNO?”
“Wednesday. My sister wants to come. Okay?”
“Of course,” Emerson typed. “I love Claire-Marie. Gotta run. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck. You pack heat. Aim low.” Danielle added a laugh emoji and several heart emojis.
Emerson settled on black jeans, a white shirt, and a long sweater. She threw on a little blush and tinted lip balm, slipped into work heels, and stared at herself in the mirror. “I look like a prude.”
With her Glock secured in its holster, she patted Pima and left.
After parking in the lot, she eyed the members waiting in the long Friday-night line that wove its way around the building. In addition to wearing clothes that showed off their best assets, some wore simple black masks that framed their eyes. And there were several whose ornate masks covered most of their faces. A chill crept through her. Sex with a stranger was a fantasy only.I couldn’t do it if I couldn’t see his face.
Exiting her car, she made her way over. The distressed brick, three-story building looked like it was one hot second from being demolished. The windows had been blackened and she had to search for a club sign.This has gotta be the place.She spotted a sign beneath the lone light bulb that hung over the front door.
The Dungeon
Emerson’s skin prickled. She felt like she was about to enter a medieval torture chamber. Five minutes after standing in a line that didn’t budge, she texted Stryker. “Should I flash my badge so I get jumped to the front?”
No dots appeared.
Seconds later, a humongous man with arms bigger than her legs walked over. “Detective Easton?”
“Did my clothing give it away?” She bit back a smile.
He chuffed out a hearty laugh. “I’m Stryker’s line manager, Tank.” He showed her his phone. Stryker had sent him a picture of her standing in line.
The bouncer brought her inside. The high-tech music reverberated in her chest and the low-lit lighting created an intimate setting. Clubbers stood in small groups or twosomes talking. Some were masked, but the majority weren’t. As Tank led her around the dance floor, she eyed the couples pressed together, swaying and grinding to the beat. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time and a touch of envy ran through her. Sometimes, she wanted to escape reality doing something other than watching a movie with her cat. She wanted a man’s hard body on her while his large hands caressed her skin. Her insides tightened at the sexy thought.
An oversized rectangular bar stood toward the back of the room with a large area nearby for members to mingle. On the other side were a mix of tables and horseshoe-shaped booths that afforded some privacy.
