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Before I hit send, the girl returns. “These are the two.” I look up and my heart jolts. That eroding ground beneath me completely gives way, sucking me under and burying me faster than quicksand.
“Detectives, this is the owner’s brother, Colton Reed.” She smiles sweetly. “I’ll just leave you to it, then.”
I don’t even see her leave the room. I don’t hear anything that comes out of Carson’s mouth. The whole world dissolves into the background, leaving just Colton and me. I thought that if I gave myself enough time away, that my feelings for him would lesson. That the complete and utter thrall he has over me would decrease by some minute fraction. Just enough so I could think rationally when I next saw him.
This is not the case. He’s dressed for the club, wearing his signature black V-neck that highlights the leanly defined muscles of his arms and chest, and dark denim jeans. A serious scowl mars the normally smooth skin between his dark eyebrows, and his glacier blue gaze is focused hard on me.
Though it hasn’t been spoken, the word betrayal suffocates the small span of air between us.
“Mr. Reed,” Carson says, breaking his hypnotic connection over me as Colton finally acknowledges the detective. “I asked how long you’ve worked at The Lair. Should we do this in an office rather than here?”
Colton’s gaze flicks from Carson back to me. “No,” he says, his voice a thick boom. It travels straight through me, and every inch of me aches, raw and needy. “Here’s fine. I have nothing to hide.”
His words zing right to my gut. The unspoken insult: but I do.
Sinking his hands into his pockets, Colton lifts his chin and pins Carson with a severe glare. “I’ve worked here for about five months. My brother needed to find some help quickly, and after that, the gig just stuck.”
“I can see how that could happen. Much better working environment than at the department.” Carson sends me a smirk, but my attention is on the man before me, the one who I know so little about that I didn’t even realize he had a brother, let alone that his brother ran the club.
Julian. That’s his name, though last names were never exchanged. The cool brush of betrayal skitters up my spine. Did Colton keep this information from me on purpose? Ours was not a typical start to a relationship; we never divulged intimate specifics about each other’s lives…but I still feel this one detail was not an oversight.
“I know it looks like this business is all fun and games,” Colton says. “But I do have actual work to do before the club opens. Can we move this along—quickly?”
“Right. Of course.” Carson waves a hand through the air, dismissing his last comment. “We’re actually here about your merchandise, Mr. Reed.”
“Colton’s fine.”
With a smile, Carson continues. “I assume the club sells toys and…bondage equipment.”
Colton simply nods his confirmation.
“Would it be possible to take a look at some of the equipment?” Carson asks, his firm tone indicating that he’s not really seeking permission. “And the shipping details, more specifically. Who your suppliers are, where your merchandise is shipped from.”
Removing his hands from his pockets, Colton crosses his arms over his chest. “I believe you need a warrant for that, detective.”
This is true. What the hell is Carson doing? I know exactly where he’s going with this, I just don’t understand what connection he’s trying to link in the victimology, or who he’s targeting.
I open my mouth to interrupt, but Carson jumps ahead. “You’re right, and it will take a load of paperwork and begging judges and a lot of wasted time on my part to get that warrant. And in the end, I probably won’t succeed.” He cocks his head, eyeing Colton seriously. “So I was hoping you could do the department a favor and skip over the bureaucracy part. Maybe a favor might come in handy down the road for you, Colton.”
I can make a pretty accurate guess based on Colton’s demeanor that he’s not giving
anything up to Carson. His jaw locks tight, his chest rises with a heavy inhale, and his features settle into a resolute hardness.
I step between them to deflect an oncoming confrontation when Colton says, “Fine. Lilly Anne—” he beckons the corset girl from across the room “—show Detective Carson the shipping labels and sales receipts for the ‘merchandise’.” At Carson’s pleased expression, Colton adds, “I trust that this information will be kept confidential within the department.”
“Absolutely. We appreciate your cooperation.”
Lilly Anne only hesitates a moment before nodding her head in the direction she takes off in. “Come on. My office is upstairs.”
Carson starts to follow after her, then stops to look back at me. “You coming?”
The look Colton is giving me says otherwise. Besides, I think I’ve taken enough orders from egotistical rookie detectives for one day. “You go ahead. I have some questions of my own for Mr. Reed.”
With a shrug that says Carson doesn’t mind being alone with Lilly Anne one bit, he leaves the ground level to pursue her up the spiraling staircase.
My body is suddenly very aware of Colton’s appraising gaze, and I touch the table behind me as I meet his eyes, keeping myself steady. The melodic swell of cellos and violins crescendos, thickening the already dense tension. “I didn’t know you were a classical music lover,” I say, deciding to be the first to break the silence.
He’s in no mood for trivial talk of music, however. He turns and starts down a darkened hallway, where I assume I’m to follow.
