Without a Net (28 page)

“A little rape will be just fine. Now stop stalling, or I might think this is all a setup and Robertson isn’t broken at all.”

Without a word, Travis moved in front of Ollie and opened his pants.

There wasn’t a way out of this, but doing it threatened Ollie’s ability to stay in character. He wanted to scream for the backup. The relationship Travis and Ollie shared was so fragile that Ollie suspected it couldn’t survive this assault. And part of him feared Greyson would wait until Ollie’s mouth was full of dick and then shoot him. The danger was real, and if Ollie lost it now and said anything, he and Travis were both dead.

So he closed some part of his soul off and leaned in to do what had to be done. Ollie distantly heard Travis offering some halfhearted verbal abuse, but Ollie couldn’t focus on that. He couldn’t focus on anything, or else he was going to lose it. So words slipped by him; a few stuck—
slut, whore
. But most of the insults slid off as Ollie sucked Travis’s cock.

The guards were laughing, and Ollie cringed from the sound even as he tried to get Travis to come fast. However, Travis kept softening in Ollie’s mouth. Time crawled by as Ollie did his best to make Travis come. Ollie’s jaw ached and his mouth was uncomfortably dry before he felt Travis’s hips jerk. A second later the bitter salt of Travis’s cum filled his mouth. Ollie swallowed.

Travis leaned against Ollie’s shoulder and breathed hard. Ollie wondered how much of Travis’s exhaustion was physical and how much was a result of the emotional toll they would both have to pay for this. Ollie wanted to scream at Greyson and call him every name in the book. However, that wouldn’t get Ollie what he wanted, which was to see Greyson behind bars—him and every fucking dirty cop in the whole fucking city. And then Ollie might burn the city down too.

Greyson chuckled. “You’re too tense, Agent Goode. Either that or you should consider seeing a doctor about those erection difficulties.”

“I’m busy imagining ways to disembowel you.” Travis didn’t sound like he was joking one little bit. He zipped his pants up so fast Ollie was half afraid he was going to get his dick caught in the zipper.

Greyson laughed. “At least a person knows where you stand.”

Travis straightened up and turned around so he could square off against Greyson.

Before Travis could say anything, Greyson took a step into his personal space and rested a finger on Travis’s chest. “Just make sure that you check the stability of the ground under you. I’d hate to have you figure out too late that you’re on quicksand and sinking fast. You’re an employee, nothing more,” Greyson said.

“You don’t tell me what to do. You don’t have a right to humiliate me or attempt to control or degrade my sexuality. If you ever do this again, I will make you sorry, even if I have to cross Milan to do it,” Travis warned.

“Remember your place, and I won’t have to remind you again. Or maybe next time I’ll have Jackson force
you
to your knees. That would certainly make your place in this pecking order clear. But don’t worry about your whore. I got what I wanted. Maybe I will ask Crosica to train me up some troublesome detective.” Greyson turned to Jackson. “What do you think? Margarite Dory has been poking around even though she transferred out of the department. Maybe we should arrange for her to disappear.”

Jackson got an obscene expression on his face. “I’d rather have Angela Senari.”

“Good taste. She is a hot handful. I bet she’d look good on her knees.”

“Better than him.” Jackson looked at Ollie like he was some bug crawling around on the floor.

Travis spoke, and he didn’t have an ounce of emotion in his frigid voice. “Are we going to talk business?”

“I will when Crosica shows up. Until then, I might have to amuse myself.”

“He won’t come here. He did say that if you were adamant about a one-on-one meeting, he would meet you at the Happy Whip, but I wasn’t supposed to reveal that unless it looked like you were balking at negotiating with me.”

“Oh, I’m balking all right.” Greyson turned toward Travis. “You don’t speak for Crosica any more than Jackson can make agreements for me. But I don’t like meeting somewhere I haven’t checked out.”

“Then send your men to sweep the club. You can wait to come in until Milan shows.”

“This had better be worth the time and effort I’m putting into the deal.”

Travis shook his head as though shocked at Greyson’s doubt. “Believe me, you have no idea the business connections and clients that Milan brings to the table. Very few people understand the true scope of his influence.”

Greyson leaned toward Travis until they were so close it appeared almost intimate. “And I don’t think you appreciate my influence. I have a quarter of the city police reporting to me right now. Within two years, I’ll be the chief, and then this entire city’s police force will be under my control. I can send any investigation in any direction I want. I can protect Crosica and his interests in the city, or I can take him down. You keep talking like Crosica has the power here. I suggest you wake up and figure out who has the real power. After all, I might appreciate a man’s loyalty to his old boss, but I have limited patience for disrespect.” Greyson traced a finger over Travis’s cheek, and another wave of revulsion ran down Ollie’s spine.

Greyson glanced at Jackson. “Get them to Crosica’s club. Call me if and when Crosica shows up, but don’t let them leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

One of the others pulled Ollie to his feet while Jackson pushed Travis toward the vehicles.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Hey, boss,” Buck said as he greeted the ragtag group of hostages and dirty cops at the door.

Cooper stepped forward to grab Ollie’s arm, and Jackson continued to shadow Travis. If these guys had threatened Buck, he didn’t seem to care much. He kept his attention on Travis and had a laid-back attentiveness that suggested he found this whole thing routine.

Travis nodded. He glanced at Cooper for a millisecond before heading for the front door. “You been playing nice with the locals, Buck?”

“I haven’t strung them up and whipped them yet,” Buck said. He offered Cooper a look that suggested he’d love to do that very thing, and not for any sexual reason. Cooper shoved Ollie toward the door and ignored Buck.

“I’ll call Milan and tell him he needs to come handle negotiations,” Travis said over his shoulder, and he strode across the club floor toward the back.

“Milan?” Buck called after him, and now he sounded alarmed. “Seriously?”

“Not in the habit of joking, boy,” Travis said before vanishing through the door.

“Fuck me,” Buck said softly.

“What’s the matter with you?” Cooper asked.

Buck glared before grabbing Ollie’s arm and pulling him toward the bar. “Have you met Milan?”

“No,” Cooper said.

“Scary as all fuck. He’s about as dominant as a human being comes, and most of the time he cares about his subs, so that’s okay, but when he’s pissed off and when he stops caring about the people around him, he’s a terror.”

“Jackson said he’s a eunuch.” Cooper made a disgusted noise.

“Hell, yeah. He doesn’t like losing control. He refused to let his hormones control him. And if he does that to himself, you don’t want to know what he’ll do to you,” Buck said, his voice grim. Despite his tone, his large hands were gentle as they guided Ollie to the back of the bar and then encouraged him to kneel. It put Ollie into a protected position.

“If Crosica tries anything with me, I’ll shoot him,” Cooper said.

Buck snorted. “Better men than you have tried. Now, boy, I want every bottle down there cleaned, which would be easier if I switched the restraints so your hands were chained in front of you.” He sighed theatrically. “Cooper, you got the key?”

“No, Jackson probably does.”

“Well, go get it, then.”

“Don’t give me orders.”

“Okay, I’ll phrase it like a question. Would you go get the damn keys?”

“You get them.”

“Are you brain damaged?” Buck demanded. “If some customer comes walking in here asking why we’re closed, will you handle it? Do you want word to get around that you were hanging out in a closed shade bar?”

“You don’t have to take that tone.”

“If you’re being stupid, I do,” Buck said.

Ollie thought that was a bad move. Homicidal cops trying to set up their own crime networks weren’t widely known for their patience and forgiveness, but rapid footsteps against the club’s wooden floors suggested that Cooper was heading for the back. Buck looked down, and Ollie focused his attention on the floor. Meeting anyone’s gaze was too much right now. His emotions were a storm, and one bit of shame or sympathy from someone else—anyone else—would push him off a cliff. He couldn’t afford to lose it now.

Buck rested his boot on Ollie’s thigh and sighed. “I know how to take care of subbie little boys like you.” The words could have been a threat, but Ollie knew they weren’t. He gave Buck a small smile without meeting his gaze. Buck was resting his forearms on the bar and staring out at nothing, but he rocked back and forth, his knee touching one of the shelves below the rows of liquor bottles. Something dully reflected, and that was when Ollie noticed the gun sitting behind a line of shot glasses. His breath caught in his chest.

Buck stilled. “We’ll get your hands cuffed in front of you, and then you will polish every bottle, every glass, every inch of shelf. If I find one fingerprint or one hair, I will beat your ass until it’s so red they’ll see it from space. Got it, boy?”

Ollie gave a nod. He did get it. Whatever happened, he needed a weapon. He curled his fingers as he fought an overwhelming urge to grab for the gun now. Having a weapon in hand would make him feel better, even if some little part of himself suggested he shouldn’t have access to a weapon when he had this much rage boiling under the surface. Give him half a chance, and he’d shoot Greyson and dance on his cooling body. It wasn’t a good frame of mind for a cop.

“Boy, give me one reason why I shouldn’t put you on the rack and beat you senseless. You know better than to touch my property,” Travis said, his voice so menacing that a shiver went up Ollie’s spine.

“Sir, I am having him work. I’m not touching him.”

“You’d better not. You touch my shit, and I’ll cut your dick off and leave your balls to remind you of what you can’t have.” Travis slapped something. Hard. Ollie jerked, and Jackson chuckled.

Ollie looked to the left, and Jackson was there staring at him. “I think you’re scaring your pet.”

“I’m trying to remind Buck here that he’s not the Dom he’s trying to play. You aren’t, are you, boy?”

“No, sir.” Buck shrank back, and then something metal slid across wood.

“You take care of my property, or I’ll take it out on your hide,” Travis said coldly, and then footsteps retreated. Jackson continued to lean against the end of the bar and watch.

“I don’t think he likes you,” Jackson said, but Ollie couldn’t tell who he was speaking to.

Buck answered. “And he’s terrified of Milan. You might want to think about that before you go poking Milan too much.”

“You people are all the same. You have too much faith in your great leader. That is what you get for putting your faith in people,” Jackson said as he gestured toward Ollie. “Unless you want to end up in the same spot, I suggest you show more manners, boy.” Jackson was clearly trying to imitate Travis’s inflections, but his voice didn’t have the same power. Buck let his gaze drop, and Jackson turned and walked away.

“You’d better stop annoying him,” Cooper said in a low voice, as if he was commiserating with Buck.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Buck snatched the key off the counter and knelt down by Ollie. “Turn around,” he said curtly, but his hand rested on Ollie’s shoulder, offering comfort.

Ollie turned so Buck could reach his cuffs.

“I mean it,” Cooper said. “You don’t want to know how mean he can get. And Kemboi is worse. Don’t get on their bad sides.”

Ollie’s stomach dropped. Kemboi. Kemboi was worse. The one cop who had filed a complaint about Huda’s treatment of Ollie, the cop Ollie had trusted, the only one who had treated Ollie like a human being. Ollie was breathing faster and faster, but he didn’t realize it until Buck pressed his fingers into Ollie’s shoulder cruelly. The pain brought him back to reality. Of course Kemboi was dirty. He had played nice with Ollie, ensuring that if Ollie had complaints, he’d go there first.
Fuck.
Ollie would never trust anyone ever again. He’d have to resign from his job, but he couldn’t walk into the station anyway. Hell, maybe he’d need to resign from the human race. He wasn’t a fan right now.

Once Buck had unlocked the one cuff, he brought both Ollie’s hands around to the front and reattached the locking chain between them. “Now get to work before I decide to take a whip to you and suffer your master’s consequences later.” Buck added a shove and then stood.

“Wait. Let me see those cuffs,” Cooper said.

“Don’t trust me?” Buck asked with more than a little sarcasm. However, he grabbed the back of Ollie’s harness and pulled him up. “Show the man your cuffs, boy.”

Ollie put his hands out, and Cooper grabbed the chain between them, pulling on it and then checking each cuff before he nodded. “I trust you, but I’ve learned to double-check everyone.” Cooper held out his hand, and Buck turned over the key.

Ollie wondered if Cooper had been so paranoid before all this or if working for backstabbing double-dealing sons of bitches had stripped him of any faith in humanity.

“Get down there and get to work,” Buck said with a hard push. Ollie grunted as he hit the edge of the bar, and then he slid down to his knees. “You want a beer?” Buck asked Cooper.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Right, you wouldn’t want to drink on the job because that would be against regulations, and you’re all about following the rules.”

“Fine. One beer.”

Buck grabbed two bottles out of a cold bin and headed for the end of the bar.

“Aren’t you going to keep an eye on him?” Cooper asked.

“Why? He has his orders, and if he does anything I don’t like, I’ll ask Travis to whip him, or better yet, I’ll ask for permission to do it myself. The point of having a slave like that is to have him do the work, and if you have to keep an eye on him the whole time, that defeats the purpose.” Buck’s footsteps crossed the room, and then Ollie heard Cooper walk away from the bar. While Buck kept Cooper busy with talk of the latest Mars colony, Ollie reached for the weapon hidden far back on the shelf behind a series of bottles. It was a serious sidearm with twelve high-velocity rounds. Ollie tucked it back where he’d found it and started wiping down the bottles.