Without a Net (24 page)

Ollie leaned forward and tapped with his nose to get the next report.

“Interesting stuff?” Travis asked. When Ollie sat up, Travis rested his hand on Ollie’s shoulder.

“Greyson’s annoyingly good at avoiding incriminating evidence.”

“Too good,” Travis said. “We suspect a couple of accidents were, in fact, him getting rid of accomplices he didn’t think he could trust.”

“Which means all his other accomplices will be twice as careful to avoid his wrath.”

“Yep.” Travis put his boot under Ollie’s ass and pressed up with his toe. The chastity device was tight enough that Ollie felt the pressure everywhere. The base of the sheath pushed against his cock, his balls ached as the leather straps tightened and drove the plug deeper into him.

Ollie leaned forward and groaned in pleasure. “Shit, you don’t play fair.”

“Never even pretended to,” Travis said. “We’ve been doing this for two days. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

“I’m a slow learner.”

Travis snorted at that answer. He had said more than once he was surprised at how easily Ollie had embraced a new lifestyle. Travis acted like Ollie should have some angst or great life crisis over discovering he liked a good whipping. It wasn’t like Ollie would go out and let anyone take a whip to his ass. He might like the slow build of pain and the quick release offered by Travis’s whipping job, but he suspected he wouldn’t enjoy other Doms or their attention.

Milan could probably deliver the same mind-numbingly good pain, but Ollie didn’t plan to test that theory. His feelings about Milan were tangled enough without adding another layer of dubious consent on top.

“Do you see anything I missed in those reports?”

Ollie forced his thoughts away from his overstimulated body and looked at the screen. “I think my gut feeling that this was some het-power sentiment might be part of this. Either these guys are using their heterosexuality as a way to form bonds—”

“
Look at us. We’re so much better than all these people we’re supposed to serve
,” Travis said. “We’ve seen hate groups used to create bonds before. Hell, the Italians used that to control organized crime for decades before the police finally broke up the families.”

“And white power or het power or fundie belief groups are hard to crack for the same reason,” Ollie finished. “But the other option is that the het stuff is just a layer. If they get caught, it looks like some shitty discrimination and nothing more ominous. Huda would lose his job, and the officers would get transferred around, but people don’t go to jail for being shitheads.”

“We don’t have enough jails for it.” Travis pressed up with his boot again, and Ollie endured the growing lust. He was surprised he could think straight given how often Travis drove him to the edge of need. Ollie had never played with orgasm control for so long. Sure, he went two days without sex all the time. He was a cop; he didn’t have time to play as often as he’d like. But two days of teasing and pleasure whippings and tender touches and hot showers with Travis washing him without unchaining his hands, and Ollie felt like his balls might explode. The pleasure and pain twisted together until Ollie didn’t know which he was feeling. He did know he wanted more denial just as much as he wanted to come, and he wanted both a hell of a lot.

Maybe he could ask to come and then restart the denial cycle. Ollie glanced up at Travis and toyed with the idea of asking for it, but he didn’t. He couldn’t even say for sure what kept him silent. Maybe he feared looking weak compared to Travis’s previous partners. A hard-core shade Dom like Travis would have topped some pretty damn impressive subs.

Buck came to mind. Ollie cleared his throat and got his mind on the work. “If we don’t cut the head off this hydra, it will just grow new ones.”

Travis leaned forward. “What do you see?”

“Some of those businesses you show Greyson taking over…”

“Yeah?”

“When Greyson was a lieutenant in major crime, some of those criminals stopped getting arrested. When Greyson transferred, they went back to their old patterns of getting arrested and hiring high-priced lawyers to get them out of any indictments.”

“He was making deals,” Travis said. “We suspected as much. You’re right. If we don’t get Greyson, he’s going to set up a new scheme in some new corner. He’s a corrupt piece of shit.”

Ollie couldn’t argue with that. He went back to reading reports, mentally sorting information on former colleagues and coworkers. Most of the surveillance was on Huda and Greyson, but the FBI did have a dozen or so lower cops on the radar. It was strange to read about himself. Travis reported that Ollie appeared under a lot of stress. He was right on that count. Travis believed Ollie was on the outside of Greyson’s group, but he recommended the FBI avoid contact in case he was wrong.

It reassured Ollie that Travis had never thought he was dirty. That made no sense because it shouldn’t matter. But still… Travis had always believed Ollie was a straight cop. Kemboi was missing from the reports. Ollie figured they didn’t have him under surveillance, but that made sense. He was a Revival Mennonite, so he avoided unnecessary technology in his personal life. Because he didn’t use credit cards or holo booths, he was harder to track. Cooper was a regular at Huda’s home on weekends.

Ollie felt ill. He knew Cooper and Jackson hated him, but seeing proof they were in on the plan to kill him was nauseating. Jackson was the primary suspect in the disappearance of a sun dealer who had been fighting Greyson’s takeover, and like Cooper, he was a regular at Huda’s home. Ollie studied the list of officers who made a habit of socializing with the lieutenant. These were men and women he knew. He’d been to Chavez’s wedding. He’d donated when Allack’s wife had gotten cancer and the insurance hadn’t covered the full cost of reconstructive surgery. These weren’t faceless perps. They were his brothers and sisters in blue.

Travis shifted on the couch, and then he rubbed the back of Ollie’s neck. Cool shivers ran down Ollie’s spine, and now his body was so confused that Ollie didn’t know what to feel.

The phone rang, and Travis picked it up with a curt, “Go.” He listened for a time before saying, “Got it.”

The tone set off all Ollie’s internal alarms. “Trouble?” he asked after Travis ended the call.

“Greyson’s guys are here.”

“Not Greyson?”

“No, he’s too smart for that. He’s sent Jackson and Langlauf. Darla’s holding position in the surveillance van, and she’s putting the tire tag on the road so we can chip their car as they leave. Everything’s according to plan so far.”

“So, showtime?” Ollie asked. Jackson and Langlauf had to incriminate themselves in order to extort Milan. Unfortunately, Ollie suspected both were too smart to say anything that could be used against Huda and Greyson, so this was the first step in the operation. At least this time Ollie was going in with backup he trusted.

Actually, he’d trusted Greyson’s backup the last time he’d gone on a mission, but Ollie had more faith in his judgment this time. Milan and Travis had him helpless, and neither had hurt him. Travis had bent over backward to avoid doing harm, and even now the guilt sometimes slipped between them like a dense fog.

Travis held up a gag. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. I want to take these bastards down.”

Travis grinned at him. “Oh, we’re going to. Don’t even worry about that.” He put the gag in Ollie’s mouth and buckled it behind his head. He bound Ollie’s arms tightly behind his back, and Ollie wore ankle cuffs and some brilliantly colored bruising, so his cover was good. Now he had to let Milan and Travis take the lead.

Travis gestured toward the door, and Ollie headed out of the room they’d claimed as an office. As they walked the halls, staff vanished into side doors. Ollie figured most of them were nervous about getting caught between dirty cops and feds. Ollie had a few butterflies himself, but Travis kept a hand on Ollie’s back, and that touch grounded him.

They’d planned this part out, so Ollie expected Travis to lead him to a small passage next to the main library. From here, he could see the others through a thin slot; however, they wouldn’t see him. After all, Greyson’s men didn’t expect Milan to show off a kidnapped cop.

“You okay?” Travis asked.

Ollie gave a nod, and after one long concerned look, Travis stepped back and closed the secret door to the passage. He had to walk around, so for a time, Ollie watched Milan sit behind his desk, his long fingers tracing the edge.

“Sir, your visitors are here,” Dan announced from the door. In a second, the pensive expression on Milan’s face vanished. He tilted his head back and managed to look down his nose at Dan despite being seated.

“Show them in,” he said with a gesture toward the room. Dan bowed and backed out. Travis was the next person to arrive, and he moved to the divan next to the door. The others couldn’t leave without going past him, and that would make them nervous. As a cop, Ollie never liked having someone at his back.

Soon Dan arrived with Jackson and Langlauf close behind. After the briefest of introductions, Dan retreated, leaving the library doors open. Jackson still oozed that smarm that had always made Ollie dislike him. Jackson had an untrimmed beard and hair that gave the impression that he had gone one day too long without showering. Travis didn’t bother to stand, so when Jackson came in, he stopped at the entrance and looked at Travis for a long time. Travis lifted an eyebrow and gazed right back. If Jackson thought he could out-alpha Travis, he was a fool.

Milan interrupted their silent conflict. “Are you two planning to eye fuck all day? I have business to attend to, and I am rather uninterested in entertaining the police.” Milan picked up an old-fashioned envelope opener and clicked it against the glass top on his desk.

Jackson turned his attention to Milan. “Yeah, we’ve heard your speech. Business partners can be helpful in many ways, though.”

“No doubt,” Milan said with a weary sigh.

Jackson walked to one of the chairs across from Milan and sat, leaving Langlauf hovering near the door. He was guarding Jackson’s six, and Ollie found that amusing. Jackson trusted officers at his back, but these were the same officers who had already proved willing to betray their badge, their vows, and their brothers and sisters in blue.

Jackson reached into his front jacket pocket, and Ollie felt the whole room go stiff. “I’m here on official business. We’re investigating the disappearance of Detective Oliver Robertson.”

Milan glanced down at the datapad Jackson offered. “He seems rather underdressed for an officer of the law,” Milan said.

Ollie blushed. Milan had seen him naked already, but having photographic evidence of his sexual humiliation in the hands of an enemy was a level of hell.

“We thought you would recognize this faster than his official picture.”

Milan gave him a snake’s smile. “No, sorry. Feel free to leave now.”

Jackson made a show out of looking around the room. “Where is that beautiful Tony of yours? I thought he was attached to your side with a leash.”

Minute signs of tension appeared in Milan’s body. Even though his hands remained relaxed on the desk, his eyes narrowed a tiny bit, and his nose widened. He was clearly trying to control his reactions. Milan said in the same bored tone, “He’s unavailable.”

“I’m sure we could find him if we looked,” Jackson said, and that was a threat.

Milan leaned forward. “I’m sure you couldn’t. And were you to try, you might find yourself extremely sorry.”

Jackson smiled. “I would accuse you of threatening a police officer, but I’m sure you’re simply doing your duty and reminding me that your sub is a killer. He killed his Dom, right? There should be a movie of the week about his life—a real warning about what happens when subs get out of hand. But maybe you’re better at controlling him.”

All the pieces suddenly made sense. Milan had kidnapped Ollie and started this whole idiotic plan because they’d threatened someone Milan cared about—they’d threatened his sub. Given Milan’s reactions, this wasn’t a sub he was training or someone he’d hired. This was his sub, his lover.

Ollie looked at Travis, but he had an unemotional facade in place. Still, Ollie got the feeling Travis hadn’t known about this either.

“I am simply informing you of the nature of the universe,” Milan said, his voice all arrogance and disdain. “Those who act irresponsibly inevitably pay in one way or another. And yes, Tony is rather effective at helping karma along, not that you will find him to learn that lesson for yourself.”

Jackson shrugged. “Well, we have no time anyway. We’re on the hunt for our missing detective.”

Milan deliberately set the letter opener at the edge of the desk. “I can’t help you.”

“We think you can.” Jackson touched the surface of the electronic pad and then pushed it toward Milan. After glancing at it, Milan looked toward Travis. Jackson must have noticed the gesture, because he stood and moved to the side of the room. That meant Ollie couldn’t see him, but Langlauf put his hand on his weapon.

“I don’t recommend that,” Travis said in a mild voice. “If a fed and a local LEO get in a shoot-out, people will give the FBI agent the benefit of the doubt.” Travis shifted forward. He wasn’t as obvious as Langlauf with his hand on his gun, but there was something dangerous about the way he was sitting.

“Let me introduce my colleague,” Milan said in a sadistically gleeful voice. “This is Special Agent Travis Goode of the FBI.”

Travis looked smug as he turned in the direction where Jackson was standing out of Ollie’s line of sight. Langlauf paled. That was amusing. They’d bitten off more than they could chew this time.

“Agent Goode.” Jackson stopped after saying that. Ollie wished he could see his face.

“When Milan called me, I have to admit this sounded a lot like dirty cops shaking down an honest business owner. I find that interesting,” Travis said. Ollie bit down on the gag and tried to calm his heart. This scenario had so many possibilities for going wrong.

“Honest business owner,” Jackson said. “He tried that one already. We didn’t buy it, and these pictures of him kidnapping Detective Robertson pretty much prove he’s a criminal. I have a team waiting to come in and arrest him unless you’d like to do the honors. Kidnapping is a federal crime.”