Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (11 page)

Masters was a kink club that the majority of the team members frequented, which happened to be jointly owned by Jax and Connor. Both were into that type of lifestyle and it just so happened that so was Lach. There was something about the power exchange between a man and a woman that allowed both participants to be themselves where trust could be fostered and grown. There was both give and take in those scenarios, as well as both search and discovery within themselves. It was a beautiful experience of fruition and a journey of equals dependent on trust. Lach hadn’t had that type of occurrence lately and staring across the street finally hammered home the reason why. Damn it.

“Yes.” Lach watched as an old blue rusted-out Ford POS slowly made its way down the street, memorizing the license plate. It was the second time this morning and could be just a coincidence, but he wasn’t one to take chances. “I’ll let you know when Phoebe’s night shift takes up position.”

“Sounds like a plan, brother,” Ethan murmured and then disconnected their call.

Lach shoved his phone into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket after texting the license plate number of the vehicle to Taryn and then left a five dollar bill on the table. It was thirty minutes before Phoebe’s interview with
Daytime America
. He’d already done a quick background check on the crew that would be working the cameras and they all came up clean without any flags. He’d stay in the background, giving himself the opportunity to observe Stewart Barnes and Hannah Ward. He hoped that Phoebe had gotten over her bizarre behavior from earlier. He hadn’t opened the door when his phone vibrated with an incoming message, indicating that Taryn was on the ball.

Victor Ward. Father of Hannah Ward. Kevin taking inquiry.

Taryn’s text went on to give detailed information, but it was enough to give Kevin something to go on. Was Hannah’s father keeping tabs on his daughter or did he have more on his agenda? Lach, Connor, and Ethan would continue with their details, but they were a little better armed while Kevin and Jax ran the ground investigation. As for the personal aspect of this case, he wasn’t so sure why he was agitated with the way things had gone earlier. The facts were stated and understood—by both of them. Phoebe had an image to uphold and he knew that she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that, so this uneasiness must stem from suffering from the age old cause, lack of enough action. Lach would have to fix that tonight at Masters.

Chapter Nine

M
asters was in full swing as Lach walked through the entrance from the public reception room and into the members’ only area, which separated the lounge from the velvet roped play areas. The pulsating Latin music that came over the speakers was just high enough to add to the atmosphere yet low enough that conversation could still be had comfortably. It was vital for the submissives to hear and understand what their Dominants were instructing them to do, as well as allowing the Doms to hear the pleas and cues of their subs. If a sub called out their safeword, play would immediately stop or the designated dungeon monitor would instantly pull the malefactor aside. He allowed the citrus orange fragrance along with the smell of leather to mingle and mix with his senses, giving him an awareness that he craved. Unfortunately, it did little for his crappy mood.

Lach didn’t feel his muscles relax with the familiar change of atmosphere like they usually did, yet he still strolled across the floor to the bar in the members’ lounge. He would salvage the rest of the night, even if it meant not participating this evening. A good stiff drink was what he needed.

The only hitch that might have kept Lach and Ethan from attending the club tonight had been if they hadn’t been allowed to have access to their phones. The policy of Masters was that cells were kept in the coatroom in the foyer, thus protecting the clientele from capturing anything on audio or video that could be used as blackmail. Connor had already cleared them to carry their phones due to the importance of the case they were working on.

“Did you tuck in your girl?” Jax asked from his position behind the bar. Lach looked around but didn’t see Eden, the latest bartender. She might end up being a keeper the way she whipped up some of her drinks and treated the customers. She would have been better to have on the other side of the bar. Jax would just rib him until he was raw, causing Lach to say something he’d regret. “Ethan called and wanted you to know that his primary decided to attend a party.”

Lach shook his head in sympathy, knowing Ethan wouldn’t allow the night shift PSD to deal with that alone. There were too many unknowns and unsecure situations that could occur. Lach would have been better off had he’d been assigned to Kimmie. At least he knew what to expect with the younger woman. Phoebe had already changed personalities on him twice. This third time when he’d seen her safely tucked inside her apartment this evening had been just too damn much. What the hell did she mean by saying they should continue what they’d started in Iraq?

“Lach, would you come in for a moment?” Phoebe asked as they were walking down the hallway. Sam had gone ahead of them, letting himself in to start clearing her apartment. He was now situated in front of her door. “I’d like to discuss something with you.”

“About the case?”

“No.” Phoebe’s pause said all there was to say, yet she continued and confirmed why Lach had been feeling so uneasy all day. “It’s about us.”

“We’ve already been over that.”

“And I think we need to readdress our conversation,” Phoebe said in a low tone. They were four feet from where Sam was stationed when she’d stopped and forced him to do the same, facing her. “You said so yourself. We had a miscommunication back in Iraq.”

“It doesn’t matter what happened in Iraq.” Lach didn’t like that they were standing in the hallway having this conversation, but he wasn’t about to enter her apartment and be tempted to take her up on what she was offering. “Our present situation has already dictated how we are going to proceed.”

“Again, I think we should change that. I
want
to change it.”

“Sucks for him,” Lach said, brushing off the memory. He tried to act casual and make light conversation, while dragging his thoughts away from what had happened not thirty minutes prior. He leaned against the wooden counter of the bar, motioning toward his bottle of XXV single malt Glenlivet scotch whiskey that they kept behind the bar for his particular tastes. “Hit me up.”

“You’re not playing tonight?” Jax reached for a rocks glass, dropped in a freshly chilled stone, and pulled the cork stopper. As per the club rules, there was always a two drink maximum per client if he or she were going to play. Lach, however, had made it a personal directive not to drink at all if he was going to participate in the activities here at the club and Jax knew it. As the glass received his usual two fingers, Lach didn’t even bother to look and see who was participating. Recalling Phoebe’s parting words as he made sure she was safely ensconced in her apartment, Sam situated outside her door, had his mood deteriorating rapidly. “Casey has been asking about you.”

“She’s too fucking timid.” Lach preferred a submissive who knew what she wanted and was accepting of her sexuality. Shelley was a prime example of knowing and accepting. Flint had his wife bound to the St. Andrew’s cross and was slowly working her over with a flogger. Her shoulders were held back with pride, yet with just a glance over his shoulder, he could see from across the room that she was trembling with arousal. Brie was the same way, and as Nick utilized the suspension beam, her eyes were shining as she was tied and bound beautifully in Shibari. “I was hoping Lindsay would be here.”

“Really?” Jax sat the short heavy glass in front of Lach and then leaned against the counter. Lach had no idea why he’d thrown out Lindsay’s name, but now he could just kick himself in the ass. Phoebe had messed with his mind and he wasn’t in the mood to be here. The only reason he’d shown up was because he’d told Ethan he would and had hoped that being here would set his head on straight. Now that his friend was stuck at work, that meant he could slam the expensive scotch and leave. “She doesn’t strike me as your type.”

“How’s Emily and Derrick?” Lach asked, changing the subject and giving himself the time to finish his drink. A soft cry could be heard from across the room, along with the soothing yet stern tones of the sub’s Dom, but Lach continued to lead Jax into another direction. “I’m surprised you’re here tonight.”

Lach didn’t want to get into what type of woman he preferred, especially since he couldn’t get a certain blonde off of his mind. Instead he’d get Jax to talk about his family. As Jax filled him in on Eden calling in sick and continued to discuss his son’s first steps along with droning on about baby teeth and sleep schedules, Lach glanced around the area one more time. The semi-private sitting areas of the commons that were separated by plants and ferns were being occupied by the regular clientele, as were nearly all of the play stations. He reminded himself this was what he was comfortable with, not some formal social setting where he’d be made to wear a tie like some kind of noose. That thought caught him off guard and it wasn’t until he heard his name repeated that he realized Jax had asked him a question.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Lach asked before he took a sip of the amber liquid, sucking it into his mouth and closing his eyes to savor the rich release of spices that developed into a dark chocolate, hinting of orange peel essence. He then took a large swallow, much to his shame. The faster he got it down, the quicker he got to leave.

“Ask a question so that someone else talks.” Jax pushed up off of the bar top and grabbed a hand towel. “It’s a dick move.”

“It works.” Lach flashed a quick smile, not feeling guilty in the least. It suddenly hit him that Jax had dealt with a similar issue with Emily. His wife had come back into his life, changing his everyday reality. Lach contemplated running his issues with Phoebe by him, but then decided against it. They were friends, but they weren’t close like Jax was with Connor. Hell, after Lach’s clusterfuck with his previous job, he’d disconnected all ties to any friends he’d had back then. All of these memories being dug up were because of Phoebe and he just didn’t have time for any of it. “I appreciate the whiskey, but I’ve got some files to go over.”

“Kevin’s SITREP?”

“Yes.” Lach took that out, knowing full well that Kevin had turned in his interview with Victor Ward. Jax didn’t know that Lach had already read it thoroughly and that Victor had made it clear he was only driving by to check up on his daughter. Lach wasn’t so sure that was the case, but Kevin reported that there was no evidence against his claim. “Give Emily a kiss for me.”

“Over my dead body,” Jax said good-naturedly. Lach did appreciate that his team members didn’t push him too hard to join in their social group, giving him time to acclimate to the new agency. CSA was a hell of a lot different than the FBI and Lach respected the military brother and sisterhood they’d recreated as opposed to the institution that was the FBI. “Well, you’ll find my SITREP in your box as well. It’s rather remarkable, but the interested parties came up negative.”

Lach hadn’t seen Jax’s report and he now felt a pressing need to go review it. It gave him something to do besides thinking of Phoebe. It wasn’t like he and Jax would discuss a case of such importance in front of civilians, but his words indicated that he’d found something noteworthy. Before Lach could turn to go, his phone vibrated.

“I’ve got a call coming in.”

Lach didn’t need to say anything more. Jax knew that he wouldn’t take the call inside the club. He slapped the counter and then turned, walking through the crowd that was gathering. He ignored the mewing submissives that tried to capture his attention and finally made it out to the reception area where it was safe to pull out his phone. A text displayed across the screen that included Phoebe’s codename and the message made his chest tighten, regardless of the reassurance attached to the sentence.