LUNA
I’d seen a lot ofshit during my time on the force.
I’d heard even more my entire life.
Growing up in a family of law enforcement officers meant that holidays and family dinners always included reminiscing, ranting, and story-topping. I’d heard more gory details than any kid probably should’ve as the men in my family recalled their most dangerous or rewarding cases, the details becoming more exaggerated each time they would try to be the badass of the night.
With all that experience, nothing should surprise me.
But that was exactly how I felt as I rushed forward.
With as calm as our tour guide had been, I hadn’t expected to find anything. Thank God I was damn good at my job.
Chaos erupted behind me as Matthews restrained Rhys Walker—at least that was the name listed for the owner of the bar—in the hallway, but my focus was on the panicked woman in the office.
A woman who was also restrained.
And nearly nude.
Standing in a tiny thong and a bra that showed more than it hid, she was zip-tied to a filing cabinet. Her wide eyes darted between the three of us.
I kept my voice low and soothing. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Grabbing the black apron from the pile of nearby clothes, I draped it over her front like a backward cape. It was only the half kind that tied around the waist and there was something heavy in the pockets dragging it down, but it was better than nothing.
“Who are you?” she asked before looking behind me. “Sir, what is this?”
If it wasn’t the wrong time, I would’ve stormed back over to kick that man in the dick. Instead, I scanned around the messy desk. “Let me find some scissors to get you free.”
“What? No. No, no, no.”
“It’s okay. He can’t hurt you,” I whispered softly, trying to reassure the woman who’d gone from panicked to frantic.
“But I want him to!” She looked over my head again, and her eyes narrowed into a glare. “If this is gonna be a group thing, you should’ve given me a heads-up.”
What the hell…?
Chalking her reaction up to shock—or maybe a hefty dose of Stockholm syndrome—I started moving again and grabbed the scissors from the desk.
The woman’s gaze dropped to them before she slipped out of her bindings.
Easily slipped out.
She looked at the man in the hallway and gave a small shrug. “Sorry, I couldn’t get it tight on my own.”
“What’re you doing in here?” he rumbled back.
Her lips parted, and the pink tinge to her cheeks grew to a deeper red. Her nervous gaze darted between us before landing back on him as she stammered, “I… We… I thought…” Her brows and voice both lowered. “You texted me.”
“Got no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about, Daisy.” His own voice was just as soft. Gentle, even—in the gravelly, gruff way.
That tone only seemed to set her off.
“You ordered me here,” she insisted, setting off flares and alarm bells in my head.
“I didn’t,” he said, still calm.
“You did!”
“Okay,” I started, before her gaze shot to me.