Page 56 of Beware of Dog

“We have Art History together, and he told me.”

“Hetold you?” Melissa’s brows shot up. “Shit.” She shook her head, rubbed at her chin, and said, with greater feeling, “Shit.”

“What?” Cass asked.

“Nothing.” Melissa grabbed for the door handle. “Stay here. Both of you.Do notgo back out there.” Then she let herself out and pulled the door firmly shut in her wake.

~*~

Something Rob had told her early on came back to her now as she stalked across the bullpen toward the interview room where he’d taken Bryce.Don’t ever get too caught up in thinking a case is simple. Sex crimes areneversimple. And this one had felt simple.

Sig was a spoiled rich asshole too lazy to put any effort into charming a girl, and too entitled to handle a possible rejection. He dosed Cassandra’s drink. When that didn’t work, he got a little revenge, and got his little dick wet with Jamie. Because he was a scumbag, it was simple and logical that one of his friends turned rat.

Too simple.

Melissa rapped on the door and waited in the hallway until Rob stepped out.

“What?”

“Close the door.” When he did, she said, “Cass is here because Brycetold herhe was the witness.”

Rob had been in this line of work too long to evidence surprise beyond a faint lift of his brows. “Damn. What a little bastard.”

“I know Cass didn’t go to him,” Melissa continued. “He had to come to her. The giant bitch-fit Shep’s throwing about it means Cass had very explicit orders not to go anywhere near Sig or any of his friends.”

His brows lifted a fraction higher. “She hadorders? From that guy out there?”

Melissa rolled her eyes. Rob had dealt with Pongo for several years now, and even Toly; he’d encountered Shep off and on, if not properly been introduced to him. She’d guarded the club’s privacy, but she’d explained things to Rob in a way that meant he shouldn’t have had to ask that question just now. “Notorders like you’re thinking. Shep said to steer clear, and she’s a smart girl. Most of the time. I bet she listened.”

Rob nodded. “Alright. Well. What are the odds our buddy Bryce in there is here onSig’sorders?”

“Good enough I’d put money on them.”

“Wanna come see?” He hooked a thumb at the door.

“Oh, definitely.”

~*~

With Melissa gone, and the blinds of the conference room closed against the police activity beyond, Shep unzipped his jacket with a hard jerk, propped his hands on his hips, and glowered at the door like it had just insulted his mother.

Cass knew that she had to be the one to say something, and that she would need to choose her words carefully. She needed to diffuse the situation, return him to his usual don’t-give-a-shit resting bitch face rather than this hilarious and terrifying rage-glare, but at the same time, she didn’t want to fold herself back into her previously occupied, designated box. She was done, she decided, in the face of his fury, being a babysat kid. It was time to speak plainly, to say what she wanted without spooking him into a categorical rejection.

No pressure, in other words.

Still looking at the door, he said, “I don’t know if you’re dumber than I thought, but if you think that kid out there isn’t trying to—”

“Frank.”

His first name always got to him. He fell silent. His teeth snapped together. When he turned toward her, his expression had gone guarded.

“I know what I want for my birthday.” When he didn’t react, just stared at her blankly, she added, “You asked me the other day what I wanted for my birthday, and I figured it out.”

His lips pressed flat. His gaze narrowed. He sensed a trap. But not, she knew, exactly what kind of trap.

He clearly wanted to stay on topic, but said, as though against his will, “What?”

Cass took a slow, deep breath. Here she went. “I want to have sex. With you. I want you to fuck me for my birthday.”

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