Free Frisked in Fondant: Tulle and Tulips, Book 6 by Nikki Duncan

with as much of yourself as you can allow.”
    * * * * *
    Kyle closed the door to the interrogation room behind him and rolled his neck. After more hours than he’d bothered to count, the female of the invasion team had finally given them everything they needed to close the case. Once she’d started talking she hadn’t stopped until she’d given them every detail of each invasion.
    Listening to her retelling of Gisella’s boiled his blood. After they chose the houses, they followed the marks to establish habits and patterns and get a feel for what they should be able to score. The man, a twenty-six-year-old college dropout, posed as a missionary. Several of the homeowners had let him in on a previous occasion, giving him a perfect chance to case their home. When he’d returned, they had no reason not to open the door for him.
    Gisella had been one of only a few who hadn’t worked so smoothly. They’d seen her coming and going, never by a set schedule since she sometimes worked from home. Sometimes she wore valuable jewels and other times she wore none. They’d found their way in, but she’d put up more of a fight than they’d expected.
    If Kyle had his way the district attorney would push for attempted murder, considering how close to her jugular the slice had been. Nothing would be enough for making her relive the night of her parents’ deaths.
    “Riley,” Burns called out when he entered the bullpen. “You’ve had five phone calls from a woman named Darci demanding you call her with an update on the case. She insists she isn’t going to be ignored.”
    “You call her with an update.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and headed toward his desk. “I have someone else to call.”
    Blake stepped into his path. Kyle stopped. “What?”
    “Just wondering.” Blake shifted his glance from Kyle’s face to his crotch. His brow creased as if he was trying to figure something out.
    Narrowing his eyes, Kyle refused to shift beneath the perusal. “What the hell?”
    “Wondering if that ring around your cock is uncomfortable.”
    “Pardon?”
    “You’re sure quick to use that phone. You’ve been texting more than normal.”
    “Leave it alone, Blake.” Hours of being across from the asshole responsible for slicing Gisella’s throat had him on edge. Hearing her voice would be the best way to calm him.
    “Seriously, does it hurt? Is it a newfangled kind of wedding ring?” Violence trembled on the tips of Kyle’s fingers. Dripped from the ends of his nails. He employed every vestige of control in his possession to keep his hands to himself now. “A woman was victimized. Have some courtesy.”
    When Blake opened his mouth again and said, “’Cause I’m thinking the only thing worse could be castration, especially if you’re not getting any,” Kyle told control to go fuck itself. His fingers balled into a fist and planted themselves at the tip of Blake’s nose.
    Whether they were talking about the same woman or not, it didn’t matter to Kyle. Blake was an asshole who needed to be put in his place. Everyone in the precinct knew it, but no one did anything about it.
    Blood spurted. Blake stumbled back. Shouts and yells erupted.
    Kyle stood, feet planted, fist trembling. “Anyone else?”
    “You broke my nose.”
    “Maybe it’ll remind you to show some respect for the victims of the assholes we haul in here, you callous prick.” Kyle looked around at the other cops. Most of them raised their hands to show their willingness to leave it alone. The others said nothing or shook their heads.
    Somewhere inside was a sliver of regret for striking a fellow officer. He knew better. No one had ever nudged him over the edge. Until the mention of Gisella.
    She’d faced enough assholes. She didn’t need to have them targeting her when she wasn’t even around to protect herself.
    Kyle pivoted on the ball of his foot to leave and stumbled to a stop when he noticed Gisella standing in the doorway.