CHAPTER TWENTY

Riggs

“You said you don’t like drama.” He looked his boss in the eye.

Duane looked like he’d chewed on a stale cigar. “I don’t.”

Riggs stared absently over the Fountain Place water gardens in downtown Dallas. The staircase waterfall under the canopy trees provided a brief shade in the otherwise green-less city of skyscrapers. The water pooled at the bottom patio, right up against the glass windows of a luxury hotel.

His boss always wore a suit and jacket, even in the heat. Today, he’d left his top button undone, and left the tie at home.

“You’re my last military Knight.” The words drifted over the air, mingling with the sound of the trickling water.

“I’m sorry.”

Duane turned sideways and crossed his arms. “No, you’re not.”

Riggs sighed. “I’m sorry to put you through more hassle. Not my intention.”

“Well…not your problem anymore, yeah?” His accent turned a little lazier, and he shook his head.

“You knew this was coming. Obviously, since you wanted to meet here, instead of at a bar.” All the Knights knew Duane lived in a high rise condo in downtown, but none of them had ever been there. Nor knew the exact building.

“This place is more reflective. Reminds me of London a bit. Dallas is drier. Every now and then, I need to hear the water to feel like an Englishman.”

“If you miss England so much, you shouldn’t have chosen one of the hottest cities in the south.”

“It’s not the heat. I’ll never miss that cold.” He pinched the skin between his eyebrows. “But it’s so damn dry here.”

“Then you should consider moving out to one of the lakes.”

Duane adjusted his coat. “This is where the action is. There are more single women in Dallas than most other large cities. So, tell me. Are you feeling better?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard about the incident at the gym. Something about PTSD. Is that why you’re leaving?”

“No.” Riggs clenched his teeth together, hoping he’d drop the subject.

“Ben claims Dorian’s helping you through whatever it is. Is there something I need to know?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Of course not.”

“Well.” The boss rubbed his nose again. “You tell that bastard he’s totally cocking up my business. I wouldn’t be having half these problems if it weren’t for him introducing his friends to my agency.”

Riggs gave him a smug look. “Or maybe we helped get your agency off the ground.”

His lip curled. “I’m sure Dorian would like to see it that way.”

The trickling water sounds expanded the space between them.

Duane Wilkes, always the hard ass.

“Thanks for everything.” He pulled the cufflinks from his pocket. The black stones with diamond chip in the center were his introductory gift in the agency. Every Knight had a set. He held them out.

“Keep them.” His former boss’ expression was forced. “Least I can do.”

“Memento of my youth?” Riggs flashed a grin.

“I’d like to think they helped you become a gentleman. Cowboy and all.” Duane slapped his shoulder.

They shook hands, firm, holding on for a few seconds.

“Take care of yourself,” Riggs said.

“You do the same.”

He slipped the cufflinks back in his pocket, and climbed the stairs. At the top, Duane’s reflection in the glass windows was gone.