Storms and craters

Chapter 1

He has always had his own special sort of pride. On the verge of arrogance.

It's not easy to get along with him at all. But what most distinguished him from the other men in the department was the limit of his boiling point. When everyone else lost their temper, for lack of arguments or other ways to get confession from a "client", Vegas alone remained unperturbed. It rarely happened that he crossed this limit and began to rage.

He has his own methods.

By the age of twenty-seven, Vegas has clearly learned: this world does not stand the cowards. At least once you give up and life will devour you and spit you out along with your fears and doubts. Therefore, he is not afraid and does not doubt. In any case, in front of others. If necessary, he goes ahead and takes his own. Ever since studying at the Academy*. Over the years of service in the Drug Enforcement Administration, the current police captain Teerapanyakun has heard a lot, each time responding with a silent crooked half-smile. He found it funny that those who were most unable to sleep at night, inquiring why he was tearing up his ass at this job, no matter how much they licked the boss's ass, soon found themselves overboard.

Again, that tune... I can't forget it.

Vegas involuntarily begins to mumble faintly, singing along to the tune in his head. Perhaps he would be glad to forget it. Perhaps it is a part of that little which has remained with him since the happiest times of his life.

But there is neither time nor desire to indulge in memories. Moreover, Tawan said that the client is already there "

"Leave us alone."

No one from the department dares to contradict. Everyone knows it's useless. And none of those who left the interrogation room knows what Vegas is doing there with but after an hour the suspect writing the confession with a trembling hand.

A distorted scream through the mad fun.

This is all that is barely discernible because of the tightly closed door. No one can figure out how, but Vegas has made sure that the cameras installed around the perimeter do not work while he's there. How their superiors turned a blind eye to such a thing is a mystery to everyone.

Not a bruise. Not a scratch. Not even a cheek swollen from a light blow or a split lip. As if no one has touched the suspect with a finger. But no one can find out exactly what Vegas is doing.

And yet no one guesses about the side. About how every night Vegas drags his strong body to a lonely bed, dreaming of putting his head on the pillow, stretching his limbs and falling asleep right away.

Tonight he does it in forty-three minutes and sixteen seconds. Almost his personal best.

"Wow, you're on top as always, Khun Vegas!"

Tawan is already there, helpfully flitting in front of him. Which Vegas can't stand. You won't last long here, dude.

Others chuckle discreetly. Few people like the lucky ones. But it doesn't matter. He doesn't need friendship here. And anywhere else. Enough…

"Khun Vegas?"

"What?" Vegas smooths his shaved temples.

"It's Friday, what about having a drink somewhere?"

Vegas slightly lifts the right corner of his beautifully shaped lips:

"Of course," and without letting the joy on Tawan's face last even two seconds, he adds, "on one's own. Okay?"

In response, they mumble "see you Monday" and leave him alone.

Well, that's okay.

Three stars on the shoulders* are replaced by a black leather jacket over a plain T-shirt.