Page 55 of His Every Move

Eli’s question was innocent enough, but I still nearly tripped over myself and went flying off the treadmill. “He passed when we were in our senior year of high school.”

And I was there to witness it all.

Holding Michael as he took his last, rattling, bloody breath… fuck. I braced myself on the sides of the treadmill. The rain kicked up, a flash of lightning reflecting off the windows of the building across the street.

“I’m so sorry,” Eli said. I sucked in a deep breath. My jaw clenched tight. So tight that I was scared I was seconds away from chipping a tooth. I forced myself to relax, stretching and massaging my jaw. Eli must have sensed it was a heavy topic for me because he didn’t dig any further.

Good.

Not that I wasn’t comfortable enough to talk to him about it. I just… I physically couldn’t speak about it. There was an invisible boulder lodged in my throat. It blocked the words from ever forming.

“Come,” Eli said, turning his machine off and slowing to a complete stop. “Let’s go work out some arms. Sound good?”

“Perfect.” I stopped my treadmill, grabbed my towel and water bottle, and followed Eli toward the weight room. The entire gym had the same vibes of a five-star resort. Expensive pale wood paneling, modern strips of bright lighting, accents of black and deep greens blended together to enhance the clean aesthetic. Everyone here looked like they were models or at least trying to break into the industry.

Yeah, it was no wonder this place cost three hundred dollars a month.

We found a pair of benches in the weight room that were unoccupied. As I was looking for dumbbells to work out with, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I grabbed it, my chest tightening when I saw the email header.

Background Check Results – Damon Reyes

Fuck.

I stopped next to the bench as Eli slid weights onto the bar, swiping to open the email. I’d requested this weeks ago, but I’d had the wrong last name initially, which had delayed the results.

The words practically leapt off the screen and smacked me across the face.

Restraining orders. Two of them.

Aggravated assault. Two charges.

A recent eviction.

No kind of education beyond a GED.

I clenched my jaw, scanning the details. Both restraining orders were from former partners of his—one cam boy, one dancer. Both had accused him of stalking, threats, and attempted assault.

“What is it?” Eli asked, towel draped around his neck as he wiped off his forehead.

“I got Damon’s background check back.”

“Can I see?”

My initial instinct was to say ‘yes’ to any kind of ask or demand Eli made. I’d drop to my knees and kiss his bare feet if he asked. But I didn’t see the need to freak him out. It was my job to hunt this Nomad down, and I felt like I was getting close to it. That’s all Eli had to know.

“I don’t want to give you more reasons to get spooked. Just know this puts me one step closer to figuring out who’s behind Nomad.”

Eli licked his lips. He looked skeptical, a small divot appearing between his blond brows. His forehead beaded with sweat, a drop of it sliding down the side of his face. “You not telling me is already making me spooked.”

“Just trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Eli said, cocking his head. The crystal blue eyes swam with questions. “Detective.”

He had said the word teasingly, and I gave him a playful roll of my eyes, although deep down, I was beginning to grow quite fond of the way he’d call medetective. It was becoming a pet name that also triggered a certain chain of reactions that started somewhere in my chest and ended down between my thighs.

“Go,” I said with a nod to the bench. “Finish up your set so I can jump in.” I mainly wanted him to stop thinking about Damon, but I also wanted to wrap up this gym session early. Maybe I could go and confront Damon before the day was over.

“Can you spot me?”

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