Page 42 of The Swap
Oliver and I exchanged a look and his eyes softened. “Just this guy, but he loves me too much to ever hurt me.” I gave him a warm smile, so happy that when everything else was falling apart around him, he knew that he could still trust me.
“Was there anyone that Korey didn’t get along with?”
Oliver snorted. “That would take all night.” Detective Billings’ eyebrows shot up. “I spoke with the various magazine editors, photographers, and designers that I work with most often to let them know that Korey and I were no longer working together and that they needed to contact me for any jobs they had coming up instead of him. Every single one of them told me how relieved they were to not have to deal with him anymore. Apparently, Korey had a real knack for rubbing people the wrong way. Even my newest photographer, Greg, couldn’t stand him, and they only worked together a couple of times.”
Detective Rogers reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and handed them both to Oliver. “Would you mind making a list of those individuals? I don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”
Oliver took the pen and paper and began writing out the list of names. When he was finished, he handed it back to the detective. He let out a jaw-cracking yawn then and sagged his body against mine, the last of his energy draining out of him. It had been a long and stressful day. Between worrying about meeting Brooklyn and Gayle and now all this, it was a wonder he was still functioning at all.
“Okay. We’ll keep digging and see if we can come up with anything new. You go home and get some rest and let us know immediately if you think of anything else. No matter how insignificant you may think it is, we want to hear it.” He handed me his business card. I looked it over, noting both his work and cell number on there then shoved it in my pocket.
“Do you think it’s safe for him to go home? Maybe I should take him to a hotel or something,” I suggested.
Oliver looked at me and shook his head. “I really just want to be in my own bed tonight, please.”
Detective Rogers looked over at his partner who must have read his mind because he was already standing and heading for the door. “On it,” he called out over his shoulder.
“We’ll have a couple of our guys stationed outside your apartment. Anybody tries to get inside and they’ll stop them.” Oliver nodded tiredly, and I helped him to his feet, holding onto him when he swayed a bit. “Thank you for coming in and for all your help. We’re going to get this guy,” he said firmly.
I shook his hand and promised again that we’d call if we were able to think of anything. Oliver was silent the entire way home, his head facing away from me as he stared out the passenger window. I’d be surprised if he even noticed anything that was out there though. It broke my heart to see him hurting so badly.
Meanwhile, I was trying very hard not to let my horror show over the fact that a serial killer had his sights set on the man that I loved. I’d spent the first thirty-seven years of my life not knowing what it meant to be in love, but that all changed the moment I met Oliver.
I’d been fortunate enough to have love in my life. My parents loved me, despite our tendency to butt heads. Gayle and I loved each other in the protective and caring way that best friends do. I would lay down my life for Brooklyn, but I’d always known that eventually, I’d have to let her go. Oliver was the only person in my life who made my heart beat faster every time he walked in the room and whose absence could be felt like a physical presence.
I was completely, passionately, and beyond any sense of reason, in love with the man beside me. My life had become infinitely better the moment he entered it and I never wanted to let that go. I never wanted to lose him. Especially not to a madman.
It was after midnight by the time we got home. I parked in front of Oliver’s apartment and turned off the car. My eyes scanned the area, paying close attention to the shadowed corners of the building in case a monster was lurking there. I’d never felt so aware of my surroundings as I did right then.
“Do you think it’s my fault?” My head whipped over to Oliver. It was the first time he’d spoken since leaving the station and I cringed as I heard the dull, detached tone of his voice. It sounded all wrong coming from a man who was always so full of energy and sass.
“Do I think what’s your fault, baby?”
I watched him swallow. “Is it my fault they’re all dead? All those guys whose pictures were hanging on the wall? Korey?” A sob tore from his chest and his face crumpled as he began to cry.
I undid his seatbelt and then pulled him into my arms, as much as the armrest would allow. It was uncomfortable, and I wasn’t anywhere near as close to him as I wanted to be, but I’d be damned if I was going to allow him to blame himself for what that sick bastard had done.
“You listen to me. You are not to blame for any of this. Whoever is doing this is sick and evil and he alone is responsible for those men’s deaths. He decided to commit these unspeakable crimes, not you. So, I don’t want to hear another word about this being your fault because it’s just not true, okay?” He nodded, but I could tell he still wasn’t convinced. I sighed. I knew it was going to take some time, but I’d spend each and every day repeating those words if that’s what it would take for him to finally believe me.
I climbed from the car and went around to open his door. There was a black SUV parked nearby and I spotted two men inside. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, but then one of them gave a subtle nod and I realized they must be the undercover police officers Detective Rogers had sent over.
I felt better knowing they were there, but only marginally. If it were up to me, I’d have the entire L.A.P.D. camping outside his door. I made a mental note to hire a private security detail first thing in the morning. When it came to the safety of the man I loved, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I got Oliver inside and he waited quietly as I went around and made sure all the doors and windows were locked. I followed him down the hallway toward his room, but he turned and stepped into the bathroom instead. I leaned my shoulder against the doorway as he started the shower. I probably should’ve given him some privacy and I would’ve given it to him if he’d asked for it, but until he did, I just couldn’t force myself to let him out of my sight.
I watched as he pulled his designer suit jacket off and let it drop to the floor, too tired to care what happened to it. The rest of his clothes followed and then he looked over at me and held his hand out. I was standing in front of him a second later, removing my own clothes and tossing them on the floor. My arms went around him the second we were in the shower and he buried his face in my neck, his cries ringing out, louder than the sound of the water spraying down over our bodies.
I held him in my arms, gently rocking him back and forth as he cried for those men and for Korey who despite his betrayal, deserved better than to be brutally murdered and discarded in some dumpster like day-old garbage. Tears flowed silently down my own cheeks, the evidence of them quickly washed away by the shower. I cried for Oliver and what this had already done to him, how this would affect him in the future and for the utter helplessness I felt.
I washed him gently and then quickly washed myself before stepping out and drying us both off. I helped him into bed and turned off the light before crawling in beside him. “I need you,” Oliver whispered in the dark.
“I’m right here, baby,” I answered, pulling him toward me.
“No. Ineedyou,” he reemphasized.
“Are you sure? I can just hold…”
“Please, Samuel. I feel empty right now. Like all the evilness has stolen everything good that used to be there. I need to feel your warmth and your love. I need you over me and inside of me until all I can feel, all I can think about isyou.”
