Page 76 of What We May Be

Chapter Twenty-One

Trevor paced the length of the conference room for the—he’d lost count an hour ago—time. It had been multiple hours since Abel had dropped him off at the station, and while he appreciated Diego’s and Jaylen’s efforts to make him comfortable and keep him distracted, no amount of pastries or coffee, no amount of lifting weights in the gym, no amount of answering work emails and sending lesson plans to substitute lecturers was going to make him forget Abel’s words at the motel.

“Craig Rowan… They found him in the pool along with twelve dozen red roses.”

Christ, Charlie was right. This did have something to do with their family, and while she and Sean were out there being useful, he was stuck at the fucking station. The fact that he couldn’t be there for her, couldn’t tackle this with her like they had Cal’s letter, was maddening. Granted, Sean was with her, which was some comfort, but he wanted to be there too. The woman he loved, his best friend, was hurting, and he couldn’t be there for her.

“So it’s your day to pace?”

Trevor whipped around, surprised and dismayed to find Sean in the conference room doorway. Without Charlie. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Charlie?”

Sean closed the door behind him. “Marsh is with her. She’s safe. They’re on their way to keep an eye on Julian’s funeral.”

“Fuck.” He raked his hands through his hair, fisting it behind his neck. “That’s today? I didn’t send—”

“Trev, no one expected you to send flowers.” Sean rounded the table, coming to his side and gently taking his hand. His thumbs smoothed a pattern over the back of his palm. “You need to take a breather.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”

Sean shot him a judging glare. “No, you’ve been stewing.”

“Because I don’t know what’s going on.” His gaze drifted over Sean’s shoulder in the direction of Charlie’s office, and he wished like hell she was in there, working too damn hard like always, running herself ragged trying to do all the things. Like going to Tracy’s funeral, even if it was in an official capacity. He should be the one doing that. He should be with her. “I need to be helping somehow.” He returned his gaze to Sean and gestured at the room around them. “More than this.”

Sean spun out the closest chair and nudged Trevor into it. “I’ll catch you up.” He lowered himself into the adjacent chair. “Then I’ll tell you how you can help.”

“Is she okay?”

“No.” Sean talked over his curse. “But she’s distracted, at least for an hour or so, and Marsh is the best backup she could have besides me.”

He jammed an index finger against the table in front of Sean. “Then why the fuck are you here?” He hated how accusing he sounded, how rough his voice was toward Sean, especially after last night, but his frustration needed an outlet, and Sean was there.

He was strong enough to take it and knew Trevor well enough not to take offense. He scooted closer, a knee braced against Trevor’s under the table, an arm stretched across the back of his chair. “One, to check on you. How are you?”

“A fucking mess,” Trevor admitted. No use mincing words. Sean had read him right from the second—

Sean’s mouth pressed against his, lips rough and demanding, parting Trevor’s and coaxing his tongue to play. The gentle, playful, confident kiss silenced the rambling in Trevor’s head for a few blissful moments. “What was that for?” he asked as Sean drew back.

“Because I wanted to. And because what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to make things any less messy.”

Trevor eyed the hand Sean placed on his thigh. “You know I’m on to you and Charlie and this containment thing. How you box me in and minimize the damage when I’m upset. I’ve always been on to it.”

“We do what we can for each other.” Sean smiled, tired but true. “That’s why it works, why we work.”

The last of the frustration gusts went out of Trevor’s sails and he slumped in his chair. He braced an elbow on the armrest and rested his head in his hand. “Get on with the messy part.”

Sean ripped the Band-Aid off. “Craig was pushed off a starting block into the pool at HU. His hands and feet were bound, and cinder blocks were used to weigh him down.”

Trevor closed his eyes. “Ophelia.”

“The killer left a video. They made Craig confess his crimes before they pushed him off the block and into the water.”

“And they knew about the party that night? That’s the basis for conspiracy?”

“The video also describes a cover-up by Mayor Rowan and Coach Teller of several alleged date rapes at a New Year’s Eve party.”

“Cheerleaders who were at an alumni party after the bowl game.” Trevor righted himself in the chair. “Nothing alleged about it.”

“That’s what Charlie said.”

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