Exasperating (Elite Protection Services Book 3)

by Onley James

  Calder emerged from his bedroom and sprawled on the opposite end of the sofa, kicking his legs up and tangling them with Robby’s without acknowledging him in any other way. Calder didn’t glance up, intently focused on whatever was on the screen of the laptop balanced on his flat belly. Robby hesitated before sliding lower on the sofa, resting his head on the arm and slotting his legs on either side of Calder’s. The older man’s foot began to idly rub against Robby’s inner thigh, not in any overtly flirty way but in a familiar way, a boyfriend way, like he just needed to touch him. It warmed Robby’s insides.

  Robby was cycling through the channels when a picture of his attacker came into view in the upper righthand corner over the shoulder of a woman in a red blazer with a head full of blonde hair and a serious expression. He froze, turning up the sound until her measured voice filled the room.

  “A home invasion turned deadly just forty-eight hours ago when the occupant of the residence, Kid’s Channel star Robby Shaw, allegedly killed an assailant who forced his way into his home. While there has been no confirmation, sources say the weapon was believed to be a cheese knife and that this man could have been sent by none other than Shaw’s own father, the notorious leader of the Magnus Dei church, Jeb Shaw. Detectives could neither confirm nor deny these allegations but say if anybody can help identify this man they should contact LA county’s homicide division and that, for now, the investigation remains open.”

  “Thanks, Sharon,” the other anchor said as the picture disappeared and another appeared behind the man’s head. “In related news, Magnus Dei leader, Jeb Shaw, has himself released a statement regarding the incident. Here’s what he had to say.”

  Robby’s stomach sloshed as his father came into view wearing a suit that probably cost more than a Kia. “Folks, it’s a sad day when a man has to defend himself against slanderous allegations from his own blood, but I’m afraid that’s where we’re at. I’ve never been anything but supportive of my son’s career and even brought him out to Los Angeles myself so he could fulfill his dream of being an actor. To hear now that he believes I’m somehow capable of sending a man to assault him is not only insulting but outrageous. I can’t help but feel this is some kind of retaliation against me for not condoning his deviant lifestyle of sodomy, drugs, and alcohol. Had I known I was sending my boy out to Sodom and Gomorrah I would have simply kept him close. I can only hope my son turns away from the devil and this wicked lifestyle and comes back to Jesus’s light. I don’t wish to get attorneys involved but if he keeps bringing these lies against me and the church I’ve built up from nothing, I’ll have no choice. Please, Obidiah, call me. Your mother and I are here for you. Your brothers and sisters are here for you. It’s not too late.”

  The video faded away, and the news anchor cleared his throat. “Well, there you have it. We’ll continue to cover the story as it unfolds.”

  Robby blinked back tears, his face on fire, humiliation consuming him. Calder was no longer looking at his screen but at Robby. He thought about bolting. He couldn’t stand the thought of crying in front of Calder again. He’d cried more in the last week than he’d cried in his entire life, and Calder had been there every single time. Robby couldn’t even imagine what he thought of him. When his phone rang in his pocket, he jumped, heart sinking, as he saw his attorney calling once again.

  “Hello?” he managed.

  “Robby, sorry to call twice in one day, but the detectives want us back for more questions tomorrow morning. Meet me out front at nine-thirty so we can walk in together.”

  “Y-Yes, sir,” Robby stuttered. “Did they say why they wanted to talk to me?”

  “No but don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine. You just listen to me and do as I say, and everything will be right as rain. See you tomorrow.”

  Robby set the phone on the table and attempted to flee to the bedroom, but Calder raised a leg, barring him from standing. “Hey. Where are you going? Are you okay? Who was that?”

  “They want me back to answer more questions tomorrow morning,” Robby said, hot tears spilling over his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away before Calder saw them, but it was no use.

  “Okay. Don’t panic.”

  Tears flowed freely now, and his nose started to run. “Easy for you to say. You aren’t the one who’s being accused of murder and threatened with a law suit.”

  He sniffled, looking at his hands, too embarrassed to look at Calder.

  “Come here, angel. Please don’t cry,” Calder crooned in a voice so sympathetic it only made Robby feel worse.

  Robby just shook his head. But then Calder’s hand closed around Robby’s wrist, tugging him across the couch and into his arms. Robby didn’t quite make it all the way, his cheek resting against Calder’s stomach. It didn’t matter though, Robby could barely talk as he wailed, “I swear I don’t usually cry this much. It just seems like my life is falling apart.”

  “Shh, you have the right to be emotional, sweetness. This is a lot for anybody to take.”

  “You wouldn’t cry at the thought of going to prison,” Robby said between racking sobs. “I don’t want to go to jail. I won’t do well in prison. Look at me.”

  Calder’s fingers combed through his hair, and his stomach jiggled with laughter. “I don’t know about that, angel. I was a cop for over a decade. We definitely don’t do well in prison. I might shed more than a few tears at the notion,” he said. “But I promise you, I’ll never let you see the inside of a jail cell, even if I have to smuggle you out of the country to some place without extradition. But I sincerely doubt it will come to that.”

  Robby knew Calder wasn’t serious, but it made him feel better anyway. His panic slowed, even if his tears didn’t. Robby wrapped his arms around Calder’s waist, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of the older man’s skin and even the sound of his stomach growling sooth him. He didn’t open his eyes again until the sound of the Paramount music swelled into the room.

  Robby took in the soft, slightly fuzzy movie on the screen. “What’s this?”

  Calder glanced down at him with a smile. “Vertigo. We’re going to fix this insane lack of knowledge you have about classic films. Now, pay attention.”

  Robby wiggled a bit higher to snuggle under Calder’s chin. His fingers stayed in Robby’s hair, but his free arm came around Robby’s back as he covered them both with the black blanket from the back of the sofa. If he could have burrowed under Calder’s skin, he would have. Nobody had ever held him before. Not when he cried and not when he was happy. Positive touches had never been a part of his life and he craved it more than anything. His parents didn’t believe in physical affection. If only they had carried the same convictions about punishments. Robby forced thoughts of his parents and lawsuits and police officers aside to focus on Calder and the movie he was so eager to show him. He deserved a few hours of peace.

  Robby wondered idly if the police provided barf bags. Being back in the interrogation room had his stomach sloshing. Why did everything smell like stale air and sweaty socks? Why was it so cold in there? Shouldn’t the cold have killed the smell at least? His attorney, Mr. Fields, sat on his left just like last time. Calder sat to his right, his hand resting on Robby’s knee under the table.

  Mr. Fields had advised Robby not to answer any questions unless he said it was okay and not to volunteer any information. He’d also somehow managed to get them to allow Calder to sit in on the questioning provided he said nothing. Robby almost wished he’d brought Casanova. He always calmed Robby’s frazzled nerves.

  There were now two detectives in the room, a tall man with a bald head, flawless umber skin, a full beard, and eyes so brown they looked black. He dressed casually in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, his gun at his hip, and his badge on a lanyard around his neck. He’d identified himself as Detective Mayhew. The detective from the other day was there as well, still pale, pudgy, and sweaty, looking like he had worn the same rumbled shirt and dress pants since the last time they’d inter
viewed him.

  Once everybody had introduced themselves, Mayhew flipped open a folder. “Mr. Shaw, can you please walk me through the events of the other night, just so I’m up to speed?” he asked, clicking his pen and pressing it to a paper within the folder like he was going to take notes.

  “Again?” Robby asked before looking at Mr. Fields.

  “My client has already been through this story twice. I think that’s enough. I assume you brought us down here for more than just that?”

  “Mr. Shaw. Tell us why you think your father sent somebody to kill you?”

  The question hit Robby like a bucket of ice water, sending shockwaves over his body and causing goosebumps to erupt on his skin. His brows knitted together, his voice raising an octave. “What? I never said that.”

  Mayhew leaned back, lacing his fingers together on the table. “You said your father was the only person you could think of who would want to hurt you.”

  Robby was shaking his head. “But I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words.”

  The look on Mayhew’s face made Robby feel like his insides were shriveling up. It was the same type of look Brother Samuel would give them when they cried during punishment. This sort of sneering condescension. “Tell the truth. You suspected your father because you know the man you killed. Don’t you?”

  “What?” Robby said again, bewildered, looking to his attorney for some kind of help.

  Mr. Fields just tilted his head. “You can answer.”

  Robby’s hands flailed in a helpless gesture. “No. I have no idea who he is…was, and I never said my father wanted to kill me.”

  Mayhew didn’t even acknowledge his answer. It was almost like he didn’t even care what Robby said. “How can you be so sure that the man from your apartment was sent by your father?”

  Robby bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying, trying to focus on Calder’s thumb stroking the inside of his knee. “I’m not sure of anything.”

  Mayhew made some kind of notation on his notepad, but Robby couldn’t see what it said.

  “Is it true that three days prior to killing the man in your apartment, you assaulted a police officer and were arrested?” the detective asked.

  Robby’s gaze flicked to his attorney. Finally, Mr Fields spoke, his tone dripping with boredom. “Gentlemen, why are you asking questions you already know the answer to? This whole thing is ridiculous, really. It’s not my client’s job to figure out who broke into his apartment and why. It’s yours. If you can’t do that, perhaps you should find another profession.”

  Mayhew smiled this slick smile, like they had some kind of ace up their sleeve. “We have reason to believe that your client is lying to us about knowing the victim. We have recently uncovered some evidence that says the victim and your client were seen together prior to the night of the break-in.”

  Robby shook his head, his voice cracking, “No! No way. Not possible.”

  Mayhew once more ignored Robby’s outburst. “Tell us about the night you assaulted Patrolman Penski. The night of the eleventh.”

  Robby licked his lower lip, his leg tapping double time beneath the table as he started to sweat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I-I can’t.”

  Mayhew arched a brow at Robby, expression curious. “Why is that?”

  “I-I blacked out. I don’t remember anything about that night at all.”

  “Seems convenient that you can’t remember assaulting a police officer with a sex toy,” Mayhew spit, his expression bordering on disgusted.

  Robby could feel himself getting emotional. “Does it? Because it doesn’t feel convenient. Some guy breaks into my apartment, tries to kill my dog and do god knows what to me, and I’m the one being interrogated. What the fuck is going on?”

  “Relax, angel. They’re just trying to get you riled up.”

  “Quiet,” Detective Grady snapped. “Or I’ll have you removed.”

  “You have me removed and this line of questioning ceases. Period. As for the assault charge, that officer assaulted him. He pepper sprayed him and tazed him with enough force to leave a wound that still hasn’t healed,” Calder growled. “That patrolman should be thanking his lucky stars we didn’t file an excessive force complaint…yet.”

  Robby’s heart felt light enough to float from his body. He couldn’t remember a time when anybody had ever defended him like that. Ever. Including his own attorney who seemed to finally come to his senses. “Gentlemen, I think this has gone far enough. Are you planning on arresting my client?”

  The detectives looked at each other before Detective Grady shook his head. “He’s free to leave…for now.”

  “Excellent. Let’s go.”

  Just like last time, Mr. Fields said his goodbyes on the steps of the police station. Robby managed to keep it together until he’d snapped his seatbelt into place in Calder’s truck. Then he just burst into tears. “I don’t know that man. I’ve never seen him before. What evidence could they possibly have that says I did?”

  Calder gathered him into his arms awkwardly, pressing kisses against his temple and forehead. “I hate when you cry, angel. You’re breaking my heart. I’ve got you. Okay? We’re gonna get this figured out. You hired me to keep you safe, but I’m also a private investigator. Let’s go home and do a little digging. I have a friend who can help us figure out what they know. But please, please don’t cry.”

  Calder’s words made Robby ache in a way he’d never be able to describe. It was like he was in a completely different kind of fake relationship, one where Calder would be every single thing Robby had always wanted but never dared hope for, but only for a limited time. It was perfect. Calder was perfect. But there was a clock ticking over their heads.

  Robby had told himself that nothing could be worse than pretending to be Elijah Dunne’s family-friendly boyfriend, but he was wrong. So wrong. Losing Calder was going to hurt like losing a limb, a phantom pain that would twitch and burn long after Calder moved on from Robby for good.

  Calder sat in the living room reading the ME report. Beside him, Robby napped under the fluffy black blanket they’d used yesterday, his head resting on Calder’s thigh, Casanova snuffling like a winded gremlin in Calder’s ear as he perched on the back of the sofa behind his head. The tv was on, playing a movie he’d turned on then quickly ignored, when Webster emailed the medical examiner’s report.

  Calder had pulled up the report on his tablet, unwilling to disturb the peacefully sleeping boy just to go get his laptop from the bedroom. As he read, he stroked Robby, his fingers playing with the boy’s hair, mapping the shell of his ear, tracing his jawline. Calder didn’t want to admit how much he enjoyed this…connection he had with Robby. It seemed foreign to feel so close to another person. He’d spent years perfecting the art of being physically close to somebody while avoiding intimacy like the plague. But it was impossible to keep Robby at arm’s length. No matter how much Calder tried to think of him as temporary, it just felt like a lie.

  When he cupped Robby’s cheek, the boy nuzzled into Calder’s palm and sighed, seeking his touch even in sleep. Calder never would have guessed that the one person to sneak past his defenses was this complete mess of a kid and his ugly as sin dog, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He had a job to do. He’d figure out how to untangle himself later.

  His phone buzzed and his stomach dropped as the name of the funeral home appeared on his screen. He ignored the call, but he couldn’t ignore the guilt eating a hole through his belly. He couldn’t avoid them forever. They insisted there was nobody else. He knew it was true. He’d looked far and wide, but if anybody had ever loved the girl, they were now long gone. He was all she’d had, and even in death, he was still letting her down.

  Robby rolled over, rubbing his face against Calder’s leg, before sighing deep and sinking back into sleep. The boy was exhausted. He’d cried for an hour before sleep had finally come. Calder had tried to make him feel better, had wanted him to understand that Calder wouldn’t let anythin
g bad happen, even if it meant breaking the law. Hell, even if it meant breaking every law. The kid had been through enough in his life. There was no way Calder was letting them add a prison sentence to that hardship. Though he doubted it would come to that.

  Calder took a sip of his coffee and turned his attention back to the report. It was depressingly unenlightening. The assailant who’d entered Robby’s apartment had a heart two sizes too big. Literally. According to the pathologist, Dr. Gupta, if Robby hadn’t killed him, his next cheeseburger probably would have. Three out of four of his major arteries were occluded by plaque. She’d also noted severe cirrhosis of the liver, diabetes, and a suspicious mass on the man’s pancreas. What she hadn’t noted was a burn mark in the shape of a cross on the man’s foot.

  Calder wasn’t sure if that meant Robby’s father hadn’t sent the man or if Jeb Shaw was just smart enough to avoid detection by not sending someone bearing the mark of his cultish church. It also did nothing to help explain the detective claiming they had evidence that Robby had met the man before the night of the break-in. Were they bluffing? He doubted it. They wouldn’t have tag-teamed Robby like that in interrogation if they truly believed Robby’s story. Something had led them to believe Robby and this John Doe had met before. Calder needed to figure out what they knew and how they knew it.

  As soon as they’d gotten into Calder’s truck, he’d texted Webster and asked him to run a search on Robby’s social media for the night of his arrest since it seemed to be the only day the boy couldn’t account for. He said he’d compile a report and see if he could create some kind of cyber timeline to map Robby’s whereabouts that night to try to determine where he could have run into a fifty-something-year-old stranger. Was it a random encounter? Crazed fan? Had he followed Robby home? How did he get past security at Robby’s apartment complex? Had they had an altercation at the club? On the street? Had the man also taken a dildo to the face? Calder imagined if a cop was mad enough to taze and pepper spray Robby, John Doe might not have been above murder.