Be Loved (At Last, The Beloved Series Book 3)

by Stella Starling

  “Don’t worry. Brandon’s going to make sure nothing happens to the guy. He’s set him up with one of his ex-Army buddies who works for our Uncle Miles. You know, the one who runs the personal security firm? And, trust me, if Peter tries to follow through on any of his threatening bullshit, there will be a use of force to stop him. Brandon isn’t going to have any problem with that.”

  “Sure, but that’s still not him doing it. I mean, I’m not saying he wouldn’t—”

  “Right, ’cause he would,” Gabe said, cutting him off. “I mean, sure, he’s going to go by the book, because he’s a cop, and he’s going to look for other answers when possible, because he’s Brandon, but a threat to someone who matters to him? To you, for example? He’s not going to hesitate to do whatever is necessary.”

  Shane shivered, not wanting to believe that it would come to that. Still—he glanced at his phone where he’d left it sitting on the counter—the moment of panic he’d had when he couldn’t call out still made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Peter’s actions were starting to go beyond those of just a disgruntled ex and veering into bunny-boiling territory.

  “Thanks,” he said, reminding himself that for all the crazy, Peter still claimed to love him… so he wouldn’t actually try to hurt him, right? Still, “I really appreciate you coming over like this, Gabe.”

  Gabe’s momentarily grim expression morphed back into his usual carefree one. “Whatever, dude. You know I just came over so I could kick your ass at Mario Kart. And when I do? You’re gonna owe me another sandwich.”

  Shane laughed. “Sounds like you’re about to go hungry, Gabe.”

  “Oh, I’ll show you hungry. Hungry for a win.”

  Shane led the way into the living room, setting up Brandon’s old N64 and claiming the vintage controller for himself, more than happy to lose himself in a few hours of mindless gaming.

  Knowing the Byrne boys had his back was reassuring, but still, he couldn’t let himself think too hard about how far Peter might be willing to take things. Because he believed Gabe. He had no doubt that Brandon would protect him if Peter tried anything beyond his current intimidation and scare tactics, and it was good to know that this other guy was protecting the owner of bLoved.

  But, if Peter’s crazy-factor escalated, who would protect Brandon?

  Chapter 14

  Brandon

  Brandon left the station when his shift ended, intending to drive straight home, but the more he thought about the emotional bullying Peter was putting Shane through, the tighter his grip got on the steering wheel. He didn’t trust Peter not to take it to another level, and he was beyond grateful that Gabe had been available to stay with Shane until he could get home.

  When he approached the exit for Peter’s house, that tight grip twisted without a conscious decision, directing his patrol car off the freeway. His mind kept replaying the tight, controlled panic he’d heard in Shane’s voice on the phone, and by the time he’d turned down Peter’s street, he was seething. Whatever Peter was playing at, he needed to understand that he wasn’t going to get Shane back.

  Or hurt him… ever.

  Brandon didn’t have a plan, and he certainly wasn’t there in an official capacity, but as soon as he parked the car and turned it off, his feet hit the pavement and carried him toward Peter’s door before he had a chance to second-guess himself. It opened just as Brandon got to the short walkway in front of the house, and Peter’s lip curled into a sneer as he stepped outside, his body language screaming confrontation.

  “What do you think you’re doing here, Brandon Byrne? Shouldn’t you be rushing home, panting after my boyfriend?”

  His boyfriend? Peter was delusional. Brandon knew for a fact that Shane had told Peter it was over, but underneath Peter’s contemptuous sneer, there was a hint of something desperate. Like a caged animal with nothing to lose.

  “Shane isn’t your concern anymore,” Brandon said through gritted teeth, stopping just out of arm’s reach from Peter. He tried to take a slow breath, reminding himself that he needed to be alert and prepared for anything. While Peter hadn’t resorted to physical violence yet, Brandon could easily see that changing if he snapped. “I’m here to remind you of that, and to tell you to stay away from him.”

  Peter laughed. A dry, bitter sound that intensified the burning light in his cold eyes.

  “Stay away from him? I haven’t seen my Shane in too long already, but I’m a patient man. I’ve let you keep him from me for now, cop, because I know he’ll come back to me. I might be worried if he was with someone else, but you,” he looked Brandon up and down, the scorn on his face matching his voice, “you aren’t a threat to our love. He’s told me all about you. You’ve always wanted, but never taken. You’re weak. He may be cowering behind the shield of your friendship now, but he’ll never see you as anything more than that. Soon, he’ll start to miss the strength of my love, the satisfaction of being in my bed—”

  “He’s not missing anything,” Brandon said flatly, cutting off Peter’s rant.

  An ugly look came over Peter’s face, twisting it into something that gave Brandon pause. Something that reminded him that—if he was right about Peter—this was a man who had broken into Kelly Davis’s home, invaded the privacy of a stranger’s bedroom and then hovered over him and his lover while they’d been sleeping.

  A man who had taken the time to sew a sinister promise into Kelly’s pillow.

  Peter wasn’t just a jealous boyfriend or an obsessive stalker, he was a man who could become dangerous… dangerous to Shane.

  “You’ll never be able to give him what I did,” Peter hissed, stalking toward him.

  Brandon stood his ground. As unhinged as he suspected Peter was, if the man attacked him, that would give him the justification he needed to take him in.

  “If you even try,” Peter continued, stopping close enough to make his stance a clear challenge. “I’ll kill you.”

  “Are you threatening an officer of the law?” Brandon asked, unblinking.

  Peter laughed, backing away as he did so. “Oh, no, Brandon Byrne. I wouldn’t ‘threaten’ you. I was simply stating a fact. Shane is mine, and while I’ve allowed him to spend some time catching up with you, his oldest friend, I won’t put up with it forever. And if you ever do decide to make a move on my Shane? If you ever pushed him for what is mine, make no mistake, I won’t threaten you about it, I promise you: if you touch him, I’ll kill you. If you try to sleep with him, you’re dead.”

  “Shane is his own person, Peter. He’s not yours, any more than he’s mine—”

  “He’s not yours,” Peter exploded, his face going from pale and eerily serene to red and blotchy as he ranted. “He never will be. He’s mine. My love. My boyfriend. My fiancé, soon. My husband. Mine. We’re meant to be, and anyone who interferes in that is going to pay, Brandon Byrne.”

  Brandon’s eyes narrowed, images of Shane in his bed, of love—the real kind, not the obsessive insanity Peter was spouting off about—dancing through his mind. A part of him wanted to fling the truth in Peter’s face, but something about Peter’s wildly swinging emotions warned him that that might not be the smartest move. Sure, he could probably goad Peter into attacking him. He could bring him into the station on assault charges. But would that protect Shane?

  Because, eventually, if that’s all Brandon could pin him with, Peter would get out.

  “I’m going to make you a promise, too,” Brandon said, keeping a tight rein on himself. It was rare that someone provoked him enough to make him want to resort to physical violence, but, with Peter, it was all too easy to imagine the feel of his fist connecting with Peter’s face.

  Too easy… and too satisfying.

  Brandon took a breath, forcing his fists to unclench. “You need to stay away from Shane.”

  And from Kelly Davis, but Brandon bit that back just in time. Clueing Peter in to the fact that they were on to him before he had evidence would only make his job harder.
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br />   Peter opened his mouth as if he was going to respond, but Brandon didn’t give him the chance.

  “You need to stop contacting him. Period. If you don’t, Peter, I promise you, I’ll stop you myself.”

  Rage washed over Peter’s face, but then, instead of another emotional explosion or any kind of attack, he suddenly laughed, the tension flowing out of him. “Your promises mean nothing, cop,” he said, sounding almost jovial. “I’ll get what I want in the end.”

  “No, you won’t, Peter.”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed, and even though he maintained the cheerful look on his face, his next words were chilling. “If I don’t, you can rest assured that I won’t let you have it, either.”

  Brandon snapped. That had been a clear threat against Shane, and without meaning to, he had Peter pressed up against the doorframe, his shirt twisted in Brandon’s fists and his face so close that he could feel Peter’s hot breath wash over him.

  “If you try to hurt him, law or no law, I’ll take you down.”

  Peter smiled, but his eyes were flat. “I love Shane,” he said, making no move to try to escape Brandon’s grip. “Why would I ever hurt him when I know that he still loves me, too? When I know that he’s still loyal to me? And, since that will be forever, he’ll never have to worry about me hurting him… even now, when he’s trying my patience.”

  Brandon’s fists tightened, and he leaned in a little harder against Peter, getting a tiny amount of satisfaction from seeing the other man wince. But then he forced his grip to loosen. Peter really was insane, but pushing him now could put Shane at risk… as would letting Peter know the truth.

  Shane was never going back to him. Shane loved Brandon.

  Peter’s eyes suddenly narrowed, and his breath came out in a long, sibilant hiss, coating Brandon with a minty, medicinal smell that made his skin crawl. “You’re fucking him,” Peter accused, that mottled color rising in his face again, hard and fast. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill him—”

  “No,” Brandon interrupted, forcing himself not to react. He let go of Peter’s shirt, taking a step back. “I’m not.”

  As quickly as Peter’s rage had appeared, it dissipated. Peter believed him, and, in a way, Brandon suspected that it was because what he’d said was true. The intimacy that he and Shane shared went far beyond simply “fucking,” and while he could and would say whatever he needed to in order to buy the time to deal with Peter the right way, he knew that nothing about him smacked of lying.

  For all Peter’s overuse of the word “love,” he didn’t know what it really was. He wouldn’t recognize that it colored every one of Brandon’s words and thoughts and actions when it came to Shane.

  And Peter’s inability to see the truth would keep Shane safe from him.

  “Of course you’re not,” Peter said, smoothing his shirt and then crossing his arms over his chest. He gave Brandon a condescending look. “Now get off my property, cop. You know you have no cause to be here, and it’s time you ran home so you can pine over my boyfriend some more.”

  Brandon reached deep to pull up the epic patience Shane always accused him of having. Nothing he could say or do here was going to get through to Peter, and anything he wanted to do was only going to make things worse. What he needed was evidence to pin on Peter. Evidence that he was harassing Shane was a possibility, but —given the severity and nature of the threats against Kelly Davis from bLoved—if Brandon could make that stick, he’d be much more likely to be able to put Peter away.

  He wanted a future with Shane, and one in which they weren’t always looking over their shoulders for Peter’s next move. He had to get the hell out of there before he did something he’d regret.

  Or something that put that future in jeopardy.

  “Watch yourself, Peter,” Brandon said, turning to leave. “Because I guarantee you that I am.”

  Peter laughed. “Watch all you want, cop. I’ll always be smarter than you, though. Just another reason Shane will never settle for you when he has me. Be sure to remind him that I love him. Tell him I’m waiting for him.”

  The man was deranged, and his calm certainty was far more unnerving than his ranting fury. It was clear that his “love” for Shane could snap at any moment, becoming something entirely different.

  Maybe even something deadly.

  Brandon shuddered as he got back behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb. He could feel Peter’s eyes following him, and as he turned back in the direction of the freeway, he scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling like he needed to shower just to wash away the contamination of Peter’s obsession.

  Peter’s version of love was sick, and Shane deserved to know what real, true love could be like.

  He wasn’t going to let Peter steal that from them, and if that meant he had to walk away when he wanted to unleash his own fury on the man, he’d do it. If it meant he had to make sure the real nature of his relationship with Shane stayed under the radar until he could bring Peter in on legitimate charges, he could do that, too. He could do whatever was necessary if it meant keeping Shane safe, but one way or another, Brandon would end Peter’s threats.

  And he’d do it the right way, so he’d only have to do it once.

  Chapter 15

  Shane

  Shane hit the doorbell, wishing he wasn’t wearing such a bulky coat. He could feel the pressure of Brandon’s hand on the small of his back as they waited for Clayton or David to answer their door, but he was greedy for the heat of it, too. Still, January in Chicago wasn’t the time to forgo practicality for fashion.

  Or, in this case, just because he’d become addicted to the constant affection of Brandon’s touch.

  Brandon leaned in, planting a kiss on the back of his neck as if to prove that his psychic powers had just kicked in. “Love you,” he whispered.

  Brandon liked to remind him of it often, and Shane smiled, leaning back against him as something warm and wonderful blossomed in his chest that made the heavy winter coat unnecessary, after all. Other men had told Shane that they loved him before, but Brandon was the only one who made Shane feel like the words were a no-strings gift, rather than some sort of contract where he had to fulfill his half, too.

  But, really, as much as he adored hearing it, he didn’t even need the words. Brandon’s every action was a declaration of his love. Sometimes a little over-the-top sappy, sometimes just comfortable.

  Sometimes so hot it left Shane gasping.

  He turned to face Brandon, and Brandon laughed.

  “Stop thinking dirty thoughts, Shane,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss him anyway. “You’re going to make it hard to get through dinner.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Shane grinned. “I like making things hard for you, Brandon.”

  Brandon got a decidedly wicked look on his face, but before he could retaliate, Clayton and David’s door started to open.

  It stopped, though, with just a narrow, three-inch gap showing. “The field mouse crows at midnight,” David said, peering out through the crack with a distinctly mischievous gleam in his eye.

  “Do field mice actually crow?” Brandon asked, cocking his head to the side as he appeared to ponder the ridiculous question.

  “Oh my God, David,” Shane said, laughing. “It’s freezing. Let us inside.”

  The door opened another couple of inches, and David stroked his goatee, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to need the correct response, Shane, otherwise I won’t know if it’s safe to let you inside.”

  Shane rolled his eyes. “This isn’t cloak and dagger, David. It’s a dinner party.”

  “Don’t spoil his fun, honey,” Brandon said, laughing. Then, to David, “The prairie dog answers the field mouse’s call. Ka-kaw.”

  Shane snorted as David swung the door open, grinning at Brandon.

  “You made that up,” Shane said, turning to Brandon with a laugh as Brandon handed David the wine they’d brought. “Do you even know what a prairie dog is? Because I’m pretty sure they don’
t sound like that.”

  “A dog,” Brandon deadpanned. “From the prairies.”

  “It’s a rodent,” Clayton said, shuddering as he walked up behind his boyfriend and took their coats. “And nobody cares what rodents sound like.”

  “Well, David obviously does,” Brandon said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have used it as our spy phrase.”

  “Oh my God, you guys actually preplanned this? What are you, twelve years old?”

  Brandon grinned. “Didn’t you get David’s text?” he asked, pulling out his phone and flashing the screen at Shane.

  The day after Peter had sent the roses, Brandon had come home with a new phone for Shane. He’d asked Shane to keep his old one charged and active so they could continue to have a record of Peter’s messages, but he’d wanted Shane to use the new one for the duration.

  Shane had no problem with that whatsoever, but—as he pulled the phone he’d brought out to check for David’s message—he suspected that he’d grabbed the old one out of habit.

  “Did I send it to your old number?” David asked, frowning.

  “No, I think you probably sent it to the right one,” Shane said, glancing at his screen for confirmation.

  Nothing from David, but there were another few messages from Peter, which meant it was his old phone. He immediately turned the screen off and tucked it away again, not wanting to ruin his appetite.

  “Yep, it was my fault. This is the one Peter keeps texting. Sorry I missed your message, David.”

  “No worries,” David said, ushering them toward the kitchen. “You’re dating a cop now, so he’s got all the spy stuff down.”

  “And you know I’ve always got your back,” Brandon said, his hand finding its way to the same spot it had occupied out on the porch.

  Better, this time, though, because Shane could feel it.

  “I’m tickled you guys could make it,” David said, handing off the wine to Clayton in a well-coordinated dance. “It gave me the perfect excuse to do the prosciutto-stuffed chicken in mushroom sauce that Clay keeps bugging me about.”