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

by Stella Starling

  Mel snorted. “No time for that. I’ve got enough on my plate at Adler. Did I tell you I might be up for a promotion?”

  “Oh my God, no!” Shane said, genuinely thrilled. Not surprised though. Mel may not have been there long, but she was freaking brilliant. “How could you keep this from me?”

  She laughed. “Well, to be fair, I just found out about it today. And it’s definitely not a sure thing, but…”

  She launched into a much-too-scientific explanation of whatever it was that she was going to be promoted for, and Shane grinned at her enthusiasm, sipping his strawberry milkshake and feeling his heart lift as he was reminded of just how good life really was.

  Peter was just a blip on the radar, but things were starting to go right all around. Surely it was a sign that all the bullshit with Peter would wrap up soon, too. And after that?

  He’d get to love Brandon—and be loved—forever.

  Chapter 22

  Brandon

  “Byrne, we’ve got something.”

  It wasn’t Flora’s familiar voice that the police radio had crackled to life with, it was Lee Marlin with the technical team… and the words made Brandon’s heart race. The news was exactly what he’d been waiting to hear for the past three weeks.

  For all intents and purposes, Peter had disappeared completely the day Brandon had tried to take him in. Lee’s team kept hitting dead ends as they tried to track Peter online, and good, old-fashioned feet-on-the-ground detective work hadn’t yielded any clues to his whereabouts, either. The closest they’d come to a lead was an apparent freelancing contract he’d taken out of the country.

  Brandon didn’t buy it though… especially given the taunting little hints Peter kept dropping as he made a point of letting Brandon know that he was still obsessively monitoring Shane’s activities.

  “Were you able to get Peter’s location?” Brandon asked, turning the car back toward the station without waiting for the answer. He glanced over at Luis in the passenger seat, getting a nod of agreement. Luis knew what the case meant to him, and he was just as eager as Brandon was to see it ended.

  “I can’t say,” Lee said. “We got a ping on the tracking program that we attached to that trojan Peter snuck into the bLoved software last month. It originated from an IP in a city called Edmonds, over in Washington State.”

  “I know where that is,” Brandon said, a part of him selfishly relieved to hear that Peter wasn’t anywhere near Shane at the moment. “Byrne Security headquarters is located in Edmonds, and a Byrne Security bodyguard has been assigned to protect Kelly Davis. Peter’s still tracking Kelly, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t think so,” Lee said. “Does the name Jase Walker mean anything to you?”

  “Shit,” Brandon said, the profanity startling a disbelieving look out of Luis. Sometimes, though, it was warranted. “Peter’s tracking Jase? That’s the bodyguard.”

  “Can you get back here to the station?” Lee asked. “I can give you a more detailed update in person.”

  “Already on our way. We’ll see you in… twelve minutes.”

  “You think Walker still has Davis out in Washington State?” Luis asked once Lee signed off.

  Brandon grimaced. Jase hadn’t told Brandon his location, but… “Yep.”

  Peter was getting close.

  Luis raised an eyebrow, inviting more detail.

  “Today’s Jase’s birthday,” Brandon said, sighing. “He’s like family, and Uncle Miles—”

  “He’s Byrne Security, right? Your mother’s brother?”

  “Right. And, this morning, he mentioned something about expecting Jase for dinner tonight.”

  “Well, shit,” Luis said.

  Brandon glanced over, giving him a tight smile. “Exactly. But I’ll tell you what, Luis. I’m more than ready to end this bullshit with Peter. I know Jase will do whatever’s necessary to keep Kelly Davis out of harm’s way. I just hope this isn’t some kind of false trail Peter’s laying for us.”

  Luis nodded, looking uncharacteristically sober. “You need to let Walker know that Peter may be closing in on Davis’s location. If this ping isn’t a red herring, Peter’s threats show all the signs that his sanity is reaching the tipping point, and he could be in danger.”

  Brandon nodded. “I’ll get in touch with Jase as soon as we get to the station.”

  Luis cracked a smile. “That’s not the only thing you’re going to need to do when we get to the station.”

  Brandon looked at him sharply, not sure what to make of Luis’s tone. What was Brandon forgetting?

  “Come on, Brandon, think.” Luis laughed. “Okay, I know you’re not used to having someone special in your life, so I’m going to have mercy on you this time. What day is tomorrow?”

  Brandon stared at him blankly. “Wednesday?”

  Luis muttered something under his breath in Spanish, shaking his head in an exaggerated show of disappointment. Then, louder—and looking like he was trying not to laugh again—he said, “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, Brandon, so don’t say I never did anything for you. I can’t say I’m the expert on how to court another man, but I’m guessing that if you don’t have a box of chocolates and a dozen red roses waiting for your Shane when he wakes up, you’re going to end up with some serious blue balls for I don’t know how long, my friend.”

  Brandon laughed. His mind hadn’t been anywhere near there, but he appreciated his partner breaking the tension that had turned his gut into a tight knot at the news about Peter.

  “You don’t know Shane, Luis,” Brandon said, grinning as he tried to picture Shane’s reaction if Brandon were ever to give him something as off-target as chocolate and roses. Still, Luis was right. Brandon had forgotten the day. “Thanks for the heads-up, though. I’ll be sure to think of something for him.”

  Luis gave the clock on the dash a pointed look. “Well, you’d better think fast. You’ve only got another hour until it’s officially Valentine’s Day.”

  “I’m sure our love can survive until I get off shift,” Brandon said, winking at his partner. Then, more seriously, he added, “Maybe by then I’ll have something even better than candy and flowers to offer him. If this Edmonds lead pans out, Luis, maybe we can finally finish this thing.”

  Luis nodded, kissing his fingers and holding them up. “From your lips to God’s ears, Brandon. It’s past time.”

  Brandon couldn’t agree more.

  It was almost noon, and Brandon should have been dead on his feet. Instead, he was pissed off.

  The second ping Lee’s team had picked up from Peter had originated right here in Chicago—from Peter’s house, to be precise. It had come in well after Brandon and Luis were supposed to have gotten off shift, but they’d stayed to work with the technical team as they’d tracked a series of reports that had started flooding in from their tracing program after the initial ping from Edmonds.

  Something had finally clicked a couple of hours ago, and Lee had assured Brandon—in the incomprehensible language of computer geekology—that, this time, it was the kind of signal that could only originate from a user’s physical location. Brandon had shot a text off to Jase with the news, then hopped in the squad car with Luis to go bring Peter in.

  But Lee had been wrong, and after failing to find Peter where he was supposed to be—again—Brandon had also been unable to reach Jase again.

  Everything they’d seen recently pointed to Kelly Davis as Peter’s current target, and the fact that Peter had been deliberately staying off the grid for so long only to “suddenly” reveal himself in a flurry of traceable activity—feast after famine—was making Brandon’s Spidey-senses tingle in the worst way. He sent an officer out to Melody’s house to keep an eye on Shane, just in case, but he honestly didn’t think Peter’s obsession was focused on Shane. At the moment, at least.

  Still, it had been almost physically painful for Brandon not to go check on Shane himself. But if Peter was in the greater Chicago area, there was nothing more likely t
o set him off than that.

  But, as it turned out, Peter wasn’t.

  “I don’t care about jurisdiction,” Brandon said stubbornly, hot anger coursing through him at the news that Peter was finally in custody out in Washington State, currently being held under police surveillance while he underwent care at a local hospital.

  It would have been good news—the best—if Peter hadn’t done his best to make good on the threats he’d sent to Kelly Davis.

  “I’m flying out to Seattle to bring him in,” Brandon said flatly.

  “Not our jurisdiction,” Luis repeated, shaking his head with a look of sympathy. “They’ll get him back to Chicago, Brandon. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t care,” Brandon said, knowing it was unreasonable but feeling awash with the same kind of guilt he’d tried to talk Shane out of when this whole thing had started. Logically, he knew he wasn’t to blame for the fact that Peter had hurt someone, but the sick feeling threatening to swamp him was proof that his gut wasn’t convinced.

  He was the one, after all, who had let Peter slip through the cracks.

  He should have known better. He should have found a way to stop Peter back when he’d had him within arm’s reach. Hell, he should have been more forceful about speaking up years ago, when Shane had first started dating Peter.

  It was his fault, but wallowing in it wasn’t going to help anything right now. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to push aside the guilt and anger and exhaustion so he could deal with the task at hand.

  “What needs to happen to get me on a plane to Seattle, Luis?” he asked flatly. “Let’s break it down.”

  Luis gave him a long look, and, for a moment, Brandon thought he was going to have to fight his partner on this, too. Then Luis gave a sharp nod, clapping him on the shoulder.

  “Let’s start calling in favors,” Luis said. “I know what it means to you, Brandon, and you know I’ve got your back on this.”

  “Thanks, Luis,” Brandon said, meaning it. Then, with a tight smile, he added, “If you’re willing to handle the favors, I’m going to head to O’Hare.”

  “Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission?”

  “That’s right.” He paused, turning back to face Luis as he added seriously, “But I also want to do this right. I need to bring Peter in myself, but if there also needs to be an official escort from the department that has jurisdiction, I don’t have any problem with company. I don’t want Peter slipping through some kind of loophole later.”

  “Consider it done, my friend,” Luis promised. “Keep your phone on you, and pick a flight with Wi-Fi. And when you get back?”

  Brandon was already halfway out the door, but he turned, ready to promise anything.

  “You’re the one who gets to explain to Maria why I never made it home to treat her right on Valentine’s Day, Brandon.”

  Brandon almost laughed. “Consider it done,” he said, echoing Luis’s promise from earlier.

  “And you’re cat-sitting the little hellion for us,” Luis called after him. “Don’t think I’m not going to milk this for all it’s worth, Brandon. Did I mention that Maria’s looking at dogs now, too? If I can’t talk her out of Europe, we’re going to need a lot of pet sitting this summer…”

  Brandon smiled in spite of himself as Luis’s voice trailed after him. And then it hit him… it was almost over. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly, his hand straying to the reassuring weight of the necklace Shane had made for him, tucked against his heart. Relief flooded him.

  After all the misery Peter had caused, it was really and truly almost over.

  Chapter 23

  Shane

  Shane’s knee bounced impatiently as he waited for Brandon outside the security area in O’Hare. He twisted the coffee cup in his hands, tracing the familiar, green Starbucks logo, and then pulled his phone out to check the time yet again.

  It was really over.

  He lifted the cup to his lips, then put it down without drinking. It was almost cool now, and still full, but his stomach was too jittery to drink it. It was horrifying to think that Peter had actually shot someone, and it felt somehow wrong that Shane would benefit from another man’s pain. Survivor syndrome, Brandon had called it when Shane had said so on the phone. Although, thank God, in this case, everyone had survived. Still, Peter’s actions meant he’d be very likely to get locked up and stay out of Shane and Brandon’s lives for a long time to come, and the relief Shane felt about that was almost overwhelming.

  His phone buzzed, and he yanked it out, barely grabbing the coffee cup in time as his elbow knocked into it. That would have been great. Finally seeing Brandon again in person, and covered in coffee stains? Yeah, no thanks.

  Landed. I’m going to wait and deplane with the escorting officers. Twenty minutes?

  Shane frowned. Twenty more minutes? Then he laughed at himself for his impatience, standing and chucking the full coffee into a nearby trash can. Ten years of thinking it would never happen, then almost a month apart once it had. Surely he could handle twenty more minutes to get his man back and finally get on with the business of the rest of their lives.

  Brandon didn’t have any jurisdiction in Washington State, and the upside of that—as far as Shane was concerned—was that even though he was unofficially escorting Peter back here to Chicago, Brandon had no official duties and would be able to go home with Shane instead of heading into the station. Officially, in fact, Brandon was four days into a week of vacation time, which meant that they’d have at least the next three together, uninterrupted.

  Shane grinned, really looking forward to that.

  What he wasn’t looking forward to was seeing Peter again, but that would hopefully be nothing more than a brief sighting. Regardless, it was a small price to pay for getting Brandon back.

  He checked his phone again. Ten more minutes. His impatience got the best of him, and he shot Brandon a text.

  Everything okay?

  A small part of Shane—the part that had been bullied and beaten down by Peter’s twisted “love” for so long—half expected something to go wrong, but he ruthlessly shoved that part aside, reminding himself of something Mel had said to him once.

  Sometimes, it was okay for love to be easy. Sometimes, things just worked out.

  Yep. Peter acting subdued. Officers good people. One has the flu. Be out soon. Love you.

  Acting subdued sounded like Brandon was referring to Peter’s state of mind, but Shane let himself imagine for a moment that it really meant that whoever was in charge of Peter right now had him all trussed up, Hannibal Lecter style. He laughed, then stifled it, not wanting to cause a scene in the crowded airport. Still, he would give a lot to see that. Or, at the least…

  Tell the other cop he’s more than welcome to give that flu to Peter.

  Hopefully Brandon wouldn’t think Shane was a bad person, but fuck it. Peter deserved the flu.

  LOL. Just hope I don’t get it. I don’t want anything to spoil the next few days with you.

  Shane shook his head. The flu always sucked, but even if they spent the whole time in bed—well, sick in bed, he meant—he was pretty sure that there was nothing on earth that could spoil how freaking happy he was at the idea of being with Brandon again. He was about to tap out another text, saying so, when he heard his name.

  “Shane.”

  The hair rose on the back of Shane’s neck, and his head jerked up.

  Peter.

  If Shane hadn’t known he was a prisoner being transported, he never would have guessed. No Hannibal Lecter mask or other restraints in sight. Peter and the officers on either side of him were all dressed in nondescript clothes that were just as low on the fashion scale as they were in the eye-catching department. For a terrifying moment, Shane wondered if there had been some mistake. If Peter wasn’t, in fact, restrained in any way and they were simply counting on his “good behavior” to keep him in check.

  But no. A beige windbreaker was thrown ove
r Peter’s wrists, just in like every hide-the-handcuffs scene Shane had ever seen in a movie, and, although it was discreet, he was pretty sure he could make out the bulge of holstered guns underneath the jackets of the cops on either side of Peter.

  “I knew you would be waiting for me, baby,” Peter said in a soft, almost seductive voice. It was a tone that Shane had once believed meant Peter loved him, but now it made him feel sick. Especially when Peter followed it with a gentle smile, as if the two of them were all alone and having some kind of tender reunion.

  Shane felt frozen, but then he forced air back into his lungs, his eyes skittering away from Peter’s to find his solace.

  Brandon was dressed in street clothes, and—as he’d told Shane earlier—he was unarmed. He still managed to look incredibly cop-like, though. He met Shane’s eyes for a brief moment of reassurance, but kept the bulk of his attention on Peter. Despite the fact that both escorting officers had ahold of his arms, Peter looked calm and at ease, ignoring them completely as his attention zeroed in on Shane, and Brandon moved subtly closer to the red-nosed, puffy-eyed officer on Peter’s left, as if to back her up.

  “I came back for you, Shane,” Peter said, as if his arrival at O’Hare was voluntary. “We’ll be together soon, baby. I’m going to take care of you, you know that, right? You know I love you. It’s why you came.”

  A shudder went through Shane’s body at the chilling delusions spilling from Peter’s mouth, and then something snapped inside him.

  “I’m not here for you, Peter.” His feet suddenly unfroze, along with his mouth, and he stalked over to the small group, paying no attention whatsoever as one of the officers—the one who didn’t look sick—tried to wave him back. “I don’t know how you can possibly think I love you. Or that… that… shooting someone is any kind of thing normal people do! You’re insane.”

  Shane couldn’t seem to stop. He’d never talked back to Peter. Never stood up to him. Even leaving him had been done without any confrontation; Shane sneaking out while Peter had been out of town. All the pent-up frustration and hurt feelings and repressed anger that he hadn’t even realized were still inside him boiled out, unstoppable, like lava.