by Lissa Kasey
Morning. It had to be eight in the morning. Where was Ollie? “You put a tail on him?”
“As much as we can manage. But he’s gone back to the estate. We’re still sorting through the box of crap you originally called in. Elias doesn’t want to press charges against anyone. He thinks someone is just messing with him. The pictures you forwarded say otherwise.”
I swore. “He’s in the hospital, might even lose part of his hearing….”
“Preaching to the choir, Alme. There’s only so much beating my head against a wall I can do. Last I heard your boy was going to talk some sense into him.”
“Ollie?”
“You have another boyfriend I don’t know about? Yeah, Oliver was just here. I spoke to him not half an hour ago after I stopped trying to convince the rock star he needs to take this shit seriously. What is it with the famous that makes them so stupid?” Rush ranted.
“Ollie’s at the hospital,” I clarified.
“Yep.”
“On my way,” I told Rush and hung up. Only getting out of bed took more effort than it should have. Shit, maybe I was hurt more than I thought. I only had on a pair of pants. I grabbed a shirt before heading to the door. The trip down the stairs was brutal, but the sun was shining, so it was daytime and I’d slept more than twelve hours, maybe longer. What the hell time had we left the hospital yesterday?
The door from the garage opened just as I reached the kitchen. Ollie stepped inside. He glanced up at me, dropped his bag and keys on the table, and rushed to my side.
“You should be in bed.” He wrapped his arms around me and immediately took some of the weight off my right leg.
“You went to talk to Jacob alone?”
He frowned at me.
“Detective Rush called me,” I told him, leaving the rest unsaid.
Ollie sighed heavily and helped me to one of the kitchen chairs. I sank down, only to wince as the stitches in my ass hit the hard wood. Fuck my life.
“If I help you back to bed will you lie down?” he asked.
“If you lie down with me,” I told him.
“Promise? No matter what?”
“You mean even though Jacob refuses to press charges against his assistant, who put the toy in his car and could be trying to kill him?”
“I don’t think it’s Kisten either,” Ollie said. He hauled me up as if I didn’t weigh more than him and hobbled me toward the stairs. “Your room. Mine is too far unless I carry you.”
“Kinky,” I said. I tried for playful to hide the worry filling my gut. “You think you can?”
He growled at me, and it was sexy as hell. Maybe I was still stoned. He was so hot when angry. Scary, but hot. “Don’t tempt me to go all caveman on you. You should be in bed.”
I grinned at the idea of Ollie in nothing but a loincloth. “You can go caveman on me any day. Bet you can even make a loincloth look sexy. Maybe a lace one….”
He gave me an indignant snort, which I loved. We struggled up the stairs toward my room. Thankfully Ollie had insisted on blackout curtains in there as well. He dumped me unceremoniously on the bed and went to the windows to pull the drapes shut. The room was bathed in an almost eerie darkness. Ollie left the door open a crack, so the room wasn’t pitch-black, and kicked his shoes off before climbing onto the bed and tugging me beside him.
“Rest,” he told me, his fingers rubbing my sore hip. “I can get you some more oil if you need.”
As tempting as his offer was, it would put me out for hours. I breathed in the scent of him, and the touch of his skin against mine, letting the tension ease out of me. “Tell me why you don’t think it’s Kisten and what Jacob said.”
“Jacob didn’t say anything.”
“Okay fine. What did he write?” I put my hand in Ollie’s hair, running my fingers through the soft length. Everything was okay. Ollie was in my arms, safe. He wasn’t with Jacob. He was with me.
“Kisten gives Jacob a lot of the fan presents. That he put the toy in the backseat of the limo is not odd.”
“Unless it’s a critter covered in gore with a nasty message written,” I pointed out.
“Seems unlikely. It sounds like he opens a lot of the gifts to Jacob. Discards or donates the things he thinks Jacob won’t like and passes on the ones he does.”
“I guess it’s a good thing Jacob hasn’t gotten any bombs or toxic chemicals, then.”
Ollie laid his head down on my chest, ear over my heart, and palm on my stomach. His contented sigh was long and deep. “I was scared yesterday when I heard about the explosion. Even though you called me, and I knew you were alive. I was so scared. And then when I saw your back….”
I squeezed him tight. “I’m fine, baby. We’re both fine.”
His hand rubbed under my shirt and over my stomach in light circles. I think it focused him, assured him that I was there, more than it did anything for me. He had to touch me. In fact, he rarely touched anyone else. I rubbed his arm and shoulder, kissed the top of his head, and rubbed his feet with mine. Yes, I was sore and still tired, but with Ollie in my arms I could battle dragons.
“I’m fine,” I promised him again. “Just a little bruised. They x-rayed me, remember? Nothing broken or out of place. My bolts were just rattled a bit.”
“I knew, but like didn’t know. You know?” He was quiet for a minute, then continued with, “I see the scars, but I think I thought the inside was still the same. I didn’t realize you were so broken. How much pain you must be in every day. I wish I could do something.”
“It’s not that bad. Not as bad as it looks anyway. Mostly it’s stiff. Sometimes it aches. You know that. We’ve talked about it. You went to rehab with me….”
He buried his face in my chest. I knew it wasn’t a good memory for him. My pain was torture for him. Not only did he not like to see me actually hurting, but he feared the pain would drive me emotionally to do things, perhaps even end my life. He’d had a lot of experience with suicide. I couldn’t imagine it was good for anyone, even if he hadn’t been close to Joshua, and Nathan’s death was still questionable in his mind. But while I might at times wish they’d just amputated the leg, I never wished for an end of everything. Not since the moment Ollie became mine.
“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” I promised him. I’d repeat it a million times if I had to.
“Can we rest for now? Just hold me awhile? We can talk about the case later. Whatever. Just be with me right now. Please.”
“I am with you,” I told him. “Right here and now. Forever.” I rubbed his back and shut my eyes, still so damn tired. Healing sucked. It sapped the energy right out of me. I didn’t think I could afford to be down for a few days, not when shit had just gotten real against Jacob. “I should call Duke….”
“There were guards and cops around Jacob’s room. He’s fine. Stubborn as always. Still refuses to see his family. I sat with him while they tested his hearing.”
I tensed a little and had to fight to ease the anxiety trickling in. Ollie wasn’t leaving me for Jacob any more than I was leaving him for any reason. “How’d that go?”
“It was interesting. The doctor used a tuning fork. It looks like Jacob’s hearing will be okay. He’s still got some vertigo and discharge. The doctor said it’s normal and should let up in another day or so. They are fighting to keep him another night.”
“Still four guards on the door?”
“And one inside.” Ollie fell silent. I listened to him breathe for a while, letting it lull away all my worry. The door creaked open another inch and Newt suddenly appeared on the edge of the bed. He glared at me a moment, like he was irritated to find me so close to Ollie, but he made his way to the pillow beside me and curled up. Damn cat. Though I had to admit I liked the idea that he’d formed an attachment to Ollie already. It was one more thing to ground him. And it made sense why our friends had gone through the trouble. When I was home, Ollie had me. Without me he floundered and easily sank into melancholy. The cat seemed to be a
cure for that. Newt was annoying and entertaining all at once.
Ollie shifted, glancing up toward the cat, then yawned. He reached up to stroke the cat, who gave him sleepy eyes and a contented purr instantly.
“Have you slept at all?” I asked him, wondering how early he’d gone to the hospital. I’d lost most of yesterday to pain and chaos. It seemed like a bad idea to stay in bed all day today as well, but feeling Ollie against me was heaven.
“A little.” He huffed. “I couldn’t carry you up the stairs.”
“Okay,” I told him, wondering why he sounded upset. “I’m bigger than you, heavier. So that’s okay.”
“You were out by the time I got the SUV home. So I had to call Ty.”
Ah, so that’s how I’d gotten up to Ollie’s room.
“What’d he do, throw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes?” I half joked.
“No, he was careful. I told him about your bruises and stitches. He told me I should have made you stay at the hospital.”
“I’m just bruised, baby.”
He nodded, his cheek rubbing against my chest. “I know. I just worry. Anyway, Ty left and I stripped you out of your shirt and shoes. Couldn’t get your pants off. Every time I tried, you made little pained sounds.” He let out a long breath. “Are you hungry? You should eat. I don’t think you’ve had anything since yesterday.”
“How about you set the alarm on your phone and we both nap a little. Tomas is manning the office, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Give us a few hours; then we’ll find food and reemerge into the light like vampires bent on self-destruction.”
“You’re so weird,” he grumbled with a half-sleepy laugh.
I kissed the top of his head and relaxed into his embrace. “So long as you love my weirdness, I’m good.”
Chapter Fifteen
AFTER A hearty, late breakfast and a long shower, my phone pinged a reminder that Ollie had an appointment with his nutritionist. He hadn’t brought it up, and rarely did, but despite all that was happening right now with the business, he would not miss the appointment. He picked at lunch until I poked him and pulled him into my lap. Sure, I still ached, but a couple Tylenol and I was ready to rejoin the world, or at least take care of my boyfriend. He’d eaten curled up in my lap not unlike Newt, who seemed to like to be anywhere Ollie was—in need of food and cuddles.
“Cat stays home for our appointment,” I told Ollie as I got dressed after our shower. He’d showered with me. Maybe he worried I’d fall over, but once out of the shower I put a brace on my leg under my jeans. It was tight and irritated my scars, but it did help take some of the pressure off my joints. It also wasn’t the beacon of vulnerability—screaming “attack me here”—that the splint had been.
He frowned at me. “Maybe we should drop him off at the office. He can sit with Tomas.”
“Cats are independent creatures, they don’t need constant attention. Newt will be fine for a few hours on his own. It’s not like we’re leaving him for a week.”
Ollie finally gave in. He offered to drive us to his appointment and I politely refused even though my leg was sore. He put a pillow on the seat of my SUV for me to rest my bruised ass on before climbing into his. I sent Duke a text that I’d be stopping by the hospital after Ollie’s appointment. He replied with an affirmative—very military—and said they’d been without incident so far.
I drove us toward his nutritionist’s office with Ollie in the passenger seat, leg bouncing with nervous energy. “You okay?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” he said, but we were back to quiet Ollie. Was it the appointment, Jacob, or me getting hurt this time? I decided to turn his mind away from all of that and focus it on the part of the case I’d assigned him.
“Did you get to talk to any of the reporters?”
“Oh, yes. One; had to reschedule the other two. The one I did talk to was a nice girl. She’s a huge fan of Jacob’s.”
“But she’s writing articles that smear him?”
“She says it’s totally normal. Keeps him in the headlines because no one wants to read good stuff. Anything about celebs helping the poor or visiting cancer patients is back page news, but tell a good scandal and it keeps everyone talking.” He crossed his legs in the seat and turned to look at me. “She feels like it’s her responsibility to keep him in the spotlight since he’s had trouble creating music in the past few years. She even asked if I thought Jacob was so heartbroken by our breakup that he couldn’t write.” Ollie snorted. “Ridiculous.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t write a breakup song and make a fortune on it.”
“Apparently there is one on the new album.”
“Yeah?”
Ollie shrugged. “I asked Jacob about it this morning and he said he wrote it ages ago, but waste not, want not. His label says it will probably be big.”
I reached out and grabbed his hand. “How do you feel about that?”
“I dunno. I haven’t heard it yet. He’s not had another official lover since me. Many people in his bed, but no one recognized by the media as a constant in his life. So it’s likely they will bring me up, and with me, also you.”
My stomach churned a little at the idea of Ollie being laid out before the vultures that made up entertainment press again. “Were there cameras at the hospital when we left yesterday?”
“Yes, but we went out a private entrance. Your detective friend had the police escort us. You were pretty out of it.”
“So no pictures of me being stoned off my ass will start popping up on TMZ?”
He grinned. “Can’t promise that. Cameras are pretty powerful these days.” And he would know since not only was he a model, but he was a total pro when it came to taking pictures as well.
“Great.”
“It’s okay. I called my manager. She’ll spin it in a positive light if it comes to that. Jacob’s people are already working overtime.”
“Yeah?”
“They are playing the explosion off as equipment failure. And his injury hasn’t been specified to anyone in the press. Kisten’s detainment for questioning by the police got more coverage than Jacob so far. Mostly because no one has gotten a picture of Jacob yet.”
“Was it a bomb?” Because no way had Ollie not gone into the police database and looked. Rush had also been very careful not to call it a bomb. If I’d been more awake when he called I would have asked him about it.
“Yes. A small one. The sort of thing anyone can find instructions to creating online with a little searching.”
I nodded. Jacob needed a full-time guard. Not the thugs he originally had. Duke seemed to be on point now that I’d given him guidelines. Maybe he just needed someone else to tell him what to do to structure everyone else. If that was the case, they needed to find someone else to be the head guard. I was not going to be on permanent retainer with Jacob.
“The one reporter I spoke to knows nothing about any money being received for not writing specific things,” Ollie added. “She was contacted privately and given information to access the site, but never any money. Though she does get money for selling the false stories. When I brought up the potential fraud aspect, she shut down. Claims she takes down anything she can when Jacob’s lawyers come knocking.”
“She’s still making money off of fiction. So the blackmailer isn’t paying for any of the articles?”
“No. And from what I saw on the blog site, whoever is posting the information for the reporters to write about is who we need to pinpoint. I’m still waiting on the fourth guy to call me back. I’ve left a couple of messages for him.”
“Maybe he’s the owner of the blog and dropped out to make himself less suspicious?” I thought out loud.
“Maybe,” Ollie agreed. “Still doesn’t explain the icky toy thing. But I’ve been thinking about that.”
“You said you didn’t think it was Kisten.”
“No. Not Kisten. Whoever is doing the toy thing is an ex-lover.
Jacob and Kisten have never been lovers. They would kill each other.”
“How can you be so sure it’s not Kisten?” I pulled into the parking garage for Ollie’s appointment and headed right to the closest handicap spot I could find. I would not be hiking any great distances for a few days.
Ollie took the tag out of the glove box and stuck it on the window as I parked. “Do you need help getting out?”
“No. I got it.” I’d had the steps added to my side of the SUV for a reason. It took me a few seconds longer to climb down than it did him, and when I was on my feet with my cane in hand, he was at my side, taking the keys, locking the vehicle and arming the alarm.
“It’s the concept. Jacob is into toys. Sex toys. Toys that to a lot of people are dirty and disgusting. And so he’s being given toys, real toys turned into dirty and nasty things.”
“Good connection. I wouldn’t have thought of it that way. And the notes?” I asked.
“Still the ex-lover thing. They feel betrayed and maybe they are planning on a big reveal? Exposing Jacob’s secrets.” Ollie shrugged. “I haven’t figured it all out yet.”
“And the he who died? Was it Joshua, you think?”
“Probably. He’s the only one I know of around Jacob who died. I’m just not sure how he ties in. Jacob was very protective of Joshua, much like he is with Emily. Except I don’t think Josh knew at all about Jacob’s kinks.”
I paused and frowned thinking about it. “How did he die? I know suicide, but like pills, gun? Was there any kind of question?” The tension hung between us for a moment, and I knew he’d immediately think of Nathan.
“Pills,” Ollie said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I was going to have to look into Joshua’s death. “Last name?” I pulled out my phone to write it down.
“Lane. Joshua Anthony Lane.”
I kissed his cheek and let him help me to the building. The trip inside was a short walk, and again up an elevator. Only I wasn’t playing bodyguard this time, and we were going up two floors, not ten. The reception area was large and soothing. Calming blues, greens, and whites made it look more like a spa than a doctor’s office. We never waited and there were rarely people in the sitting area. There were also no pictures of people, magazines, or mirrors anywhere to be seen. This clinic was about as high-end as an eating disorder facility could be without being an inpatient program for celebrities.