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“After that stunt you two pulled at the release party, then Gavin’s little foray on the beach.” He pauses and a flood of jealousy has me seeing read at the thought of Gavin with that cute twink. “Hawke promised to have them both back in time to start the tour, so it’ll give the media time to cool off.”
“The boyfriend thing was all for show, Ross.” I figure I may as well straighten things out with Ross. There’s no sense telling him about the hook up this morning since I can’t let it happen again.
“Alright.”
I ignore Ross’ short response. “When does the tour start?” I ask, still seething, only not just from the twink. Now I’m furious that Gavin is somewhere without me, and I don’t know when I’ll see him next.
“Ten days,” Ross answers. “And you shouldn’t have posed as his boyfriend without clearing it with the label.” Thankfully, he says his piece and lets it drop, so I don’t bother arguing with him that it’s Gavin’s choice who he dates, not the label’s. “Ten days should give you time to take care of personal business and do some legwork before we go on the road. The record label deposited a check in your account to cover the damage to your townhouse.”
I ignore the part about the break-in, choosing to clarify the more important detail. “Wait…you want me to go on tour with you?”
He can’t mean that, can he?
Ross huffs out an impatient sound. “Mitch, ninety percent of the notes and gifts have happened on tour. Of course you have to come. It’s when this sicko usually makes contact.”
He’s right to be annoyed. I’m the expert. I should have come to the obvious conclusion. My head is all twisted around with this case—two stalkers, my house being destroyed, my involvement with Gavin. Maybe ten days reprieve will do me good, help me remember that I’m not here to get laid.
“Alright. I guess I’m going on tour.”
“I’ll have my secretary send you the details, hotel arrangements and all that,” Ross adds. “Call me if you find anything, otherwise I’ll see you on the fifteenth.”
The line goes dead.
* * *
Sweat pours off of me as I climb the basement stairs of my townhouse. Once in the kitchen, I grab a Gatorade from the fridge and make quick work of it. The brand new solid walnut table in the corner calls to me just like it has every day in the six days since Gavin disappeared.
After running my head under the cold tap and toweling off, I walk over to stand at the side of the table. I’ve turned it into a makeshift desk. Most of the surface is covered with documents. Now that I have upgraded doors and windows, plus a new security system, I’m almost okay with leaving the documents in the kitchen instead of locking them up in the office. The office is just too tiny to spread everything out. I’m a visual person. I need to see everything at once.
I glance over the papers, already having most of them memorized by now, searching for the connection that eludes me. Once again, I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t find a single thing.
Stomping upstairs, my mind keeps going back to Gavin. To the way his body felt against mine, hard and hot and so unbelievably sexy. Now that I’ve had a taste of him, and of the real me, the thought of letting him go is near crippling. That’s if he even wanted me anywhere near him after he took of with Hawke last week. Plus, there’s the pesky fact that he’s a client that keeps getting in the way.
I take a quick shower and jerk off for the millionth time to images of Gavin as he comes, full lips parted, bright blue eyes glazed over, skin flushed.
Dressed and once again disgusted with myself for being unable to control my own body, I grab my keys and head down to the garage. There are a couple of people from Gavin’s past I want to speak to—a club owner where the band played when they first started out, and a neighbor from one of Gavin’s old apartments. Both of them have police records for stalking or aggravated harassment.
The garage door lifts and I back out of the drive, careful to watch out for the pack of kids that ride their bikes up and down the street at all hours. As I put the car in drive, my gaze drifts to my front step.
What the—?
I slam the car into park and leap out, not caring that I leave it running in the middle of the road in my not-so-safe neighborhood. I stop at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get a good look without touching anything. Slowly, I pull out my phone and call Detective Vallejo.
“Vallejo.” His deep voice is serious when he answers.
“Detective, it’s Mitch Hale. You’d better come to my house. I just received a present from our stalker.”
69
Gavin
“Jesus, you are boring as fuck, Walker.”
“Shut up,” I mutter to Hawke as he paces the room for the hundredth time. “Can you sit down? You’re making me a nervous wreck!” I drag a hand through my hair and continue to play a game on my phone in a useless bid to occupy my mind.
“I’m making you a wreck?” Hawke’s eyebrow piercing shoots up under his hair. “You didn’t tell me we were going to have to stay inside the whole time, Gavin! You know I can’t do this! I have to do something, anything!”
My best friend starts clawing at his shirt, his complexion pale.
