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My car, still parked where I left it, was now surrounded by a fleet of police cars, a cloud of dust just settling into the air.
“Stop! Stop right there!”
The loud shout brought us both to a freeze.
“Hands up!”
I complied, lifting my hands in the air, understanding how this all looked without an explanation. Oliver listened, too, but his legs seemed to have called it quits. He dropped to his knees, crying. It tore my heart in half. I went down with him, the police fanning out around us. Seconds later, the loud blare of fire trucks echoed off the towers of cargo containers surrounding us.
I put an arm around Oliver and held him. He trembled against me. “It’s okay, it’s all right. I’ve got you, Olly.”
“It was so close to being over. I thought that was it… I thought we were done. Oh God.”
Oliver wailed into my shoulder. An officer was standing by, giving us space without taking her eyes off us.
“It is over, Olly. It is.” I kissed the top of his head, not caring about the ash that made my mouth bitter.
He cried, letting it all out. Releasing the six years of demons he had held inside him. Letting them go, drifting up with the clouds of dark smoke that were thinning and graying. The firefighters were able to contain the fire but couldn’t save Will. Paramedics tested Oliver for any signs of a concussion or permanent head trauma but found nothing. The police, after an hour of interviewing us separately and then together, let us go, closing the case that had brought Oliver to my offices in the first place.
From the police station, we went and gathered Mason and Jar from under Oliver’s bed and headed to my place, the two cats purring louder than I’d ever heard them.
We got home as the sun crested the horizon. Birds chirped their morning songs.
Without saying much, the two of us shed all our clothes, showered quickly, and climbed into bed, letting the sun fill the room as we lay together, sleep slowly overcoming us both.
Epilogue
TWO MONTHS LATER
Oliver
The stretch limo drove us down Ocean Avenue. A tall row of palm trees surrounded us on either side of the tinted windows. The sun was setting, and the party crowd was coming out.
I reached over a dapper-looking Beckham and grabbed the open bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. I refilled both of our glasses and set the champagne bottle back. Beckham adjusted his bow tie and looked out the window, a smile on his handsome face. I leaned up and stole a kiss before I drank the champagne.
“I still don’t know where you’re taking me,” Beckham said, smiling. The blue-and-purple lights of the limo interior played with the green and gold of his eyes.
I stole another kiss from him. I couldn’t help it.
“You’ll see.” I leaned back in my seat. Music played through the speakers, a booty-popping rap song filling the car.
“Ohhh snap, okay. Okay!” I set the flute of champagne down into the cup hold and got up. Beckham laughed as I started to twerk as best I could in a moving limo, trying to make sure my shirt stayed tucked in.
But I managed. I shook and twerked and made it clap, using the seat on the side to hold me up while I put on a show for Beckham. He got into it. He slapped at my butt and cheered as I dropped it down onto the limo floor, slowly coming back up and rubbing my ass against Beckham’s bulge. His gray slacks left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Instead of asking the driver if he could roll up the partition, I sat back in my seat. The limo made a turn onto a familiar road. Beckham looked out and seemed to realize where we were headed.
“Are we going to…”
“Shhh.” I placed a finger on his lips. He playfully nipped at me. I rubbed his lips, and he sucked my finger into his mouth. I giggled, feeling a shock of pleasure as his tongue swirled around me before I took my finger back.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, leaning in and taking a playful bite of Beckham’s lips. “You know, with the…” I shot a pointed glance down between Beckham’s legs.
“It’s interesting.”
“Interesting, huh?” My hand traveled down the front of his shirt, over the trail of buttons, down to his crotch. He gave a pulse into my grip.
“Very interesting,” Beckham said. He squeezed his legs together.
The limo pulled up to our destination. I drank the last of my champagne and waited for Beckham’s boner to subside before we stepped out of the limo.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long because the driver had kindly opened the door for us, and I hated making people wait, even for boners.
We stepped out of the limo. Ahead of us, the path leading up to Stonewall Investigations had been transformed. There were twinkling white lights that lit up the stone pathway toward the now silver door, a decal placed over the door creating a convincing illusion. Above the door was a banner with big rainbow letters that read “Stonewall’s 1st Prom - 2019.”
