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No charges—no criminal case. Simply a means of keeping him out of my life.
Feeling as though a weight had lifted off my chest, I followed Kellen outside and down the wide set of stairs.
“Mr. Thomson?”
I halted and turned.
Detective Jenner hurried toward us. “Mason,” he said, coming up to me with his hand outstretched.
“Detective,” I greeted. “What are you doing here?”
“Court.” He glanced at Kellen who sidled up to me. Appreciation flared in his eyes as he took in a quick once-over of my friend from head to toe. Was the man gay, or did he always check out whoever approached his personal space with quick scrutiny? It was probably a law enforcement thing. “Do you have a minute?” he asked, giving me his focus.
“Sure.”
Detective Jenner motioned with his head, away from the pathway of those going in and out of the courthouse. Tucked somewhat behind a bush, he turned toward me, once more eying Kellen at my side.
“He stays,” I stated firmly.
The detective nodded. “I’m wondering if your thoughts on pressing charges has changed.”
“It hasn’t—I just filed a harassment order against him instead.”
“Has he been in contact with you?”
I nodded. “Texts—outright threats on my life. Different number than the first time but the same shit.”
A muscle ticked in Detective Jenner’s smooth-shaven jaw. “You aren’t the only man he’s attacked,” he stated quietly, glancing around as though checking to make sure no one listened in.
“What?” I shot out, my forehead furrowing.
“There was a similar incident…a couple of nights ago.” Detective Jenner glanced at my chest. “The man was around your age. Drugged, same means of binding, but a different knife. That boy definitely has a type.”
“Oh fuck.”
“But unlike you, Joseph’s latest victim wasn’t employed by Elite.” His gaze flitted to Kellen.
I shifted on my feet, but Kellen didn’t flinch beneath the detective’s knowing gaze.
“Look—I don’t give a shit what the two of you do to make a living,” Detective Jenner said, confirming my suspicion he was aware Kellen worked for Micah too. “My mom turned tricks to keep food on our table when I was little. People do what they have to in order to survive. You’ll get no judgment from me.”
“H-How did you find out?” I asked.
“You said you’d been in the Sweet Water Suite on the night of the attack. The room had been rented by Jasmine Fox—Micah Fox’s wife—for his fortieth birthday party. Simply looking into who he is revealed his lucrative business. You’re both on his website’s list of available escorts.”
“I quit,” I stated, lifting my chin.
“Like I said—I don’t give a shit what you do,” he repeated.
Kellen didn’t offer any information, simply stood silent. Unmoved, arms crossed over his thick chest.
“So are you going to be able to get him for attempted murder or something with the other guy’s case?” I asked.
“I can’t discuss the charges at this time, but if you agreed to come forward with your story…”
“Maybe the other victim just needs a better lawyer?” I tossed out the first thought that came to mind. “Does he? I know people with the kind of money who could bury Joseph.”
The detective smothered what sounded like a laugh wanting to escape. “The district attorney will be in charge of the case against Delaney, but yeah, you do have friends with deep pockets—so does that boyfriend of yours.”
