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Wander was quiet for a while as he navigated the roads with ease. “I get that. I don’t like it, but I understand it’s an inevitable consequence of the career you chose.”
“It is. No offense, but I even have to be careful about associating with you. It’s not hard to find out what you do and what your lifestyle involves, and that could come back to bite me in the ass.”
Wander’s face tightened. “That’s because people are close-minded dicks who don’t have a fucking clue about the beauty of BDSM and kink. They think we’re all perverts.”
“Unfortunately, yes. As much as I would love to change that, I can’t. This is the reality of my life, my job, and I’ll have to adjust.”
“For now.”
For now? What did that mean? No, Roman wasn’t going to ask. It wouldn’t lead anywhere. “I appreciate the offer of using Caleb’s services again, but I’ll need to think about it.”
“I respect that. Just keep in mind that what happens in Jesse’s house stays in Jesse’s house. No one needs to know.”
Roman didn’t doubt that, but that wasn’t his primary concern. He would know. Worse, he would feel what it was like to be with another man again, to let that part of himself free, and once he did, would he be able to put it back? If he came out of that proverbial closet, even if only for a few days, would he ever be able to shove himself back in?
He highly doubted it.
6
One day, he wanted to own a house with a library like this. Before moving into Jesse’s mansion, Caleb hadn’t known rooms like this existed outside of movies. Endless rows of bookcases, filled to the brim, thick velvet curtains that kept the cold out, and an honest-to-god fireplace. Didn’t that add, like, big-time to your home insurance? Not that Jesse would be worried about that. Money was clearly not an issue for him.
Caleb grazed the spines of the books with his fingertips. How many books did Jesse have in this room? A thousand? Two? Had to be closer to two, judging by how full the cases were. Caleb had never been a big reader. Growing up, he’d been constantly told to get away from his computer and read a book, but he was sure tempted now.
But more than anything, he loved the atmosphere in this room. So cozy and inviting. The scent of old books mingled with the smoke from the fire, and the lemon fragrance Jesse’s staff used to clean wafted from the couches. He wanted to cuddle on the cushions and spend a whole day here.
But he had a job to do. While Ryan and Alex settled on the sofa across from Roman, Caleb took the spot next to Roman, who was tapping his fingers on the armrest, his expression anything but warm. Not that Caleb could blame him.
“Let’s talk about the threats.” Ryan sounded gentler than Caleb had thought possible. Either Alex was rubbing off on him, or the PI realized how hard this was for Roman. “I’m assuming you kept track?”
“Yeah.” With a resigned sigh, Roman flipped open his laptop, the soft glow casting an otherworldly sheen over his features. He navigated to a file labeled “Harassment Log” and angled the screen so the others could see. “Every text, every call. Timestamped and documented.”
Caleb leaned in and scanned the digital trail of malice. The messages weren’t random. They were targeted strikes, each a calculated move to shake Roman’s foundations. Five months of this shit, cutting deeper each time. The pattern was unmistakable.
“Escalating,” Ryan muttered, his angular jaw set in a hard line. “Whoever this is, they’re ramping up the frequency and the intensity.”
“Worrisome,” Alex agreed. “Could be because they’re seeing no results.”
Roman nodded. “If Whitman is behind it, he must be getting anxious by now that I’m not giving up on the case. We’re only weeks away from an indictment.”
“And they made it personal when they started gaslighting you,” Ryan said. “Those messages to your secretary, the car accident, all that was meant to make you question yourself…and make others doubt your sanity.”
“It almost worked too.” Roman sighed. “If Wander hadn’t ordered me to get my ass down here—his words—I’m not sure if I would’ve had the courage to tell him about what was going on. I was starting to think I was going mad.”
No wonder. The car accident especially had to have messed with his head.
“So for five months, you’ve been dodging these punches,” Ryan said. “Anything else happen in that time? Any other cases that might have hit a nerve?”
Roman’s eyes, usually so guarded, flickered with the strain of recollection. “Yes, there’s one other big case I’ve been working on. A sexual harassment case. High-ranking officer in the BPD and multiple credible victims. But his brother is with Internal Affairs, so they sent it our way.”
Shit. A cop? If their perp wore a badge, he’d be harder to get to. Cops tended to close ranks, refusing to rat each other out.
Ryan scratched his chin. “Whitman or the cop. Either way, it’s someone with a grudge and access to power.”
“What about the surveillance pic they sent you?” Alex asked. “You still have that?”
Roman pulled it up on his laptop. The quality was high, which meant it was taken from relatively close with a good camera, not a phone.
“Do you recognize the location?” Caleb asked.
