Chapter Fifteen

“You’re really okay?” Ollie stood with his hands on Courtney’s shoulders, his gaze skimming over her as if he’d missed some horrible injury.

But she was fine. She was truly fine.

“Yes,” she said, her smile in contrast to her puffy and bloodshot eyes. In one burst, she threw herself at him, her arms wrapped tight as he kissed her head. “I knew you’d find me. That’s what the FBI does, right?”

“We do indeed,” he said, looking over her head to meet Trevor’s unreadable eyes.

He frowned, mouthed, you okay?

Trevor nodded, then came forward to join them. “We want to keep you under guard for a while,” he said, and Ollie wanted to kick himself. Of course, Trevor was focused on practical reality. Ollie was just floating on waves of relief.

“You’ll stay with me for a few days. Hopefully we’ll have apprehended him but then.”

She shuddered, then hugged herself. “I can’t believe Bobby did this. I mean, I broke up with him because he was too clingy and, oh, I don’t know. He just wasn’t right for me. Now I guess he wasn’t right in the head. But I never expected anything like this.”

“No one does,” Ollie assured her, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “But it’s over now. Or it will be soon. We will get him.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Then you’ll have to live with that. We both will. I don’t think he’ll try for you again. He doesn’t seem like the type. I think he’ll take his money and run. But you never know. Can you handle that?”

She swallowed, but nodded. “I guess I won’t have much choice. But until we get there, I’m going to root for the good old FBI to catch him.”

“And we will do our very best. The SSA, too,” he added, shooting another glance at Trevor, and again wondering about the crease in his brow and the frown in his eyes. “We’ve got good people working this. Right now, I want you to sit down with Denny. Tell her everything you remember. Start from the beginning and just run through it. You never know when something small might help.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

He shot Denny a quick text and she joined them in the bedroom. “Ready to walk down Memory Lane?”

“Not so much,” Courtney said, tucking a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. “But I guess I have to, anyway.”

“It might help,” Denny said. “You never know what will.” She flashed a smile at Ollie, then cocked her head toward the door. “I’ll bring her out to you in a few. You two driving her back to LA?”

“We are,” Ollie said. “She’s going to bunk at my place for a few days.”

“Good,” Denny said, with a soft smile toward Courtney. “You’ll feel better being with a friend for a while.”

“Yeah,” Courtney said as she followed Denny out of the room, the door snicking shut as soon as they were across the threshold.

“I can’t believe I put her through this,” Ollie said, falling into a chair in the dining room.

“It wasn’t you. It was him,” Trevor said.

“I know. I just—”

“I’m glad she’s safe.”

Ollie frowned, something in Trevor’s tone setting off warning bells. He took a step toward him. “Listen, Trev, you know I’m not in love with her.”

“I know. I do.”

“She’s just staying with me until she’s dealt with it. And until we either catch him or cry uncle.”

“I know,” Trevor said, his tone sharper than Ollie could ever recall. He drew in a shaky breath, then closed his eyes as he simply bent over and breathed.

When he stood up straight again and met Ollie’s eyes, the room suddenly went cold.

Ollie shook his head. “Trevor—no.”

“I’m sorry, Ollie. You have no idea how sorry I am. But we can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “I love you. I’m certain of it. But I can’t be with you.”

And then, without even a backward glance, Trevor walked to the front door, pulled it open, and stepped out of the house, leaving Ollie confused and angry and desperately alone.

* * * *

“You want to talk about it?” Courtney asked, hours later as they settled in Ollie’s bedroom in front of the television.

“About what?”

“About whatever you and Trevor talked about while I was with Denny. Because something happened.”

“What makes you say that?”

She only cocked her head. “Are you actually asking me that? Me?”

He laughed. Which, frankly, felt pretty good. Even so, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’d rather just get lost in a movie.”

“When have we ever easily agreed on a movie? It will be tomorrow before we decide. Just talk to me. I promise you can do it. We may have sucked at talking about our relationship and feelings and all that, but we could always talk.”

“I—” He broke off with a shrug, not sure how to tell his ex-girlfriend that his boyfriend had just dumped him.

“Fine, I’ll start. You’re dating Trevor, and something happened. I’m guessing the something is me.”

Ollie gaped at her. “Dating Trevor. What makes you say that?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know you, Ol. And I’ve got eyes.” Eyes which she narrowed at him. “Or are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

He drew in a deep breath. “No,” he said. “You’re not wrong. Except apparently we aren’t dating anymore. And I don’t think it had to do with you, specifically, just the girl part of you. His ex-husband left him for a woman. He’s gun shy.”

Which was pretty damned annoying considering Trevor had been pursuing Ollie with at least as much determination as Ollie had wished he’d had the balls to reciprocate.

“That must’ve been tough. Probably makes sense that he’s gun shy.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Ollie frowned. “He told me he gets panic attacks. He lost his mom unexpectedly. I’ve never seen him have one before—Trev’s the most level guy I know. Steady and solid. But I saw one coming on today. And it kills me to know it was because of me.”

“But it wasn’t. It was because of his mom. And because his ex left him for a woman. None of that’s on you.”

“I know. But so what?”

“So fight for him.”

Ollie managed a sound that resembled a snort.

“Really?” Her brows rose. “That’s your response?”

Ollie groaned. “Can we just watch a movie now?”

“No,” she said, grabbing the remote and clicking off the television.

“Dammit, Cee. You always do that.”

She grinned. “Nice we know each other so well, isn’t it? Which means you need to listen to me. About you, I have gee-gobs of wisdom.”

“Fine. Fine. Say whatever you want. Just say it and then be quiet so we can either watch a movie or go to sleep.”

“Get your ass over to his house and have it out with him.”

“I don’t think—”

“Shut up. He’s nervous, obviously. You need to convince him he doesn’t need to be.”

“Doesn’t he?” Ollie asked. “Look what I did to you.”

She took his hand, then gave it a gentle squeeze. “I haven’t forgotten. But it’s different.”

“How?”

Her smile was as sweet as he’d ever seen. “You weren’t in love with me.”

“I loved you.” He heard the defensiveness in his voice and hated himself.

“You did,” she agreed. “But you weren’t in love with me. You loved me like you love Jamie. Or even Nikki. You would never have ended up with either of them, even if Ryan and Damien had never come on the scene. And it’s not because we’re women. It’s because we’re not Trevor.”

Ollie could only stare at her. Everything she was saying was absolutely dead on.

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“He’s my lobster.”

A wide smile lit her face. “Yeah, I think he is.”

Ollie drew in a breath as he took her hand and squeezed. “I do love you.”

“I know. Why do you think I kept coming back? And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’ll always be one of my best friends. But I’m fine right now. So go talk to him.”

“No way am I leaving you alone.”

She lifted a brow. “And you’re the only qualified babysitter? What about Leah? Didn’t I hear that she’s Trevor’s roommate? Ask her to come over here, and you’ll have him all to yourself.”

“I don’t remember you being this devious and persistent when we were dating.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I only am when I’m pushing for the right match.”

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I’m very glad you’re still in my life.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too. Especially with a crazy ex wandering around out there.”

“Right. Calling Leah now. She’s tiny, but she’s one hell of a bad ass, and a damn good shot, too.”

“And she can entertain me with Trevor stories that you can later bribe me to share.”

He laughed, thrilled that after their rollercoaster ride of a relationship, they were finally okay.

He hoped that was a portent. Because one thing he knew for certain, if he lost Trevor now, he’d never recover.

* * * *

“You forget something?” Trevor asked, answering the call from Leah who’d left about half an hour ago to watch Courtney while Ollie got called into a meeting with Horowitz.

“Nope. All good. I’ve been talking to Courtney, and I’m just calling to tell you you’re a foolish prick.”

“Thank you. Appreciate the moral support. Seriously, Leah? What the fuck?”

“I am serious. You’re so in love with the guy that you’re having panic attacks. You’re terrified that he’s going to leave you, so you’re doing everything in your power to make that actually happen.”

“Dammit, Leah. Don’t be—”

“Oh, shut up. I know you. I know how you think. And I know that you’re being completely stupid about the whole thing.”

“Fine. Whatever. Can I just crash now?”

“Not until you tell me that you’re going to fight for him. Because, seriously, how often do you feel like that about someone?

Not that often .

“You can’t just let that go because your delicate little tushie is afraid of getting smacked down. Because, one—grow a pair. And two—that man is head-over-heels for you and he’s not going anywhere. And if you can’t see it then you need to open your damn eyes.”

Somewhere in that ramble, Trevor realized he was smiling.

“You’re a good friend, Leah.”

“Damn right I am. Which is why I’m telling you that you can’t pull away from him. Just the opposite. You need to fight for him.”

“You’re right.”

“I mean, really fight because—wait. I’m right?”

“You are.” She was. He loved Ollie. And, yeah, he was terrified that he’d leave, but he’d rather be with Ollie and control the terror than be without him and floundering.

“You’re going to fight for him?”

That time he outright laughed. “Yes. You’re right. Do I have to tattoo it on my backside?”

“Maybe. Mostly I’m just glad you see it. And that you’re ready for a throw down. Because, my charming roomie, Ollie’s on his way to you right now. And his agenda is pretty much the same. I recommend make-up sex, you know. Just not on the sofa, okay?”

“Wait, what?”

“You’re surprised? The boy’s stone deep in love with you. And he and all of his persuasive lawyer skills are on their way over to convince you. You’re welcome.”

He was grinning like an idiot. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just all talk and no action.”

“You don’t want my action,” Trevor pointed out.

“True enough. But nice of you to offer.”

“You’re very welcome. And seriously, thanks for the slap in the face with a wet dose of reality.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not saying it’ll be easy. You’ll probably have a few more panic attacks along the way. But from where I’m standing, it seems right. And unless I’m an idiot, the man’s not going to leave you ever. Not if he has any say in it.”

“I like the sound of that,” Trevor admitted, wishing Ollie was already there. “I only—”

He had no idea what he’d intended to say, because suddenly Leah’s words were spinning in his head: not if he has anything to say about it.

“Bobby,” Trevor said, his throat so dry he could barely get the name out. “It’s Ollie he wants to punish for being the one Courtney wanted. And now Ollie’s on his way here, and—”

“Fuck,” Leah said. “I’ll call the team and get a lock on his phone so we have a location. You be ready to move the second I have it.”

“On my way,” he said, already halfway to the garage, the fear that Bobby might get to Ollie first adding fire to his sprint.

“Come on, come on,” he said, banging on the dash once he was in and moving through the parking structure toward the street. “Get me the damn coordinates.”

And then, just when he feared the call had failed, Leah was back. “Got it,” she said. And as she directed him to Ollie’s location, Trevor stomped on the gas and tried to tamp down the terror from knowing that he might truly lose the man with whom he’d fallen desperately, hopelessly in love.

* * * *

Naturally, traffic was a bitch. Then again, it always was in LA. Most of the time that was just background noise. Like the sound of a mosquito that eventually faded into the ambiance.

Right now, that mosquito was buzzing at Ollie’s ear, all the more annoying because there was nothing he could do about it.

He started to lay on the horn, but the car in front of him wasn’t responsible, and he didn’t need to be that kind of asshole.

He was just in a hurry. Why didn’t all these Angelinos know he needed to get to Trevor’s? Needed to explain to Trevor that he wasn’t going anywhere, and the sooner Trevor realized that, the sooner he and Ollie could be together.

Like really together.

Like All The Things together.

He shook his head, then let out a noisy breath. This time not with frustration for the traffic but for himself. Everything that had terrified him about moving forward with Courtney sounded like the most wonderful adventure with Trevor. He wanted on that ride, dammit. He wanted the full Trevor Package.

Before, it had been his own stupid angst and confusion holding them back. Ollie hadn’t understood what he wanted. Who he wanted. But he did now, and the realization had been one of the best smacks in the face he’d ever experienced.

The frustrating thing was he knew Trevor saw it, too. They were perfect together. And not just sex—although Ollie wasn’t about to discount that. No, they’d been friends first, and that had its own kind of intimacy. One that permeated what they had now.

Or, rather, what they should have. What Trevor was trying so hard to throw away with both hands, all because that asshole Greg walked away.

But Ollie wasn’t going anywhere.

A fact that, sadly, was true in more than one sense of the word. Because he was very, very stuck in traffic.

Well, fuck.

For that matter, fine. Maybe that was an omen. Maybe he needed to take some action to get unstuck.

Damn right, he did.

“Call Trevor,” he ordered his phone, then listened as the car filled with the familiar ringtone, then Trevor’s voice—but not really Trevor.

“You’ve reached Trevor Barone. I’m away from my phone but please leave a message.” And then the long, irritating beep.

“Hey, it’s me. Just calling to tell you that you’re an idiot. I love you. You love me. But you’re getting in your own way. So stop it, already. You can’t waltz into my life, make me love you, and then pull the plug. You’re my lobster, dammit. So get your shit together, okay? Because I swear, you can push me away, but I’m just going to keep coming, even if it takes another year. Even if it takes five. So get that through your thick head, Barone. I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He drew a breath, then ended the call, leaving his heartfelt rambling message in Trevor’s voicemail.

If nothing else, Trevor would realize that Ollie really was crazy in love with him.

Hopefully, it would do some good.

The car in front of him inched forward, then hit the gas and blew through the last of the yellow light, hitting the intersection as it changed to red, and managing to escape from the traffic snarl. Ollie felt like applauding the driver’s moxie.

Now he was number one in line, sitting at a red light, watching the traffic pass in front of him on the perpendicular street and above him on the overpass for the 101 freeway.

He bent forward, squinting a bit, trying to discern what he was seeing up there. Was that—

Yeah. Yeah, it was. A person—a man—standing on the 101 beside the concrete side barrier, looking down at the snarled traffic in the Valley.

Ollie frowned. The guy probably had a breakdown and didn’t realize that getting out of his car was an incredibly foolish thing to do.

He shook his head, wondering how people could be so clueless. Considering the way people changed lanes in this town, didn’t the man know he was risking getting sideswiped even though he wasn’t even standing in a lane?

Maybe he did. Because now the man was pressing up against the concrete barrier, practically flattening himself against it as if using it for stability. Ollie grimaced, half of him wishing he could communicate with the man, the other half just watching this inexplicable show.

Or maybe not so inexplicable .

The guy had a gun. Ollie couldn’t be sure from where he stood, but it looked like a sniper rifle, and he was using the barrier to hold it steady.

What the fuck ?

A question that changed from curiosity to fear when he realized that the gun was aimed right at him.

And then everything happened at once.

Ollie took his foot of the brake as he jammed the shifter into park and threw himself sideways over the middle console, basically face-planting in the passenger seat as a gunshot rang out.

But the shot didn’t come from the overpass. Instead, it came from the sidewalk to his right.

He started to sit up, but his guardian angel must have been watching out for him, because even as he tensed his muscles to do so, a loud crack reverberated through the car, and he was suddenly covered with bits of safety glass, not to mention the fluffy stuff that filled the driver’s side headrest, now completely destroyed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Another gunshot rang out even as he kept one arm over his head and fumbled for the glove box where his own weapon was stored.

And then there was silence. A moment of blissful silence before utter chaos descended. Horns honking, people screaming, and then a rapid pounding at his passenger side door.

He lifted his head slowly, not bringing it up above the level of the dashboard. Just enough so that he could look up and see who was out there.

“Ollie!”

Trevor!

He fumbled for the button to unlock the door, then sat up cautiously, realizing that Trevor wouldn’t be standing in the open like that if the threat hadn’t been neutralized.

“Bobby?” His voice sounded strange with his ears still ringing.

“I thought I was too late,” Trevor said, tugging Ollie into his arms, the console the only thing keeping them apart. “He had you in his sights. I didn’t have time to think. To aim. I just fired and I—oh, God, he got off a shot. You could have been—”

“But I wasn’t. And you got him with the next one.” Adrenaline coursed through his body. “You got him.”

Trevor squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenched into fists in an obvious effort to regain control. When he opened his eyes, Ollie saw only regret, and a sharp wedge of fear sliced into his heart.

“Ollie, I—I’m an idiot. I got all up in my head about Greg and, oh, fuck it.”

And then, without another word, he pulled Ollie close and claimed his mouth with his own. A long, slow kiss full of promise and apology, love and heat. Desire and respect. A kiss that melted all of Ollie’s fears and fired all of his dreams.

“Wow,” said Ollie when Trevor finally broke the kiss.

“You’re mine,” Trevor said firmly, those dark eyes blazing with passion. “Dammit, Ollie, you’re mine.”

Ollie grinned, happier than he could ever remember being. “Yeah,” he said. “Just so long as you know that you’re mine, too.”