Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

“How is everything going there?” Jagger asked via conference call.

Oliver tapped the folders on his desk. “All new accounts. We’ve got an amazing team here. Have you talked to the Jen over in the Media department?”

“Not today, but we had a conference call Tuesday.” Jagger looked a little uncomfortable for a moment, then he cleared his throat. “I wanted to let you know that I put in my notice Monday. I’ll be leaving on the twelfth.”

“You’re quitting? Why?” Oliver asked before he could think better of it. He liked Jagger and hated to see him go.

Jagger shrugged. “I have other priorities now. My sister has recently married and doesn’t need my financial help anymore. Kevin wants us to go into business together so we aren’t spending so much time apart. I’m just…I’m done with all the stress in this biz.”

Oliver could understand. While he didn’t particularly consider it stressful—he thrived on challenges—many people in the industry burned out after a few years. “Well, I hope you’ll stay in touch, and if you and Kevin ever get to San Antonio, give me a call. You can meet my boyfriend, Peter.”

Jagger gave him a thumbs up. “Sounds like a deal to me. I didn’t get to do the tourist thing when I was there. Didn’t want to without my husband, and when he came down to visit we, err, we had other things to do. Maybe we’ll come down in winter when it’s not nine hundred degrees outside.”

Oliver could just bet they had been too busy to go out, or even get dressed, though he made no such comment. Instead, he picked on Jagger about something else. “You exaggerate,” Oliver protested. “It’s only eight hundred and three out now.”

Jagger laughed. “Aw, man, that’s about right. Texas is just hot all over. Anyway, back to those files you’ve got there…”

Oliver went over them with Jagger, explaining the proposals and giving credit where it was due. By the time the conference call ended, it was time for lunch. Oliver was over the Taser incident. He’d shifted twice until he felt like he wasn’t about to pass out, then he’d slept for a solid twelve hours. In the past three days, nothing untoward or weird had happened.

He worried about Peter, though. Lucy promised that Jack was keeping an eye on them while they were at work, and according to Peter, Jack had all but moved in since the night Peter had been attacked. Peter was hardly ever alone. Still, no one could be with him all the time.

And Oliver hadn’t deduced why anyone was coming after him and his boyfriend. The events were all related—that lack of smell tied them together, otherwise he might think the attack on Peter was a coincidence.

Not that he’d be comforted if it was. The idea of Peter being hurt hurt Oliver, a pain in his chest that almost made him double over. For a moment, he feared he was having a heart attack, then it occurred to him that the pain wasn’t actually physical, but more of a mental ache. It was strange how the body reacted to fear of losing someone.

Especially when it was someone Oliver was falling in love with. He knew that it wouldn’t be much longer before he was head over heels, irrevocably in love with Peter. The idea both thrilled and terrified him. There was a tiny bit of doubt that Peter might not love him back in time, but for the most part, Oliver believed he would.

Which meant an unexpected future, one Oliver hadn’t ever thought to have. He’d assumed he’d always be the shifter outcast. The pits hadn’t wanted him. As far as he knew, snake shifters kept to their own kind. For him to take up with a hare shifter would be another sin, on top of his other ones of being born a mixed-breed and having deadlier venom than any of the other snakes. The elders in particular hadn’t cared for that.

What he did with his life was none of their concern now. It hadn’t been in a very long time.

His cell buzzed and Oliver was jolted out of his thoughts. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the text. Reading the lunch invitation from Peter made Oliver happier than he’d been since he’d woken up with Peter lying on him that morning.

Oliver replied that he’d meet Peter at The Emma. From there, they’d go to Pearl Plaza then walk to their favorite vegetarian restaurant. Neither of them were vegetarians, though, Peter did eat less meat then Oliver. However, the restaurant had very good food and an excellent selection on its lunch menu.

Oliver decided to walk the two blocks rather than call for a cab. He left his suit jacket and tie in his office, and waved at his assistant on the way out. He also greeted the security guard at the front desk, Elizabeth, aware as always of the importance of their job.

Outside, the heat him like a tsunami of humidity and hell. He was getting used to it, though, and merely rolled his sleeves up as he started walking. Every few steps, he tasted the air, relieved to find numerous scents in it.

Spotting Peter, Oliver waved and noticed the happiness that filled him as Peter strolled over. He was definitely hung up on Peter, and he was glad. Peter was witty, sexy, determined and open-minded. Oliver was lucky to have met him.

Peter’s smile was bordering on brilliant. “Hey, babe. How’s work going?”

Oliver was still getting used to being called ‘babe’, as it was what Peter called him more and more. It had always seemed like a cheesy word in the context of a boyfriend before, but coming from Peter, Oliver liked it.

“It’s going,” Oliver replied. “How’s your day?”

Peter glanced around, then darted forward and up, brushing a quick kiss across Oliver’s cheek. “Good. My manager talked to me about a possible promotion in the near future. She knows I’m working on my degree, and the position opening up requires one, but she’d be willing to work with me and make an exception since I’m so close to finishing college.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Oliver exclaimed. “We’ll have to celebrate.”

Peter’s wicked expression sent heat straight to Oliver’s cock. “I get to pick how we celebrate.”

“Of course.” Oliver was no fool. Peter would pick a very sensual celebration. Oliver was all for sensual celebrations with his boyfriend.

“Tomorrow night, since I’m off the day after,” Peter said, “and I plan on being very sore and well-loved—er, I mean well-fucked the next day.”

“Well! I never!” said a woman walking past them.

Oliver noted how darkly Peter blushed. Was it over the slip ‘well-loved’ or because he’d been overheard by someone obviously not pleased about his wording?

Whichever it was, Oliver would try to help with both of them. “If you’ve never, you really should, because it’s amazing,” he said to the lady. “Really.”

The woman looked scandalized as she rushed away.

“I like the idea of you being well-loved,” Oliver informed Peter, who was still blushing. “We do more than fuck. We’re more than that. We’re a…a couple. Boyfriends. Lovers. Friends. Not fuck buddies.”

“I was afraid you’d think I meant, you know,” Peter mumbled. “That I was saying the ‘L’-word. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t,” Oliver assured him, “but it would have been fine if you had meant it that way.”

Peter’s blush faded somewhat. “It would have? Would be?”

“Yes, because I know how I feel about you. We haven’t been together long, but you are very, very important to me,” Oliver said. “I meant it when I said I wanted more with you. I…” Well, he hadn’t expected to be saying this now. “I want forever, I want to love you, and for you to love me, and I think we can have that.”

Peter grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “I think we’re halfway there.”

“Halfway?” Oliver asked, heart racing. He didn’t even care if someone saw them holding hands and got offended. Nothing was more important than Peter and what his answer would be.

“I love you,” Peter replied, with so much openness and honesty that Oliver’s eyes teared up. “I know, it’s early in our relationship, but it feels right and I’ve been afraid I’d slip up and say it and you’d freak out. You’re not, right? Not freaking out?”

“Not freaking out at all.” Oliver wished they were alone, somewhere he could kiss Peter, hold him, make love to him. Though they were holding hands, even that was daring for the area. He would just have to restrain himself until he got Peter alone. “Not at all, because that’s how I feel. I mean, I love you, and being with you makes me feel whole, like I’ve been living a half-life until I met you.”

“The things you say,” Peter whispered. “Can you take off work?”

Oliver thought of the files on his desk, his responsibilities. He was caught up on everything, ahead of his projections, so he could take the afternoon off, surely. He’d been working a minimum of six days a week since he’d started. “I can.”

“Me, too. Take me back to your place?” Peter asked.

“Well, you’ll have to do the driving, so if you’ll take us back to my place?” Oliver grinned.

“Damn right I will.” Peter took out his phone, letting go of Oliver’s hand as he did so. “Let me just call my boss. She’ll be cool with it. She was telling me I needed to use my vacation days soon.”

“And I’ll call my assistant.” Oliver and Peter began walking toward The Emma, where Peter’s car was parked. At the street corner, Oliver spotted a dark sedan stopped across from them at the red light. He finished his call, and when the crossing signal switched to Walk, Oliver found himself hesitating. He licked his lips.

Peter sniffed. “I smell people. Cars. Food.”

“So do I, but something about that sedan is creeping me out.” Oliver shook himself. Other people were crossing, however, so he took a step off the curb.

“You think it’s him?” Peter was staring at the sedan. “I can’t see his face. He’s got on big sunglasses and a ball cap, and his head is tipped down.”

Almost like he’s hiding? Oliver wondered. He and Peter crossed the street without any issues. It could have been because they were in a crowd, or because the driver of the sedan had nothing to do with the attempts on Oliver’s life or the attack on Peter.

“The longer we go without anything happening, the more nervous I get,” Oliver admitted.

“I think that’s his or her game plan. Make you worry until you’re so on edge, you can’t relax.” Peter glanced over his shoulder for a moment then grunted and faced forward. “The guy in the sedan looked this way. Still couldn’t make out his features, but as soon as he saw me staring he turned his head away. Seems sketchy as hell to me.”

“Did he have any scars?” Oliver winced. He’d permanently disfigured the first boy he’d bitten.

“Not that I saw,” Peter answered. “We’ll see if he shows up on the next block.”

The sedan didn’t appear again before Peter and Oliver made it to Peter’s car.

“I don’t think him not showing up again rules him out,” Oliver said.

“Oh, me either.” Peter unlocked the car. “In fact, I feel like that was him, and he was a little unnerved at us spotting him.”

“Except I didn’t see him, or what I did see of him didn’t look familiar.” Which was frustrating to Oliver. “I suppose someone could have hired him to harass me. Maybe killing me isn’t the goal.”

“Maybe it’s not,” Peter agreed. “This is an open-carry state. He could get a permit and shoot you if he wanted you dead. And on that note, I don’t want you outside and you need to wear Kevlar.”

The idea that he could be shot, taken out by a sniper at a distance or even someone closer to him was terrifying, but Oliver also believed it unlikely. “Seems like I’d be dead already. I suppose if it was someone who didn’t live in Texas, however, it might be more difficult to get a gun?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t read up on the law,” Peter said. He started the car after they got in and buckled up. “Still, I’m not sure they want you dead. But what do they get out of fucking with you?” He backed out of his slot.

“Just making my life hell?” Oliver guessed. “They’re not, though. You make me happy, and I love my job. It’s not the same as having my own business, but in some ways, that’s better. I feel less pressure, but still have the drive to succeed. So if they’re trying to make my life hell, they’re failing.”

“Are they?” Peter countered. “You’re fearful now. You’ve been hurt. I’ve been jumped. How safe do you feel? How much time do you spend worrying about you or me?”

“Point taken.” Oliver wouldn’t feel safe, or feel that Peter was safe, until this mystery was solved and the culprits had been dealt with. Though just how that’d be done, he didn’t know. If it was another shifter, as both he and Peter suspected, then Oliver really didn’t want the police involved. That included Jack, because Oliver didn’t know where his loyalties lay, other than with Lucy.

“So, we put an end to this stalking and harassing crap,” Peter said. “Security cameras in your place and mine, inside and out. Your apartment complex has them outside and in the halls, but you don’t have anything inside your place. If he managed to break in somehow, and we can’t dismiss that, not after the garage parking lot attack, then you’d need video, something that doesn’t run on electricity, either. Also, a dash cam for the car, and maybe some kind of tracking chip we could each carry hidden somewhere.”

“You’ve really thought this out,” Oliver observed, impressed with Peter.

Peter nodded. “I have. I’ve actually got a list I was going to go over with you, and I will. After.”

“After.” One word, and Oliver’s dick went hard as stone. He was glad he didn’t live far away at all.

Peter pulled into the apartment complex and drove to the parking garage. He used Oliver’s keycard to get in, rolled both front windows down a few inches, then went all the way to the top level to park. They had a method now, one that would hopefully keep them from being attacked and Tasered. Oliver and Peter both checked the parking garage, every level of it, as they drove.

“All clear,” Peter declared as he parked.

“All clear,” Oliver agreed. They rolled the windows up, unbuckled, then got out of the car.

Peter locked it, and together they headed for the elevator. After a couple of minutes, during which Oliver considered just what he was going to do to Peter when he got him naked, the elevator doors opened. A man stood in the back, looking down at his phone. Oliver stepped onto the elevator, with Peter right beside him.

Then it hit him, just as a sharp pinch registered to his neck. Oliver blinked slowly, eyelids suddenly too heavy to hold open for long. There was no scent in the elevator. None at all.