Holding Her Close

by Lexi Ryan

  I draw her against me. I don’t have any answers, and any reassurances I could offer will ring hollow in light of what we know about Courtney’s abduction.

  “She must be so scared right now. What does he want from us?” Her shivers grow harsh and persistent. Seeing her like this cuts at something inside me.

  I scoop her into my arms and carry her over to the bed. Pulling back the covers, I lower her onto the mattress and climb in behind her. Inside our cocoon of blankets, I wrap my arms around her.

  She seems so small and the tremors racking her body seem so big.

  “I’ve got you,” I whisper, smoothing her hair back. “I’m here and you’re safe. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. Breathe for me, beautiful.” I wipe the tears from her cheeks and she does as I ask, taking a slow inhale and then releasing the air. “Now close your eyes. I’m right here.”

  She obeys, and her breathing slows. I wonder if she’s fallen asleep when she speaks again. The words come out on a ragged exhale. “I’m scared.”

  I pull her against me so we’re skin to skin. “Hold on to that. Fear isn’t always bad. Sometimes it keeps you safe.”

  * * *

  I hate leaving her. Until we catch this guy, having her anywhere but by my side makes me antsy as hell, but Gormong asked me to come to the station first thing this morning. I left the house as soon as I knew both Davis and Jamaal were alert and debriefed on what happened. Jo’s disappearance has already been leaked to the press, so the end of Nate’s drive is crowded with reporters.

  “We picked up the hacker this morning,” Gormong says as he leads me into the conference room. “But he’s not talking yet.”

  “Does he know where Jo is?”

  “No, and he has an alibi for all night last night. We believe someone hired him. He’ll tell us who if he doesn’t want to face time for rape and abduction.” He waves to the chairs facing a large projection screen. “Take a seat. I need to show you something.”

  “What is it?”

  Gormong nods toward the screen. He hits a button on the remote and the image of a mansion fills the screen. Not just any mansion—Courtney’s place. “Courtney’s security staff handed over their surveillance footage this morning. They have cameras around the perimeter of the house.”

  “You got him on camera?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, as a blonde saunters on screen. “That’s Jo.” Pointing the remote at the screen, he fast-forwards, and I watch the time stamp tick through nearly three hours of Jo on- and off-screen, dancing, drinking, and talking with dozens of different people. Throughout the night, her walk turns to a stagger. She’s drunk. Or is she drugged? Both?

  Gormong hits a different button and the scene changes to the view of the front of the house. This must be a different camera, and the timestamp is ten minutes later. “Watch on the left,” he says.

  She leans against the side of the house, just barely in the frame. Her face is half in shadow, but there’s enough light to make out her surprise as a man comes onto the screen, presses her against the building, and kisses her. Gormong hits pause, and I tilt my head as I study the image.

  “Is that who I think it is?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Gormong says, his voice low. “But if you’re thinking it looks an awful lot like Tom Comer, you’re not alone.”

  * * *

  Janelle

  “Tom! What a surprise.”

  “Sorry I didn’t call.” Tom drags a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “I was afraid you’d tell me not to come.”

  “Good guess,” Jamaal says from beside me. “Why don’t you follow that instinct and excuse yourself?”

  I shoot Jamaal a glare. Tom’s obviously upset about Jo’s disappearance—as he should be. Jo spent a lot of time with us when Tom and I were married. Hell, Tom and Jo would sometimes even go out without me. They’re good friends. Jamaal could at least be empathetic. Everyone’s a bit of a mess right now. “Can Tom and I talk in private for a minute?”

  When the guard at the front of the drive told me Tom was here to see me, I wasn’t sure what to think, but I told him to send him on through. I figure Tom’s just as freaked out as the rest of us. And besides, we’re overdue for a conversation.

  Jamaal scowls at Tom, and I scowl at Jamaal. I’m just as stubborn as he is, and I’m going to win this one. “We’ll be right out back by the pool. Relax.”

  Jamaal grumbles something about spoiled divas not knowing what’s good for them. I ignore him and lead Tom to the back.

  He tucks his hands in his pockets then removes them to adjust his shirt, then his hair. He can’t stop fidgeting, and the dark circles under his eyes tell me he had as much trouble sleeping last night as I did.

  “I’m freaking out,” he says.

  “About Jo?” I ask. “I think we’re all freaking out. I’d be worried if we weren’t.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them and looks at me. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m ready to change. I want to change for you.” He reaches for me and grips my shoulders. “Let’s leave. Remember when we’d talk about leaving this country and buying a place in Haiti? Let’s do it. Let’s go. I don’t want to be the man I used to be. Not anymore. Leave with me.”

  Frowning, I shake my head. “No. I can’t just . . .”

  “Yes, you can. You said you missed me. Let’s be together again, and let’s start now.”

  “I’m not going to be with you at all, Tom.” I step away from his touch. Once, there was nothing more comforting than his hands on me. Not anymore. “Not now and not ever.”

  He drops his hands and his face falls. “But I thought . . .”

  “You’re the first man I ever loved,” I say softly. “But it’s time for me to let that go.”

  “The first?” he asks. “What we have is more than that.”

  I hold his gaze. In the not-physically-abusive division, Tom Comer is a contender for World’s Worst Husband, and he’s consistently a self-centered asshole. But I loved him once. In his own screwed-up way, I know he still loves me, and that’s enough to make me want to proceed cautiously.

  “I’m the only man you’ve ever loved. That means something.”

  “But it’s not true.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You’re in love with him,” he says. “Jesus. I thought it was just for the press, but you fell for the cop.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He looks away and stares at the pool. “Sorry that you love him, or that you can’t be with me?”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. When you divorced me, I told myself maybe it wasn’t over. Maybe you’d come back to me. That was a mistake.”

  “It wasn’t.” He doesn’t look hopeful. He looks desperate. “You were right. We’re good together.”

  I wait for these words to wrap me up in their spell. They don’t. Tom always had this power to make me forget all reason, but that’s gone now. “We’re not. We loved each other, but we weren’t good together. Waiting for you was a mistake because it kept me from moving on.”

  “I need you now, Elle. I know you don’t believe me, but let me prove it.” He turns away, shaking his head and studying the concrete. “I left my wife for you. If I would have known . . .”

  Still a liar, even in the same breath that he swears he wants to change. But I don’t mention that Bella said she kicked him out. It’s not relevant. “If you were willing to leave her for me, you shouldn’t have been with her at all. She deserves better than that.”

  He grunts. “If you believe that, you don’t know Bella very well. That woman is pure evil.”

  Shrugging, I rock onto my toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “This is goodbye.”

  With a final grimace, he nods and squeezes my hands in his. “I have to leave town. If you need anything, you can call my lawyer, but I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  My gut turns cold. “Tom, what’s going on?”

  He doesn’t answer, and
for the first time I notice how bloodshot his eyes are. This isn’t just worry and lack of sleep.

  “Why did you call me after Courtney was on TV?” I ask, and he winces. “You wanted to know what she said to me. And now Jo’s gone and you’re freaked out again. Why, Tom? What’s going on?”

  “I can’t talk about this,” he says.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth.” Cade’s at the back door, his arms crossed, his face hard.

  Tom follows my gaze and winces. “Listen—”

  “Officer Gormong,” Cade calls, and the officer steps onto the patio and toward Tom.

  “We need to ask you a few questions,” Gormong says to Tom.

  Tom takes a step back, then he turns his gaze on me. “I didn’t do anything. Whatever happens in the next few days, I want you to know I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I turn from Cade to Tom, and I can’t get my footing. “I don’t understand. Someone explain this.”

  Cade stands frozen, watching Tom leave.

  “What’s happening?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he says, his voice cold. His whole body is cold. He’s shut himself off from me again, as if all he has to do is flip a switch.

  “He came here asking for me to leave town with him, to start over.” I frown in the direction Tom and Gormong disappeared. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “What? Sure you can.” I fold my arms. “I told him I didn’t want to be with him. Why are you acting like a dick all of a sudden?”

  He releases a dry laugh. “Your ex-husband called you about the case and you didn’t even tell me. I asked if you’d talked to him, and you lied to me to protect him. What can I say? That brings out my dickish side.”

  “I didn’t lie. I didn’t want you to know about that conversation because I thought you’d think . . .” Exactly what any good cop would think.

  Oh my God, Tom. What have you done?

  “You deliberately kept the truth from me.”

  It seemed harmless at the time, but Cade has gone so cold I wish I could take it back. “You don’t really think he’s capable of this, do you?”

  “We’re a simple DNA test away from proving he drugged and raped your best friends, and I find out he’s here. With you. But hey, at least it wasn’t against your will. Small blessings, right?”

  “A DNA test?” That was why Tom was so freaked out. He knew they were coming for him. And the only reason he would know they were coming for him is if he did it. “No. Cade.” I shake my head. “You have to stop Gormong. You don’t understand. Tom wouldn’t ever—”

  “We’ll talk about this later. I need to go into the station. They found Jo at her house.” Any relief I feel at those words is lost when he sneers. “She doesn’t have any memory of what happened last night, and she’s a mess. Maybe you should worry about her more than you worry about Tom. Stay in the house. Don’t talk to the press.”

  * * *

  Cade

  When I get to the station, Gormong already has Tom in an interview room. “You question him yet?” I ask as I watch Tom through the one-way glass.

  One second, I was watching Tom on the surveillance video. The next, the security guy who works the gate at Nate’s was calling me to let me know Janelle had just let Tom back to the house.

  It might take a month for my heart rate to return to normal.

  “I was letting him sweat for a while first,” Gormong says. “Want to join me?”

  “After you,” I say, motioning to the door.

  Tom’s expression is cold when we walk into the room, and he keeps his arms crossed.

  Gormong doesn’t say a word, and opts for the strong visual instead. He grabs the remote off the table, presses play, and lets the surveillance footage from last night speak for itself.

  As Tom watches it, the color drains from his face.

  “Do you want to explain that?” Gormong says, taking a seat across from him.

  I stay standing and study Tom, trying to decipher what kind of guilt I’m seeing on his face. The guilt of a major criminal or the guilt of a married man whose affair has just been exposed?

  “Christ, they’re evil,” he finally mutters.

  “What do you mean by that?” Gormong asks.

  Tom looks to me. “You of all people know how heartless actresses can be.”

  My jaw tightens, but I don’t respond. If this fucker thinks I’m on his side, he’s got another thing coming.

  “What happened last night?” Gormong asks. “We know you went to the party. Leaving your name on guest register at the front gate was pretty fucking sloppy.”

  “Why wouldn’t I sign in? I was invited. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Gormong shoots me a look and sighs. “Let’s talk about it. You see her at the party, get a little frisky. Does a fancy actor like you have to drug his women to get laid?”

  “She fucking called me,” Tom says. “She begged me to come.”

  “Sure,” Gormong said. “But if she begged you, why drug her? Why abduct her or tie her up? I’m guessing her rape kit will show the same thing Courtney’s did. And when we test that semen against your DNA . . .”

  He snaps back in his chair as if Gormong smacked him. “You think I’m the kidnapper? Why the fuck would I kidnap and rape a couple of women I can hardly keep off my dick?”

  Gormong’s jaw ticks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “They . . . we . . .” Tom looks to either side, as if trying to find a friendly face. “We have a history, okay? Sometimes those girls will be out, and they’ll get worked up. They know I’m good for it.” He drags a hand over his face. “But for Christ’s sake, I didn’t take either of them anywhere those nights but back home after we fucked in the back of my limo.”

  “You admit to having sex with them?” Gormong asks.

  “Yeah, but sex isn’t rape when they beg you for it.”

  Part of me is shocked that he’s admitting to it. Another part of me knows that guys like Tom believe they can get away with anything.

  “Courtney’s last memory is of being in the club,” Gormong says. “You picked her up and fucked and say you took her home?”

  “Yes!” Tom says. “I swear.”

  “Jo’s last memory is of being at Courtney’s,” Gormong continues. “You’re telling me you did the same thing? Picked her up, fucked her, and took her home?”

  “That’s all. I don’t know what happened after I took them home, but that’s all that happened.”

  Gormong folds his arms. “You were with both women the nights they disappeared but you never mentioned this to anyone? Don’t you think that’s important?”

  Tom’s gaze darts to mine and his cheeks redden. “I’m a married man.”

  I choose that moment to end my silence. “I thought you were working on divorce papers.”

  Tom and Gormong turn to me at the same time. Tom says, “I didn’t want Janelle to know either. That’s not exactly a solid ground for reconciliation.”

  “Or you’re a sick fuck who’s been stalking these women for weeks and screwing with their minds.” I lean over the table. There’s too much anger pumping through my system, and when I feel Gormong’s hand on my arm, I know I need to tread carefully. “You didn’t think you’d be caught.”

  “Fuck this.” Tom slams his palms against the table. “I’m being set up. Courtney called me from the HiLo that night. I assumed our hookup was completely unrelated to her disappearance, but then when Jo disappeared after we hooked up last night . . .” He shakes his head. “They’re setting me up. The ‘Loves me not’ thing? That’s from the time I was on Roommates. My character was trying to sleep with all three girls, and Court and Jo thought it was hilarious because . . .” His gaze snaps up to meet mine.

  “Because you were sleeping with all three of them in real life,” I fill in. “While you were married to Janelle, you were fucking her two
best friends.”

  “I like women, okay? But I’m not a fucking rapist. They’re setting me up,” he says. “They get fame again. They get their fucking movie. And I get fucked. You have to believe me. I didn’t rape anyone. They called and I came.”

  “And what about the hacker?” Gormong asks. “We have a paper trail proving you hired him to cover your tracks after you broke into Janelle’s condo?” He’s good. To study his face, you’d never know he was bluffing. We don’t know who hired the hacker. “Do you have an explanation for that too?”

  “What hacker?” Tom asks.

  “You want to keep playing dumb with me, boy?” Gormong asks. “How’s that working out for you so far?”

  Tom’s face hardens. “I want my lawyer.”

  “Fine,” Gormong says. He turns to me. “Let’s give the man his phone call. Guilty men need lawyers.”

  I follow Gormong out of the interview room and down the hall to his office where he kicks the wall.

  “Motherfucker,” he says.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He lifts his eyes to mine and studies me for a beat. “I don’t want to, Cade, I swear.”

  “Don’t want to what?”

  “I don’t want to believe the son-of-a-bitch. But I do.”

  Chapter 17

  Janelle

  I’m waiting on the couch when Cade returns to the house. He walks in the door and treads heavily into the living room before dropping his keys. His shoulders are tensed up like he’s carrying the weight of the world there. Or at least the weight of the investigation.

  After he left, I took a long, hot shower, and had a good cry. I can’t wrap my mind around Tom being responsible for the horrible things Courtney and Jo have been through.

  Tom’s vain, prideful, and selfish, and under those shining qualities is a deeply insecure man whom, time and again, I’ve seen hurt others to bolster his own confidence.