Page 8

Chapter 8

Elijah Grant

I was falling for the detective.

Shit. Was that bad? Was there some morality clause I didn’t know about when I hired him? Should I be running to the nearest church and asking for forgiveness?

Because I wouldn’t mind getting down on my knees and begging.

Yeah, I was really attracted to him. And not just physically, but energy-wise, we clicked. I felt like we operated on similar wavelengths. I felt comfortable—safe—around him, which was wild, considering I’d only just met him.

Then again, I did have a track record of easily opening up to people.

When Benji suggested that we go to a nearby electronics shop so we could pick up a camera, I immediately jumped on the chance to spend more time with him.

“So are you originally from around here?” I asked as we walked through Central Park.

“I am. My parents met after my mom moved here from Colombia. My dad lived here all his life. They got pregnant with me on their second date.”

“They worked quick, huh?”

“Sure did.”

We crossed a busy jogging path, continuing on past a loud dog park. Lucky had his ears perked but didn’t appear to want to join in on the chaos. I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t big on crazy crowds, either.

“What about you?” Benji asked.

“I’m from a small town in Iowa. Probably haven’t even heard of it.”

“Try me.”

“Waverly?”

“No fucking way. Waverly, Iowa? Seriously?”

“You’ve heard of it?”

Benji cocked his head and shot me a playful smirk. “No, never.”

“Asshole,” I said. I playfully slapped his chest. It was literally a second’s worth of contact, and yet I could still feel the muscular pecs underneath Benji’s blue T-shirt.

So fucking hot. Jesus.

“What brought you out here?” Benji asked as we continued our walk. We were reaching the edge of the park, near the Upper West Side of the city.

“My hopes and dreams of becoming a Broadway actor .” I said the last bit with a dramatic flair. It helped ease the sting of my statement, something that felt more like a dumb fever dream than an actual goal.

Benji smiled as we came to a stop at a crosswalk. The electronics shop was another fifteen minutes away, so there was plenty of time for us to keep chatting. “I didn’t know you wanted to act. How’s that going?”

“It’s not. I pretty much gave up on it.” The sting in my chest expanded into a dull ache. “I had a few bad experiences with casting directors. Plus, I just wasn’t landing anything and was having a tough time paying the bills. I started camming and made more in a week than I’d ever made before, so I kind of shifted focus.”

Benji shook his head. He had one hand resting casually in the pocket of his black shorts and the other holding Lucky’s yellow leash. Both his veiny forearms had me in a trance as we walked, I was that damn into this man. I had a difficult time looking at him without trying to picture him naked. “What happened with the casting directors?”

“One said I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag—which, okay. Uncalled for. And another one said I needed to rethink my entire career trajectory before it was too late. That one hit harder than the first insult. She sounded like she was actually warning me. So… I don’t know. I guess I listened.”

“Fuck them.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck ’em. No one has a crystal ball. No one should have that kind of power over you.”

“But these are the gatekeepers. They hold all the power.”

“If they keep trying to shut the door in your face, you just have to keep trying to kick it down. Eventually, you’ll get in.”

I chuckled at that. His optimism and hope was refreshing, but not strong enough to revive the spark. It still lingered but definitely wasn’t as bright as it once was.

We crossed the street, Lucky walking between us with his tail wagging. “It just sucks, you know?”

“I can imagine. That kind of shit is brutal to hear. But I do think you should keep going. Maybe take some more classes, focus on what you know your weak spots are so that the next time you go into an audition, you’re basically bulletproof.”

“Maybe…” I chewed on my bottom lip. The sidewalk started to get crowded as we passed a busy restaurant, patrons waiting outside for a seat to open up. This pushed Benji and me closer together. My hand brushed against the back of his, and I was struck with another lightning bolt. “I guess I just lost the spark. Which does suck because acting was my first true love. I remember my mom buying me recorded tapes of big Broadway shows and promising me she’d take me and my sister to see a show. Unfortunately, she passed before she could ever take us.”

“I’m so sorry,” Benji said. There was genuine sadness there. I pursed my lips. Talking about my mom was never easy, no matter how many years separated me from her death. It always felt like it had happened the day before.

“It was aggressive lung cancer. Pretty much came out of nowhere. She had a cough one week, and then a month later, she was dead. It was… it was really fucking hard.”

“Fuck, Eli.”

“Yeah. Still doesn’t even feel real. It’s been five years now. I miss her every single day.” I rubbed my earlobe, a habit of mine that developed shortly after I lost my mom. “How about you and your parents? Close to them?”

My question had two goals. First, I wanted to get off the topic of my own hardships. It made me feel like shit. Second, I wanted to get to know more about Benji. This meet-up was helping me get over the ever-present shitstorm that had been swirling around me these last couple of months. Gave me something else to focus on.

Benji let the silence settle between us, not uncomfortable but weighted. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “My father died when I was in high school, but my family was broken way before then. They both had struggles. Dad was a gambler, and Mom is an alcoholic.”

I glanced up at him, surprised.

“I don’t speak to my mother, not after a fight we had where she said I was her biggest regret,” Benji continued. “It was one of the only interventions I tried having for her.” His jaw flexed. “Didn’t work.”

“Oh no, Benji.” I swallowed, heart heavy. I never would have guessed someone this calm and put together had gone through such heavy struggles.

He gave a small shrug, but it was the kind of shrug that carried too much behind it. “It’s been a long time. But, yeah. That’s part of my story.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The noise of the city filled in the space—distant honking, the low hum of random conversations, Lucky’s little paws clicking on the pavement.

Then Benji smirked as we slowed to a stop. He nudged my elbow with his. “And now that we’ve successfully trauma-bonded, maybe we should get back to business.”

I huffed a laugh, the tension cracking like brittle ice. “Right. Let’s do it.”

He held the door open as we stepped into the electronics store. The smell of plastic and artificial air-conditioning washed over me, the overhead fluorescents making everything feel just a little too sharp. There was a mom and son checking out a large DSLR camera, the clerk standing in front of cluttered shelves of all different kinds of cameras and electronics.

“Alright,” Benji said, scanning the wall. “We need something discreet. Good quality, night vision if possible.” I let him walk ahead of me so I could check out the way his broad back filled out the blue T-shirt he wore.

Fuck.

Focus, Elijah.

We picked out a set of cameras—small, barely noticeable, but good-quality recording. Benji handled the purchase while I scrolled through my messages. No new ones from Nomad.

For now.

I hated that I was scared to even open my messages anymore. I used to find that to be the best part of the job. I loved connecting with people, talking and chatting and sexting. It was fulfilling for me. But now? I was nervous every time I logged on to any of my social media platforms, not just my adult ones. It sapped every ounce of fun I used to have from my job.

And now, I was at a camera store, about to set up hidden cameras inside my own home. All because this person wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone. The weight of the past few days started pressing down on me again. The threats. The messages. The not knowing, the anxiety, the fear.

I started to rub my earlobe, tugging it hard.

Benji must have noticed. “You need a distraction.”

I let out a dry laugh. “I need a lot of things. And yes, a distraction is one of them.”

He opened his mouth, then hesitated. “Well, how about spending the rest of the afternoon with me while I help you set these up?”

I glanced down at the bag in my hand. Installing these cameras likely wasn’t too difficult of a task. I was sure a few quick videos online could walk me through any steps that I didn’t quite understand.

But…

I cocked my head, examined his expression. Those full, pink lips that edged into a smirk. The strong brows that framed his broody dark eyes. That swoosh of black hair that nearly fell down onto his forehead, inviting someone to come along and fix it for him. He seemed so nonchalant. So easy about everything.

How could I say no to an opportunity for more of this?