“We know,” Sarah said, squeezing my hand again.
“I got an idea. Why don’t you tell us about him?” Shawn said.
I recognized the tactic. Classic Emotional Lifeline 101. I’d used the same move on clients who were spiraling. Shawn meantto divert my focus and give me something else to hold onto. I didn’t want to talk, but panicking wasn’t going to teleport us there faster or change anything happening in real time. So I humored him.
Despite the dread of the situation, once I started, I found myself sharing everything about Oliver: how we met, minus the trauma details, just the parts that were mine to share; how we became friends; how it became something more. And then I started sharing all the small things about Oliver that made him him.
“One day, I walked past his office and heard him talking. I thought he was on a call, but then I realized he was talking to this potted plant he keeps on his desk.” The memory forced a smile out of me. “Full pep-talk mode, telling it he was proud it had grown a new leaf. Hyping it up. Cutest thing I’ve ever seen. That’s who Oliver is. Soft, and sweet, and gentle with the world, even when the world hasn’t been gentle with him.”
“You love him,” Dean said.
“Yeah, I do. And I know it sounds cheesy as hell, but he’s everything I didn’t know I was missing.”
“Aww, my sweet gay heart can’t handle this. I cannot wait to meet this man properly, tonight does not count,” Shawn said. “I need a real introduction. Preferably with cocktails, charcuterie, and a fully sanctioned gossip exchange. A man who turns our Luke into a Disney leading man? I’m already obsessed. And selfishly, can I also say I’m thrilled to no longer be the lone rainbow beacon on this team. Representation looked stunning draped across these shoulders, but even diamonds crack under pressure. Thankfully, the LGBTQ luminosity of this squad has officially doubled, praise be.”
I huffed out a weak laugh.
“There we go, that’s the Luke we all know and love. It’s going to be alright,” Shawn said.
Finally, the community center came into view and Shawn swung into a parking space. Not waiting for the engine to turn off, I shoved the door open and bolted toward the entrance. Sarah called after me, but I didn’t slow down. Any professional objectivity I might have had if this were a client’s case had flown out the window the second the situation involved Oliver.
Inside, I followed the posted signs until I reached the meeting room doorway. My eyes swept the space. No Oliver.
A lone man stacked chairs at the far side of the room. I crossed to him. “Hi, are you the facilitator who runs the DV group that just wrapped up?”
The man straightened, friendly curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Hi, yes, I’m Elijah.”
“I’m Luke. One of the attendees of this group, Oliver, is my...” Boyfriend is what I wanted to say, but I didn’t know if Oliver had shared that part of his life in this space and I didn’t want to share something that was his to reveal. “Housemate,” I finished instead.
“Oh, yes, Oliver brings you up in group almost every time he shares. It’s evident you’re important to him. And you also work for Stone Protective Services?” he asked, gesturing to my work polo that had the firm’s logo and name embroidered across it.
“Yes, that’s right,” Sarah’s voice answered. I turned to find all four of them standing beside me.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Elijah continued. “If you’re here for Oliver, I’m afraid he left a little bit ago with the new attorney our group partnered with. Which, I believe, we were able to obtain through one of your firm’s outreach connections, so thank you. You just missed them. Is everything okay?”
“No. Vincent is Oliver’s—” I stopped myself again before I shared more than I had a right to. I went with something stripped of detail but pointed enough to land. “He’s the reason Oliver attends this group.”
Elijah’s brow furrowed. “So he’s not helping Oliver with a case about his father?”
“What? No? Is that what Vincent said?”
“Yes, he said he and Oliver had an appointment after this meeting in fact.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Dean stepped forward. “How long ago?”
“Maybe five minutes,” Elijah said, pointing toward a side hallway. “They left through that exit, to the back parking lot.”
“Thank you,” I said rushing out the way he directed.
We burst through the metal push-bar door, the night air slapping against my face. My eyes scanned the lot. At the furthest end, a sleek luxury vehicle gleamed beneath the halo of a streetlight, and beside it stood two figures. I didn’t need to be closer to identify them as Vincent and Oliver.
I ran. Sprinting toward them, the scene sharpened with every stride: Vincent had his arms cinched around Oliver’s torso, hauling him toward the open passenger door. Oliver struggled, but panic had him reverting to every instinct I’d warned him against during training—pulling, twisting, giving Vincent control instead of breaking it. They hadn’t noticed me yet. My hand flew to my holster, thumb brushing the snap, but I didn’t draw. It hadn’t crossed the line for lethal force, and if Oliver could reclaim his power here, I wanted him to have that win.
“Oliver!” I yelled. “Remember your center of gravity, take back control.”
His head snapped up, turning toward me. As if my voice, my presence, split the ice that had him frozen, his body moved with sudden intent. Every lesson I’d drilled into him in our defense sessions came alive in the space of a heartbeat.
