Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

“You were just being nice,” Bradley cut him off. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with me? You asked me to move cities for you and I threw a tantrum —”

“I was a bit of a dick about it.”

“You’re always a bit of a dick though. So, I should have expected it.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding,” Bradley laughed. He cupped his hand under Sherman’s chin and gave his forehead a kiss. “I’m sorry. I am. And thanks for the offer – to move to Sydney, I mean.”

“Ummm... anytime?” Sherman tried for an awkward laugh.

“I want to – I do, really,” Bradley continued seriously. “And I was thinking about it for most of that walk but —”

“Stop.” Sherman held Bradley back from him, so he could look into his eyes. This was going so much better than he could have hoped, and he didn’t want to risk ruining it. “The offer is there, but we don’t have to talk about it right now, Okay? Instead, how about we go to dinner, try and enjoy our last night in Bali and then, when we’ve had time to think about it, we circle back around?”

Bradley’s chin wobbled and his eyes began to water. “That sounds... that sounds perfect.”

The two men sealed the moment with a romantic kiss, right there in the middle of the parking lot. The sound of the waves lapping at one another echoed in the distance, the orange and red sun slowly set behind them and somewhere nearby a man with a guitar began to busk on the beach. It was as romantic a setting as they had been in all week and it was the perfect way to end their fight and start the next chapter of their lives... whatever that was going to be.

Indeed, the rest of the trip went off without too much worry at all. They had dinner that night at a seafood restaurant called Moi Fish; the two celebrated the end of their holiday by getting very drunk. After dinner they headed back to the hotel for a late-night swim in the pool and more drinks. This was followed by showers, a night of passionate sex, more drinking, more sex and eventually a deep, satisfied slumber.

The next morning was a bit of a rush as they both slept in past their alarms. It was all running and shouting and a race to get their bags packed and make it to the airport. This might have actually been a good thing though as it alleviated any desire to pick up on where they had left things the previous afternoon.

When they did reach the airport, Bradley’s flight was a full hour before Sherman’s. They both collected their tickets, Sherman walked Bradley to the gate and that was where they left it.

“I’ll call you when I land,” Bradley said.

“I’ll call you,” Sherman corrected him. “I’ll be in the air when you land.”

“Right,” Bradley nodded his head. “I’ll call anyway. Leave you a little voice message... maybe something dirty too.”

“Please,” Sherman laughed. “Now I’m expecting it.”

“Dick pic?”

“It better be.”

The two men chuckled. A final call for all passengers flying to Melbourne was announced and just like that, the holiday was over. Sherman kissed Bradley full on the lips and then stood there and watched until he was boarded on the flight and gone.

Before the week had started, Sherman had been looking forward to seeing Bradley. He had harbored fond memories of him from Europe, and their phone calls had cemented their budding relationship as a possibility. Until this week began, Sherman still saw Bradley as a sort of fling, a little bit of fun really. But now...

It had been the best week of his life, bar none. His first attempt to ask Bradley to move to Sydney for him had failed miserably, but that was just because he’d been a bit of a dick. As Sherman settled himself into waiting for his flight to leave, he knew one thing for sure: Bradley would one day move to Sydney and live with him. Of that he now had no doubt.

***

Sherman didn’t like this at all. It was sketchy, almost purposefully so. It was unexpected and a little random, but not in a good way. And worst of all, it was dangerous.

There wasn’t any actual danger yet. Right now, Sherman was safe and sound in the front seat of his car, doors locked and lights off. The car was parked somewhere out west of the city – the exact suburb was one that Sherman had never been too, nor ever thought he would — across the road from a small alleyway, which apparently featured a hidden door at its end. Any moment now, he’d be heading toward that door and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

In his lap was his laptop, opened on a couple of emails — a lot of emails — he was in the process of replying to, and propped up on the dashboard so he could see it clearly was his phone. There was no apparent danger yet, but when that phone rang... well, Sherman would see.

Even with the sense of impending doom hanging over his head the way it was, Sherman was having a hard time paying it as much attention as it probably deserved. His inbox was blowing up right now with distressed emails from clients... literally every single one. The only sense of relief that Sherman could glean from their grievances, and the literal hundreds of emails flying in, was that they all had the exact same problem.

There was a small hiccup occurring in the world of international travel and although it was nowhere near reaching critical mass yet, there was a slight chance that it might soon if something wasn’t done. Unfortunately, there was no clear way to stop it.

A couple of