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

Bradley gave his head a shake and the two men went back to enjoying their lunch together. They chatted, they laughed, they planned their evening at home together like nothing was wrong. And that’s because nothing was.

Sherman was trying his best in all facets of their relationship. It was almost like he was going out of his way not to be a burden. When Bradley left each morning now, it was always with a kiss and a smile and a command to have the best day possible. And when he returned – no matter how late – Sherman was again nothing but positive. Not once did he chastise about the late return time, or whine about being left at home all day long. Sherman had done a complete turn-around.

It was thus inevitable that Bradley became suspicious.

“So... what have you been doing today?” Bradley asked casually. It was a couple hours after lunch, and the two men were sitting together watching Netflix. The show wasn’t important, just one they’d been coming back to every now and then, but the mood was relaxed.

“This mainly,” Sherman shrugged. “And a little of that.”

“Right... this and that.” Bradley took a forkful of chicken and slowly began to chew. “TV?” he pressed. “Watch anything – nothing good though. Save the best for us, obviously.”

“Nope,” Sherman responded pleasantly. “Too busy cooking this – oh! For dinner tonight, I’m thinking of doing a full bake dinner. Chicken, potato's, pumpkin, onion and gravy. What do you think?”

“Sounds good...” Bradley said slowly. He took another bite of his chicken. “Do we have all of that?”

“I stepped out earlier and bought it – I know, I know, I should have let you know in case I got lost trying to find the supermarket.” He giggled to himself and shook his head at the joke. “But I got in and out in one piece. I tell you what, Sherman from last month would be so proud of me.”

“That he would.”

It was silly. Stupid. Ridiculous. And also, wrong. But Bradley could just tell that something wasn’t right here. Sherman was too happy, too bright, too enthusiastic about such mundane things. If it had only been a week or so, Bradley would have just assumed he was over-correcting from before – that's what Bradley had assumed! But it had been over a month now and Sherman was this same positive self. It was odd.

That night, Bradley searched the house for drugs. It was a low moment, but he had no choice. He needed to know. He had to! He was sure that there wasn’t anything – there'd been no indication that Sherman was using again. But considering how odd everything had been... he needed to know.

He waited until Sherman was in the shower to check. Then he did a complete sweep of the house, checking all the hotspots that Sherman used to use. Nothing. He listened for a moment to make sure that the shower was still running, then he widened his search. Still nothing.

Bradley wanted to believe that everything was fine... but there was that voice nagging away at the back of his head. Now especially that he was starting to realize Sherman had all day to himself to get his fix. Maybe that’s why his mood was always so damn high.

“What are you doing?” Sherman suddenly appeared in the doorway to the spare room. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and was still wet.

“Oh!” Bradley was on his knees, looking under the bed for only God knew what. “Hey! Just looking for...” Up and walking to Sherman now, the next words out of his mouth seemed to come from nowhere. “I’m going to be out all day tomorrow.” It was a lie. “Probably until at least... seven at night, I think. Is that all right? You’ll be fine?”

Sherman thought for a moment, the briefest of moments, and then shrugged. “That’s fine, I’ll be here.”

“You won’t be bored?” Bradley pressed casually.

“Nope.”

“What will you do?”

“I dunno – what's with all the questions?” he laughed. “Getting into character?”

“Something like that – oh, check this out.” Bradley suddenly remembered something. He stepped past Sherman and hurried to the bedroom. On the floor were his pants from earlier, so he crouched down and pulled his police badge out from the pocket.

“What’s that?” Sherman was standing right behind him.

Bradley stood and handed him the badge. “Looks real, huh.”

“So real.” Sherman looked it over. “Just no method acting, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Bradley agreed lightly as he took the badge back. “If you catch me being a hard ass over the next few days, this is why.”

“Lucky you won’t be here.”

“Lucky.”

The guilt flooding through Bradley was unbelievable, but he told himself he had no choice. He needed to prove to himself that everything with Sherman was on the level... that his suspicions were unfounded. Once he was able to do that, once he knew for sure, then this relationship would surely go to another level. Maybe then he’d finally be able to say, “I love you.’

As the two men climbed into bed later that night, that was the lie that Bradley told himself over and over again. He had to, otherwise he might have drowned over the guilt.

Chapter Twenty

After a solid five weeks of weekly meetings, Sherman was starting to reach a point in his life where the idea of having to see Curly – and his crew – in the flesh, didn’t have him shaking in absolute fear. Seriously, he used to wake up on the mornings of these proposed meetings covered in a cold sweat. He used to have minor panic attacks in the shower. The drive to Curly’s clubhouse were filled with positive affirmations and assurances from himself that everything would be fine. It used to really