Needing by Sarah Masters Page B

them act as they would prior to the experiments, and some switch or whatever was flicked, turning the human lab rats into freaks who went about doing abhorrent things? The owner of Privo was one sick bastard—if it was even him doing this shit—and Oliver couldn’t wait to bring him down.
    The snap of Langham’s mobile phone closing brought Oliver out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes and turned to face the detective, who grimaced as though it had caused him pain to speak to Shields. Oliver knew that feeling. He hated the wanker with a vengeance.
    “Come on, we’ve got to wait for someone to turn up here then we’re going to Saltwater Street.” Langham strode towards his car and got in.
    Oliver stared for a moment in shock. Langham usually made some caustic remark about Shields when he’d spoken to him. Something had pissed him off for him to just walk away like that.
    In the car, Oliver asked, “So, what’s up?”
    Langham started the engine, letting it idle while he stared ahead and flexed his jaw. Oliver watched the way the muscle flickered beneath the skin and fought the urge to lean over and lick it—lick up to that soft-as-fuck earlobe and suck it into his mouth. His cock twitched, and he brought the image of Mark dead on his bed to mind to stop his dick growing harder.
    “You okay, man?” He kept his gaze on Langham.
    “Will be in a minute. Just got to digest what that prick said.”
    Oliver remained silent, unwilling to press Langham. When he acted like this, it was best to leave him be—he’d come around in his own time. After several minutes sitting in silence, though, Oliver grew antsy for an answer. The distant wail of a police siren prevented him prompting Langham again, and he sat with his mouth firmly closed until the cops arrived to secure the scene.
    Langham spoke to them through his window then sped off towards the city. Still silent. Oliver clamped his teeth shut. Bit his lip. Rubbed a spot on his jeans as though they were dirty.
    He couldn’t take this any longer. “Okay, so what did Shields say?”
    “He knows I’m gay. That we’re gay.”
    “What? How the fuck did that come up in conversation? What the shit has it got to do with this case?”
    “Everything, according to him. Reckons we shouldn’t be working together if we’re fucking.”
    “But we’re not!”
    “No, but we will be.”
    Oliver stared ahead at the road speeding beneath them. “But he doesn’t need to know that. We can keep it quiet. No bastard needs to know. We’ll deny it. Simple. They can’t prove anything unless they follow us around all damn day to see where we go and whether we stay over at one another’s houses. Fuck, we haven’t even got that far yet!” He sat quietly for a minute, then asked, “And like I just said, how did that come up in conversation?”
    “I mentioned Alex Reynolds, and he said he’d wanted to talk to me about him. Said the guy had called in earlier as a concerned citizen and told them we’re fucking. Said Alex thought that wasn’t right seeing as we work together. And he’s right, but fucking hell! This Alex guy knows that about us? How? We’ve never shown anything in public, and until earlier we’d never even shown one another. Has he been watching us since this started? Since he followed you as you left Louise’s death site?” He slapped the steering wheel. “That’s what the wanker’s done. He’s been keeping tabs on us. Shields said Alex had given him your licence plate number, lied and said he’d seen us kissing outside PrivoLabs.”
    “That’s bullshit. We got straight into the car after we’d been there and drove off.”
    “I know that, but Shields doesn’t. And let’s face it, he’d believe anything bad someone said about us. You especially.”
    “Arsehole can find a cliff and jump the fuck off it.”
    Langham’s rumble of laughter made Oliver smile.
    “I love it when you’re riled,” Langham said.
    “Yeah, well, that bloke rubs me up the