Needing Read Online Free PDF Page A

out on a trip they needn’t have made.
    To make himself feel better, he said, “Can’t we question the manager anyway?” When Langham didn’t answer, he went on with, “Well, didn’t you check my information first? Didn’t Shields run her name through the database and confirm where she worked?”
    “No. Your information is usually correct so we didn’t—”
    “Ah. Right. My fault. My fuck-up is going to go down so well with Shields. He’ll gloat like the bastard he is.”
    “Fuck Shields.”
    “No thanks.”
    Oliver stormed out of the building, angry with himself and feeling as though he was losing his touch. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to deal with this kind of thing—the voices, the messages—but if he were losing his grip, it would have to wait until he’d helped solve this case. Maybe he just needed sleep. A solid few hours where he wasn’t interrupted.
    Langham came up behind him and laid a hand on his back. The heat from his touch comforted Oliver, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the crook of Langham’s neck and have all this go away. He’d hugged Oliver in the past, all muscled arms and firm chest, and it had felt like nothing else existed except them. He’d entertained the idea of telling him how he felt about him, but it would only complicate things. What if Langham didn’t feel the same? There would be tension between them, totally different to the sexual kind that simmered now, and Oliver couldn’t handle ruining what they had, working by his side knowing Langham was aware he thought about him in that way.
    “Listen, don’t beat yourself up,” Langham said. “Shit happens.”
    “Yeah, it usually does to me, but not like this.”
    “Anything on your mind?” He steered Oliver towards his car and opened the passenger door, ushering him inside.
    Oliver stared up at him from the seat. “That’s a stupid question, Langham. One of the worst you’ve come out with. There’s always something on my mind.”
    He smiled. “Not like that. Not the voices. I mean worries. Shit you need to talk about.”
    “What, like me fucking up? No, I don’t want to talk about that.” He stared out of the windshield, jaw rigid and hands bunched into fists in his lap. “You gonna stand there staring at me for much longer? I mean, it’s cold out, and the door being open? You’re letting in a draught.”
    Langham huffed out a breath. “You are one infuriating, irritating little—”
    “Yeah, yeah. Get it all out. Purge your feelings. Let me know how you really feel, why don’t you.” Oliver knew he was pushing him, but he could never help himself. It was fun, something they just did to one another, and when the car door slammed and Langham strode around the front of the car, Oliver let out his tension in a burst of laughter.
    Langham climbed inside the car then started the engine. “Glad you find it funny.”
    “Of course I do. So would you if the boot was on the other foot.”
    “Bitch.”
    “Bastard.”
    Langham peeled away from the kerb, chuckling himself. “You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?”
    “Yep.”
    “Don’t you think you ought to loosen up?”
    “Why, do you?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Oh, right. So not only am I infuriating and irritating, I’m a tight-arse. Great if some guy winds up with me and likes a tight hole, but… You know what, you have the most charming way of saying things.”
    “As do you.”
    “So, what next?”
    “We go back to the station and find out where the victim—”
    “Louise.”
    “The victim worked. Then we go from there.”
    “Why don’t you ever call them by their names?” Oliver looked across at him, noting his firm jaw, the way a muscle flicked beneath his skin.
    “Because then it becomes personal. I don’t do personal.”
    “Ain’t that the truth,” Oliver muttered.
    Langham glanced at him then returned his attention to the road. “You got something you need to say?”
    “Nope.”
    “Oh,