Page 107 of Strut

“Where was the other camera?”

Gary’s flush deepened, if that were even possible. “Over the bed behind the couch you were sitting on.”

Alec blanched. “Where he would’ve fucked me if I’d let him?”

Gary shrugged but said nothing.

Alec seemed to shrink in on himself. “Are they the only ones? Nothing in the studio itself?” I knew he was hoping the assault had been caught on video.

Gary shrugged. “I don’t think so. They’re the only ones I found, and I checked pretty thoroughly. But he has his regular camera setups in the main studio if he wanted to use those, I guess. But there was nothing in the files that I found.”

Alec shot forward. “You found files?”

“Yes,” Gary said, impatient now. “That’s what I’m saying.That’swhy I’m here. I thought they might help... somehow. I’m always in and out of Darcy’s files—it’s what I do—but he has a million things in the cloud from twenty years of photography, and most of it I’ve never even looked at and have no clue about. It took a while, but I found them.”

“Did you copy them?” Alec’s hopeful gaze tracked to Gary’s bag.

“No.” Gary frowned. “I thought about it, but then figured I was better to leave things alone. Let the police decide what to do. But I got some screenshots to show them and I’ve said nothing to Darcy.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “You did the right thing.”

Gary looked relieved. “To be honest, if I’d stumbled on them without any background, I might not have thought much about them. It’s not uncommon for a model to have a thing for their photographer, you know. I’d have just thought they were private. Besides, it does happen, you know, what he accused you of.”

Alec tensed and I put a restraining hand on his knee.

Gary flushed to his hairline, quickly adding, “I’m not saying that was the case with you, but if I’d seen them, I guess I would’ve thought they were consensual.” He worried his lip for a second. “There were other files, not just yours.”

* * *

It was eleven by the time we got back to the apartment after more interviews with Detective Ronald Green. Gary had repeated everything in an official statement, shown Ron the screenshots, and there’d been a glint of satisfaction in Ron’s expression that gave me hope. Gary had legitimate access to the files and Ron had asked Gary if he could continue to work and keep quiet about what he’d found until they could get a search warrant. Gary agreed.

There was still nothing concrete to support Alec’s sexual assault charge, but if the video footage and cameras were secured, there were grounds for charges on that illegality alone. Ron had been less pleased about our social media campaign, but after viewing the posts, he was happy enough that we’d kept Darcy’s name out of it and assured us they’d be checking the threads to identify any potential contacts.

It wasn’t everything we’d hoped for, but Alec kept his disappointment under wraps. It was a start. Just the sniff of professional misconduct at an official level and Darcy’s career in fashion would be done. Not to mention the other sexual assault complaints against him would stay on record.

We put Gary in a cab outside the station and then caught one ourselves and fell into the apartment exhausted and starving, having had nothing since lunch other than a bag of Doritos and a cup of bad coffee. I headed straight for the kitchen to whip up some egg and bacon butties while Alec made a couple of calls home swearing everyone to secrecy. When that was done, he called a relieved Tim who’d almost chewed off his nails worrying he’d fucked up sending Gary over. It was some good news after a tough couple of days.

Alec sat on the couch with his plate in his lap looking pale and shattered. He stared at his food like he didn’t even see it, and my heart broke for him. Best-case scenario still saw Darcy getting away with the worst of what he’d done to Alec, and I couldn’t change that. That was the worst part. I couldn’t give that to him.

He blinked and looked up, managing a smile that almost touched his eyes.

“Scoot over.” I waved him along the couch and then nestled beside him. We ate in silence, scrolling through social media until he finally threw his phone on the chair and put his plate with his uneaten half sandwich on the coffee table. “Every time I see those photos, I feel sick. I keep wondering what else I did in front of that camera, thinking I was alone. Probably gave myself a couple of tugs, as you do—fuck.” He fell back and stared at the ceiling.

I put my plate aside and took his hand. “That’s a sure-fire way to torment yourself. Come here.” I tugged him over and into my arms. “I am so proud of you.” I peppered the words between kisses to his face. “And you are so damn sexy, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so damn tired is what I am,” he answered, slow-blinking from exhaustion.

“Come on.” I wriggled to my feet and pulled him up with me. He swayed and I put an arm around his waist and steered him toward the bedroom. “Let’s get you to bed.”

I wasn’t sure he even opened his eyes as I laid him on the bed and slowly stripped him until he was naked. Then I pulled the covers up to keep him warm, and a minute later I joined him. I rolled him onto his side, facing away from me, which meant I could spoon from behind and keep him wrapped in my arms. He hummed contentedly and wriggled back against me, hot skin to hot skin, and I thought it might just about be the best feeling ever.

I pulled the hair back from his ear and whispered, “I love you.”

He mumbled something and gave a huge sigh, and just like that, he was asleep.

I smiled against his hair and pressed kisses to his shoulder as his breathing slowed.

This.Thiswas what it was all about.Thiswas living. This waseverything.

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