“Freddy was dead when I got there. Remember Dominic DeMeo?”
“Yes.” I remembered Dominic DeMeo shooting at us. I was fortunate he hadn’t hit me by accident.
“He killed Freddy before I got there. He’s the one who shot me. He wanted the thumb drive.”
“Not me?” My stomach felt as if it sank through the floorboards. Dominic was one of my father’s guys. Why wasn’t he looking for me?
Leon’s eyes were on me, but I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want him to read the pain and betrayal I felt.
He put his good arm around me and pulled me close. I leaned against him, shutting my eyes on the world because suddenly it all felt like too much to handle.
Leon explained everything he’d learned from Dominic DeMeo. How one of my father’s men had conspired with a Sartini capo, and how both of them plotted to have me killed using Leon. All for that stupid USB drive with the stolen crypto keys or wallets or whatever it was.
That damned thing had upended my world and nearly ended my life. It was like a curse.
“Where’s the drive now?” I asked Leon.
His face grew guarded. “Why?”
“I want to send it back to my father. He can deal with it if it means more to him than I do.”
“I’m not giving it back to your father.” Leon withdrew his arm from around me. He stood and put on one of the new shirts we’d bought. Then he started loading the fireplace with kindling and tinder for a fire. He was using his wounded arm as if he hadn’t been grazed by a bullet. As if the pain he must feel was nothing to him.
“You need to go easy on that arm,” I snapped, annoyed that he was so determined to look tough. Especially when the only person here was me, and that wasn’t why I’d slept with him. That wasn’t why I was still here.
“It’s fine,” he growled, continuing to do as he damned well pleased.
But it wasn’t fine. Not by a long shot. “That USB drive doesn’t belong to you.”
He didn’t look at me. I stared holes into his broad back as he continued to make the fire. Minutes ago, I’d wanted the fire burning. Now it annoyed me because it seemed like his excuse not to face me like an adult.
“Did you hear me?” I repeated when he didn’t bother to answer.
He glanced back at me, his green eyes cold. “I’m not giving it to your father. You’re asking too goddamn much.”
I stood slowly. His voice was as cold as it had been when he’d first aimed a gun in my face. And those eyes were frightening again. Did he know how cold and intimidating his stare could be? Did he know that, after everything we’d been through together, I’d never expected him to look at me that way again?
“You want it for yourself, then?” I demanded. “I knew you were a killer. I didn’t think you were greedy.”
Leon stiffened, and I knew my words had cut him. Probably sliced deeper than the bullet that kissed his arm.
“You can go crawling back to your father if you want,” he snarled. “But the drive stays with me. Think of it as a blood payment for killing my brother.”
He turned back to the fire, lighting a match and holding it to the tinder, watching as the flames caught and spread.
His words about his brother stung, but what hurt most was Leon’s scornful comment about me crawling back to my father. The father who’d involved me in all of this against my will. The father who’d used me and put my life at risk.
I was bleeding too, only no one could see it.
I needed to know if I meant anything more to Leon than being someone to fuck and patch him up when he was hurt.
Even if I did mean more than that to him, what of it? Hadn’t I just realized that I couldn’t live my life this way? Not just on the run but falling in love with Leon and never knowing when he would be killed or sent to jail. I didn’t want to stay awake every night, afraid he would never come home.
“What are you going to do with me now?” I asked him softly.
The question felt very different than when he’d first kidnapped me and I’d been afraid he would hurt me. After everything we’d gone through together, after last night, the question had no fear but far more weight.
The fire was crackling and popping now. Leon stood and turned to face me.
