Leo paused, pissed that he’d said so much. What the hell happened to the short version?
“What?”
Shaking his head, he glanced around the room, unwilling to look her in the eyes anymore. “I just thought it best not to be too nice to you in front of him.”
He made the mistake of glancing up at her. Seeing the strange almost endearing way she was staring at him had him glancing away fast. “What were you going to say?” she asked.
“About what?” He read the text from Orlando to keep his eyes off her.
“About you knowing what you were about to do. But you didn’t finish.”
He always thought it annoying as fuck when someone was messing with his phone when he was trying to talk to him. But now, he was desperate, so he started to respond to Orlando even as he shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Yes, you do.”
Fuck.
With no other choice, he looked up at her. She seemed . . . amused? “I just,” he started to say as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I knew what I was about to do to him would completely contradict what I was trying to make him think by speaking to you that way. It’s why I had to point the gun at you too.”
She seemed to ponder that for a moment. “Do to him? You mean nearly kill him?”
Leo nodded again, trying his best to keep his eyes on his phone, hoping she’d let it go. He responded to Orlando again.
“And what were you trying to make him think?”
God damn it, this girl. Was there anything she ever let go? With a deep breath, he looked her in the eyes and just said it. “That they’re targeting you for no reason because you’re not anyone I care about.”
It sounded harsher than he intended, but this was frustrating as shit. For a moment, she seemed hurt, but then she smirked. “So, you’re saying you beating him the way you did completely contradicts that statement?” What had begun to resemble a wicked smirk turned into curious peering. “Have you ever murdered anyone, Leonardo?”
Leo pressed his lips together. There may have been a lot of things in his past he was ashamed of, but as bad as the answer to this one was, it certainly wasn’t one of them. Leo had always known, if he had to do over again, he would in a heartbeat.
“What do you think, Jelly?”
Nineteen
Allison
Swallowing thickly, Allison reminded herself where she was: in a seedy neighborhood, harboring a convicted felon who still wore blood stains of the man he’d nearly killed. The challenging expression that teetered from a glare to a gaze, had her breathing in deep.
“Jelly?” she asked, lifting her brow before addressing his question.
“Yeah, we’ve been over this,” he said, tightening that jaw.
Refraining from rolling her eyes, she didn’t ask the obvious, why he didn’t like being addressed as Leonardo. She’d save that for another time. Right now, there was something more pressing she needed to address first because she had an inkling of what he might be trying to do.
“Okay, Beast.” She lifted her chin a bit. “I think if you ever murdered anyone you’d still be sitting in jail.”
She kept to herself what Gio had told her about doing their own extensive backgrounds on the guys and his no-exception rule to accepting anyone with violent pasts.
Leonardo smirked, shaking his head. “Because everyone who’s ever murdered someone is locked up?”
Allison thought about that. “Well, I suppose there are exceptions. Many have killed during wars or out of self-defense. Cops have killed in the line of duty, but then those aren’t considered murderers. And I’m not talking about manslaughter either, like accidentally killing someone, so yeah, I think if you were a cold-blooded murderer, you’d be in jail still.”
“Well, then, if that’s the rule, I guess I haven’t.”
Allison shook her head. Was he trying to say something more? But her eyes focused on something more curious now. She’d seen it before on his arm but wasn’t sure what it was because the tattoo over the skin did such a good job of camouflaging it. “Is that a scar on your arm?”
Leonardo glanced down at it and shrugged. “I have lots of scars.”
“I’ve noticed. Can I ask why?”
He did that thing again where his expression and body language said one thing but his mouth was saying another. He’d begun to shake his head but then answered instead. “Rough upbringing. Rough life.” He chuckled dryly, shaking his head again as he threw the bloody shirt from his shoulder onto the sofa. “Guess things never change.”
“Is that a burn?” Allison reached out to point at the scar on his arm and he nodded. “May I?”
Ever since the first day she’d seen all the scars on him, something about them drew her to them. She wanted to touch them—touch him. He didn’t say anything, so she took it as a yes and touched the scar on his big arm gently. It wasn’t exactly random, and touching it, she could see there was a shape to it.
Glancing up quickly, she caught his eyes closed, as if her touch did something to him. “What kind of burn is this?”
His eyes flew open, and like all the other times, they were locked into each other’s gaze. Though his was a bit harder than usual. “The worst kind.” He paused, still staring into her eyes but went on before she could ask him to elaborate. “Not just because it was inflicted when I was a child, but the malice with which it was done. But seriously, Allison, it’s late and you should—”
Her touching the side of his face froze him mid-sentence. Allison was determined to call him out on this. She wouldn’t leave here tonight without getting to the bottom of what it was they were both feeling. Any other girl with half a brain would’ve already run out of there the moment she’d been given the chance. Here Allison couldn’t tear herself away. “Were you an abused child, Beast?” She touched the scars around his forehead and smiled when he closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.
“Something like that,” he whispered as he let his eyes flutter open slowly and gazed at her again.
“What is it about you?” she asked softly—gently. “What is it about this?”
She placed her hand over his incredible chest so he couldn’t even try to deny he was feeling the insanity too. Unable to help it, she smiled when she felt how undeniably hard his heart pummeled against her palm.
“Tell me. What are you feeling right this moment?” She stared into his eyes as her own heart threatened to burst right through her chest.
He placed his own palm over hers. “You don’t need to know.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted, her insides already going crazy.
“Something I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Now he scoffed as dryly as he had earlier, shaking his head, but he didn’t move away the way she was afraid he might. “Why?” He glanced around, motioning with his hand at their surroundings. “Look at where you are.” He sounded a little agitated now. “In this rat-infested hellhole in a neighborhood you shouldn’t be in. Because of me. A felon with blood on his hands—”
“We’re not that different.”
That had him scoffing even louder, and this time he did move away. “When I say I have blood on my hands, I’m not talking about just tonight. To be clear about my earlier answer to your question, yes, I have murdered someone—in cold blood—and I fucking loved every minute of it. I have no business feeling what I’m feeling for someone like you. Nothing good could ever come of it.”
“Because I’m a nice girl?”
She crossed her arms in front of her, not entirely sure she should still be arguing about this. The man had just admitted not only to having murdered someone but to enjoying it. Of course, he could be lying—trying to shock her. What he’d just admitted confirmed that inkling she’d had earlier. That this was just another tactic to push her away. Scare her. Remembering Gio’s assurance that the work-release guys were thoroughly screened relieved the alarm she’d begun to feel over what he’d just admitted.
“
You’re a good guy, Beast. Just because you have a past, doesn’t mean you’re not deserving of a better future.”
“There’s no way . . .” he began to say, but he stopped to stare at her, and she could see it in his eyes: he yearned for this as much as she did.
Once again lost in his gaze, she walked up to him and took his hand, placing it on her chest. “I’m feeling it too. There are no rules when it comes to this stuff. It just happens.”
“You’re eleven years younger than I am, and for me, eleven years is a long fucking time, considering all the things I’ve seen and experienced in life. Stick with Carson. He sounds like the kind of guy your heart should be pounding for. But you should—” He paused but didn’t remove his hand from her chest. “You need to stay away from me.”
“What if I don’t want to?” She slipped a hand into his.
That alone was enough to make her tremble, and she felt him go even more taut. But she refused to stop, and he didn’t pull away. He was feeling this as much as she was. There was no fighting it now. Tilting her face against his hand, she gazed deep into those intense eyes then kissed the side of his hand. “What if I just can’t stay away?”
Without another word or protest, Leo cradled her face and kissed her as she’d never been kissed before—deeply, skillfully, possessively—like he never wanted to stop, and she prayed he didn’t. Allison ran her hands down his arms the way she’d fantasized doing so many times. They were as hard and perfectly sculpted as they looked. As feverishly as he kissed her, every curve of his arm muscles felt flexed to the max. Allison wasn’t sure that was a good or a bad thing.
Concentrating on keeping up with his delicious tongue, Allison could not get enough. His kisses were beyond even what she’d been imagining. Her lady parts were on fire, and already her head was wondering how far this would go.
With a groan, he brought one of his hands down and pulled her to him, holding his hand tightly around her waist. There was no mistaking the enormous erection pressed against her now. It was all Allison could do to keep her legs from giving out on her.
Loud voices and something crashing just outside the apartment had Leonardo pulling away and jumping in front of her. “Get down,” he whispered loudly.
Allison did as her heart walloped with a new reason now. She heard arguing outside then what sounded like various voices yelling and cussing all at once. Leonardo crept over to the window to investigate as the voices got louder and along with more banging and sounds of things breaking.
Allison watched, practically holding her breath as Leonardo shook his head. A few minutes later, the voices finally calmed and then they were gone altogether. Leonardo turned to Allison from the window. “Bunch of junkies going at each other. Probably fighting over drugs. You shouldn’t be here. You need to go. I’m in enough trouble as it is. The last thing I need is for your sister to start a witch hunt if she gets wind that you’re with me tonight.”
She ignored his comments about Lila because, as much as she hated to admit it, telling Lila about this was not happening—not yet anyway—at least until she knew she had good reason to even argue that she believed in her heart of hearts she could trust Leonardo. After that kiss, there was no turning back no matter what he said now. There was no way he could deny feeling everything she’d felt from him just from that one kiss. But there were things she’d meant to ask earlier.
“What about food? Or clean clothes? Is someone bringing that to you?”
Leonardo nodded, opening the front door and looking out as if to check if the coast was clear. “It’s all taken care of and your part in this is done.” He turned to her as she reached him, flinching when he realized just how close she was again. “Thank you for everything,” he said, staring down into her eyes. “I do appreciate it, but I mean it, Allison.” His eyes dropped down to her lips. “I may’ve given into that just now because there was just no way of fighting it, but it can’t happen again. You need to stay away from here. From me. You hear me?”
Allison caressed his face because once again his actions spoke louder than his words. He was this close to kissing her again, and she wanted him to. So bad.
“Allison, please.” He closed his eyes in an almost pained way. “You have no idea what you do to me. But this can’t be. Trust me.” He covered her hand on his face. “You don’t want any part of my life.”
“You can’t know what I want.”
His eyes darkened, going hard on her suddenly. “But I know what you don’t need in your life, and that’s me screwing it all up. Nothing’s happened yet, and already you’ve been attacked and stalked by a guy with a fucking loaded gun. This isn’t happening, Ali. You need to stay away from me.”
As happy as Allison was about finally getting the truth out of him, and as badly as her body would yearn even more for his touch now, she drew the line at begging. The knot in her throat thickened, only there was one thing she needed him to know.
“Carson’s not my type.”
It was a ridiculous statement at a moment like this, and she knew it, but it needed to be said. She’d never had a type in her life only now she knew with every fiber of her being that Leonardo was all she wanted. Something in that gaze touched her deep in her soul. There was so much more to him she wasn’t done learning about, but mostly there was this tender vulnerability she saw beneath the angry glares. The way he’d been so quick to jump to her defense—to risk so much for her—when he hardly even knew her. She knew so little about him still, yet in the short time she’d known him, those moments they’d shared made her feel like she knew him better than most.
Leonardo’s eyes went from hers to her lips then back to her eyes again. “Maybe you should give Carson more of a chance. He sounds like the kind of guy who should be your type. Because I sure as shit shouldn’t be.”
Opening the screen door for her to walk out, she did, glad to be in front of him this time so she could swat the tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “You don’t have to walk me to my car.”
His only response was to keep walking alongside her, looking out in every direction, guardedly. He walked her all the way to her car and waited for her to drive away before she saw him walk back inside.
Even as she drove away, her entire body tingled still from having been touched by him. But the knot at her throat threatened to suffocate her when she remembered how he’d begged her to stay away. How could she feel so heartbroken over this man? She’d only begun to peel away the tons of complicated layers she knew there were yet to be removed. But even more pressing, how in the world was she supposed to stay away from him now?
Twenty
BEAST
“I thought you said he’d been guaranteed they’d be called off?” Leo squeezed the phone as he paced Ron’s small front room.
“He was, but you know he can’t explain a whole lot on those phones,” Orlando reminded him. “All he said was you shouldn’t have to worry about the girl’s safety anymore, but he’d just gotten word about Friday night, and he wanted you to lie low until he heard more.”
“I have to show up at the gym tomorrow, O. As long as I know she’s good, then I’ll take my chances on anyone coming after me.”
“He’s calling back tonight, man. Stay put until at least then. Worst case scenario, if he still insists you stay put, at least wait until morning. Even if you don’t have the go-ahead, I’ll bring you a change of clothes and drop you off at the gym. This way you’re not all alone.”
“Trust me. I’m not worried about that.”
“I know you’re not, ass. But that guy Friday did have a gun. Who’s to say they don’t send someone packing again—after you this time. I’m assuming the only reason he’s not in the hospital is he must have warrants or be on probation or something, but from what I’m hearing, you fucked him up bad.”
That made Leo smile. The asshole had been sent to scare little Ali and he packs a loaded gun? In Leonardo’s experience, the only time cowards used a gun on a girl was when they wer
e using it to force them to keep their mouths shut so they could do more than just scare them. The very thought made him cringe as he felt his nostrils flare involuntarily. “Yeah, well, he deserved it.”
Leonardo decided to take Orlando’s advice and wait until Felipe called again later that evening. But he was also taking Orlando up on his offer to bring him a change of clothes in the morning. His ass would be at the gym tomorrow and on time no matter what his brother had to say about it. Orlando reminded him to keep his phone off for now.
“Pretty sure this guy’s taking off for the day,” Leo warned Orlando.
“Felipe said the latest he’d call would be nine, so don’t turn yours on until then, and I’ll call you around that time.”
Grudgingly agreeing, Leo tossed the phone at Ron when he was done. “Thanks.”
Turned out Ron wasn’t an annoying asshole after all. Leo could only assume his behavior Friday night had been because he was high. But the next morning, Leo had awoken to the smell of bacon and coffee. Ron had fixed them breakfast. Not once did he bring up Allison, and as promised, he asked nothing about Leo’s situation.
The whole day yesterday Ron had kept to himself in his room, but he did hook up the Netflix so Leo could watch something while he went out again since Ron didn’t have cable.
Sunday morning, Ron suggested they either get rid of Leo’s clothes or, at the very least, throw them in the wash, to which Leo agreed, so his shirts were now blood free. Only thing he was still waiting on were his heavy jeans to dry because Leo had asked him not to put those in the dryer. On top of it all, because Leo knew the drill, he’d turned his phone off Friday night after getting the final word from Orlando. The only thing he’d turned it on for since was to get the numbers he needed because Ron said he was free to use his phone anytime he was home. He’d been communicating with Orlando and his probation officer using Ron’s phone ever since. He’d told his probation officer he’d be borrowing phones to check in until he either found his or got another.
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