“This place. Right here. In your arms.” She smiled when his lips hit her ear.
“Okay,” he laughed. “Your second favorite then.”
She thought on it. “Paris. I’ve never been, but it’s always been at the top of my bucket list. Whenever I see pictures of it, a weird calm comes over me.”
“Let’s go tomorrow.”
Her eyes shifted in the darkness.
He sat up and pressed a kiss to the edge of her ear, staying there for a long moment. “I want to marry you, Zo.”
Zoey lifted her hand from her stomach. His remained. She reached up to cup his cheek, still staring ahead.
“We are getting married, Val.”
His heavy swallow filled the air. “I want to get married tomorrow. In Paris.” He tried to pull her closer, but she was already as close as she could get. “Let’s pack one bag, get dressed, and go to the airport right now. We’ll take the first flight out.”
Zoey turned her head and caught his eyes in the darkness. “It’s 3:00 a.m. The airport isn’t even in operation right now.”
“It will be by the time we’re done getting dressed.”
“Val…”
“Tomorrow night, then.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?” She trailed her fingers along his stubbly jaw.
“Why aren’t you?”
“Because I know that we love each other, and that there’s no need to rush. In fact, if I’m being totally honest, I’d much rather wait until I have the baby, so I won’t be a pregnant bride.”
“I can’t wait that long, Zo. Please.”
“It’s almost like you’re afraid it isn’t going to happen.”
When he didn’t respond, Zoey leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. She sat up and turned, meeting his eyes. Her back straightened at what she saw in them.
He sat up too, leaning against the gray headboard, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his hands in his hair.
Zoey gripped his flexed bicep. “Val, what’s going on with you? Please tell me why you’re acting so strangely. Trying to elope without the family? Disappearing inside your head constantly, refusing to tell me why? How can I be a good wife to you if you won’t share with me what’s hurting you?” She scooted in closer. “Are you… sleeping with another woman? You can tell me.”
He laughed.
Zoey was relieved to see it was genuine, and her hand tightened around his arm, wanting more of the sound. “You and I did become an item pretty suddenly, Val. It must be difficult to go from serial womanizer to engaged with a baby on the way, all in one fell swoop.” Her eyes fell. “Is that why you still haven’t finished putting together the crib? Or any of the other baby stuff?” She lifted a shoulder. “Do you miss your old life?”
“Baby. No.” He cupped her cheeks, running his thumbs back and forth. “I’m so excited about our son--”
“Daughter.”
“I don’t even know what to do.” He carried on as if he hadn’t heard her. “There’s nothing I’ve ever been more excited about. And, honestly, making love with you? I’ll never be able to get it up for another woman again.”
“I’m going to start making notes of when you say things like that, so I can use it all against you once we’re old and gray.”
“I’d love nothing more than to make it to old and gray with you.”
“Would we be getting married if we didn’t believe we could?”
Val’s eyes fell as he caressed her cheeks. “What if I did something worse than sleeping with another woman? Something… unforgivable? Would you grow old and gray with me then?”
“It doesn’t matter. Because you could never do anything I would find unforgivable.”
“What if I did?”
“Did you?” Zoey beamed, raising her eyebrows.
Val looked away.
Her eyes widened.
“Tomorrow,” he said, looking back. “Please, Zo, just marry me tomorrow.”
“What about the family?” Her heartbeat picked up. “Bette will be devastated if we have the ceremony without her.”
“Then we’ll bring her along.”
“Getting married tomorrow is not going to fix whatever is ripping you up inside, Val. Only talking about it will do that. And, honestly… I’m going to have a hard time marrying a man who won’t talk to me. It really hurts, you know, being with a person who closes all your wounds, and not being able to do the same in return.”
“You do close my wounds, baby. You have no idea.”
“You’re right, I don’t have any idea, because you won’t tell me.”
“Maybe it’s only a matter of time before I split all your wounds right back open.”
Her jaw went slack, and she sputtered.
Val sighed and collapsed back against the headboard, staring ahead. “I feel like you don’t want to be married to me, at all.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“Well, that’s how I feel, Zo. You’re demanding honesty from me, and that’s the most honest I can be. I feel like you don’t want to marry me.”
“Of course I do. I just don’t understand, why the rush?”
“Why not?”
She jolted, releasing his arm. He reached for hers, but she snatched it away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m just…”
When he didn’t finish, she sighed. “I feel like we’ve taken twenty steps backwards. The way you’re acting makes me feel like this is high school all over again.”
His eyes went ripe with grief.
“It’s starting to feel exactly like high school.” Her voice shook. “When you were the reason I felt broken and the reason I felt healed, all at the same time. I don’t know what changed with you over these last few months, but it’s feeling really familiar, and I don’t want to go back to that.”
Val took her jaw, leaned in and covered her lips with his. His kiss lingered, and he pulled away with a moan before moving in again, with more intent.
“Does this feel like high school?” he asked between soft kisses.
A strangled purr left her lips when he kissed her again, dipping his tongue out to wet her bottom lip before sucking it between his own.
“No, Val.” Her words were strained, and even as her center warmed at his taste, she found the strength to set her hands on his shoulders. “It does,” she said, responding to the confused look in his eyes. “It does feel like high school. Back when you would break my heart in the halls and then sneak into my bedroom at night. When you caused my pain at school and then kissed it better under the sheets. We’re not kids anymore. You can’t just hurt me at your leisure, shut me out, and then just kiss it better. I’m a real person, Val.” She covered his heart with her hand. It was pounding so hard it left her breathless. “You have to open up to me in a real way.”
She saw something shift in his eyes. Something that parted his lips. He went to speak, but then he frowned and clapped his mouth shut, as if the voices in his head had talked him out of it.
Zoey blinked, stunned when he released her and turned his back, slamming his fists into the pillow before pushing his head into it.
A long silence blew by with Zoey staring at his back. “That’s it?” She pushed him.
He didn’t lift his head. “If you won’t marry me tomorrow, then yeah. I’m going back to sleep. I have an early day at Novsky.”
Zoey scoffed, turning away from him and slamming her head into her pillow as well.
They both stared into space for the rest of the night, but neither spoke another word.
***
After peeling away the various arms and legs locked around him and stumbling out of bed, Leo moved down the hallway, scratching his stomach, hearing a vacuum roaring in the distance.
“Good morning, Consuela,” he said, moving into the living area just in time to see Consuela vacuum up a chunk of red hair. A chunk that belonged to the hungover woman sleeping on his couc
h.
“Ow!” The redhead tumbled off the couch and thudded to the floor, gripping her skull and looking up at Consuela with heated eyes. “Consuela! My hair!”
Consuela kicked off the vacuum and exploded into rapid-fire Spanish, jabbing her cleaning glove every which way as she presented the trashed apartment. The party the night before had been a rager, leaving Consuela with her work cut out for her that morning.
“Pinche puta,” Consuela cried. “Yo chingé a tu madre.”
The redhead stumbled to her feet with a frown, clutching her purse to her chest as she hurried out of the living room, still holding her skull in her hand.
“Your maid is fucking insane, Leo!” she said on her way to the door.
Leo poked his lips out, still blinking the sleep from his eyes as she snatched open his front door. “You don’t have to leave, uhhh, ahhh…”
She cringed from the door. “Amy!”
“I know. Of course your name is Amy. I knew that—” He winced when she slammed the door behind her, and moved his eyes back to the living room. He smiled. “Good morning, Consuela.”
“Pinch mamon. Pervertido.”
“No, really.” He covered his heart with his hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“Bueno pa nada. Puto!”
“I did get a new haircut, thank you so much for noticing. Big date tonight. I want to look good, you know?” He made his way into the kitchen with a grin, pouring a glass of orange juice.
Consuela’s rant carried on, and Leo smiled around his glass, hardly able to contain his excitement for his date with Ashley Williams.
***
As the sun set in Westchester, Tony Romanovsky’s eyes dashed between his three sons, all situated in different areas of the family’s expansive balcony.
“I spoke to King,” Tony said, straightening when Gary, Val and Roman’s eyes all shot to him at once. “And, yes, someone on the inside got access to the mug shot.”
Val collapsed onto his elbows against the balcony’s stone railing, letting his head fall.
Roman gave the sliding glass doors behind him most of his weight, fingering a box from his pocket and bringing it to his lips, teething out a cigarette. He went into his back pocket, scooped out the red lighter Ashley Williams had handed him the day before, and lit it. Keeping the lighter clasped in a fist, a tight laugh escaped his lips after he took a hearty drag, sending white smoke fluttering into the air.
“He told us he got rid of it. He told us it didn’t even exist anymore.” Val craned his neck toward Tony.
“He removed the mug shot from every local server in Jersey,” Tony said. “But not the universal one. Said if he’d attempted to make the universal shot go away, it would’ve triggered a lot of questions. Questions that would’ve buried us.”
“Questions that would’ve buried him,” Roman spat. “He didn’t do it for us. He did it for himself. Val’s face has been sitting on a universal server for ten years, and King never thought it necessary to tell us?”
“So a cop pulled it,” Val said. “Which cop?”
Gary leaned forward from where he sat at the small patio set in the middle of the balcony, shaking his head.
“He doesn’t know,” Tony answered. “But he says he’s going to find out and take care of it.”
Val pushed off the balcony. “Well if he says he’s going to take care of it…”
Tony shot him a look. “He’s been taking care of it for the last ten years, and I trust him to take care of it now.”
“Just like his son is going to ‘take care’ of Novsky?” Roman pulled another drag from his cigarette, holding Tony’s icy gaze the moment it came back to him. “Just like he ‘took care’ of Angie’s office?”
“Just like he’s going to take care of us?” Gary chimed in, lowering his eyes when Tony’s gaze blazed fire his way.
“We can’t trust him, Pop,” Val said.
“We have no choice but to.”
“So that’s it?” Roman cringed, tossing his cigarette. “We stand around like a bunch of chumps afraid of our own shadows, thanking our master Victor King when he decides to throw us a few scraps and spare our lives?”
Tony looked away.
Roman spoke to his cheek. “The closer he gets to the presidency, the more paranoid he’s going to become. Eventually, our silence will not be enough to keep him away from our family.”
Gary craned his neck to look at Roman. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we need to get this son of a bitch before he gets us.”
“No.” Val pushed away from the railing and faced them. “Going after King means putting Ma, Zo and Leo at risk.” Val’s eyes went to Roman across the balcony. “It’s bad enough you and Angie have gotten dragged into this. The only thing keeping you both safe was not knowing the truth.” Val took a deep breath. “If we go after King, we might as well throw our family to the wolves.”
“So we cower,” Roman said.
“We’re not cowering.” Tony’s voice rose. “We’re sending a message. Reassuring King that we won’t fuck with him if he doesn’t fuck with us.”
“Until he does.” Roman’s voice jumped a few notches too. “He burned my girlfriend’s office to the ground. I know it was him, and so does she, even if she won’t admit it. She hasn’t been herself, she’s not sleeping, she’s not eating… You’re asking me to wait around in silence, hoping he won’t eventually come around and ensure her mouth stays closed too? All of our mouths?”
Gary breathed in. “Maybe we should just go to the police—”
Scoffs sped in from every angle. Val turned his back, and so did Tony, both going to the railing. Gary looked up and caught Roman’s eyes, the only member of his family who hadn’t turned away from him.
“Nobody’s going to the police,” Tony said, taking in the expansive backyard. “We’re okay. We’re floating. We got on top of it that night, just in time, and stopped the processing before Val’s papers could be computerized. His prints weren’t taken. There is only a mug shot with no trail. They cannot connect him to the Blacks. We just need to keep our mouths shut, our heads down, and this will all go away on its own.”
“Rome?” Gary asked, hoping to get Roman on his side.
Roman smiled around the new cigarette he was lighting, and then cringed as he shoved the lighter back into his pocket. “Ten years, Gar, and you still can’t see what’s right under your nose.” He yanked the burning stick from his lips. “King is the police. There is no one in New York or New Jersey that does not answer to him. Not a single precinct that won’t turn a blind eye.”
“And he’ll take us all out.” Val turned his head from where he leaned on the balcony. “If we go to the police. He’ll take us all. And that includes Zo.” He faced Gary. “Is that what you want, Gar?”
Gary’s wide eyes searched Val’s, looking like he had more fight, then he looked away. “No.”
“So we cower.” Roman turned to the balcony doors and pulled them open.
“Where you going?” Tony demanded.
“Home.” Roman tossed his cigarette and turned back to them. “To cower with my girlfriend. Call me when you’ve all grown a pair.”
They watched Roman go, and their silence was louder than ever before.
10
Another night fell with no leads from the cameras and microphones Jessica had planted. Not even from the lighter she’d given Roman, who she’d been thrilled to learn was a problem smoker. For a moment, she’d been convinced that lighter was going to close her case, but was quickly disappointed to learn that, while the Romanovskys sure did love to argue, they rarely said anything. They spoke extensively about King, about the Blacks, about that fateful night ten years earlier, but not once had they named a killer. Not once had they said a single actionable word. Neither had King. Jessica was beginning to worry that her controversial investigating style was going to prove useless with this family. Never in her life had she experienced so many people who seemed to speak in
code by nature.
Val was the worst of them all. On the rare occasion he did speak, it was always work related, even when he was at home with Zoey, who had to beg for his conversation. His silence with his fiance told Jessica that the weight of what he’d done was beginning to get to him, sinking in so deep that she and Chet had begun making bets on when Val would crack. Chet thought he had another few months’ worth of lies left in him, but would explode once his baby was born. The guilt of seeing his child in the flesh would be too much to take.
Jessica didn’t even give him until the end of the month. After years on the force, she knew when she was looking at a man bursting to be free. Free from his guilt. Free from his crime. Free from his lies. A thirst for freedom could bust open the tightest of lips, and it had, many times before. Val was losing strength. They just had to wait him out.
She pushed open the steel door to her office, stepped out into the alleyway, and came face to face with her older brother, Leroy Borgia.
Leroy worked as her personal security guard. Since this was her private office, meant to separate her from FBI headquarters when she was working undercover, she felt better knowing she had eyes on the ground floor. It was also a great way to keep her brother working, since no one else was willing to give him a job with his criminal record.
Leroy’s left eye traveled her body with a whistle. If his right eye hadn’t been shot off during a gang dispute in his teens, it would be crinkling with the same laughter of his left.
“A dress?” His belly jiggled as a chortle raced through him. “Who died?”
She straightened the dress. It was a midi cut, falling just below the knee. Quarter length sleeves covered her elbows, and the scooped neckline left her breasts on the verge of escape from where she’d wrestled them into a push-up bra. This was Leo she was dealing with, after all.
“I’m working, and this guy loves a plunging neckline.” She fingered her hair to the side when it swooped down over her eye. She’d parted it deep, and it was now occurring to her that she’d be shoving it out of her face all night. Her lips finished the sultry look, bright red and inviting.
Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) Page 11
