Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

LEO

When I get home, I force myself to shower and start dinner before I reach out to Tyshawn. I've been thinking about him all day. If it didn't make me seem overeager, I would have sent him a text as soon as he stepped out of the door of Ray's.

This is stage five clinger behavior and I know it. When something is mine, I claim it. It's how I'm wired. Most people would think it's psychotic, and I don't disagree. That comes with the territory of being a psychopath.

Asking Ty on a date is as close to claiming him as I could get without tipping him off that I'm not completely … normal. If it were up to me, I'd tell him he was mine and have him move in with me today. Blu told me that's not how I'm supposed to go about things, so I kept it cool.

Once I'm out of the shower and dinner is on the stove, I pull my phone out and send Ty a text. It's been about five hours since I saw him. That's plenty of time.

Me: Hey.

I have to stop myself from sending more. The only thing that stays my hand is I don't want to overwhelm him. If I give him all of my clingy quirks, he'll bolt for sure. I'd rather he be with me willingly than kidnapping him and chaining him to my headboard. My dedushka, Ivan, said I can't take people against their wills and expect to stay out of prison. While I like to keep what is mine close to me, I don't want to get locked up and be away from him forever. That would defeat the purpose of kidnapping him in the first place.

My phone beeps in my hand, and I quickly swipe my thumb over the lock screen to open it.

Ty: Hey, Leo. I didn't expect you to text me.

Why wouldn't he? Ty is fucking hot. Besides that, an unfamiliar feeling flowed through me when our eyes met. Something about him had alarm bells ringing in my head but not in warning. It was a soul deep realization that Ty was mine.

I couldn't stop staring at him during the tasting. He's so fucking handsome, and his nervous, adorable babbling gave me a foreign swooping sensation in my belly.

Not only did he have those beautiful fucking mismatched eyes that had me practically in a trance, but everything about him was just beautiful. His rich brown skin was clear, the fluorescent lights making it glow in a way I've never seen. His cute little nose twitched every time he started babbling, something I didn't know I would find attractive, but fuck if I didn't like looking at it. His lips are plump, the lower thicker than the upper, and my mind kept imagining how his lips would feel on mine. Which is crazy because I can count on one hand how many people I've kissed. I didn't like any occasion that called for it, but here I am, thinking about Ty's lips.

Focusing on the text, I reply.

Me: Why? I told you I would.

The small dots appear and disappear at the bottom of the screen, and I hold my phone tighter so I won't miss his message. He's either backspacing a lot or is sending me a long message. It's the former, and for some reason, that makes me smile.

Ty: I'm not sure. What are you up to?

Even though I want to pry, I don't give in to my curiosity. On our date, I'll find out all I need to know about him.

Me: Just finished cooking dinner. Do you work tomorrow?

Ty: Yes, but I'm usually off by six.

Me: I'll pick you up at 7:30.

Ty: I'm sure you're supposed to ask, right?

I chuckle. Ty doesn't know me, but he'll find out soon enough that I don't waste my time asking questions when I know the answer.

Me: No need. What's your address?

Instead of a text back, my phone rings for a FaceTime call. A flutter dances in my belly as I answer the phone.

"Hello, Ty."

Instead of a standard greeting, a cute scowl crops up on his face. "Are you always like this?"

"Like…" My voice trails off so he can fill in the blanks for me.

"Demanding?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Does that bother you?"

He lets out a long-suffering sigh that has me chuckling. "It should, but no, it doesn't. You're set on taking me to dinner, huh?"

"Yep," I answer honestly. I want to get to know Ty. I've already claimed him as mine. It would be nice to learn more about him besides that fact. "If you give me your address, I can pick you up on time."

Ty shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "Leo, are you sure?"

"Surer than you know. Address, Tyshawn."

"I'll text it to you." He chuckles. "You're relentless."

Smiling like a cat that ate the canary, I murmur, "You have no idea."

Sighing once more, Ty tells me, "I'll see you tomorrow, Leo."

He hangs up, and a few seconds later, a text with his address comes through.

I smooth down my jacket after I knock on the door of Ty's apartment. It's seven twenty eight. Our dinner reservation isn't until eight, so we have time.

The door flies open, and I almost swallow my tongue. Holy fuck, Ty looks good. Like me, he has on a leather jacket over his blue button down shirt that almost matches his right eye and has on a pair of black skinny pants that meld to his body. I can see the definition in his toned legs, his thick thighs almost bursting the seams. I'm at the gym a lot, so I know when someone doesn't skip leg day.

I'm not sure if he got a haircut between yesterday and today, but his fade looks fresh, and his clean-shaven face appears dewey. Like he has on?—

I reach out and thumb gently along his cheek. "You have on makeup."

Ty lowers his head, a beautiful blush cropping up where I just touched him. "Yeah. Is that a problem? Some men don't like when other men wear makeup, but ... I think it makes me look … pretty."

Smiling slightly, I step into him, just inside the door of his apartment. "You're pretty without it. But you look gorgeous."

"Yeah?" His smile is brilliant, and fuck yeah, he looks good. More than pretty. He's fucking beautiful.

I'm not going to think about the fact that Ty is the first man I'm attracted to in a sexual way. I don't care. He belongs to me. Nothing else matters to me.

Tilting my head, I give him an easy smile. "Better than pretty, kotenok." I thumb over his bottom lip that is slathered with clear gloss, his mouth looking plumper than it did yesterday. "Come. I have a reservation for us at Mama Bellas."

The faint blush is still high on Ty's cheeks. "Okay. Let me grab my keys and lock up. My roommate isn't home, or he'd do it. He's with his girlfriend. I think they went on a date or something. I'm not sure. It's not like he checks in with me." He turns around and grabs his keys from the coffee table. "I don't ask him to, you know? He's grown. It would be weird if he checked in with me." I step back as Ty pulls the door closed, locking it behind us. "Even if I asked, I'm sure he'd tell me to shut up and …" He trails off, then his eyes widen. "God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling."

"I like hearing you talk."

"Why?"

I shrug, because even I don't fully understand why I enjoy listening to him so much. "Your voice is soothing."

Listening to Ty speak calms down the urgent need to kill. The need and compulsion is always there, bubbling just under the surface. Most times, I'm able to ignore it. When it gets to be too much, I select a job to sets me on an even keel. But lately, run-of-the-mill kills haven't been giving me the high that I want. I need a kill that will leave my hands bloody in more than the metaphorical sense, requiring dismembering a body. I haven't had one of those in a while.

But yesterday while I was with Ty for his tasting and again in my office, that part of me was quiet. Not even a flicker or nudge. Pure silence. When I thought about him after he left, that urge that wanted me to go out and slit a random person's throat was gone. Ty's voice quiets the urgent need to kill. It's as welcome as it is disconcerting.

Ty's shy smile broadens. Seeing this expression on his face is becoming my obsession. I've never met anyone as gorgeous as him. He's probably this beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. The complete opposite of me. I might look like just a pretty face, but I'm as dark as they come. If I believed in a thing like a soul, I would say mine is too stained to be close to a pure light like Ty's.

But I'm a selfish bastard, so I won't stay away. Ty belongs to me. I'll try not to sully him too much.

"I've never heard that before. Thank you."

When we get to my car that's parked on the curb, I open his door, which makes his cheeks turn rosy and his beautifully colored eyes sparkle as he looks at me. "You're the perfect gentleman."

Little does he know…

The drive to the restaurant is spent in silence, which I don't like. Hearing Ty's voice brings out emotions in me I didn't think I had. I told June when he found out I was a psychopath that I could feel emotions but not as much as a normal person. Happiness is a more abstract emotion that comes to me briefly. The last time I remember being genuinely happy is when I found my cousin Blu. Other than that, I would feel something akin to "okayness". Just making my way through life, faking whatever emotions are required of me.

Once we pull up to Mama Bellas, I hand the valet my keys and hold out my arm for Ty. I don't think I'll ever get enough of a blush flaming his warm brown cheeks.

"Thank you," he mutters when I lead him up to the host stand. I give the man behind the stand my name, and he leads us back to our table. I help Ty remove his jacket and get into his seat before I take the chair across from him.

"This is the beginning of our date, but it's already the best I've ever been on. No one has opened the car door for me or helped me into my seat."

"It's the first time I've done it," I admit. I don't go on dates. I've been out to eat with women, but we'd usually meet somewhere and go back to their place to fuck. Dinner was just a formality. Something I knew I had to do to appear normal.

Ty grins as he picks up his menu. "I'm not sure if you're fucking with me or not, but I appreciate the effort."

Our server comes over a few minutes later, taking our drink and food orders. When he leaves, I give Ty my undivided attention. "Tell me about your baking. Do you have a culinary arts degree?"

He beams and nods. "Yeah. I went to a tech school while I was still in high school and got some training. I worked part-time at a bakery in Corpin as soon as I graduated. I only left because …" His smile drops, and his eyes cloud over with what I can only assume is pain from his loss. I've never felt that before, so I can only guess. "After my mom died, I quit that place and moved here. I work in a law office now as a clerk."

"Why not another bakery?"

Our server comes back with our drinks, and Ty grabs his and takes a long sip of the wine he ordered. "Fuck, that's good." He meets my eyes and smiles again. "Sorry. It's been a while since I had good wine. Mostly it's some shit that Sam gets from a box. Oh, Sam is my roommate. That's his name. Anyway, he gets wine in a box. His girlfriend and I tell him that's gross, but he's cheap, and he doesn't like to listen. He says wine is wine, cheap or not because it serves the purpose of getting him drunk. He even said it paired well with some lasagna I made, which was a lie because I drank some and gagged for about five minutes straight. I don't drink his wine in a box anymore. So yeah, first time in a while I've had good wine."

God, why is the rambling so fucking endearing?

Though I give off a jovial attitude all the time, I get impatient with people when they don't get to the point.

With Ty, I don't feel the urge to stop him from speaking. If nothing else tells me he's mine, it's that.

"To answer your question," he continues after he takes another sip of his wine, "None of the bakeries were hiring here. I needed a job to pay the bills."

"Do you want to work in one?" I swig some of my whiskey neat, enjoying the conversation. I usually only like talking to June and Blu for any length of time. This is new, and I love it. Well, if I can love anything.

Love isn't an emotion I've ever felt. Obsession, though? I'm intimately familiar with that feeling.

"I want to own one." His tone is guarded. "I'm young, but I can handle my own bakery. It wouldn't be easy, but I've never been afraid of hard work, you know?"

"Yes, I do. That's admirable. What would you name it?"

The relief is evident on his face, and my heart soars that I said the right thing.

"Sam said Tyshawn's Delicious Creations, but that's weird to name a bakery. I was thinking Tessa's Bakery, after my mother. I don't know, it would make me feel closer to her."

Even though I nod, I have no idea what that kind of connection is like. My mom and dad were afraid of me as soon as I turned six and sent me away for the first time when I was eight. I've only seen my mother once in over twenty years, when my father was on his deathbed, and not since then.

"How did she die, if you don't mind my asking," I say as gently as I can. From his reaction earlier, it's still a sensitive subject.

Grief is a strange sort of emotion. It lingers, probably longer than most people want it to. June still tears up when he talks about Ray, even though he's been dead for a year. In my mind, two years is plenty of time for Ty to grieve the loss of his mother, but I would never say that. It's one of the things I'll puzzle over, about people with regular feelings, on my own.

Ty shakes his head slowly and pulls in a breath. "No, it's fine. She … uh … car accident. Some kind of malfunction with her car. Her death caused this whole thing with one of the big car companies because the power steering kept going out. All the cars of that make and model were recalled. My father filed a wrongful death lawsuit, but the case is still in court. She had discussed the issue a few times with her mechanic, which helps my father's case since there is a paper trail. She also made complaints to the dealership and manufacturer to no avail. If nothing else, she was tenacious," he finishes with a small chuckle.

"You miss her," I say, hearing the sadness in his voice clear as day. His eyes are expressive, very easy to read even though I've only known him for a day. They reflect the deep pain of her loss, a loss he won't be over anytime soon.

"I do. Every day. She was the best. Taught me everything I know about cooking and baking. That's why I want to honor her memory by naming a bakery after her. It should have been our dream together. Now, I'll do it for both of us."

"You're a good son," I mutter, tossing my drink back and motioning for our server to bring me another.

Ty shrugs, leaning on the table with his elbows. "I had good parents. Why did you grow up in Russia?"

I smile at him, though I'm sure it doesn't reflect anything close to happiness. "I wasn't the best child. My parents couldn't handle me, so they sent me to stay with my grandfather. My dad told me if my grandfather's strict ways didn't break me, the cold of Russia would."

My father's face as he repeated those words to me pops up unbidden in my mind. He'd just finished beating me across the back with a belt because of some animal I killed and let rot in my room. By that time, I was eleven and didn't care that I was different and made them uncomfortable. I did what I wanted, and killing animals made me feel.

I conveniently left out the part where my parents sent me to a reform school until I was ten, then shipped me off to my grandfather's after I committed my first murder. It's still shocking my father raised a belt to me, knowing I had no compunction when it came to killing. He somehow figured out I killed the director of the reform school I was sent to. I'm sure he figured familial ties would save him. It was a near thing that I didn't slit his throat while he slept.

"Where are your parents?"

Shrugging, I swirl my drink in my glass before I take a sip. "Dad is dead. I'm not sure where my mother is."

"Fuck, Leo. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. They were shit parents."

Silence stretches for a moment, Ty looking like he doesn't know what to say. Finally, he asks, "Did you enjoy Russia?"

A chuckle bubbles from my throat. "God no. I fucking hated every minute of it. I couldn't wait to get back to the States. But I learned a lot. My grandfather was thorough in his lessons, that's for sure."

For some reason, Ty's eyes turn sad. "Did he hit you?"

"Not the way you're thinking, no. He taught me to defend myself, so I was struck on occasion to help me learn. But he didn't beat me as punishment."

A relieved expression crosses his face. "That's good. Can you teach me? Self-defense, I mean? I'd like some pointers in case someone tries to?—"

Ty shrinks away, putting a hand across his chest as his eyes grow wide. I wonder at his reaction until I realize I'm growling.

Clamping my mouth shut, I cut the sound off and shake my head. What the fuck was that? I've never had that reaction to the thought of someone touching another person. But Ty isn't just anybody—he's my person.

"Sorry about that," I mutter, sipping my drink to give my mouth something to do while I think. "I don't know where that came from."

Even though he tries to hide it, Ty's lips twitch as if he wants to smile. "Demanding and possessive," he drawls, sipping more of his wine. "Either the heavens have sent me the man of my dreams, or you're a psychopath. I'm not sure which one."

Looks like Ty hit the nail on the head there.