Chapter 5

5

Leah

Have you talked to Danica?

Dmitri’s text sends a flare of guilt through me. Shit. I haven’t talked to her yet. I meant to text her on Monday, but it’s already Friday. I’m a horrible friend.

No. I’ll text her now .

She’s at work, but it’s probably slow .

Danica works at an ice cream shop here in Dorado Heights. Mostly she manages accounting, but she also works at the counter on busy days. I pile on the make-up needed to hide my bruises. They’ve faded and turned yellow, but I still want to hide them.

Gage arranged for me to have my own space in the private parking garage. My old sedan looks grossly out of place among the luxury vehicles. I stop short when I realize I don’t need to drive. I’ve never lived in Dorado Heights before. I’ve always needed to drive downtown from wherever else I was staying. Today, I can walk right out and find Isabelle’s Creamery a couple of blocks away.

Danica is standing at the counter when I walk in. She laughs with a coworker who wears her dark blond hair in braided pigtails. Danica’s lighter blond hair is up in a high ponytail, emphasizing her killer cheekbones. If she weren’t so short, she could’ve been a runway model.

“Leah!” Danica says. “Hey! This is my boss, Isabelle.”

“Nice to meet you.” I reach across the counter to shake Isabelle’s hand.

“You too.” She grins.

I’m surprised at how young she is. She can’t be much older than Danica and me, yet she owns a small business. I have all kinds of nosy questions, but I won’t ask them.

Danica gives me a scrutinizing look. “Is anything going on?”

“Well.” I take a deep breath. “Do you have a break coming up, so we could talk?”

“Go for it,” Isabelle says before Danica can ask her. “It’s slow right now, anyway.”

I order a single scoop. Partly to be polite, but mostly because the orange sherbet is heaven in my mouth.

Danica and I step out front to claim a pink metal table with matching chairs.

Danica leans forward, hands clasped like she means business. “You’re wearing a metric ton of make-up again, Leah. I love the glam look, but I know you hate that shit. Tell me what’s going on.”

Deep breath. I take a bite of my ice cream to stall. Danica side-eyes me—she knows all my tactics.

“First,” I say, “I’m safe now.”

“Shit,” she breathes. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head in disbelief. “What happened?”

“Well, the guys who killed Mick…they were loan sharks. Mick said I was good for the money. One of them got obsessed with me.”

“Because of Mick.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, Leah.” Her gaze sweeps over my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. It was scary, but everything’s resolved now.”

“No thanks to Mick.” She leans back in her chair, her expression warring between concern and fury. “Do you know any necromancers? I want to bring him back and kill him again.”

“ Danica .”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s a quote from AoG.” She sighs. “Too soon, though.”

“Yes, too soon.” I don’t mind the levity, but I want to get through this conversation. Her break can only last so long.

“And your bruises are from the loan sharks roughing you up?”

“Yeah.”

“My God, Leah. I’m so sorry.” She lays a comforting hand on my wrist. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

“It sounds so dramatic when I say it out loud.”

“And? You can be as dramatic as you want.” Her gray eyes are full of empathy. “Just tell me, I’m freaking out over here.”

“They kidnapped me. They would’ve hurt me a lot more, but Gage and your brother figured out I was missing.”

She leans back. “Dmitri?”

I laugh awkwardly. “Do you have any other brothers?”

“Shut up. Seriously. I want the whole story, start to finish.” She taps her long fingernails thoughtfully on the table. “And feel free to spend lots of time describing Gage naked.”

I throw my napkin at her and we both laugh. This is what I feared, though— the whole story . It should include the messy entanglement with Dmitri, but it can’t. Danica would never forgive me for going behind her back and banging her brother.

Because I’m a fucking coward, I give her the safe-for-Danica version of the story. It includes moving to a hotel to stop imposing on Dmitri, and developing a relationship with Gage. And now I’m living with Gage.

She squeals in excitement. While my kidnapping is the worst part of the story and we spend a lot of time talking about that, she also has a billion questions about my new boyfriend.

It’s bizarre to think of him as my boyfriend.

“So, how much older is he than us? If he was like fourteen when AoG started, that would make him…”

“Late thirties,” I say. “It’s a big gap, but he treats me really well.”

“Just be careful.”

“I will.” I pause before adding, “If you see red flags, speak up, okay? I promise to listen. I won’t make excuses like I did with Mick.”

A huge group of parents with kindergartners approaches, talking loudly. The kids shout favorite ice cream flavors and spin, skip, and jump along the sidewalk.

Danica’s eyes grow wide as the party invades the ice cream parlor. She rises. “Break time’s over.”

I stand and gather my trash.

She touches my arm, then brushes her fingers over my cheek. “I can see the bruising now, past your make-up. Listen. I don’t want you to keep that stuff from me ever again. I don’t want you hurt. I swear to God, Leah. Talk to me next time. Don’t hold things back.”

Tears well in my eyes. I nearly blurt out that I fucked Dmitri, right here and now, but I can’t do it. It would hurt her, and I couldn’t do that to Dmitri, either. If it ever comes out, it’ll be all three of us together, having an adult discussion. Maybe years from now, when the feelings aren’t so raw.

Sunlight kisses my skin on the walk back to Gage’s. Pedestrians pass me going both ways. I’m not in a hurry. My mind wanders as my sandals slap the sidewalk. How would Dmitri and I have talked to Danica if we decided to continue fucking? I wonder if Danica would have approved. Probably not if it was just fucking. But if we dated, maybe. In another life, we could’ve tried to have a relationship. He cares about me, I know that much.

He just doesn’t care enough.

When I get back to Gage’s penthouse, my phone buzzes with a new text from Dmitri.

I guess you told her, because she’s blowing up my phone .

Wincing, I text, Just about the attack. Nothing about us .

He sends a thumb’s up.

That’s it, I guess. End of discussion.

Is that all he cares about? Danica never finding out? I can’t forget the way his hands felt on my skin, the delicate way he gripped my throat, the way his heartbeat sounded in my ears when he held me. Gods help me, I can’t get the scene out of my brain. I wanted him then. I still do. He was in such control, giving me everything I needed.

But now, I get a thumb’s up.

Fuck him and his fucking thumbs.

I spend the rest of the day reading Wuthering Heights, wishing I could rewrite it as a fluffy romance. Surely Wuthering Heights fanfic is a thing.

I look up from my book. Hours have passed. Gage should be home any minute now. A few minutes after I return to Heathcliff’s temper tantrums, Gage calls me. It sounds like he’s at Low Vice; faint bass thuds through my phone’s speaker.

“Princess. Have you eaten dinner?”

I glance at the time. It’s nearing eight p.m. “No, I forgot.”

“There’s a gift for you in the exercise room.”

My body gives a little shiver of excitement. I hurry toward the exercise room. It’s at the end of the hall, past the two bedrooms, across from his home office. “I hope the gift isn’t cardio.”

His low chuckle is sexy. “It isn’t cardio.”

A large package sits on one of the workout benches. It’s wrapped in shimmery, light pink paper and adorned with a deep pink bow. The box is as long as my arms can span, but fairly shallow, maybe a foot.

“This is for me ?” I approach the box, wiggling in my excitement. I’m glad he can’t see how giddy I am. I should be cool and calm.

“It’s for you. Open it. And stay on the phone. I want to hear what you think.”

I put the phone on speaker and drop it on the workout bench next to the box. Then, I ease off the box top and shove aside the shimmering cream-toned tissue paper to reveal a dress.

It’s beautiful. The rich, copper-toned fabric crisscrosses over the chest. I won’t know until I try it on, but it looks like it will leave a sexy little peekaboo triangle above the stomach. It’s calf-length and has short sleeves, and I can already tell it’s going to look amazing on me. I can’t wait to put it on. When I pull it from the box, I find a pair of matching sandals.

“I love it,” I breathe.

“Good. Get dressed and wait for me in the foyer. I’ll be there in twenty minutes to pick you up.”

* * *

Gage

She’s a vision.

I’ve spent all day trying to talk myself out of letting these feelings develop, but my starved heart finally has a feast in front of it.

I park in front of the building and come around my car to open the door for her. The dress fits her perfectly, as I’d hoped. Form-fitting, flattering. Her skin is beautiful against the rich brown fabric.

“How are the shoes?” I help her into the car.

“Perfect. Did you hunt through my things to figure out my sizes?”

“Yes. I assume you don’t mind.”

She smiles up at me, her red-stained lips so kissable. “I don’t mind at all. Thank you for the gift. I love it.”

A few minutes later, I pass the keys to a valet and guide Leah into Abdul’s Restaurant. Leah seems to think that dates are important in the formative stages of a relationship. I vaguely remember going on dates, but they were hazy, group affairs. The Shinies were constantly together, even after the show dissolved.

Abdul’s is in a remodeled, historic firehouse. The white-painted brick walls are broken by old windows with their original, warped glass. Paintings and photography from San Esteban School of the Arts are on display, bringing color and modernity to the atmosphere.

My hand shakes as I pull out Leah’s chair. Am I nervous? I am; I want the date to go well. I want to show I’m human and understand modern courtship. I want to move past my odd hang-ups and embrace a new life. With her.

She takes in the surrounding restaurant, her smile radiant. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Never? I heard this was a popular date spot.” In other words, I spent two hours researching San Esteban’s best date-night restaurants and comparing their reviews, menus, and atmosphere. I thought Leah would like this one best.

Her smile diminishes somewhat. “Yes. Well. This is my first time here, and I’m really glad of it.”

I wonder what isn’t said. Does she not want to speak ill of her ex? Probably.

There are better conversations to be had, anyway. I know who she is in the present, but almost nothing about her past or her preferences.

As we eat and drink—pistachio-crusted halibut for her, Abdul’s maple-brined pork chop for me—I quiz her. Favorite flower—a rose, because of their scent and the wide array of colors. Favorite color—undecided; it depends on her mood.

She quizzes me right back, asking my favorite flower.

I chuckle. “I don’t have one, but I’ll do some research.”

“And your favorite color?”

“I’m partial to blue.” I stare directly into her eyes as I say it, waiting for her to make the connection, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t realize how beautiful she is, or how she has captivated my heart.

I need her. All of her. I want to bring her closer and keep her there.

She hasn’t completely moved in with me. She’s still treating my penthouse as a way station.

Our server drops off dessert—a peach tart for us to share.

I wait for her to take a bite before I speak. “Tell me about Dmitri. You’re friends, obviously. How did you meet?”

“Dmitri?” She coughs, chews, swallows. Her cheeks are a faint pink. “Through my best friend, Danica. He’s her older brother.”

That explains both his protectiveness and his barely-veiled lust for her.

“And you were living with him, because…” I wait for her to finish the sentence.

“Because things went bad with my ex, so I moved out.” Her eyes gaze past me, a haunted look in them as she remembers. “I thought I had somewhere to go, but it fell through. Danica strong-armed Dmitri to take me in.”

I bet Danica didn’t have to exert much pressure. No doubt Dmitri was secretly thrilled, despite any outward protests.

“I have a request.” I put down my fork and gesture for her to finish the last bites of the tart. “I want to move your things from Dmitri’s garage to my apartment.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows go up in surprise. “Yeah, that’s…thanks. I’d like to have more of my stuff, since I’m really moving in and all. I’ll ask Dmitri when I can swing by.”

“Let me know if I can help. I can hire a truck, movers, whatever you need.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

She doesn’t commit to my offer. I wish she would allow me to spoil her. At the very least, she needs to accept help. I applaud her independence, but I have a need to provide for her, to protect her.

The black-clad host leads two new diners into the room. I give a start of recognition at one of them. It’s as if saying his name has summoned him.

Dmitri is here with a guy about his age.

He doesn’t see us yet.

Two weeks ago, I would have been delighted at this happenstance—the young man seeing me with the woman he desires.

A part of me wants to continue playing games with his lust and obvious need for her. But my first inclination is to quickly wrap up my date with Leah, to spare her the drama.

I signal the waiter for the check.

The movement of my wave catches Dmitri’s eye.

Unfortunate.

Wherever Dmitri was going, he changes direction to stalk toward us. His expression is friendly, but there’s a storm building in his eyes.