He rolls down the window and I lean forward slowly. I need to send a message to him. He needs to know that it’s his ass on the line if anything happens to Julia while he’s on watch. Luckily, I wield fear as easily as the .44 holstered at my hip. I don’t speak for a moment, letting his mind race over all the possible ways he could have pissed me off. It’s more effective that way. He’ll remember his fuck-ups a lot more clearly if he figures them out for himself instead of me spelling it out for him.
His mouth opens like he’s about to speak, but he snaps it shut again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Right about now he’s wondering if I’m going to kill him. He knows my reputation, everyone does. He finally rubs the back of his neck, wincing. “Sorry, Leo. It won’t happen again.”
“Yeah. It won’t. And you’re not getting paid for today.”
I straighten, looking around the street and the crowded sidewalk. Any one of these guys could be working for the Morettis, trying to find the right opportunity to make a move against me, to hurt Julia. I almost wish they would just come out and try. Ever since those fuckers at the mini-golf place, I haven’t seen so much as a hint that they are still gunning for me. Now I have to make sure I stay hard, stay alert, and keep my ear to the ground. They may be biding their time for now, but I know it’s only a matter of time until they come after us, and I plan to be ready when they do.
48
Julia
I unlock the door to my mom’s house and stare at the perfectly clean living room in confusion. What the… Roman runs ahead of me, yelling “Grannie!” I run a finger on the coffee table and look at my fingertip. No dust? What the hell?
I normally spend at least an hour a week cleaning her place up when I bring Roman over on the weekends. It has been a week since I’ve been here, and she’s far too weak to clean. Who the hell was here? For some reason I’m pissed. I storm into my mom’s room to find her hugging Roman. Her hair is wispy on her mostly bald scalp and her eyes are tired but kind. She smiles lovingly at him, hugging him back with her frail arms. “My little Romeo,” she says into his hair. “I missed you.”
“Mom,” I say. “Who was here?”
Her brows pull together in confusion. “That handsome young man you sent. He came by yesterday.”
I feel my heart racing. Handsome young man? “The one with tattoos?”
She grins. “That’s the one. I didn’t mind watching him clean at all. And he was such a gentleman. Where did you find him?”
On parole from a prison sentence. “What did he say to you?”
“We talked about you a lot, actually. You know he asked if you had a boyfriend, I think he might be interested, sweetie. I told him you were pining after the one who got away a few years back, which has kept you depressingly single. I suggested he fix that.” She winks. “You’re welcome.”
“Mom!” I say, outraged. “You didn’t really say that did you? Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Roman lets her go and runs off to find the cat. “C’mere kitty!” he shouts. “Meow!”
My mom just gives me a small smile. “If you don’t take him, I will. He looked like a real catch.”
“If you’re interested in criminals, maybe,” I say, sitting on the edge of her bed and feeling her forehead. “You’re freezing,” I mutter, reaching to grab more blankets for her.
She lets me tuck her in tighter, watching me with those eyes of her that haven’t lost any of their mischief, despite years of fighting this fucking cancer. “Your father was a good man. The only law he ever broke was illegally parking on the Fourth of July every year. I swear that man would have rather given up a limb than sit a minute longer than he had to in traffic. I loved him more than anything, and he was great to you. But…” she says, smiling deviously. “If he had a wild side, I wouldn’t have complained either.”
I can’t help but laugh a little. “Mom. You’re grossing me out. Please stop.”
“I know I’m doing my job if I’m grossing you out.”
I hear Mr. Paws give a death-curdling screech from the living room. Roman must have found him. Those two have been clashing ever since Roman could crawl. Roman loves the cat more than he loves me, and the cat just wants to be left alone.
“You know I didn’t tell him to come see you, Mom. I didn’t even tell him you were sick. I have no idea how he found out or how he knew where to find you.”
She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips. “So he’s resourceful, thoughtful, and passionate. You really had better make a move before I steal this one from you, Jules.”
I look down, pulling at my fingers. “I was going to say he’s a stalker.”
“Bullshit. The only difference between a man being labeled a stalker and a charmer is whether you want his attention.”
“I don’t think that’s entirely true, Mom.”
“Well, I must just be getting old and crazy, then, because I would be all over him like honey on ham.”
I cover my face with my hands, laughing and falling over on her legs. “I really didn’t need that image.”
I knock on Leo’s door once Roman has gone down for sleep later that night. I’m holding the baby monitor in my hand. It buzzes with white noise from the noise machine in Roman’s room and broadcasts an image of his little body curled up with his dinosaur and favorite blanket. Leo opens the door. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt and black slacks. His sleeves are rolled up casually and his buttons are undone scandalously low. I wish I could stop losing my breath every time I see him.
“Hey,” I say, a little breathlessly.
He leans against the doorframe, looking at me with undisguised surprise. “I didn’t expect you to stop by.”
“Yeah, well, me neither,” I say, “But imagine my surprise when I found out the criminal next door was at my mom’s house today.”
He nods. “I can see how that would be a surprise. I didn’t realize they let criminals live here. Should I be worried about this guy?”
I smile a little. “I’m still trying to answer that question.”
“Let me know when you do.”
I glance into his still-bare apartment. “Are you ever going to decorate this place? Maybe get a bed?”
“Please, come in,” he says, gesturing grandly. “It’s not much, but I actually got used to sparse living in prison. Having too much stuff around doesn’t feel right anymore.”
“You should really get a bed, at least. I don’t like the idea of you sleeping on the floor.”
He smirks knowingly. “I didn’t realize you’ve been over there thinking about me. Seems like you are really fixated on where I sleep.”
I blush, but my embarrassment quickly turns to anger, as it always seems to around him. Just seeing him happy, cocky, and smiling is enough to piss me off. He gets to walk away for four years while I do the hard work and then thinks he can show up and reap the benefits? Fuck that. “Is it possible to have a real conversation with you where you don’t turn everything into innuendo?”