“I see you’re still getting along just fine,” Lloyd said.
Cassidy tensed, but Leo didn’t let go of her. He merely lifted his head and glared at the man who’d dared to interrupt them—again.
As if he knew how pissed Leo was, Lloyd held up his hands. “I was sent by the boss. He’s got an errand for Mario here.”
Cassidy opened her mouth to protest, but Leo spoke over her. “Sounds good. I was going to take Cassidy for a romantic dinner in Kingston anyway.”
She looked up at Leo in surprise, then to her son. Mario’s shoulders were hunched, as if that could protect him from whatever job he would be sent on. He looked at her with despair. He knew she couldn’t help him, that he’d have to do whatever was ordered of him.
Cassidy wanted to grab him, hold him close, and tell Lloyd that he wasn’t going to put a hand on her son, but they both knew she was as helpless as Mario.
“Tell Coke I expect to see Mario later tonight when we get back,” Leo told Lloyd with a glare. “The way to a woman’s heart is through her flesh and blood. Understand?”
Cassidy held her breath. Leo sounded so different when he was dealing with Lloyd. Harder. Unyielding. Scary.
“Of course. If the brat doesn’t like you, neither will the mom. You like G, right, Mario?” Lloyd asked the boy, reaching out and whacking the kid in the shoulder with his fist.
Mario stumbled sideways and dropped his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
Cassidy wanted to talk to him before he left, but Lloyd stepped behind Mario and put his hand on his shoulder. “Have fun while you’re enjoying our beautiful city. But be careful, it’s dangerous out there,” he said in a tone that sounded more like a threat than a friendly warning. Then he pushed Mario toward the house without looking back at Cassidy and Leo.
She whimpered, not realizing she’d made a sound until Leo stepped behind her and put his chin on her shoulder, wrapping an arm around her, plastering her back to his chest. “They aren’t going to hurt him,” Leo soothed. “I made my point loud and clear. They’ll bring him to you tonight, if only to make sure I’m kept happy. They can’t afford to piss me off,” he reassured her.
“Why? What do they want from you?” Cassidy asked, not taking her eyes from the spot she’d last seen her son.
“Not here,” Leo said. “I’ve been given permission to take you off the grounds for the rest of the day, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“I’m not hungry,” she told him, knowing if she tried to eat anything, she’d probably throw it up because she was too worried about Mario.
“We aren’t going to eat,” Leo told her. “Come on.” He put a hand on her nape and pushed her to walk in front of him, kind of like Lloyd had done with Mario.
Cassidy realized that she really didn’t know Leo. Didn’t know this Leo, the guy who’d shown up to do some sort of deal with Michael Coke, notorious drug dealer. He said he had a team, but she hadn’t seen anyone. For all she knew, he was as bad as Michael, and if she went with him, she’d be put in a worse situation than she was now.
Just as she made the decision to struggle, to pull herself out of his grasp, he leaned down, and his warm breath fanned her ear as he said, “It’s for show, Cass. Everyone expects me to treat you like shit, but I’m not going to hurt you, no way in hell.” His thumb caressed the side of her neck, hidden under the unruly brown hair cascading over her shoulders.
So she pressed her lips together and gave him a tiny nod. She let him propel her through the house. They passed several members of the security force, who merely smirked. No one tried to stop them. No one verbalized threats against her or Mario if she didn’t return. She’d been allowed to leave on her own in the past—that was how she was able to mail the letters she’d smuggled out to the FBI—but it had also been made very clear that if she didn’t return, Mario would pay the price. They’d found her weakness and used it against her every chance they could.
It was confusing how everyone seemed to defer to Leo, but she supposed if they all thought he was some drug lord, and someone who their boss wanted to make a deal with, it made sense.
The second they walked outside the gates of the estate, it seemed as if the air was cleaner somehow. Cassidy felt as if she could breathe easier. Leo kept his hand on her nape as they walked down the street away from her prison.
“Don’t look back,” Leo said, as if he could read her mind.
She wanted to. Wanted to see if anyone was following them. Wanted to see if she could catch another glimpse of Mario. But she knew she couldn’t. Lloyd might’ve said he was needed for an errand, but as long as she was outside the gates, he would be inside them. That’s just how things were. That was her terrible reality.
They headed for a nondescript black sedan. He held open the door for her and, after she’d sat, jogged around the front to get into the driver’s seat. He pulled away from the curb as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Are they following us?” she whispered. It was crazy to still be talking so quietly, but she’d gotten used to doing so, knowing there were cameras everywhere in Michael’s house.
“Of course,” Leo said carelessly.
“Oh . . . so you want them to follow us?” she said.
“Nope. But I’ll lose ’em. Have patience.”
His words made her scrunch up her nose. “Patience? Leo, I’ve been biding my time for the last four years. Trying to figure out the best time and place to make my escape. I’m all out of patience.”
To her surprise, Leo turned to her and smiled. It changed the whole countenance of his face. Suddenly he was no longer the scary G who had come to meet with Michael—he was the boy she remembered from high school. The guy who loved playing tricks on people. He had wrinkles next to his eyes that he hadn’t had before, and his dark beard made her wonder how it might feel against her skin.
Leo had aged extremely well . . . and it made her uncomfortable. She’d never been the kind of woman who was overly concerned about her looks or weight, but seeing Leo lower his guard a fraction made her realize that wherever he lived, women probably threw themselves at him. He was muscular and good looking, and who could resist that twinkle in his eye when he was feeling mischievous?
“What’re you thinking?” he asked.
“Are you married? Have a girlfriend?” she blurted.
Leo frowned. “Why?”
“Does she know what you’re doing? That you’re kissing me and pretending to be into me? That’s not right, Leo. I mean, I appreciate you helping me more than I can say, and I’ll forever be in your debt, but I don’t like the thought of you touching me behind someone’s back.”
“Then don’t think about it,” Leo said easily.
Just when she was about to lose her mind, Leo reached over and put his hand on her thigh. “Before you unleash that Latin temper I know you have, there isn’t anyone in my life,” he said. “I’m single. Have been for years. I’ve never found anyone who can put up with me long term.”
Cassidy couldn’t help but gawk at that. “Seriously?”
“Yup. I’m moody. Grumpy. I can’t ever remember birthdays or anniversaries . . . the important dates that women think I should. I’ve been called self-centered and selfish more than once, and they aren’t wrong. I like what I like and don’t suffer fools easily. But I’ll tell you this, Cass: I’ve never—and I mean never—cheated on a woman I’m seeing. If I’m dating someone, I’m with her one hundred percent. I wouldn’t touch you like I have, or kiss you, if I wasn’t single.”