“Michael sold me?” Cassidy asked. “How is that even possible in this day and age?”
“It’s a lot easier, and more common, than you’d think,” Eagle said dryly. “If Gramps wasn’t there to get you and Mario out, you could be living a very different life right now. Coke had basically given you to his security force.”
Cassidy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Michael was dead? Leo had poisoned him? And he’d drugged her? It made sense now, why she couldn’t remember anything . . . but it didn’t explain why Leo was ignoring her. After everything they’d been through in the last two days, she would’ve thought he’d be by her side when she woke. She supposed she should’ve known he was just there to do a job. That even though they had a history of sorts, what they’d shared didn’t actually mean anything. He was performing a role, like in a play. But this wasn’t a theater production—it was her life.
“For what it’s worth, he isn’t doing very well,” Eagle said, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
“What? Who?”
“Gramps. I’d say the alcohol isn’t helping either. He wasn’t happy he had to drug you. He didn’t tell you about Mario because he wasn’t sure it would happen the way we wanted, and he didn’t want to get your hopes up. And also, we needed any reaction to him being missing to be authentic. It would’ve raised too many suspicions if you weren’t upset about it. None of us thought you would burst into Coke’s office and demand he let you go out to find him, though. That was ballsy, and very risky for the op.
“Anyway . . . he’s afraid you won’t be able to forgive him. He was mumbling about how you looked at him when he held that syringe to your arm. He’s terrified you won’t be able to trust him the same way again.”
Cassidy’s heart was beating fast. She didn’t remember anything that happened in Michael’s office, but she didn’t like that Leo was beating himself up about it. She wasn’t happy that she’d been drugged, but she also wasn’t an idiot. If Leo had drugged her, it was because he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.
She didn’t remember what she’d done, but if she’d thought Mario was in trouble, she wasn’t surprised she’d risked everything to stand up to Michael.
Making a decision, she stood, then swayed on her feet.
“Easy,” Eagle warned, coming to his feet and steadying her.
“I need to talk to him,” Cassidy said.
“Maybe you should give him more time to sober up,” Eagle suggested.
“Maybe you should get out of my way,” Cassidy retorted. Inside, she was quaking. Eagle was a big man—not as tall as Leo, but she had no doubt if he didn’t want her speaking with his friend, he could easily stop her. But he merely nodded and stepped into the aisle.
Using the headrests to steady herself as she made her way up to the front, Cassidy stopped for a moment and watched Mario and Smoke playing cards. Her son didn’t seem traumatized in the least. In fact, he looked more relaxed around these badass men than she’d seen him in a very long time.
Guilt struck once more, but she pushed it down. She’d done what she’d thought was the right thing, getting Mario out of a situation with his father that had turned abusive. She hadn’t meant to trap him in another kind of hell.
Squaring her shoulders, she continued to the first row, noting how Leo’s friends had given him plenty of space. Since there wasn’t a flight attendant, they had a pretty good bubble of privacy in which to hash out the situation.
Cassidy didn’t ask if she could sit next to him, she simply pushed past his legs and took the seat on his left. Leo looked like hell. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were more pronounced because of the way he was frowning. His forehead was deeply furrowed, and in the brief second his eyes met hers, she saw they were bloodshot.
“How much rum did you have to drink?” she asked gently.
“Too much,” Leo said quietly.
He still wasn’t looking at her.
“I don’t remember what happened,” Cassidy said, getting right to it. “Eagle told me, though. I don’t hate you, Leo.”
His shoulders seemed to slump even more. “You should.”
“I don’t,” she repeated firmly. “Leo, my God . . . my son and I are sitting on a plane headed for the United States. Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this? Too many to count. But I never really thought it could happen. I wrote those letters to the FBI as a kind of Hail Mary. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that the government would actually send someone to help us. And when you showed up, I was shocked and scared . . . and so very grateful.”
“I drugged you, Cassidy. Stuck a needle into your flesh and pushed the plunger. Coke said it was flunitrazepam, but honestly, it could’ve been anything. And even though it was part of the plan all along, I fucking bought you from him.” Leo shook his head in disgust.
Cassidy hated the self-loathing she could hear in his voice. She put a hand on his arm. He stared at her fingers as if they were knives ready to plunge into him. She squeezed his forearm. “How much?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Half a million.”
Cassidy blinked in surprise. “That much?”
“I would’ve paid whatever he asked. Not that any money was ever going to actually change hands,” he mumbled.
“Leo, look at me,” Cassidy said.
He refused.
Sighing, she started to stand, planning to straddle his lap so he couldn’t ignore her, but the sudden movement made a sharp pain shoot through her head, and she groaned.
“What? What’s wrong?” Leo gasped, looking at her in alarm.
Cassidy opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, that she’d just moved too quickly, but the next thing she knew, Leo had lifted the armrest between them and pulled her onto his lap. Her feet rested on the cushion she’d just been sitting on, Leo gently holding her head between his hands.
“Look at me—let me check your pupils. You probably shouldn’t even be up and moving around yet.”
“I’m okay,” she told him, grabbing his wrists as he studied her eyes.
When the worried look didn’t fade from his face, she leaned forward, forcing him to drop his hands. Cassidy rested her forehead against his shoulder, snuggling close, loving how she fit perfectly against him. His arms came around her and held her tightly.
“I’m not mad at you,” she repeated into the warm skin of his neck. “You did what you had to do. I’m free. More importantly, Mario’s free. You risked your life to get me out of there, and I can’t ever repay that.”
“I don’t want your gratitude,” Leo growled.
Cassidy could smell the alcohol on his breath, but surprisingly it didn’t turn her off. It simply reminded her of the lengths to which this man had gone in order to save her. “What do you want?” she whispered.
“I want you to be happy. You and Mario. I want you to live the life you were always meant to live. A safe one. One free of worries.”
“There is no such thing as a life without worries,” Cassidy informed him.
He snorted, and she felt his chest rumble as a result.