Leon's Way (21 page)

He doesn’t reply, and from what Katsu tells me, it’s not because he can’t. “I’m going to be a father,” I say.

Surprise flickers and dies in dull eyes.

“And you’re a fucking
road block
! Across this parking lot, lies a girl who’s so sweet that no one—
no one
—deserves her. But somehow she’s decided to love me, and this woman is eight months pregnant with my little boy.

“Yes, boy,” I continue. “Should be a red flag to me, right? Shouldn’t I stay far away, make sure I don’t become you, beating, beating on my son and never worrying if he cried?”

My father’s voice trembles from the bed. “You’re not me.”

What the fuck?

“You’re speaking? Damn straight I’m not you. I’ll never put my child down. Scream at him. Kick him. Make him fear for his mother or his sister. Hell no.”

“Leon, I’m glad you came. I wanted to tell you how—”

I can’t hear what he’s about to say. Can’t listen to him ask for forgiveness. If Kat’s psych lessons are right, him throwing out an apology and me not accepting wouldn’t be good. And fuck if I’m standing by to test it out, watching him get guilt off his chest and swamping me with his dark matter instead.

In two steps, I’m by his side. I hunch over and place my hands around his neck, squeezing. I’m experienced at this. Generally, I use the move to heighten my broken-girls’ orgasms. Now, I’m obstructing the old man’s oxygen to make him stop bleating. He instantly catches on and obeys.

I smile, realizing I’ll be taking Kat up on the suggestion of telling him fairytales. Only with Kat gone, they can be gritty documentaries. “Remember this move, Dad?” I ask. A myriad of reactions cross his features as he rolls through the past in his mind.

“Hmm, you might’ve been too drunk most of the times.” I drop his throat to count on my fingers. “One: you used it on me when I didn’t like my hot soup—after you pushed my face into the bowl. Two: you used it on Mom—if she got too scared to remain quiet. Three: you used it on Kat the night before I made her disappear from you.”

“Can I talk?” he whispers so I don’t refasten my stranglehold on him again.

“Nope. Oh, Dad, Dad,” I say, recalling another snippet for him. “I’m heading over to my sweetest girl, but you want a little story to nap on? I prefer the ones with a happy ending myself.” I let go of him entirely and stretch, excited over what I’m about to recount.

“Our last fairytale ended with Kat getting on a plane to San Francisco. Not sure anyone told you what happened to me? See, I did return home for a moment afterward. You were still in the bathroom, conscious but unable to get up due to my little retaliation.” I suck in a relieved breath at the thought.

“What a strange sensation to stand there, studying you, and know you couldn’t hurt any of us anymore. Mom had been out of harm’s way for years. Kat was on the plane to the Golden State. And I? The sensation of power I had when I realized I could break you, Dad…”

I shake my head, thinking back to my warring emotions, my rage over the realization that I was so much stronger than him. How had I not known? I could have beaten his ass long ago! I wanted to crush him over and over again. Crack him in half. Live at home so I could terrorize
him
from now on. Give him everything back tenfold so that we were even.

An eye for an eye. Hell—
ten
eyes for each fucking one.

Religion does it to many people. Inspires them to reach their full potential. For me, what snapped me out of my desire to become his worst, ever-lingering nightmare was my dojo.

“I left you in peace because of the karate, Dad. Did you know that? For years, they taught me about respect for others, about self-discipline, forgiveness, losing my ego. I learned to use my physical advantage as a last resort. During my childhood, all
you
taught me by example was the opposite of what my sensei emphasized: mental strength being as important as the physical. Turning the other cheek. Controlling oneself.”

I laugh out loud, remembering how I’d still been a child, not fully harnessing my impulses yet. When I returned from the airport after sending Kat off to San Francisco, I’d shot air punches at him on the floor. I did it so close to his face that he whimpered, because he expected me to squash him again.

“Did you enjoy it when we cowered from you?” I ask him, nodding once for him to answer.

This comes easy to me; I read him like I read everyone else, and now his Adam’s apple bobs through the shame of the past.

“I didn’t think about it,” he replies. “I wish I could apologize to your mother. I lucked out when this amazing lady fell for me, but then I—”

“Dude, shut up. Simple answers, or I’ll abuse my intense physical superiority over you.” I wink. He inhales, wanting to keep going, litter out more garbage that’d make him feel good. The fucker shuts up, though, as soon as I crunch my hand tight, doing a half rotation with my fist in front of his nose and exhibiting bone-white knuckle. It’s not a technique at all, but what does he know? He never checked into my sport and has no idea. Now, he gets my drift and zips his ugly yapper.

I don’t need to mean business to be lethal. After the last times my father and I “chatted,” my guess is he realizes I could kill on technique only. I’m ten years older than when I last beat the shit out of him. Ten years stronger. Ten years deadlier.

He might not have given his family’s responses a second thought, but
I
wasn’t drunk when he finally feared
me
. “I enjoyed your cowardly fear of me on my last day at home,” I inform him, a hint of bliss coursing through me.

I resent you. ’Til death do us apart.

And when our eyes meet, the yellow-stained whites of his remain still under my scrutiny. I squash the tiny voice in my head. It sounds a hell of a lot like my mother’s, whispering the one word I’ve never worried about from my old sensei’s training.

Forgiveness.

Strange how popular I am since I got admitted to the hospital. Nurses and doctors are one thing—they cycle through every couple of hours—but what about the others? It’s like they think I’m about to fall off the face of the earth!

Over the last few days, everyone on staff at Smother has visited; Kat comes by, my mother has moved into a hotel room in town again, taking sick leave from work, and my love, my bittersweet love that I can’t keep once I’m out of here, has been with me every free minute he owns.

I’m supposed to relax, replenish my energy so I can tackle the everyday struggles of a pregnant woman with preeclampsia outside the hospital. The doctors haven’t upgraded my illness to the dreaded eclampsia yet, but if I have another bout of the type getting me in here, they’ll be inducing labor, robbing my baby of growing time in my stomach in order to save our lives.

Whenever Leon comes by, his level of self-control astonishes me. I doubt that anyone besides Kat and me glimpses the turmoil beneath his façade.

Today, he arrives early. He’s only been gone for three hours, during which time I’ve eaten, had a nap, and accepted an unannounced visit from Katsu. Faintly, I wonder if Leon lets Christian run the shop altogether at the moment.

The nurses adore him. They let him get away with murder. Anything Leon asks for, Leon gets, and who can blame them? Even the on-the-verge-of-retirement nurse, who’s really freaking good at policing visiting hours, holds my door open herself for my boyfriend.

“Thank you, Dorothy,” he murmurs, causing her to nod curtly as if by this she erases her own, casual handling of the rules. At first, my always-love stops in the doorway, and I recognize his breathing. It’s how he sounds when he’s been hitting punching bags with fury; Leon keeps his chaos shackled through calm, barely audible inhales.

I’m the queen of procrastination. After all, what good would it do to either of us if I broke up with him before I’m released? I couldn’t act on it, get set up in my own apartment again.

This morning, the staff rolled me into a double room where a screen separates me from another girl. She has the bed closest to the door. Leon leans in so he can see past my roommate. He studies me from afar before he approaches me, the way he does at the club. It always stirs my anticipation. As much as I know what I’ll do once I leave the hospital, my heart isn’t privy to the plan. It swells and speeds up.

I drink him in, because for now I can. The creamy tan of his skin, the smooth planes of his forehead, the high cheekbones. Today there’s no stubble dusting his features. His mouth is plump, ready for a smile, the light crook of the corners promising.

But his eyes…

Milky blues. Pupils too dilated. He’s upset but binds the despair. My heart bounces in ways it shouldn’t. It’s got to listen to me, and I—I’ve got to stop letting Leon’s moods influence my system.

I worry. Just—

Right now, the person I worry about is
him.

“Sweetie?” I sigh, allowing my eyes to widen and my mouth to drop open. “Come.”

He leans on the divider, a fist clamping around the metal frame. I stare at his hand. It’s so strong.
He’s
as strong as that hand. Only, I wish the darkness he’s braving weren’t too much for a man to remain standing. I don’t know how he manages, and I’m afraid he’ll buckle and not get up.

Me leaving Leon. No matter when, it will impact him. I swallow a lump in my throat and shove the thought away.

Think of the baby.

He comes to me slowly. Bright, such bright eyes rest on mine. There’s grief and hurt in them. But also a trace of… hope?

“What have you done?” I ask, because he’s done something.

He drops next to me on the bed, cups my face with both of those strong, everlasting hands, and dips his mouth to mine for a kiss. His voice is as low as mine when he whispers back, “I went to visit my father.”

I suck in a quick breath. “You did?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, sounding like he can’t believe his own words. “He was awake, and I slipped him a couple more truths about what a dick he is.”

“Good,” I say. According to Kat you should air your grievances. “Was he a happy camper?” I play along, smiling between the smooches he suckles to my lips.

“Not at all,” he admits, tone intimate.

“Tell me everything,” I plead. I need to know; hope sprouts in my crazy heart while my mind tries to wipe it out.

And Leon tells me. Sometimes, I prod with questions, and sometimes he stalls, censoring his words. I understand that I’m getting the PG version of what happened.

“At least you had a conversation,” I say. He hesitates instead of agreeing. “You let him answer that one time,” I specify.

A lopsided smile quirks one side of his mouth. “I did.”

“You know what I like the most of what you said?”

“You found something likable in this?” Leon asks. “Now I’m interested.”

“I did—the philosophy you learned in your martial arts training. Are you visiting him later?” I stroke the side his face. For a second, he blinks and moves his lips into my palm, breathing against it.

“Yes. For you.”

My heart shivers.

“No, Leon. For yourself so you can get better.”

“Is your friend asleep?” he asks instead of answering me.

“Which friend?”

Light fingers outline the shape of my throat and sketch a trail down to my chest. They fan out at the top of a breast, testing its swell. “I miss you, Arria.”

“No-no,” I wheeze out in an effort to keep my voice low. He’s referring to my roommate, and his intentions are clear. “Leon, we’re not taking a chance on her sleeping.”

The man isn’t much for listening. One palm already slinks into a bra cup and forms around my breast, massaging me. I’m pebbling at his touch, and he notices right away. A whispered groan puffs out of him as his mouth goes to my ear. “Do you know how hot this is? I adore your boobs. And I love that even here I can turn you on.”

I heave in air at his words. Leon might not speak romance, but the man could probably make me come with dirty-talk alone. “Stop… tell me more from your visit instead,” I try even though he’s told me everything.

“Or... how about I do this.” Leon lets go of my breast and sinks down on the chair next to my bed. I’m not sure of his intentions, but from the mischief in his eyes, I’m guessing I won’t approve of his next move.

My love sighs out an innocent puff and rests his chin on my shoulder. He’s too close for me to catch his expression, anything beyond his face. I jump when his hands sneak in below the blankets. A palm caresses my stomach over the hospital gown while the other, the other—

Causes goose bumps on its way up my inner thigh until it finds me bare! With our faces inches apart, I hear every word he breathes.

“No panties,” he mouths to me. “Ah. Damn, I miss you.” He strokes across my clit, down my cleft until he finds my entrance.

I don’t object, because his ministrations spellbind me. My nipples shrink again, reacting to his intimate massage.

“I’ll make you pant, baby. No sweet squeals, though,” he enunciates like he’d care. “What would the other lady think?”

“Leon, please…” I trail off. He’s so good at this. My hips move against him, facilitating his access, allowing his fingers to slide in and out in a sure, quiet pace.

“Did you know you’re wet as fuck?” I only catch what he says from the movements of his lips against my skin. “Arria. I want to go deep in you.” He shows me his desire by thrusting two digits into my channel and making me gasp.

“You want it?” he asks hoarsely. “To feel me inside of you?”

Shit, we’re getting louder. “Leon, she can’t notice,” I whisper, and on cue the other girl’s bed squeaks. Crap, she’s so close! “Why—we shouldn’t be…”

“True. You’re being dirty.” He nods his head into my shoulder, and I want to laugh in the midst of my lust.

My need for him skyrockets. I find myself fumble across his chest, down rows of taut abs, but Leon moves away. He gets up, withdraws from me to peer beyond the screen. He appears satisfied with his findings but doesn’t speak when he returns.

In a bright-eyed onceover, he registers my flushed face. Then, he cracks a sexy smirk and drops to his haunches. Leon lifts the comforter high enough to stare at me. I’m suddenly very aware of my position. To facilitate his access, my knees have spread wide on their own. Jesus, this is ridiculous.

I cover my mouth. Make an attempt at closing my legs, but Leon doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He tuts quietly, slides me wider instead and—

Ducks in under the covers to my… Ah!

“Please, don’t.” I pull my calves in around his head in a vise grip, but he’s stronger than me and draws them apart again. Cold air flows over my most private area, and I’m so sensitized right now, I’m about to—

“Sshh, baby.” Two seconds pass, and then his warm mouth covers my clit, licking, sucking, a delighted grunt vibrating from him against my core. He’s merciless, and I’m climbing, my hips moving on their own, helping, helping—

When I fall apart, Leon lets out a pleased puff against my folds. He laps at me until I squirm to get away. Hands tightening around my butt, he holds me still, but his tongue stops, and a quiet chuckle sends a last jolt of pleasure up to my abdomen.

“Jesus, Leon.” I grab his head and try to maneuver him around my very protruding belly. He gets up and bounces onto the mattress next to me. No sign of the turmoil I’d seen in his eyes before taints his irises. God, I love the carefree smile he flashes me. He’s so cocky right now. So full of himself.

Oh.

His lips glisten… from me? Leon dives in and kisses me, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I lift the corner of my sheet to dry his mouth, and of course he catches on, mortifying me further.

“Hmm, what’s this? You don’t like your taste?”

“Sshh, shut up,” I hiss out, causing him to laugh out loud.

“Ah, Arriane, my little prude. I love you.”

My blush lingers as my heart rate picks up.

Three tiny words. With everything he’s done over the last months, this shouldn’t be a surprise. It still is.

Ingela fixes her wild bob in the hand mirror she’s pulled from her purse. Every strand she touches is linen white. To me, it would be wrong to call her a platinum blonde, because all I ever think of with that term is overly processed hair. Ingela’s is natural, probably from the lack of sun and the harsh winters she talks about up there by the North Pole where she was born.

“So tomorrow you go home?” she asks.

“Yep, unless something crazy happens. I’m so ready to get out of here. How are things at Smother?”

“The freshmen have arrived! Oh my God, Arria. Leon has decided we’re cracking down. Jason’s been told to be on the lookout for fake IDs and turn people away. You know how the club fills up without them anyway.”

“Good! Jason’s never been much for spotting those, though. We always remind him,” I say. “Maybe the new guy’s better?”

“Hell no! He’s got his ass stuck up on his… uh.”

“That’s not the expression, but I get what you mean,” I tell her while she whips out pink lipstick and smears it on. She’s all decked out tonight. “Going somewhere?” I ask.

“I’ve got the night off, so I’m heading to the Blood Bank. They’re packing there these days too. Shit, Arria, I’ve never seen longer lines anywhere. The only bummer in Deepsilver? School has started!”

She groans. Then, she narrows her eyes at me. “You’re not registering for anything this semester either, huh?”

“Do I look like I’ll be studying?” I wink.

“Yep, the inside of a, uh, child wagon.”

“Stroller. Yes, definitely.” I smile at the thought of taking walks with a sleeping baby. Hoping that will happen more than rocking him in my arms with earplugs deep in my ear canals. “So. You’ll get to partake in the baby fun, Ingela.”

“Sure, I’ll wheel him around town and lie about him being mine.” She grins wide. Damn, that is a really bright lipstick.

“My hunch? He’ll look nothing like you, Inga.”

She snickers. “Hey, I’ll just say he’s the sputtering image of his dad.”

“Silly.”

Honestly, everything about Ingela brightens your day. She’s funny, fearless, blunt as hell; couple that with her charm, the girl’s a crackup to be around. Which is why my long-term plan is a little easier for me to stomach. “But yeah, I don’t mean just taking him for walks. I’m moving out of Leon’s.”