Chapter 16
LEO
Two weeks away from the hospital turned out to be exactly what my body, mind, and soul needed.
Fisher Island had lived up to its promise of isolation.
For the first few days, all I did was mourn in the quiet darkness of my room while outside, the sunshine made promises I wasn’t too interested in.
I mourned the husband I’d lost. But I also mourned the man I used to be before the Bratva entered my life.
A man who wouldn’t have slept with someone a mere month after his husband’s passing.
Let alone sleeping with one of the men responsible for said husband’s death.
And no matter how much I spun the incident, telling myself that I’d only slept with Sergei to get close to him, nothing could excuse the pleasure I’d felt in his body.
More pleasure than I’d gotten out of anything in a long time.
I grieved for that the hardest.
Some mornings I didn’t get out of bed until the sun was already high, and some nights I sat on the beach long after the tide came in, staring at nothing but thinking about everything.
How could my life end up like this? I’d tried so hard to be a good man. I spent most of my time taking care of people. Wasn’t good supposed to attract good? Then for what mistake was I suffering such losses?
Then came the meeting that had truly brought me to Florida.
I’d been nervous about it, having only spoken to my host once on the phone.
But he hadn’t personally shown up for the meeting.
He’d had a laptop delivered with the footage he wanted to show me of my husband’s murder.
After watching the video, listening, I had irrefutable proof that Brad hadn’t committed suicide.
I’d seen the truth of what happened on that day, July 22 at 2:22 p.m.
Morozov, Brad, and Wren on the rooftop. Brad had been wearing a recording device that captured the moment, which had shattered under the impact of his fall, but the events had already been saved remotely.
I thought I’d been prepared to view the footage.
I’d been so wrong because seeing Brad’s body at the morgue and thinking about it was nothing like seeing it happen in real time.
The sight itself was horrible.
But it paled in comparison to the sound his body made when it hit the ground. I’d had to listen to my husband’s bones breaking under the cruelty of his fall.
Brad had made mistakes. I knew that after watching the video. He shouldn’t have threatened Wren’s life, which had set Morozov off, but he’d made that choice in desperation and fear. All he’d wanted to do was warn Wren about what Morozov had done to both their fathers.
He’d been terrified up on that roof.
Maxim had been too unforgiving. He didn’t have to kill Brad, and not in such a terrible way. By the time the footage ended, my resolve was hardened. Maxim Morozov was a monster and deserved to go down.
The rest of my time on the island had passed in a strange, suspended rhythm of acceptance of what I had to do when I returned home. I walked along the beach and watched the sun dip into the horizon, wishing it were something I could hold on to. It was so beautiful in this ugly world.
One night, I joined a beach party next door and met a stranger I tried to lose myself in. I’d thought maybe I could outrun the memory of Sergei if I replaced it with someone else. It should be easy enough, given I was no stranger to sleeping with other men.
But I couldn’t.
His kiss hadn’t felt right. His waist was too soft. His chest wasn’t defined enough. There was no shortage of men in Florida who could fill every minor complaint I found in him, but they would all still have been lacking.
And the worst fucking part? The dissatisfaction should have been that he wasn’t the man I’d been married to for fifteen years.
Instead, it was because he wasn’t a mint-eyed murderer who stalked me at every turn, who wore danger like a second skin and still managed to unravel beneath my hands, submitting in a way that felt beautiful.
I’d never met a man like that before Sergei, and I would have gladly kept it that way.
After the one attempt at a hookup turned into verbal abuse and accusations of me being a fucking tease, I didn’t bother trying again.
As I wheeled my suitcase out of the airport, I felt the difference in my steps. They were lighter, but not because anything had been lifted from my shoulders. If anything, I was carrying more, but now, I had purpose.
My Uber was late, which would have annoyed me any other day.
I was a stickler for being on time. Instead, I watched the steady flow of people moving in and out of the terminal.
Families reuniting. Business travelers glued to their phones.
A couple arguing softly like they were the only ones in their world.
I started building stories in my head about them. Where they were coming from. Why they left. What they were going back to. It was easier than thinking about my own return. Easier than thinking about the house waiting for me.
About what I might find—or what I might not.
Maybe Sergei had forgotten about me. My stomach knotted, leaving my mouth with a sour taste. For a second, I couldn’t figure out if I was disappointed I might not be able to exploit him after all, or if…
A car pulled up to the curb, hazard lights blinking. I checked the license plate, which matched the one in the Uber app, so I moved forward.
“Leo?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The driver popped the trunk, and I lifted my suitcase in before sliding into the back seat. The door shut with a soft click, sealing me into a space that felt too small. Or maybe my emotions were just too big.
“Where to?” he asked, merging into traffic.
I knew it was only a courtesy since he could see that information in the Uber app displayed on his phone. I opened my mouth, but “Home,” got stuck in my throat.
“Actually…” I leaned forward slightly, my voice quietly apologetic. “Can you make a stop first?”
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Depends where.”
“I’ll pay you extra, of course,” I said quickly. “Cash.”
“Where to?”
I gave him the address, and he plugged it into his GPS.
“You know that’s a cemetery?”
“Yes. My partner was buried there a month ago. I’ll need just a few minutes. Please.”
“Ah, man, that sucks. Sure, I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
The city thinned the closer we got, buildings giving way to quieter streets, then open stretches of land broken up by rows of trees. The driver didn’t say much, just followed the directions without question, the hum of the engine filling the silence between us.
“Wait here,” I said when he pulled up to the gates and parked behind an expensive-looking BMW. “I won’t be long.”
“No more than fifteen minutes, please.”
“Got it.”
The gravel crunched under my shoes as I walked onto the grounds. It was quieter than I expected, though it wasn’t empty. A few people were scattered around, visiting their loved ones. The air smelled faintly of cut grass and rotting flowers.
I knew exactly where he was. I’d memorized it the day we buried him, even though I hadn’t been back since. A place this depressing had no business looking this neatly organized and beautiful.
My steps slowed as I approached, then stopped. Someone was already there.
A young man dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt over a jeans vest stood in front of Brad’s grave, his back to me, shoulders slightly hunched.
Fresh flowers rested at the base of the headstone, carefully arranged like someone had put thought into it.
Relief hit me. Brad hadn’t been alone. I might not have had the strength to visit him, but someone else had.
The man shifted, sensing me, and turned. Recognition flickered between us almost instantly.
I knew him.
Not well, but enough.
Brad and I had played with him a few times a couple of years ago.
Quiet, a little shy, but sweet in a way that had stood out among our playmates.
We’d met at the swingers club Brad and I were members of.
He’d admitted we were the first couple he’d played with, and we’d been gentle with him.
He always required a lot of aftercare and had ended up spending the night at our place once just so we could look out for him.
We didn’t typically allow sleepovers with our playmates, and we definitely did not share our bed the whole night. He’d been an exception.
His eyes widened slightly when he saw me. “I—” he started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be here. I shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s Nathanael. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, but just call me Nat.” He glanced at the headstone, then back at me, uncertainty written all over his face. “I just… He was kind to me. Both of you were. I heard about what happened and remembered.”
My chest tightened. “I’m glad you did. He would’ve liked that.”
The tension in his shoulders eased a little at that, though he still looked like he wasn’t sure where to put himself.
I moved to stand beside him, my gaze settling on Brad’s name etched into the stone. Seeing it like this—still, permanent—knocked the breath from my lungs for a second, but I stayed.
“Are you okay?” I asked after a moment, glancing at him. “I haven’t seen you at the club in a while.”
A small, sad smile touched his lips. “Yeah. I…I found someone. He wanted something exclusive, so I stopped going.”
“That’s good,” I said automatically, then shook my head slightly. “I mean, only if that’s what you wanted. No one should make you feel like you have to fit into something you’re not.”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
And almost immediately, my gut twisted. Because hadn’t I tried to do exactly that with Brad?
He wasn’t a monogamous man, and I knew that and agreed with it when we started dating.
I just never thought I’d get tired of the revolving doors of men in and out of our lives.
The boy’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I did want it,” he said quietly. “I loved him and would have done anything for him.”
I blinked. “Loved?”
He nodded once, looking back at the grave. “It didn’t work out.”
There was something final in the way he said it.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He shrugged lightly, but it didn’t hide the sadness there. “It’s okay. Life happens.”
A beat passed between us, then he stepped back slightly, hands sliding into his pockets. “I should go. It was nice seeing you again, Dr. Cavanagh.”
“Thank you,” I said, nodding toward the flowers. “For bringing those.”
His expression softened a little as he stared at the grave, then he turned and walked away. I watched him go. When he reached the edge of the cemetery, he got into the BMW I’d been admiring. He’d come a long way since I last saw him, which was over a year ago.
I turned back to the grave. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at Brad’s name like I was trying to memorize it all over again.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I expected. “I should’ve come sooner.”
The words felt inadequate for everything sitting inside my chest.
“I just… I couldn’t face this.” I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through my hair as I crouched down slightly, closer to the stone. “But I’m here now. And I’ll come back more often. I promise.”
My fingers brushed lightly over the edge of the headstone before I pulled my hand back, the cool surface lingering against my skin.
“I’m going to fix this. They’re going to pay for what they did to you. I’m working with someone who knows a lot more about them than I do, but it’s not going to be easy, and it’s dangerous, so I have to be cautious.”
“I just wish you’d confided in me, Brad. We were together for so long. Why couldn’t you tell me?” My eyes misted over with tears, and I swiped them away with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to blame you. I have to go now, but I’ll be back. I promise.”
I straightened, stepping back slowly, my gaze lingering one last time before I forced myself to turn away.