seventeen #2
“Whatever. I’m tired of having this fucking conversation with you.”
Leo straightens his spine, flicking the water from his fingers then dries them off on a towel.
He pushes past me, out into the bedroom.
When Leo's bare skin touches mine, it’s warm and inviting.
For some reason, I thought it would be cold like his demeanor.
I follow him out and find him rummaging through one of his dresser drawers.
“I cannot force you off your fucking pedestal, and I’m far too exhausted to try,” Leo continues, his voice dropping into that dangerously quiet register.
I should feel like I won this round, but I don’t.
I still have a strange, frustrating desire to step forward and pull him into a hug, because right now, he looks entirely beaten. Much older than his twenty-eight years.
“Like I said, I’ve got better fucking things to do. Think what you want of me, I don’t care. Some lives aren’t worth saving, Callisto. Some people deserve death, and one day you will realize it. I hope one day you’re put into a situation where you have to protect someone you love,
and your only choice is to kill. I want to watch you eat your fucking words, and I know they’ll be as bitter as they sound coming out of your mouth right now. I hope it fucking rocks your world—because you are nothing more than an entitled, self-absorbed, little brat.”
I gape at him, unsure of how to respond or to even process what Leo said. Gone is any sort of desire to comfort the man in front of me. The monster. I’m somewhere between infuriated and offended. My body shakes, my limbs filled with rage. I want to choke the asshole with his assumptions.
I would never, ever take a life. I’m better than that. I’m better than Leo. No matter the circumstances. That is not a possibility. I try to imagine a scenario where I would kill someone, but there are always alternatives, right? There has to be. Killing isn’t the answer.
Leo grabs the backpack, then bends down in front of the nightstand running his now clean fingers along the bottom to pop it open.
Of course there’s a secret latch. It looks like a normal nightstand.
I can’t see exactly what he is doing, so I step to the left to peer over his shoulder.
My eyes bulge at the sight of the stacks of money inside.
Leo opens the backpack, revealing even more money inside.
He then grabs the money in the safe and starts stuffing it into the backpack with the other cash.
“Did you seriously kill that man for money, today? Oh my god. Is that how you pay for this?”
I gesture around wildly. “You kill people, take their money and use it to line your own pockets. He probably worked hard for that money, and what did you do for it? Kill him then have the inconvenience of washing the blood from your hands?”
“Callisto…” Leo stands up, his voice barely penetrating the furious haze I find myself in.
“Mi fai schifo.” You disgust me.
“Of course, you speak Italian…” but I cut him off.
“I can’t believe that I- Oh my god. What we did last night. I can’t believe I let you touch me.”
I swallow, trying to keep the vomit from completing its entrance into the world.
Tears sting my eyes. “You touched me with your filthy, blood stained hand.”
Losing my battle with my tears, they stream down my face.
My breaths come out in short quick huffs, panic rising in my system, presenting itself in the form of shaking limbs and uneven breaths.
“Callisto, calm down. It’s not what you think. I swear. It’s not. Please don’t have a panic attack on me. Deep breaths.”
Leo’s voice is gentle as it breaks through my haze.
My vision clears enough to see his face, his expression worried.
I try to even out my breathing, feeling Leo's small hand on my chest, while he talks to me in a soothing tone. I can’t tell what he is saying, though.
All I can think about is the fact that the hand over my heart is the very same one that forced another heart to stop beating only hours prior, and I allowed that hand to touch my body.
Allowed it to pleasure me last night, and I would be tempted to do it again because it’s the best I had felt in far too long.
“How could it possibly not be what I think, Leo? You come home with blood on your hands and a backpack full of money, then you admit to killing a man, and now you’re putting money in your safe!”
I say between labored breaths, more panic rising to the surface.
It’s about to boil over, threatening to take my grip on reality with it.
My chest hurts, and I can’t seem to get enough air. I want to curl into a ball and hide.
“Look, I know you hate me and don’t trust me which is fine because I’ve never given you a reason to, but I’m not lying. It’s not what you think. I was taking money out of my safe, not putting money in it,” Leo explains, and I try to focus.
He was removing money from his safe to put with the money in the backpack?
Why would he do that if he was going to keep it to buy things?
Was he taking it to his bank? That wouldn’t make much sense because a deposit that large is bound to raise suspicions.
“What are you doing with the money then?”
I ask, my breathing starting to regulate and my heart rate slowing down.
I look at Leo, silently begging him to tell the truth.
I don't know how much more of this I can take.
I hate myself for allowing Leo to touch me, knowing his past, but at the same time I yearn for it to happen again.
My body feels like it is being ripped to pieces, and I’m not even sure which direction I should follow.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Leo sighs, reaching up to play with his pendant. I sniffle, wiping my eyes.
“Try me,” I respond, eyes narrowing.
“Fine. It would be easier if I showed you. Get dressed and come with me. We are going on another field trip,” Leo says after a few minutes, seemingly in deep thought.
I don't question him. I turn on my heel to walk out of the room, going to the guest room to change as he instructed.
I have no idea where we are going, but I don’t think anything will convince me that he didn’t do anything wrong.
I shouldn’t even agree, but here I am, changing into more of Leo’s clothes, going to follow a criminal into oblivion for the second time in 24 hours.