32. Leo
CHAPTER 32
Leo
Who the hell is knocking on my door this late?
I reach for where my phone is charging on my nightstand and blind myself because I forgot to turn the brightness down. Quickly decreasing the brightness, I blink a few times until my eyes adjust.
Midnight.
The only person who could be knocking at my door right now is the woman who lives across the hall. I’m not in the mood to play games tonight. I lock my phone and lay back down, choosing to ignore her.
That is until the knocks become more frantic, and I hear her pleading for me to let her in. The scared tone in her voice makes me jump out of bed.
Something is wrong.
What if something happened to Chloe when they were out?
I race to the door, not bothering to dress myself. When I swing the door open, my eyes widen at the sight before me.
Blood.
There is so much blood. And it’s covering Veronica’s skin. Her legs are covered. The black dress has dark stains in spots and is drenched in others. The blood continues up her arms, on her neck, and is splattered all over her face.
“Can I come in?” Her voice quivers as she asks.
I step aside, allowing her to enter. “What the hell happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is Chloe okay?”
“Chloe is fine.” She tosses her heels by the wall next to the front door. Veronica stands there, staring forward as if she were in a daze.
“What about you?” I ask once I’m standing in front of her. “This blood?—”
“It’s not mine.”
Inspecting her body for any marks, I meet her hazy stare. “What did you do?”
“I—uhm—I—” Her words get lost as she swallows, shutting her eyes and shaking her head.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Then you can tell me what happened.” I move beside her, my hand finding her lower back as I guide her to the bathroom. “Does that sound okay?”
She nods, not saying anything in response. When we arrive in the bathroom, I flick the light on and immediately start the shower.
Veronica stands still, looking at herself in the mirror. There is still a sheen in her eyes, and it doesn’t seem like she sees her reflection.
“Veronica,” I cautiously call her name. Her eyes slide slowly to me. She stays standing there as I approach. “I’m going to take your dress off.”
“No.” She shakes her head, stepping out of my reach. “Don’t touch it.”
“Vee—”
“No, Leo. If someone finds out, the dress could be evidence.” Her hands clench into fists at her side. “Your prints can’t be on it.”
Evidence? Jesus. What did she do?
“We will get rid of the dress,” I tell her, moving an inch closer. “We can burn it.”
She meets my stare. I knew the offer of burning it would get her attention. “Where?”
“In the basement. There is an incinerator for trash.” One more step toward her. “I’ll bag it up and toss it in there.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounds defeated.
Carefully, I pinch the thin strap of her dress and drag it down her arm, being cautious not to let any blood touch my skin. I proceed to do the same with the other, and when her arms are free from the straps, I have to bend down and tug the dress off by its hem. Veronica steps out of it and then heads to the shower.
Once she is under the hot water, I leave go to the bathroom to get a trash bag from the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Fear laces her voice, causing me to stop.
“To grab a trash bag,” I inform her. “I’m going to throw the dress out while you get cleaned up.”
“Don’t leave.” The plea is quiet compared to the stream of water.
I’ve never seen her like this before. She did act odd when she was released from solitary, but this is different. Without saying anything, I slip out of my boxers and join her.
We stare at each other momentarily before she steps fully under the water. Blood falls from her body, swirling down the drain. Stepping backward, she scrubs her hands together to clean herself of the blood. Once they are somewhat clean, she scrubs at her face.
The water at her feet is red, and it’s never-ending. No matter how hard she scrubs, it’s like the blood never gets clean from her skin.
Leaving her momentarily, I open a drawer on the vanity and pull out a washcloth. Back in the shower, I grab the body wash and apply a generous amount.
“Turn around,” I command nicely.
She obeys, looking from the cloth and then back to my face. “You’re going to wash me?”
“Is that okay?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I start with her face, gently rubbing the cloth over her forehead, making my way down to her cheeks. As I wipe the blood away, the makeup she applied for the night comes off with it. Those freckles I love so much shine against her skin.
“Why are you smiling?” Her question takes me out of my thoughts.
“Your freckles.” I swipe the cloth over the area where they are more prominent. “I missed seeing them.”
Veronica stares at me while I continue to wipe her down. I move to her chest, taking my time getting the red off her. Bringing my arm around her, I rinse out the washcloth and begin wiping down her other arm.
“Looks like I’ll have to burn this too,” I state, getting the last of the red off her hands. Kneeling before her, I start wiping at her thighs. “Ready to tell me why you showed up on my doorstep covered in blood?”
A sigh leaves her, and when I glance up, her head has fallen back to where she looks at the ceiling. “Did you know your sister's friend, Sylvia, planned the bachelorette party at a nightclub?”
“I did not. Seems like a stupid place to take a pregnant woman.”
“That’s what I said! Chloe left as soon as we got there. Myles picked her up,” she says to calm my nerves about something happening to my sister. “This guy on the dance floor got handsy with me while I was headed for the bathroom. I told him no, but when he didn’t take no for an answer, I introduced his balls to my knee.”
“Appropriate thing to do to a sleazeball.” I laugh a little at how she delivered the line. “Still doesn’t explain why you were dripping in blood.”
“I decided to walk home, seeing as I was on an adrenaline high.”
“From?” I switch legs, cleaning off her right one.
“I might have smashed Sylvia’s face into the bathroom mirror.”
I pause the circles I was making on her skin to peer up at her. “You what?”
“She’s a bitch! Made the whole day about herself when it should have been about Chloe. She was also mad that I am the Maid of Honor. Did you know that? You probably didn’t because if you did, you would have talked Chloe out of it and?—”
I’ve never seen Veronica ramble. It’s cute.
“Veronica, slow down,” I cut her off.
“Right.” Her body relaxes, but only a bit. “Anyways, I felt bad for your sister. Today was supposed to be about her, but Sylvia ruined it. So, I threatened her.”
“But this isn’t her blood?”
“No. It’s not.” She takes a deep breath before going on. “Like I said, I was walking home from the adrenaline high. Then, I realized that a guy from the club was following me. He was going to hurt me, Leo. I did what I had to do.”
Getting back to my feet, I toss the dirty washcloth into the corner of the tub. “You killed him?”
Another nod.
“Veronica—”
“Leo! That man was going to hurt me! He was going to try and force sex on me.” The volume of her voice turns up a notch. The thought of a man taking advantage of her like this has my body heating with rage. “I defended myself. Did I get carried away? Yes, but I did what I had to do.”
“What did you kill him with?”
“I carry a pocket knife with me at all times.”
“Of course you do.” It shouldn’t surprise me. She loves her knives.
“What would I have done if I didn’t have it on me?” Her body lip quivers like she might cry. “I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off with my bare hands.”
I cup her head in my hands, making her look at me. “You did what you had to do, Vee.”
She blinks, a tear falling down her cheek. “At the moment, I was full of adrenaline and rage, but when I walked the rest of the way home, that’s when it hit me. What he could have done to me. And now I’m fucking crying.”
“I’ve always told you it’s okay to cry.” My thumb brushes away a tear. “Remember? You don’t always have to be strong. You can let go sometimes.”
“I don’t like emotions.” She frowns. “I wish they never found a home in me.”
Her confession takes me by surprise. A woman diagnosed as a sociopath admitting that she feels ? It could be another game of hers. Another way to manipulate me, but given the circumstances, what she just went through… I don’t think anything she is feeling right now is a game.
“I’m sorry.” The apology comes out of nowhere and confuses me.
“You don’t have to be sorry for what you did tonight. It was self-defense and?—”
“No,” she cuts me off. Her hand meets my jaw, holding it gently. I relax into her touch. “I’m sorry for what I did to you—hurting you the way I did. Guilt has been eating away at me ever since I left you alone in those woods. I’m sorry, Leo.”
It's an apology I never thought I’d get.
Back in prison, when I was worried about her visiting me when she showed up unannounced and wanted to speak, I was terrified that if she were to apologize, it would hurt me more.
But that's not how I feel now. Hearing the apology from her mouth almost mends a piece of my shattered heart.
She’s lying, Leo.
I wet my lips, pushing that little voice of doubt from my head. My eyes dance between hers as I search for a lie.
But I don’t see one. Either she is acting her ass off, or she genuinely means it.
Without even thinking, I lower my lips to hers. The moment her soft mouth is touching mine, lightning zips through me. I missed her taste, and I hate that I missed it so much. The kiss only lasts for a second because I’m worried if I keep it going, I won’t stop.
The feel of her lips on mine lingers. I hope it never goes away.
“Let me wash your hair, then we can get you to bed.” I gaze down at her face. Her beautiful fucking face that haunts me. Her eyes are red from crying, and her skin matches the shade from being rubbed raw.
The man in me can’t help moving my eyes down her body, where her breasts are dripping with water, her nipples hard. My mind is whirling with the temptation to lower myself and take one of her nipples into my mouth. I swallow down the desire and bring my eyes back to hers.
Veronica looks tired. And defeated.
When she was released from solitary, exhaustion was the first thing I saw from her. But the defeat… this is new.
She nods sheepishly in response, and I grab the shampoo from the shelf. Squeezing it into my hand, I lather it into her hair, smiling because now she will smell like me. I repeat the act, rewashing her hair because blood did get in it, and I want to ensure she is clean.
Next, I apply the conditioner to her ends. I turn her body to face forward. This way, she succumbed to the warmth while I stepped out of the shower. Veronica watches me intently as I pull open the same drawer as before to grab a clean washcloth.
Stepping back behind her, I put a generous amount of body wash on the cloth. Starting with her shoulders, I massage the soap into her skin. She hums in satisfaction. It’s almost like a praise. Telling me I’m doing a good job, which sends signals straight to my dick.
Careful not to get her hair, I lift it and move it over to her other shoulder. The silence is calming between us as I wash her back and legs.
“Turn around for me,” I demand lightly.
She does as she’s asked. When she turns, I’m still crouched down from washing her legs, and her pussy is in my direct line of sight. Internally, I groan. I want nothing more than to taste her, but now isn’t the time. So instead, I lean forward and plant a gentle kiss just above her clit.
She sighs, almost in relief, but I don’t continue with the thoughts running around in my mind. I clean her from head to toe until there isn’t a trace of blood left on her body. Once pleased with how clean she is, I shut the water off and step out.
Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around my waist before handing her my extra one. Her movements are slow when she wraps the cotton around herself. The adrenaline must be wearing off.
“I’m going to get rid of your dress and the washcloth. Stay here until I get back, okay?”
“Okay,” she complies.
I put on some boxers before going under my kitchen sink and pulling a trash bag out of the cardboard box it came in. Well, I grabbed two. When I return to the bathroom, Veronica still stands in the same spot, staring down at the dress.
Opening both trash bags, I use one as a glove and pick up the dress, carefully dropping it into the other bag. Then, I step into the shower to grab the dirtied clothes.
“I’ll be right back.”
She nods, hugging the towel closer to her chest.
The good thing is that since it is so late, all of the older residents should be asleep by now, so I feel better knowing that I’m not risking running into anyone on the way to the basement. But my heart still races at the chance a neighbor will see me.
Luckily, I arrive at the basement without any issues. I open the door to the incinerator and toss the bags inside. With the door shut, I press the button that ignites the fire and sit there until it turns off. I need to make sure it completely burns.
After the machine stops, I open the door to see the garbage bags and the dress are no longer there. Sighing in relief, I stare up at the ceiling, silently hoping this is the last time I have to help Veronica in this way.
I return to the lobby and enter the elevator, whose doors are still open. Pressing the number for my floor, the doors slowly shut when I hear someone yell, “Hold that for me!”
Being nice, I stop the doors from closing to let the person in. The man is around my age, wearing dark blue jeans and a white polo shirt.
“Thanks, man.” He relaxes next to me, back against the elevator wall.
“Welcome,” I answer, keeping my eyes forward.
In the reflection, I see his head fall to the side to look at me. “Why are you in your boxers?”
There is a slur to his words. He is drunk. Great. “Didn’t feel like getting dressed.”
He hums, still watching me. “I’ve never seen you before. Does this mean that little witch Camille brought a guy home?”
That catches my attention. “Excuse me?”
“She never brings a guy back to her place. At least I haven’t seen her bring one.”
“You keep tabs on her?” The thought makes me sick to my stomach. Who the hell is the guy?
“I used to. When I wanted to fuck her.” The slimy grin resting on his face drops. “Until she held a knife to my throat. Then I realized what a crazy bitch she was. If you are here for her, then good luck to you, man.”
This must be how Veronica feels when she gets angry and can’t control it. I want to punch this guy right in the face for speaking of her this way. My hands tightened into fists by my side, but they loosened when his words hit me again.
He used to keep tabs on her until she took a knife to his throat. He isn’t a threat, and she made sure of that. I don’t have to fight Veronica’s battles for her because she is capable of doing so herself.
“You live here then?” I question.
“Mhm.” His eyes grow heavy. “Same floor as her.”
“I see.” The elevator dings and the doors open, but he doesn’t move to exit. I step forward, standing on the threshold before turning to face him.
The man’s eyes leave my face and drop to my scar. “Damn. That’s nasty.”
“Yeah, it is.” My head tilts down to look at the mark she left on me. “Seems that you weren’t the only one she held a knife to. And if you decide to pursue her again, I’ll make you regret ever making that decision.”
His spine straightens. Those drunk, heavy eyes growing wide.
“I won’t. She’s all yours.”
Nodding once, I leave him and walk down the hall, smirking because he’s right.
She is all mine .