Chapter 45
Forty-Five
Leo
I pop the trunk and set the grocery sacks next to the packed bags. I have ten more minutes until my break is over. I need to hurry.
After a quick glance over my shoulder, I transfer the perishables to the cooler, and the rest of the food to the dry bag. After slipping back into the truck, I count the remaining cash I have and sigh. It’s enough for what I need to do, but that’s about it.
I pull my phone from my pocket, click into the travel app and, for what feels like the hundredth time today, I confirm that my 5 a.m. flight is on time.
It will be tight. I have to work until past 2 a.m., then pack my remaining bags, then drive an hour to the airport.
Her face flashes behind my eyes, and I get the same sick feeling every time I think of her. Regret.
I am not the type of man Brittney Walsh needs, that much is clear. But knowing it doesn’t erase the memory of our one, short-lived night together.
I’d had my eye on Brittney since the first time she stepped foot in my bar with her friends. The third time, with a churning stomach and sweaty palms, I made a move.
It was the first good decision I’ve made in what feels like years.
I was nervous. Me, the guy who spent years running special ops in the military, then running black ops for Astor Stone (only to hurt my back and be discharged from further missions).
There was just something about the girl that spoke to me. Pulled me in.
When we got to my place, we ended up talking for an hour before going to the bedroom. Brittney has this sweet, innocent outlook on life. She’s a hard worker, an eternal optimist, and sees the best in people.
She reminded me of the type of woman I’d wanted my daughter to grow up to be—and that is something I haven’t been able to stop thinking of.
I wanted all that in my life. Her, and everything that came with her.
It was the first time I’d had sex since Valerie—and it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. After we finished, I wanted to wrap her up, put her in my pocket, and carry her around with me everywhere.
But then, Valerie’s face flashed behind my eyes, her threat echoing in my ear.
I’ll never forget that day. I was in New York, working in Astor’s penthouse, when she pulled me into the master bathroom. There, she told me that Chloe was mine, and that if I didn’t go along with it, she would tell Astor and he would kill me. For years, I worked for Astor sneaking peeks at the daughter I knew was mine, while watching another man raise her. Knowing that if that man found out, I was as dead as roadkill. When she was feeling generous, Valerie offered me little mementos from Chloe; pictures, finger paintings, an ornament she made in pre-school, but it didn’t help.
It ate a hole in my gut. The guilt of knowing I was deceiving the one man I looked up to, I admired. The regret of the decision I’d made with his wife.
I couldn’t eat.
I couldn’t sleep.
I became a closed-off hermit, rarely speaking to anyone, rarely leaving my apartment when not at work.
Then I met Brittney, and all the darkness seemed to float away. I felt happy. Real joy. Hope.
Then, it was gone. Next day, while at the beach house, Valerie started randomly calling out for Chloe. She hadn’t spoken her name in years. And I knew she was going to tell him our secret.
Looking back, I think I knew all along. You see, nothing gets past Astor Stone. Not forever anyway. I’ve been biding my time, living a nightmare of regret since that day.
For the last three months, I’ve been saving every penny while devising my getaway plan. A plan that didn’t involve dragging a sweet, innocent nurse down into the depths of hell with me. It was so hard to pretend that I didn’t care for her. But what was I supposed to do? I knew I was leaving. And I knew, at the end of the day, I was no good for her, anyway. Men like me, who have done the things I’ve done, don’t deserve love.
Astor will come for me, I know that, but I’m not going to make it easy on him.
In a matter of hours, I’ll be out of here.
Somewhere far away from my mistakes.