Chapter 5 Lia
LIA
“Leo, come on. Let’s go.” I pound on the door of the bathroom.
As soon as I heard that Tim’s wife liked to hang out at Checkers, I knew we had to go. Leo left the food he’d planned to make for the failed dinner with Josh in the fridge, and I changed my outfit into something more appropriate for hitting the seedy club.
Checkers isn’t a place I’ve been to a lot since moving to Florida.
I drove right past it probably a million times, thinking it was probably as dirty and scary inside as it looked on the outside, until one night I realized they had a darts league.
We were bored, and I figured it would be cool to check it out.
Leo humored me by tagging along. The place definitely has the vibe of a closed club.
Quiet conversation, dark lighting. The least chatty bartenders you’ll ever meet.
But if Juliette hangs out there, we at least have to try to find her there.
Leo opens the bathroom door and pushes past me. “This is pointless, Lia,” he says, sounding annoyed. “I don’t know what we’re expecting to find at this fucking place. Tim hanging out at a table, tossing back beers with friends?” He shakes his head.
“We have to try,” I remind him. “We have two weeks to find Tim, so we start with what we know. We check out this bar, ask if anyone knows Juliette or has seen Tim. If we don’t get anywhere, we go on to the next thing.”
Leo slips on his leather vest, the one with his prospect patch. “What’s the next thing, Lia? Tim hasn’t contacted me in a year. He hasn’t wanted to be found. And now? With a criminal trial ahead and a bail agent after him? This is a big waste of time.”
I stand in front of him and grab his shoulders. I look into his eyes and give him a shake. “Leo, I know this sucks. I know how shitty it feels that the one person you love and trust in the world can take everything from you and not even seem to care.”
The words flow out of me before I realize how close to home they hit. I’m growing emotional for Leo, but truthfully, for myself as well. I blink away the tears and I try to rally my anger, because if that’s what we need to save Leo’s house, my home, that’s what I’m going to do.
“It’s not the first goddamn time, Lia.” He looks really angry now, but I know he’s not directing it at me. “Do you know what it was like to have to steal back my own shit from the building when Morris bought it? To watch the only job I ever had disappear because Tim threw it all away?”
He rubs his face with his hands, and I catch a whiff of his cologne.
I want to hold him close and ease the pain he’s feeling.
We’re not that different, Leo and I. He lost the only family he ever had way too young, way too painfully.
I grew up without a dad and basically raised myself while my mother worked. Different paths to the same outcome.
“Don’t think about that tonight,” I urge. “Let’s just check out this club. It’s one thing we can do. We still have some control over what happens.”
“We don’t even know what Juliette looks like. How will we know her if she’s there?” Leo’s softer now, sounding resigned.
“That doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “I have a plan. We need to get there and start acting like the kind of people Juliette will want to find her.”
Leo tilts his chin at me and gives me a smoldering look. “You look amazing,” he says. “Fuck this. Let’s stay home and have a satisfying night in. Drowning my sorrows in you sounds like a much better way to spend my time.”
I’m tempted. Jesus, I’m tempted.
It doesn’t matter if we got it on this morning or an hour ago—Leo does something to me.
Looking at him in his broken-in jeans and the skintight T-shirt with his vest on, I feel my mouth practically water.
His shoulders are sagging under the weight of what’s going on, but I know every muscle and ridge in his body.
I can picture the freckles and spots on his skin, the tiny scars and every bit of ink that makes him my Leo.
I hate seeing him this way. It does something. Not only to my body, but to my heart.
I squeeze his shoulders under my hands and tug him close.
“We still have a house to come back to,” I remind him. “There will be plenty of time for satisfaction…” I try to press a light kiss against his lips, but Leo returns the kiss by crushing me against the hallway wall.
I close my eyes and kiss him back, losing myself in the feel of his hands in my hair.
He tugs hard, harder than normal, but the tiny prickle in my scalp sets my whole body on fire.
It’s like that line between pleasure and pain is so thin, but Leo walks it like a pro.
When he drags his mouth from mine, he doesn’t take his hands from my hair, but he pulls my head back to look at me.
“I’m sorry to drag you into this,” he says. “Something about it doesn’t feel right. My family’s shit… Maybe you should go live with Alice and Morris, at least temporarily. I’ll see if there’s a room I can crash in at the club…”
“Leo!”
Now it’s my turn to tug on him. I pull away from his hold and grab his hands.
“Listen to me,” I demand. “We have options if it comes to that, okay? Neither one of us is going to be out on the street if Josh takes the house. But for two more weeks, this is our home. We’re in this together, okay?
And I’m not giving all of this up without a fight. ”
“All of this?” he echoes.
I nod. “We’re best friends,” I remind him. I almost start to say something else, but there’s more bubbling under the surface than Leo’s anger. I don’t want to overcomplicate this. Things are complicated enough.
I think Leo feels the same way.
He nods. “Yeah…” He releases my hands and shakes his head. “You’re right. I guess. It’s only one night.”
He smooths his T-shirt and runs a hand through his hair.
“All right, here goes nothing. You ready?”
“Yeah…” I tap the vest on his chest. “Let’s go catch your brother’s wife.” I turn to head downstairs, but Leo stops. He heads back to his bedroom, shrugging off his leather vest as he goes.
“This isn’t a night I want associated with the MC. Having anything that could identify me or the club later…” He looks a little torn, like he is having to choose between two parents. In a way, he is choosing between two families. But only for a temporary goal.
“Good call,” I say. “Besides, we should take your truck, not the bike. Maybe we’ll have fun and have a drink or two. I want to be able to drive us home if you get rowdy.”
I nudge him playfully, and he nudges me back, the shadow of my Leo coming back to me.
We head downstairs, and I give a few kisses to the dogs.
Leo locks up the house, and we climb into his pickup.
We make the drive to Checkers in silence, and when we get there, he parks at the back of the parking lot, between two other trucks, far from the door.
“If Tim is here,” he explains, “he’ll recognize my truck.”
I nod, and we head across the parking lot. I step close to him and grab his hand. He flicks a questioning look at me. We never hold hands in public, display affection of any kind. “Cover story?” I ask, smirking at him. “In fact, maybe we should use fake names…”
Leo squeezes my hand before he releases it. His expression darkens.
“What is it?” I ask, following his eyes.
“Arrow’s truck,” he says, jerking his chin toward a sleek black pickup. I don’t remember enough about Josh’s truck from earlier to be sure that’s him.
“You sure?” I ask. “I didn’t really pay attention to it this morning.” I didn’t add that I was too fixated on the guy himself. And his tattoos. And the beefy muscles underneath those tatts.
“Not one hundred percent,” Leo admits. “But it would make sense he’d be here too.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but, yes, it does make sense. If we are staking out Tim, odds are good that Josh would too. Especially since he didn’t find Tim where he expected to—at the shop or the house.
“Should we use fake names or something?” I ask him. “What if we—”
Leo grabs the door to the bar. “Let’s play it by ear. If Arrow’s here, we’re not going to be able to keep a cover story in place.” He holds the door open for me. “Go on. Stay close to me and be careful. If anything seems off, we bail.”
As we head inside the dark bar, I shove past him and give my ass a little shake to remind him to lighten up a little.
He looks like he’s here for a fight, and I may not know Checkers, but any time a man walks into a bar looking like Leo does, with an expression like that on his face—losing his house would be only one of many problems Leo was inviting in.
Checkers is exactly as I remember it. Scarred tables with rickety chairs are scattered throughout the poorly lit space.
Neon signs on the walls are promoting beer brands, but most of them have stopped working or have been damaged.
I can’t help wondering if there have been brawls in here.
Maybe flying beer bottles, or even heads, cracked the signs.
But the drug-den décor doesn’t seem to put a damper on the people in the place.
Every table is full. There’s a rowdy game of darts being played, and the bartenders—a woman and a man—are slinging drinks to a packed bar. I can see Leo scanning the crowd, looking for Tim or maybe Josh. I’m not sure. I’m not sure what he’ll do if he sees either of them.
I feel the heat of his hand against my lower back. “Let’s get a drink.” He nods at me, urging me to make my way through the crowd.
We stand as close as we can get to the bar—which isn’t close at all. The male bartender looks us over, his face a sullen mask. I can see from this distance he has unusual scars on his right hand. Old, well-healed, but big.