38. Leo
LEO
One week after Peyton returned to us, a single phone call from one of my men at the docks raised the hair on the back of my neck. “What do you mean, Anton isn’t dead?” I barely managed to ask the question without shouting.
A heartbeat of silence passed, then, “Just telling you what I heard. Rumors started yesterday. Not sure why he waited so long to show his ugly face, but the guys down here are adamant that he’s back.”
Fuck. A single curse word wasn’t enough, so I indulged in a long, furious string of Russian, not stopping until I ran out of breath and my vision swam.
“We turned New York into a fucking bloodbath the night we killed him.” The night we thought he was responsible for Peyton’s death. Never mind that we’d been wrong.
A man didn’t just come back from the dead.
Ridoc, my man at the docks, kept quiet.
“Thank you.” I ended the call while storming into the kitchen where Misha, Viktor, and Peyton had sat down for breakfast. Luka played with a new train set in the corner, and all four of them looked my way as I entered.
Luka shook his head and went back to his trains.
The others all stood, their movements so coordinated, they appeared synchronized.
“What?” Peyton took a step toward me.
I took a breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. “We promised no more secrets.”
“Yes.” Peyton sounded confused, and I didn’t blame her.
I closed the distance and rested my hands on her shoulders. “One of my men just called me from the docks. There are rumors that Anton is alive.”
Her knees gave out, but I was ready.
It only lasted a second before she locked her legs. Fire danced in her eyes, and all the softness fled in a blink. “He’s not taking me again. I want to learn to defend myself.”
“Misha will teach you self-defense. I’ll teach you how to shoot.” I made sure my voice didn’t carry to Luka. “We need to teach him to be wary of strangers. To hide and not come out if we say. And somehow, we need to do that without traumatizing him.”
Peyton nodded. “Turn it into a game. He already understands hide-and-seek. This will be an intense version of that.” She licked her lips. “Can we start today? If he’s back, we can’t risk waiting.”
I checked in silently with Misha and Viktor.
Viktor’s scowl put deep furrows in his cheeks. “I’ll take care of the office.”
“I want you and Misha in charge of hunting down the source of the rumors. If you’re not here, you’re taking care of that.” I took Peyton’s hand. “I want to promise that nothing will happen, but we’ve all learned not to deal in absolutes. The best we can do is train you.”
“Let’s do it.” She squeezed my fingers. “Can Misha go ahead and start working with Luka on hiding while Viktor takes care of the office and I practice?”
“Yes.” I didn’t care a bit that she took control of the moment.
I didn’t want to push them into anything they were not ready for, but we had to prepare for worst-case scenarios.
If Anton was alive, the fact that he’d come back now, a week after we found Peyton, meant he’d come for her.
We’d shamed him.
We’d blamed him and then we’d tried to kill him.
He’d had five years to work out his revenge, and we’d just handed him a powder keg of pain if he managed to get his hands on Peyton again.
If he knew about Luka, then we were in deep, deep shit.
We’d be prepared this time.
Misha approached Luka, kneeling to the boy’s level before he spoke. “Hey, Luka, you want to help me with something?”
“Yeah.” Luka leaped to his feet and danced around Misha. “What are we doing?”
“Your mom said you know how to play hide-and-seek.” Misha scooped Luka into his arms as he stood.
Luka threw an arm over Misha’s neck without missing a beat. “I do. I’m really good at it too. I find all the best hiding spots.”
“Oh? You know how I always get caught?” Misha met my eyes over Luka’s head, the determination in them easing the pressure building in my chest. “I talk too much.”
“Me too!” Luka giggled and rocked to the side. “I like to talk.”
Their voices melded together as they chatted on their way out of the room.
Peyton twisted her hands together, that same determination coming to rest in her as she turned my way. “Let’s do this. I refuse to go down without a fight.”
“This way.” I nodded my thanks to Viktor and led the way down the hallway, down the steps to the first floor, and into a room tucked away behind a locked door.
“We’ve always kept this door locked. I can set it up to unlock with your thumbprint.
That way, if you need in fast, you don’t have to waste time on a key. ”
“Okay.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath. “It’s been a long time since I handled a gun. Dad taught us to be respectful of them when I was little, but I haven’t shot one in years.”
“Maybe you’ll never have to pull the trigger in a high-action situation, but better to practice just in case.
” The thought of her having to defend herself put me on edge, but it was better this way.
I kept telling myself that as I unlocked the door and showed her inside.
“None of them are loaded. That’s something I need to consider changing. ”
“Luka knows not to touch anything. As long as they only had mags in and not a round in the chamber…” She paused.
“God, I hate that I’m saying this, but as long as they’re close enough to ready that I can grab, rack a round, and fire…
and the door stays locked where Luka absolutely cannot get inside, then it’s okay. ”
“All right. We’ll have to drive over to the firing range to practice, but before we do that, I want you to walk around.
Familiarize yourself with the space. Pick up the weapons and see which one you prefer.
We’ll take several with us. Just because it fits well in your hand doesn’t mean you’ll like it when you shoot. ”
She did as I instructed, picking up several of the smaller pistols before moving up to the Glocks and Sigs. She adjusted her grip on a Kimber, raising and lowering it several times. “This feels good.”
“Excellent choice.” I didn’t even try to hide my smile. “Ammunition is here.” I pulled out several drawers, walking her through the steps of loading and unloading the Kimber. “I’ve shot that one multiple times. It’s accurate, but we need to get you used to it.”
I packed up a bag of weapons and ammunition, texted Misha and Viktor that we’d be back in a bit, and drove the two of us to our private gun range.
We’d talked about building one onto the penthouse, but that had seemed excessive, even for us.
So we bought one instead.
I turned on the lights as we entered.
Peyton walked around the space, picking up a set of ear protection and clamping them down over her head.
Eye protection went on next, then once I was ready, she loaded the Kimber, took aim down the sight, and pulled the trigger.
The target on the other end of the alley fluttered from the assault.
Peyton started out slow, aiming and waiting a heartbeat before she fired. “Leo?”
“Yes?”
“How fast can I fire this gun?” Her chin quivered, but she pressed her lips together and reloaded.
I considered her, then the weapon. “As fast as you need to. Go ahead and practice. Take as much time as you need.” I pressed the button to bring the target closer, pointing out the holes in the neck and chest. “Is that where you were aiming?”
Her head twitched in a jerky nod. “Yes. I figured the heart was a good option.”
“Good.” I let the word settle, then pushed ahead. “But what if they’re wearing body armor?”
Peyton pressed a hand to her stomach. “You’re saying I need to aim for the head?”
“I’m saying never take anything for granted. That whole idiom of ‘aim small, miss small’ is entirely accurate. However, a spray and pray approach with hollow points will also get the point across in a very effective manner.” I should know.
“Okay.” All the hesitation vanished. “I’m not doing this because I want to kill anyone.
” She seemed to need to tell herself this, so I stood back and waited with my arms crossed.
Staring down the alley at the new target, her jaw firmed.
“I’m learning how to protect my life. And Luka’s life.
No one is going to hurt us if I have anything to say about it. ”
I smiled as her arm lifted.
She held the gun the way I’d shown her, using her weaker hand to support the weapon.
Turning slightly to the side, she braced and pulled the trigger.
Again. And again.
She squeezed off shot after shot until she’d emptied the mag and smoke curled from the barrel in a lazy spiral.
The target no longer had a head, and my smile grew wider. “You’re a natural.”
“I’m a mother.” But pride lit her face up, making her glow. “Don’t expect that to translate into hand-to-hand combat. My coordination is shit.”
I burst out laughing, and Peyton grinned. Seconds later, she bent double, putting the gun on the shelf and holding her ribs as she chuckled.
“This isn’t remotely funny.”
“I know.” I wiped tears from my eyes. “Stress laughter.” I motioned at the remaining weapons. “Pretty sure you’ve already found your favorite, but try a few more so you’ll know how they feel in your hand in case you need them.”
We spent another hour at the range before heading home.
Peyton remained quiet for most of the drive, her thoughts clear on her beautiful face.
Our connection was as strong as ever.
She was different now, more serious, with the weight of motherhood on her shoulders and a more worldly outlook.
But she was all the more beautiful for it. Her quiet ferocity, that innate instinct to protect her son no matter the cost, caused a swell of pride.
I also hated that this had bled over into her life.
She deserved for her darkest thought to be about what food we might eat off her body tonight, not whether she’d have to shoot someone in the head to protect herself.
“I will not let this be your life forever, Peyton. I respect your ability to protect yourself and Luka, but I will still do my damnedest to ensure you never have to use any of the skills we’re teaching you.”
“Thank you.” She stared straight ahead, but her lips twitched into a smile. “I appreciate that, Leo. And I’m glad you’re all willing to teach me.”
I loved her all the more for the incredible mother she’d become. We would not lose her again. Over my dead fucking body.
Misha and Luka met us in the foyer, both sitting in front of the kitchen island with their knees drawn to their chests.
Luka held up a finger to his lips when they entered, then looked up at Misha, who held up five fingers.
He lowered each one slowly, and when he closed his fist, Luka sprang up and ran for Peyton. “I did it! I found the best hiding spot EVER! Misha couldn’t find me at all. And I even stayed quiet the whole time. Misha said he’d get me ice cream. Any flavor I want.”
“Good job.” Peyton ruffled Luka’s hair. “What flavor are you getting?”
“Mocha.” Luka leaped into the air and spun in a circle.
Man, I loved this boy.
I barely knew him, but I loved him. Every second I spent in his company was a gift.
It didn’t matter which of us was his father by blood. “Are you allowed to tell your hiding spot, or are you keeping it a secret?” I lowered myself to a knee. “Was it hard to stay quiet?”
“It was at first, but Misha taught me a neat trick about singing to myself in my head, and that helped.” The quiet boy we’d first encountered bloomed overnight into this chatty boy who smiled at everyone and everything. He was Peyton’s son, our son. How could we not love him?
“That’s an excellent trick. I have one too. Would you like to learn? It’s like a secret code that I use when Misha and I play. And I stay hidden until he says the secret word.” I kept my smile in place despite my gut roiling with all that we needed to teach Luka.
He had zero sense of stranger danger. I loved that for him in any other situation, but as it stood now, he was more apt to run to Anton and hug him than to run away.
He trusted too easily and while I did not want to ruin that for him, his safety had become my priority.