Chapter 12 | Leo
Leo
Islept better than I had in ages on Saturday night, probably because I’d finally made love to the woman who took up a considerable amount of room in my busy brain.
When I woke up on Sunday morning, I stretched, acknowledging that my muscles were sore as hell.
That’s what happened when you fucked the woman of your dreams against the wall as if you might never touch her again.
And holy hell, it had been worth it.
I relaxed from my stretch, closing my eyes and inhaling a deep breath. Katia’s scent was somehow embedded in my skin, and I never wanted to shower again. Unfortunately, I’d promised my dad I’d go to church with him this morning, so duty called.
After showering and getting dressed, I checked my phone to see if Katia had texted. There were no notifications, so I decided to break the ice.
Leo: Hey. Just making sure you’re okay this morning. Every muscle in my body is sore, and I’m absolutely okay with that.
Katia: LOL. I’m a bit sore too, but in a great way. I haven’t had that much exercise since I decided to try pilates. Spoiler alert: being with you was WAY better.
A stupid grin spread across my face as my fingers roved over my phone screen.
Leo: I hope so. I’m happy to be your workout of choice anytime.
She texted me a smiley face and I heard my dad pull up in my driveway.
Leo: Can I call you later? I’m old school and want to talk to you instead of texting. Is that lame? Dima would say I’m a lame old man, right?
Katia: Probably, but us old-timers could teach him a thing or two. Call me anytime today. I’ll just be doing some reconciliation for Michael’s car washes and laundromats. Thrilling stuff.
Leo: I’ll call you this afternoon.
Katia: Let me guess: you’re going to church.
I rolled my eyes at her teasing.
Leo: Yes, going with my dad. Add another notch to the “lame tally.”
Katia: I think it’s cute. My good little Catholic boy. Maybe you can save my infernal soul from damnation.
Leo: I think you’re doing just fine. Talk to you later.
Katia: Have fun with Jesus!
I chuckled, loving how effortlessly she teased me, and headed outside to meet Dad. I slid into the front seat and he smiled.
“Hey, son. How’s your weekend been so far?”
I tried not to smile like a lovesick idiot as I shrugged. “Pretty good. I, uh...there’s someone I’m kind of...seeing.”
Dad’s eyes grew wide as he shot me a quick glance. “Mildred’s daughter? She’s been trying to get you two together forever.”
Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “It’s someone from the city.” Gazing out the window, I debated how much to tell him. “I’m not sure you’d approve.”
He laughed and patted my thigh. “I think we’re both past the age where I have to approve of your girlfriends, Leo.”
“I know.” Dad had been an NYPD cop, and although he hadn’t informed for the mafia like I did, he’d worked with them in other ways.
He hadn’t blurred the lines as much as I did, but he’d taken advantage of their resources to help him when needed.
In return, he’d looked the other way when members of certain families were caught in minor infractions.
Still, he had a very distinct moral code, and I always tried to keep my dealings with the mafia separate from my relationship with him. If I started dating Katia exclusively, I’d have to break it to him that she worked for Michael eventually, so it was probably best to ease him into it now.
“Well, tell me about her.”
I rubbed my chin as I contemplated. “What if I told you that she used to be a stripper who worked her way up to an accountant.”
Dad’s features drew together. “Well, I guess we all start somewhere.”
I breathed a laugh. “What if she only has one client?”
He shot me a droll look. “Who’s the client?”
“Michael Caruso.”
His cheeks puffed as he exhaled a long, slow breath. “You never did anything halfway, son, I’ll give you that.”
“I know it’s a lot—”
“You have a good head on your shoulders,” he said, holding up a hand. “If you don’t have a problem with it, I don’t.”
My nostrils flared. “Honestly? I have a bit of a problem with it, but she’s.
..” Leaning my head back on the seat, I envisioned Katia’s face and her gorgeous lips as they curved when she teased me.
“She’s special, Dad. She’s smart as hell, and speaks three languages.
She’s obviously great at math and...” I lifted a shoulder.
“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Hands down.”
“Wow.” The word lingered in the air as he contemplated. “Sounds like you really like her.”
“I do,” I said softly.
“So, when can I meet her?”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Let me figure out what the hell we’re doing first, and then I’ll bring her around.”
“Fair enough, but I’d like some grandbabies before I’m too old to pick them up.”
My eyebrows drew together. I’d always loved the idea of kids, but since I was a workaholic with a terrible relationship history, it just hadn’t happened.
Did Katia want kids? I had no idea what she wanted in life.
Maybe I could ask her over sushi? Or was that too soon?
Lord, I was terrible at this. I functioned much better in my structured world of investigations and procedures.
I had no idea how to navigate this thing I’d entered into with Katia, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck it up before it began.
“Stop overthinking, Leo,” Dad said, driving into the church lot and parking in one of the empty spots. Facing me, he patted my upper arm in a supportive gesture. “Just follow your heart, and don’t let your head get in the way. You have a knack for doing that.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
We entered the church and enjoyed the service. I tried to spend time with Dad each weekend if I could. He’d never remarried after Mom, nor really dated a lot that I knew of. They had been soulmates in the truest sense of the word, and I figured his heart just wasn’t into finding someone else.
After the service, we swung by the local bar where all the cops, firemen and EMS workers hung out. It was one of my favorite places, especially when the Jets were paying on Sundays in the winter, and I caught myself wondering if Katia would like it.
The atmosphere was divey, but it also had a hometown bar feeling. Still, it was quite different from the flashy world of late-night dance clubs and house music. You were more likely to hear Billy Joel or Springsteen in my bar, and it was a reminder of the different worlds Katia and I inhabited.
“Bring my son one more beer before he thinks himself to death,” Dad called to the bartender as he sat beside me.
“Sorry, I’m not super-talkative today.”
Dad grinned. “Leo, if you were super-talkative, I’d call a damn doctor. You never got your mother’s or my gift of gab.”
I squinted one eye. “Am I grumpy?”
“Lord, yes, son,” he responded with a cackle. “But not everyone can be a damn comedian. You’re fine just the way you are.”
I took the fresh beer and focused on enjoying the rest of our day together. He was in his late seventies and had slowed down quite a bit over the past few years. I knew we wouldn’t have forever, and I always tried my best to cherish our time together.
Eventually, we settled up at the bar, and Dad dropped me off at my house.
I’d bought it years ago, and it was a small two-story, two-bedroom house that was my sanctuary.
It was an escape from the murders and mafia bosses I dealt with in the city, and I always loved returning to it at the end of each day.
Once inside, I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt before calling Katia. I opened one last beer and settled on the couch to call her.
It rang twice before she answered in a sultry voice. “Hello, agent. How was church?”
Chuckling, I told her about my day and spending time with Dad at the bar afterward.
“Ohhh, the bar sounds fun. Do they have darts?”
“They do,” I said, arching my eyebrows. “Do you play?”
“Better than you know, my friend. I’ll eat you for lunch.”
“Damn, I need to sign you up as my partner for the next tournament. I stopped playing years ago, but maybe you’ll make me reconsider.”
“I’m a shark. Sign me up anytime.”
A knock sounded in the background, and I could hear her shuffling around.
“I ordered delivery,” she said, her voice echoing a bit as she walked into her foyer. “Let me just grab it. I always tell them to leave it in my lobby, but sometimes they come to my door.”
The sounds of locks clicking traveled over the phone, and a feeling of unease washed over me. Time seemed to slow as I heard the jangle of the doorknob turning.
“Katia, did you check the peephole—?”
A loud thump sounded, followed by her sharp gasp.
“Katia??” I yelled, jerking to my feet.
“Don’t struggle, bitch,” a low-toned voice with a slight Russian accent said, and the phone made a clanking sound as it hit her hardwood floor.
“Let...me...go!” Katia grunted, the sounds of her struggle evident over the phone.
My heart threatened to pound out of my chest as I stood in my living room, helpless, as the woman I was obsessed with was being attacked.
“Katia!” I screamed.
“They’re Russian and they have a syringe, Leo!” she yelled.
Closing my eyes, I reveled in her quick thinking. She’d just given me valuable info: her attackers were most likely bratva, and they were going to inject her with something.
“I’ll find you!” I yelled, clenching my fist tight as the other held the phone.
She emitted a small groan, and then, the line went silent.
My brain kicked into overdrive, and I ran to my bedroom to grab my burner phone. Locating the number, I punched it with trembling fingers.
“You’re calling me, so it must be an emergency—”
“They took her, Michael,” I said. “The bratva took Katia.”
A brief moment of silence pulsed over the phone. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. They posed as her delivery driver and injected her with something.”
“Shit,” Michael hissed. “Joaquin and Enzo are surveilling Oskar. I’ll call them immediately.”
“I’m going to find her,” I said, putting the phone on speaker so I could start changing into street clothes. “I’ll go by her apartment and survey the scene. I might be able to get there before anyone reports it, and I can also see if her neighbors heard anything that might be helpful.”
“Good call. We don’t want one of the neighbors reporting this to the NYPD if we can avoid it.”
“Exactly,” I said. “It’s easier to keep this off the books so we’re not mired in paperwork and procedure.”
“I can meet you at her place.”
“Honestly? It’s probably best if you stay away from the scene. We’re trying to keep you both out of prison, remember?”
Michael sighed. “I can’t stand by and not take action—”
“I know, Michael, but we have to be smart. Let me survey the scene. I’ll take the burner phone with me and update you on everything. Can you have Joaquin call me? I want to ask him about Oskar’s movements over the past forty-eight hours.”
“Of course.” A tense moment of silence stretched over the phone. “Keep me updated. I’ll reach out to everyone in my syndicate to see where they might have possibly taken her, and I’ll put Alexis on it too.”
“Will do. I’m leaving my house now. I’ll reach out when I have an update.”
The phone went dark and I finished dressing. Rushing down the stairs, I jogged toward my car and hightailed it out of my quiet Long Island suburb toward Brooklyn.
Fear for Katia pulsed in my veins, but I also knew she was a smart, resilient woman who could handle those bastards.
“I’m coming, baby,” I whispered, accelerating on the highway as I drove under the star-filled sky. “Just hang on. I’m coming...”