"Fair enough,” I say, trying to sound less interested than I am. It bothers me how relieved I feel about Leo’s confirmation there’s nothing going on between him and Damon. It shouldn’t make any difference to me either way. I don’twantit to matter.
Leo knocks on the table lightly with a fisted hand.
“My turn again to ask a question, yeah?”
I think about arguing, but Leo has got his stubborn face on. There’s no point in fighting him, especially when I don’t mind answering his questions. I’ve spent months being questioned extensively by interrogation agents and Green. Leo is being less invasive than they have been. Besides which, I’m used to everyone and their mother knowing my business at my previous employer. There were no secrets between me and OI.
"Alright,” I concede.
Whilst Leo rolls his head from side to side, considering what question to ask, I take the time to study him.
Leo is sitting up straight like a soldier despite the loose atmosphere of the fast-food restaurant. He has good posture, and I wonder absently if that was something trained into him. I’m caught again by the expressive nature of his body language, the way Leo’s emotions seem to explode across his features in a torrential overhaul.
Eventually, Leo pins me with another one of his thoughtful looks and asks, "Why haven’t you tried to run yet?"
I’m not ultimately surprised by the question, but I think my answer is destined to disappoint Leo.
“I have nowhere to go.” Which is true because I don’t. FISA, as much as I resent being beholden to the agency, really is my best option right now.
Leo is already frowning, not getting it. I wouldn’t expect him to. I wouldn’t expect anyone other than the Liquid Onyx survivors OI kept hold of to understand what it’s like to be transformed into a monster and then built into a weapon by an indifferent organisation.
“You could go anywhere, though,” Leo tries to argue. “Leave the country. Make a new life somewhere you can start over.”
“Okay. Correction. I have nowhere I want to go. And there would be no ‘starting over.’” I scoff at the very idea of such an impossible feat. “I’ve been trained all my life to destroy people. That isallI know.”
“But—”
Already sick of defending something I don’t even want to be true, I get up from the table instead of waiting to hear what ignorant bullshit Leo will try to throw at me.
Surely the one benefit of being a FISA agent now is that I don’t have to listen to anyone who isn’t a superior or stay in any place I’d rather leave.
Silver. Fucking. Lining.
Gotta love ’em.
I grab the bags of clothes we bought earlier because they’re mine and like hell am I giving up the first batch of shopping I got any choice over, and I make my grand, dramatic exit from McDonald’s.
It takes exactly seven seconds for Leo to fully compute what’s happened—which is a shocking reaction time that we will certainly have to work on fixing—and come dashing out after me.
I’m striding through the high street with purposeful, angry strides when Leo catches up. He hangs back a little at my side, a decidedly sheepish look on his face. There’s an apology brewing on his tongue, I can feel it.
I don’t want or need it, though.
“Shut up, Snow,” I bite out at him. Then at the mildly upset puppy eyes Leo utilises like a manipulative little weasel, I relent a bit. “I will forgive you for being a twat if you can be quiet for ten minutes. There, challenge issued.”
Leo looks like it physically pains him to swallow the apology back down his vocal cords. But he does it and even presses his lips together in a show of willingness to comply.
We keep in stride then as we move through the crowded traffic of afternoon shoppers. There are a few times when we get separated by people who walk between us. It gets annoying after a bit, so I reach out and grab hold of Leo’s arm, dragging him towards me with my superior strength and locking our arms together so we won’t lose track of one another again.
Leo looks the epitome of shocked for a single moment, his eyes darting down to our twined arms and then back up to my face. But then he smiles when I raise my eyebrows, daring him to speak and lose the challenge.
It feels absurdly confirming to have Leo pressed up against my side. I have the odd thought that it will make it far easier to protect him if he’s close, if I have hold of him.
I mentally give myself a slap. Leo isn’t some civilian who would need someone to watch over him in a dangerous situation, let alone just walking down the high street. Wherever this sudden protective streak came from, I wish it would pack its bag and piss off back there.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LEO
