“Good evening. How can I help you?” The meticulously styled hostess asks, eyeing Leon with interest.
“Petrovic.” Leon says, the hard roll of the r rumbling deep in my chest.
The hostess glances at me, scrunching her nose, and leads us to our table. Our table is a corner one, with plush maroon chairs and an uninterrupted view of the city. My eyes are probably sparkling as I stare at it, and Leon clears his throat to grab my attention.
“I wanted to give you another bouquet, but I was afraid it would suffer the same fate.” He bites the inside of his bottom lip, hidinga smirk.
“You were right to be afraid.” I shoot him a fake smile. “I don’t know what your game is here. But your apology is still not accepted.”
This time, he’s unable to hide his smirk. “That’s okay. This isn’t my apology.”
“What is it, then?” I cross my arms defiantly.
“I remember you talking about this being a place where you felt safe and I thought you could use some of that these days.”
My mouth parts on an ‘oh,’ my shoulders relaxing. He’s right. I’ve been on edge ever since I realized someone was following me, and even though I’m pretty sure I’m safe in Leon’s apartment, I still feel caged in.
Comfortable silence falls over us as Leon focuses on the menu in front of him. I have it memorized, so my gaze falls to my clothes again. What is it about him that makes me want to counter him? That makes me want to do the opposite of what he says?
There was a voice inside of me urging me to taunt him since we met, which led to plenty of passionate nights. But it’s still not a behavior typical of me.
Maybe before… before everything. But I was trained to create as little friction as possible in my relationship with Robbie, and I’ve done my best to avoid any conflict with the opposite gender after that.
Still, it’s like I can’t control it around Leon. Especially now, after he hurt me, I want to make him suffer. I want to counter his every word, his every action. The rational part of my brain knows that it’s not the smartest thing to taunt a person with unlimited access to weapons and money. He could destroy me in more ways than I could count. But the flicker inside my chest doesn’t care.
Because deep down, I know he wouldn’t hurt me.
My throat constricts as my thoughts get too heavy. Luckily, the server arrives to take our orders, snapping me out of it. I recite my order while Leon reads his, and when the server leaves, the comfortable silence becomes anything but.
Leon scans the surroundings before locking his gaze on mine. “I can see why you like the place.” I simply shrug, so he continues, “It’s stunning.” He takes a sip of water. “And so are you.”
I release a breath through my nose. “Oh, please. Look at me.” I motion to my getup.
His eyes trail my form appreciatively. “Like I said. Stunning.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as the tiniest shiver crawls down my spine. My nipples prickle, and I curse myself internally for not wearing a bra. The server brings us the drinks, and I take a hefty gulp of my wine, steeling myself for the rest of this night.
“Was New York the favorite city you’ve lived in?”
“Nope. It’s Vegas.” A hint of a smile appears on his lips, like he knows exactly why. “I guess it’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“Is he the reason you never went pro?” He doesn’t mention his name, but he doesn’t have to.
“Yeah,” I let out a nervous chuckle. “I needed to keep a low profile. Though I sometimes wished for him to find out.” I huff a laugh. “God, he would’ve been pissed.”
My joke falls on deaf ears. Leon’s expression is solemn as he stares at me with intensity. “He didn’t like you playing?”
“Something like that.” I take a sip of wine, and he doesn’t force me to say more. The server brings my plate with the juiciest-looking steak, and I stare at it as memories come rushing back and words start pouring out of me.
The first time he was violent with me, it was a small, almost unnoticeable thing. “He had his colleagues over for a poker night.” The knife cuts through the meat like butter, as my hands go through the automated motions. “I was the dutiful housewife, even though we still weren’t married, and served them chips and beers. It wasn’t too bad; I enjoyed watching them play.” I shrug, placing a bite of food onto my tongue. The silence stretches until I swallow, but he doesn’t break it. “I would study their games, watching from the sidelines. He would let me sit next to him, claiming I was his lucky charm. One day, after he lost a pretty big hand, a comment escaped my mouth.” I sense him growing tense,his energy turning darker. “He plastered on a fake smile, but clamped my thigh with his palm. To others, it looked like playful banter, but the table was hiding the way I flinched after his fingers dug into my flesh. It was also hiding the red marks left on my skin.” One more bite, and I swallow back tears. “It was when I learned he wanted me seen but not heard. He especially couldn’t stand my comments regarding poker, probably because he knew I was better than he was.” I don’t dare look up at him, focusing on my meal instead. The last thing I want is to see the pity in his eyes, making me feel weak all over again. “I should have left ages before I did. But he would threaten me, and I could hardly rely on the police protecting me, could I? Still, I should have left earlier.”
His fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping the robotic motions. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, I’m just saying…”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he repeats, his voice solemn. “He used his power and position in this rotten system, and the fact that you did get out is a testament to your strength and wits.”
My throat constricts as it gets harder and harder to keep my tears at bay. Rationally, the words he said are nothing new to me. My brain knows them. But my chest still swells hearing them. “I know that,” I whisper.
