Page 21 of Brutal Captivity

“That’s because you are. Now c'mon. It’s getting dark, and we’ve got shit to do.” Leo slaps me on the arm to get me moving. As we walk, Leo keeps a very close eye on me. I resist the urge to play with the tracker that is securely wrapped around my wrist, hidden under my sleeve. In this part of town, even if I did scream out for help, I doubt anyone would even bother paying attention. It would be useless. Even the police avoid it, only coming when they have to.

As we’re walking, Leo bumps into a man wearing a very expensive suit. My steps falter when Leo’s body is jolted back. “I’m so sorry! I was talking to my friend here and wasn’t even watching where I was going! My apologies!” Leo smiles brightly at the disgruntled man.

“Watch it next time,” the man growls, swerving around Leo to keep walking. He walks away, briefcase tight in his hand. He reminds me of the lawyers my father surrounds himself with. Stodgy and stuffy.

I have never wanted to be the kind of person that always wore expensive suits like they do. Yes, my clothes are expensive, but I wear them as a creative outlet. They are fun and carefree. There is nothing freeing about that suit. I have the urge to pull at my own collar, needing relief from the suffocating look of the man’s suit. I turn back toward Leo, a comment about the suit on the tip of my tongue but it dies quickly.

Leo holds a very expensive wallet, rummaging through its contents. “Where did that come from?” I look around in panic, bile rising in my throat. Leo takes a long draw from his cigarette, breathing the smoke out from the corner of his mouth, away from me.

“The clouds opened up and Jesus gave it to me from his holy hand while you were checking out Mr. Slick Stick-Up-The-Ass.” Sarcasm drips from every syllable of Leo’s answer.

“What? I wasn’t checking him out.” My brows draw together in annoyance. That man was so not my type. I don't even know what my type is since I haven't dated anyone in far too long, but I usually went for artists or photographers. Never a lawyer in a suit. I don't know why it bothers me so much that Leo thought the man was my type. “Wait. Forget that. Why does it matter if I was? Where did that come from?”

Leo rolls his eyes, the expression on his face somewhere between a smirk and a scowl. He tries to start walking again, but I hold him with a firm hand on his shoulder. We stand in the middle of the sidewalk, people veering around us, but I am undeterred. I stare at Leo, waiting. “God you’re so fucking annoying. Fine. I pinched it. You happy?”

“You what?” My brows dip in confusion.

“I stole it for fucks sake,” Leo hisses, and my eyes widen. I look around to see if anyone heard us. If they had, they are acting none the wiser.

“What the fu… frick?” I correct myself, almost allowing a curse word to slip. I will not lower myself to that level. I may be dressed like Leo, but I refuse to act or speak like him.

“God you’re such a tight assed little priss.” My mouth falls open in offense. I can’t believe I actually was starting to trust this criminal. This reminds me of who Leo really is. A common thief with no empathy for anyone but himself.

“He could need that money for something. He could have a family. He could be using it to buy his daughter a bike for her birthday!” I whisper-shout, disappointment lacing my tone.

“Oh please, Callisto. Don’t be so naive. He was probably on his way to pay a hooker to peg him while he snorts blow off some dude's dick. If he does have a family, he ignores them as much as possible and buys their love with presents. He’s not gonna miss the 253 bucks in cash that he had in his wallet. I didn’t think it would be worth it, and it barely was.”

Leo’s assumptions about the lawyer’s life hit a little too close to home for me, triggering memories of many nights eating dinner with no one but my nanny. My dad bought me extravagant gifts for my birthday but neither him nor my mom ever sat down with me to have a game night like a normal family. I shake my head, dislodging the thought.

“If it wasn’t worth it, then why did you do it?” I ask instead, curious.

“Because guys like that think they’re untouchable,” Leo answers, sticking the wallet into the inner pocket of his coat with a cold smile. “And because he’s paying for our dinner tonight. He can use it as a tax write-off.” Exactly how long has he been doing this? It happened so quickly, I didn’t even see his hand reach into the man’s breast pocket. I was watching the whole interaction and didn’t notice a thing. Leo’s a pro.

I shake my head as Leo sticks the wallet in the pocket of his army green jacket. When Leo realizes that I don't have more to say, we resume walking, I silently follow his steps. I still can’t believe I witnessed him picking some poor man’s pocket, but the things he said are racing through my mind.

I tend to think the best of people, especially if they are well-dressed and sophisticated, but what if he’s right? How many people have I labeled as ‘good’ when they were horrible, because they adorned themselves in nice clothes? How many of his dad’s lawyers cheated on their wives? How many of them handled dirty money? I have never asked myself these questions, but the possible answers are scary. How are those people any better than Leo and his friends?

I stay quiet as we walk a few more blocks, crossing the street twice. Leo glances between buildings as if looking for someone. Two men chat on the corner of the street, their bodies hidden in shadows from a nearby building.

One looks around, while he hands something to the taller one. The taller man glances down at the item, then they clap hands obviously exchanging money. That was a drug deal.Holy smokes, I witnessed a drug deal.I nudge Leo, but he doesn’t break stride. Great. We are blatantly walking into danger. Just perfect.

The taller man looks around, then walks off leaving the shorter one to shove his hand in his pocket, also glancing away from us. I gasp when Leo grabs the man by the shirt collar, pushing him in a darkened alleyway.

The man yells out in surprise, his body going with the momentum of Leo's as he is manhandled into the dark. I glance around, but no one is paying them any attention, so I follow Leo, ducking into the alley. I want to ask Leo what he thinks he is doing and to demand that he unhand the man, but Leo glares.

“Sully. How are ya buddy? Doing good? Uncle Peadar treating ya okay?” The man asks, his voice quivering almost as much as his limbs. He is about the same height as Leo, but Leo seems taller somehow, more menacing as he crowds closer to the man. I stand back, unable to do anything but watch. I don't want to get shot.

“Cut the small talk, Critter,” Leo growls, and my cock twitches in my too tight pants. Leo releases the man but keeps his body close. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What d'ya mean, Sully?” Critter stutters out, but even I can tell he knows exactly what Leo is referring to. I’m curious as well. I have never seen Leo look so angry, not even when he tackled me to the ground after trying to escape. His nostrils flare, and one hand is balled into a tight fist. His posture is stiff, threatening, and I am so glad I’m not Critter right now.

“You know exactly what I mean you twitchy little fuck nut.” Leo pushes Critter hard, the thud his back makes when it hits the concrete wall behind him is louder than I had expected. I try to stop my eyebrows from hitting my beanie at the colorful language, but I am a bit surprised by the creativity.

Critter pales even more, his body shaking like a small dog in a purse. I open my mouth to intervene, not wanting Leo to hurt the man. He may be a lowlife, but he is still human, right? Leo must read my mind because he shoots me a death glare, somehow keeping one eye on me and one eye on Critter.

“I really don’t. I swear. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Critter’s voice is breathy, and I’m not sure if it’s from fear or from Leo literally knocking the air out of his lungs. His breaths are coming out quickly, short and choppy,being released from his chapped lips in little huffs. I am somewhat concerned for his health, even though Leo seems to be feeling the opposite.

“You’re a bad fucking dealer and an ever worse liar.” The words are forced through Leo’s gritted teeth. I stay in character, nodding my head to what Leo said, acting like the criminal I am supposed to be.