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“I wonder if losing a part of himself, at that age, made Leo determined to keep people at a distance. He is better at it than anyone I know,” Thanasi said, finally, and Mila understood, at last, the point he was making. It was a warning, and she heeded it.
“I’ve been in survival mode too,” she said simply. “I understand that sometimes we do whatever it takes to protect ourselves.”
“Even if it means sacrificing far too much?”
She contemplated that. She’d given up a lot for her career, a lot to achieve this one goal that now seemed strange to contemplate, that she found almost impossible to grasp in that moment, but she nodded regardless. “Even then.” The words were spoken with a conviction she didn’t entirely feel.
“There you are,”Leonidas’ voice broke through the night sky and Mila turned to him slowly, her mind spinning, whirring, cogs turning as she tried to slot Thanasi’s well-intentioned warning into what she already knew of Leonidas, and more importantly, to understand her feelings, which rioted in all directions. It was like trying to grab a bar of soap under bathwater. There was no clarity here, just opaque half-thoughts and slippery non-comprehensions.
“Here I am.”
He stopped walking, perhaps something in her tone unsettled him. “I’ve been looking for you.”
It was an unnecessary elucidation. She gestured to the seat he’d occupied at dinner, which she’d spent the better part of the hour staring at. “You found me.”
His considered her for several moments before speaking. “I have good news.”
She stayed perfectly still, every muscle in her body poised for what he was about to say.
He moved to the seat across from Mila, but didn’t sit down, rather he rested his palms on the back of the chair and stared across at her. “The police have someone in custody.”
It was the last thing Mila had expected him to say. She could no longer contain her response, but rather, began to shake from head to toe as months and months and months of worry and stress and of being hunted chipped away and she felt, for the first time, a true sense that maybe everything would be okay again.
“Who?”
She braced for that, too, certain, like Leonidas, that it was an inside job. Someone she knew and trusted. The idea made her gut twist and nausea rise.
“A fan,” he said, simply, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Do you know him?”
Leonidas opened an image and held it for Mila to see. She stared at the face—a kind face, a man perhaps in his thirties, with nice eyes and a smile in place. She shook her head, but then, something hovered in the back of her mind, something she couldn’t place. “I don’t. I don’t know. I might have taken a photo with him, after an event. He’s a little familiar to me, I think.” She furrowed her brow. “Is it important that I know him?”
“No, not at all,” Leonidas assured her. “Grieg tells me that in cases like this, stalkers can latch onto celebrities and obsess about them to the point they feel the connection is real, when of course, it isn’t.”
“But why?” She whispered.
“In a sick kind of way, he’s in love with you,” Leonidas said. “He’s become obsessed with wanting to meet you, certain that once you have met each other, you’ll love him too.”
“But the knife,” she shuddered. “The cable ties.”
“He’s sick,” Leonidas assured her, reaching over and catching her hand. “And he’s in custody now.”
“But what if he gets out? What if it’s not him?”
“Grieg’s certain. It’s him.”
“How does he know?” She couldn’t stop shaking.
“He’s a tech millionaire,” Leonidas said after a pause. “Operating out of a basement in LA. He first saw you perform years ago, but only started following you about eighteen months ago, after his wife left him. Because of his skills with technology, he’s been able to stalk you with no difficulty. He’s hacked into your skating team’s system, which has all your flight details, hotel information, everything. And yes, he’d made a copy of your phone, at least six months ago.”
“Oh my God,” she sucked in a breath. “So everything on my phone, he has access to?”
Leonidas nodded slowly, apology in the depths of his eyes.
“Photos, text messages, crappy games I play when I’m bored?”
“Yes,” he agreed softly.
“Oh my God.” She dropped her head forward, staring at her knees, barely registering the sound of movement until Leo came around to her and lifted her to standing, pulling her against him. He held her to his chest, held her strong and long and hard, his strength moving to her, his arms propping her up, and his words, sweet, deep, gruff Greek words, whispered into her ears and flooded her soul.
“It’s over,” he said, switching to English. “You’re safe. You can live your life again, little thief.”
