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I shake my head. “If you know who did it, why not...”
“Why not take my vengeance?” I nod, and he goes on, “Because I don’t like being wrong. There’s a chance—a very small chance, you understand—that I am wrong.”
I’m not fully convinced. He’s keeping something from me, for sure. But I understand where he’s coming from. “So,” I say slowly, “that’swhy you want me to get you a meeting with my father?”
“Yes.”
I think it over for a few moments, then finally nod. “Alright. If it’s information you want, he’ll give it to you—in exchange for some favors.”
“Let’s do it quickly, before our sniper tries again.”
“You think this shooter had something to do with your mom’s death?”
“My mother’smurder,” he corrects me, tone a little tight. “And I can’t be sure, but possibly. I’ve asked around lately, kicking over a few stones to see what’s under them. It could be that someone got tired of me asking questions.”
Night has fallen now, and Los Angeles is glowing neon before us. As we head back toward my bike, we walk side by side. Almost friendly. Julian pulls off the balaclava as we get close to my bike, roughing up his hair before combing it back with his fingers.
My own fingers itch to run through those soft golden strands. So different to my coarse, close-cropped black hair.
“You said you knew who did it,” I say. “Who was it?”
“I believe it was a high-ranked Castellani. No one else could have gotten into Redwood unseen.”
“Huh. Another reason you don’t mind turning on them?”
Julian’s nose crinkles as he gives a strange smile. “Yes,” he says at last. “Another reason.” He clears his throat and looks away. “Listen, I appreciate you looking after me last night, but I feel much better now.”
I don’t want him to go. I want to take him back to my place and talk more.Talkmore. Not fuck. Not fight. Just talk more, find out about this strange man and how he ticks. Because he’s finally opening up to me. Letting me see a little under that mask he wears.
And yeah, maybe after talking, we could go to bed. I can’t help staring at the long line of his body, the vulnerable curve of his neck. The lingering looks he gives me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. I want him again.
But I also want to talk.
“Maybe you’re feeling better,” I say to him. “But you’re still not good.”
“Leo,” he says softly, “if you want your father to be proud of you, you should be careful of me.” I don’t get it. But before I can ask him to explain, he backs away. “I need to get home,” he says. “I need to make sure Sandro’s not suspicious. Set up that meeting with your father, and then we’ll talk again.”
I can’t think of a good enough excuse to keep him here. But he’s right, anyway—Alessandro Castellani keeps him reined in, to hear tell, and even a 24-hour absence might raise suspicions. “Ain’t he busy with his mom?” I try.
Julian tucks the balaclava away in his pocket carefully before he says, “What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, man. I know she likes to lie low, but she’s got a meeting with my dad this week, so I know she’s in town. He wants her to quit blocking our business on the European side. Doesn’t make your Boss look all that good, either, by the way—getting his mommy to do his dirty work for him.”
A long, slow smile spreads over Julian’s face. “Oh,” he says. “I didn’t realize you knew she was here.”
I wonder what Julian’s relationship with her is like. Rumor is, she hates him. That’s why I try again. “So come home with me,” I say. “Have some fun.”
“Youarea lot of fun,” he agrees, with a shade of regret in his voice. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check.”
I let it drop. But when I go home alone, I can’t resist rubbing my face into the sheets where he lay only a few hours ago, where his scent lingers. I’ll have him here again, I swear to God. I want to fuck his brains out on this bed, break the damn thing pounding into it, make him call my name out when he’s coming.
But before I can do all that, I need to persuade my father to meet with him face-to-face.
And that’s going to be difficult.
CHAPTER21
JULIAN
