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I must be dreaming…
Leaning on a copper-colored Toyota Camry, is the balding man who taught me how to pick locks, understand morse code, and make fire.
Arnold Frick – my witness protection agent.
Leandro was right… those two buffoons led the authorities right to him.
His trench coat is horrifically untailored. In fact, he’s so plain-looking, no one would ever notice him.
But I do.
Chapter 13
Leandro
Donny’s lucky that he married my cousin, otherwise I’d be hunting him right now for disrespecting my space. Who the fuck does he think he is?
Attracting that kind of attention to my little town? Asshole.
I hit the steering wheel, making Alessia jump in her seat.
“Why are you so skittish? It’s not like you were in any sort of danger.” I glance at her.
“That’s kind of what scares the shit out of me,” she says.
I crack a smile at that. This woman is pretty good company, actually. And now that I’ve let the floodgates open, I keep picturing her shapely legs and perfect breasts hiding under those clothes.
Thoughts of Marissa purge those thoughts, however. They send a stabbing sensation into my gut to remind me that it’s sacrilege to veer away.
She perished because of me.
I let her down.
How dare I find pleasure when it’s my fault we’re separated?
I’m squeezing the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white.
“Are you okay?” Alessia asks, her back nearly plastered to the window in concern.
“Fighting urges, is all.”
It feels good to say it out loud. I don’t know why, but I’m comfortable spilling everything since she’s seen my shrine. There’s nothing really left to hide.
“What… type of urges? I’m sure Anabel would love for you to chase her in some skimpy clothing.”
I scoff. “It’s not like that.”
“What’s it like?”
I shake my head. “Not getting into this with you. You’d never understand.”
She tilts her head curiously. “Try me.”
Those words send blood rushing to my cock. Even her tone is sexy. Coy, in a wanting sort of way. It reminds me of my fantasies of her running through a fire, desperate for escape, and me fucking her while her palms are black with soot.
What’s wrong with me?
“Leandro?” Alessia’s brow is furrowed with concern.
