Leo: A More Than Series Spin-Off

by McLean, Jay

  “There’s not a goddamn thing you could say to make any of this okay!”

  Laney winces at the loudness of my voice, the harshness of my words. I don’t care.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?!” I yell, looking around at my brothers. “This isn’t a fucking joke! This is my life. Benny’s my son, and Mia—” I pause, take a breath. “Mia is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and you’re ripping it apart. You’re tearing me away from anything and everything that’s ever meant something to me!” I scream, pointing at my chest. “Why the fuck can’t you just… just… shut the fuck up!”

  I start up the stairs to pack, stopping when I hear Logan call my name. He’s my Achilles heel, and he fucking knows it. I turn to him slowly, try to keep my anger in check. “What?” I spit.

  He’s gripping on to Aubrey’s hand, his knees bouncing, his free hand tapping at his pocket. Trigger. “I’m sorry, man,” he chokes out. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “We all are,” Lucas adds.

  “Yeah,” the twins say at the same time.

  I stand on the stairs, my chest rising and falling while I close my eyes, try not to lose my fucking mind. “I’m not the one who needs your apologies,” I grind out. When I open my eyes again, I look for Laney. “I need you to find me a rental. Three bedrooms. Big yard.”

  Dad speaks up. “You’re moving out?”

  “No,” I deadpan. “I’m moving the fuck on.” I continue up the stairs, mumbling, “And away from all of you.”

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Leo

  Forgotten,

  abandoned,

  discarded.

  It’s how I felt when I was fifteen, and Mia didn’t speak to me for six days. I’m on day sixteen now, and I’m trying really fucking hard not to feel the same way. It’s difficult, but I remind myself of what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. I go through the pictures of her and Benny, and I force myself to understand.

  When I was thirteen, I spoke to Mia—the photograph, before I spoke to Mia—the person. And now, at twenty-three, I do the same. I tell her about my days at the academy, about how I went out of my comfort zone and cooked a red sauce she’d be proud of. I cooked so much of it, I ate it for every meal for four days straight. One day, I’ll get the portions right. Or, hopefully, one day, I won’t have to adjust it, and it’ll be enough for the three us.

  I tell her how much I appreciate Tammy and her dad video calling me every night so I can talk to my son. So he can tell me all about his day, and I can tell him about the rocks I’ve found around the apartment and at the academy. I told him that I went to the farm on schedule to pour out the water and grit from the rock tumbler, and I showed him what they were.

  I tell fake Mia that when our son asked when he could see them in person, I didn’t know how to respond.

  I tell her about my plans. I can’t not work. I would have to pay back my wage from the six months of training, and that’s just not viable right now. I could wait it out and see if there’s a position for me in New York City, which I’m sure there will be, but I don’t want to do my field training there. I don’t think I’d survive it. I’ll get the right training here, and with my four days on, four days off schedule, I’ll have more time to fly up and see them. After a year, I’ll move. I don’t want to live in New York, but I will. For them.

  I tell her my secrets: that as much as I want to hate my family for what they did, I can’t. Because she taught me that hate is a one-sided emotion, and it’s a heavy burden I shouldn’t carry. I tell her that there’s only one thing in this world that I’m positive of, and that is that love exists, and it exists in many forms. My love for her and Benny hold more weight, more power. More passion. But the love I have for my siblings is visceral. It’s ingrained. And maybe that’s what I hate. But I don’t hate them.

  And then I tell her my fears: that one day I’m going to have to make a choice, and while I’m positive that I’ll choose her and Benny without a second thought, I’m afraid of the things I’ll leave behind when I do.

  All my siblings were at my graduation ceremony, along with my dad. I appreciated them being there, and I could tell how happy and proud they were of me, but I could barely look them in the eye. And while I don’t hate them, I’m so fucking disappointed.

  I’ve been home for four days now, and tomorrow, I start my first shift. Misty says that I’ll be riding along with an old-timer who’s set to retire within a year. He’ll show me the ropes and then all the paperwork that comes with it. I sit on the edge of the bed and look up at my uniform, a million different emotions swarming through me—and the most prevalent one is the one I try the hardest to ignore. My eyes drift shut as I grab my phone and pull up a picture of Mia and Benny. And then I swipe through the images, spending a few seconds on each one. When one pops up of Benny, Preston, and Katie on Halloween, I feel my chest tighten, feel the dull ache float through my veins. I open my mouth to speak, to tell Mia everything I’m feeling, like I’ve done so many times before, but it just—it doesn’t seem like enough anymore.

  This life is not enough anymore.

  Not since I’ve had a taste of what my life could be.

  Mia

  “I should just buy a private plane,” Dad mumbles.

  I glare at him from across the aisle of the commercial aircraft. “It’s literally a two-hour flight. You’re such a snob.”

  Dad scoffs, while Tammy shakes her head. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten one yet. You and your toys.”

  “Toys, huh?” Dad muses, looking up at the seatbelt sign. “I always considered it a business expense, but a new toy…” He rubs his hands together. “Come to Papa.”

  “I can’t!” Benny shouts, sitting forward to look past me and toward Dad. “I’m still buckled in, Papa!”

  Dad busts out a laugh, and I do the same, and I feel… lighter—the same way I’ve always felt whenever I come home. Home—as in North Carolina.

  I’ve spent two weeks holed up in the apartment in New York. The first week was what Krista, my psychologist, called intensive rehabilitation. I had to relearn and reconvince myself that everything inside me wasn’t ugly, filthy, and vile, and even though, deep down, I knew that, sometimes I needed a reminder, and that reminder was Benny. Besides, I grew him inside me, so there’s definitely beauty there. Beauty, bold, brave. That’s the way Benny sees me, and that’s the way I have to be. It’s not that I can’t have moments of weakness. It just means getting help for those weaknesses as soon as possible, which is exactly what I did. But I am the one who has to fight those demons—me and me alone. I’m the only one who lives inside my head. Inside my body.

  The following week was less intense, but I didn’t feel like getting out much. Tammy and Dad were around often, and they helped put Benny to bed at night, and I’d stand just outside his bedroom door, listening to him talk with his dad. They have their own inside jokes and stories, almost like their own language. For me, it’s not that I don’t want Leo or that leaving him there meant The End for us. I just... in my head—I needed to find a way to separate Leo from the rest of his family, which is hard. It would be for anyone. The last thing I want to do is make him choose between them and us. It’s a fear that’s been there even before Benny. It’s the reason why I hesitated to start anything with him in the first place. When we were at the hotel, we didn’t make any promises to each other. We didn’t discuss us and where we were going to go from there. All I knew was that I wanted him. I wanted him for Benny, and selfishly, I wanted him for me. I wanted our family. However I could have it. He held me in his arms for minutes that felt like seconds, and when I had to leave, he said three simple words that let me know he wanted the same. “This isn’t goodbye.”

  Once I felt somewhat like myself again, the only thing I wanted was to go home. I wanted to be close to Papa. It was the only thing I knew would truly heal me. So, Dad cleared his schedule and booked us all on the next available flight. As soon a
s we get to the farm, I’ll call Leo for the first time since I left, and I’ll allow myself to get lost in his voice. In his presence. Even if it’s three hours away.

  Baby steps.

  As soon as the seatbelt light switches off, Benny’s fiddling with the straps and the buckles trying to get out. The kid does not like being contained. He’s a free spirit, Tammy says, like Holden and me when we were kids. Some days when she watched us, she was afraid to blink because we’d be there once second, gone the next, on our own little adventures wherever our little legs could take us. Luckily we had all the open land our hearts desired.

  I release Benny from his seat, and he’s running toward his papa immediately. “I’m coming now!” While I wait for the cabin doors to open, I switch on my phone. Notification after notification goes off, filling the quiet with ding ding ding!

  “Jesus, is your apartment on fire or something?” Dad mumbles, looking over my shoulder.

  I wait for the alerts to stop pinging before I go through them. They’re all text messages. And they’re all from Leo.

  Leo: You don’t know this because we haven’t spoken, but it’s officially my first day tomorrow.

  Leo: This entire journey into law enforcement started my junior year. Remember? It was that note you left me that made me want to do this. I guess, in a way, I did it because I thought it’d make you proud of me.

  Leo: Stand for something or fall for everything, right?

  Leo: You’ve been there every step of the way, Mia. Maybe not physically, but… you know what I mean.

  Leo: And now it’s all over, and the real shit begins, and you’re not around. And I get it. I understand why you can’t be, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. Because I wish you were here.

  Leo: I’m not going to lie, I’m kind of freaking out right now.

  Leo: I don’t know why I am, but I am.

  Leo: I keep thinking about Benny.

  Leo: And how this job is so much more than a job to me.

  Leo: Like, I have a SON, and this world, this society we’re raising him in—it isn’t good enough for him. And I’m scared because I’m supposed to protect him from all the evil and injustice and abuse and the stuff with Logan.

  Leo: Jesus Christ.

  Leo: I don’t even know how I’m supposed to do all that when I couldn’t even protect you. And now I have to protect the world.

  Leo: And I think about Benny and how sweet and innocent he is, and I don’t want anything or anyone to take that innocence away from him.

  Leo: Now, I have to put on a uniform, and when I do, I become someone people rely on.

  Leo: Why did I want to do this? No one should rely on me. No one.

  Leo: I’m so fucking scared.

  Leo: I’m sorry to dump all this on you. I know you have so much going on.

  Leo: I’m so sorry.

  Leo: I wish you were here, Mia. That’s all.

  Leo: I wish you were here.

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Mia

  When we left the airport, the sun was just beginning to set. I grabbed a quick dinner for Benny and me on the road, and close to two hours later, I’m parking on the front lawn of the Preston house.

  After looking behind me to a sleeping Benny in the backseat of my rental, I inhale a calming breath, hoping it will give me the courage I need. Raising my chin, I knock on the door. For a long moment, no one answers. I knock again. On the other side, I hear thumping, like rushed footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Liam who answers, his twin right behind. They both share identical looks of shock when they see me, then glance at each other before coming back to me. “Mia.”

  “Liam.” I nod once, then look behind him to his brother. “Lincoln.”

  “How do you always get it right?” Liam asks.

  I point to my forehead. “Hairlines.” Why the hell are we talking about this? “Is Leo home?” I ask, trying to look beyond them and into the house.

  Lincoln’s shoulders lift with his shrug. “Probably.”

  “Well… can you get him?”

  “Wait,” Liam says, opening the door wider. “Leo doesn’t live here anymore.”

  Now I’m the shocked one. “He moved out?”

  Lincoln nods. “You didn’t know?”

  “Obviously,” I mumble, fishing my phone from my pocket and opening the navigation. “Can I have his new address?”

  For a long moment, no one speaks. I look up at them. Liam says, “We don’t know the address.”

  “But we can take you,” Lincoln adds in a rush.

  “I’d appreciate it.” I start back to my car, with them only a step behind.

  “You tell her.”

  “No, you.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Neither do I!”

  “Tell her.”

  I spin on my heels, almost knock into two separate brick walls. “Tell me what?”

  Liam blows out a breath and squares his shoulders as if he’s preparing for a battle. He might be, depending on what he says next. “Listen, about what happened…”

  I open my mouth to stop him, because right now, my focus is on Leo and nothing and no one else. But they’re both looking at me, waiting, probably expecting me to attack them. It’s the reminder of Dad’s words that halt me.

  A few days after we got back to New York, Dad sat me down, and he coaxed the details of that night out of me. I told him every painful truth and shared the burden of hatred with him. He just stared at me a moment, eyes scanning my features like Leo does. “You’re too good to carry hate in your heart, Mia, and that’s one of your best qualities and one that I’m the most grateful for. If you didn’t forgive me… if you didn’t give me a chance, then I wouldn’t know how big a heart lives inside you. I wouldn’t know my daughter. I wouldn’t know the amazing woman your papa raised you to be.” He looked down then, his lips pulled into to a frown. “People can change. And I hope that you see me as proof of that.”

  I let my shoulders relax, lower my defenses, and say to the twins, “Yeah…?”

  “Um…” Liam drops his gaze and rubs the back of his neck. “We just want you to know that it was us. Lucas and Logan didn’t have a lot to say.”

  “And this next part—it’s not an excuse,” Lincoln says, as if they’ve rehearsed this speech.

  “Linc and I—we’ve always had each other, but Lucas and Leo and Logan—it was always the three of them, and this is the first family thing we’d been included in, you know?”

  “It sounds so stupid, but it’s like…” Lincoln trails off, shrugging, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t know.”

  “We felt like we had a say—”

  “No,” Lincoln cuts in. “We were showing off to Luke and Logan, thinking if we said something they agreed with, then they’d think we were cool and include us in more shit.” He scoffs.

  “It wasn’t right.” They say in unison.

  I tilt my head, fascinated. How do they do that?

  Liam adds, after eyeing me curiously, “Even after the stuff with Logan, it was like we were kept in the shadows.” They both watch me expectantly.

  “I, uh…” I shake my head, fully aware that it’s not the first time Logan’s name has been mentioned in this way. And while I’m curious, I’m not going to push the issue. “I don’t know what happened with Logan.”

  “Oh.” They share another look. “We thought Leo might have told you.”

  Shrugging, I say, “It might not be his story to tell.”

  “Like your story isn’t ours to judge?” Lincoln murmurs, almost sheepishly.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Look,” Liam says, taking keys from his pocket. “We understand that we ruined… everything, but Leo doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s…” He huffs out a breath.

  Lincoln finishes the thought. “Don’t tell Lucas and Logan, but Leo’s always been our favorite. He’s always had time and patience with us, and we hate that he’s not talking to us.”

&n
bsp; My eyebrows rise. “He’s not?”

  “No.” They say at the same time.

  Lincoln adds, “We’ve tried to reach out. Even at his graduation, but it’s like… he’s checked out.”

  He’s rebooting, I want to say, but they won’t understand. “Can you take me to him?”

  The twins drive no more than ten minutes and turn onto a residential, tree-lined street, then slow in front of a cozy two-story house that reminds me of the one from Gilmore Girls. The siding is painted light blue with a wrap-around porch out front, and on that porch, on his knees, is Leo Preston. He stands when he sees both cars slowing. It’s dark out now, so I’m not sure if he’s able to make out who is in the vehicles. He starts down the porch steps, nodding toward the twins’ truck. They wave, and then speed away. I pull into the driveway and park next to his truck. He’s still standing just at the bottom of the steps, his eyes narrowed in confusion. When I get out, the first thing I notice is the smell of fresh paint. The second is Leo’s expression. First shock, then… curiosity. Before he can speak, I point to the backseat. “Benny’s asleep,” I tell him. “Can you carry him in?”

  Without a word, he makes quick work of taking our son out of his seat and carrying him toward the house. I follow him up the porch steps, stopping when I see what he’d been doing out here in the first place. On the floor, in pieces, is a porch swing. The chains from the roof are already in place. “You coming?” Leo whispers, holding the door open for me.

  I blink back the tears clinging to my lashes because I know what this is.

  It isn’t just a porch swing.

  He didn’t just paint the house a random color.

  This isn’t just a house.

  This is a home.

  “Yeah,” I breathe out. “I’m coming.”

  He leads the way up a set of stairs just past the entryway and into the second bedroom on the left. The only light comes from the hallway, so I can’t make out too much besides the bed and the covers as Leo slides them down to lay Benny on the mattress. He pulls the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead before joining me just outside the room. Carefully, quietly, he closes the door, wincing when it squeaks. “I have to work on the hinges,” he murmurs, and before I know what’s happening, his mouth crashes down on mine, his strong arm wrapped around my waist, holding me to him. And maybe this is what I needed to heal me, because his touch, the hardness of his body mixed with the tenderness of his kiss—it’s all I can think about. I get lost in it. So lost, I don’t even realize he’s moving us to another room. Another bed. He lays me down slowly, patiently, and then he’s on top of me and everywhere around me. And I know we should talk. We have so much to say. But then his hands drift up my sides, taking my top with them, and maybe this is his way of speaking. And my way of responding.