8
“I thought he was trying to cop a feel on Angie,” Jessica said later that night, as she and Leo were leaned side by side on Val’s balcony. After Angie and Roman left the lounge early, the party had quickly died down, and eventually ended at Val’s apartment. The Manhattan skyline winked at Jessica, and she frowned in return. “I’m… very passionate about women’s rights, and I get extremely angry when I see a woman being violated against her will.” Not her best lie, but good enough.
“Why are you so violent?” Leo asked, nudging her from the side while pushing his shirt up past his elbows. “And why do I love it so much?” After rolling up his sleeves, he rested his arms back on the railing, gripping a beer. His sizable forearms flexed.
Jessica’s eyes zoomed to that flex, and then she faced him, riveted. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”
He flexed again, making the sea of ink ripple along his arms and come to life.
“One or two,” he said. Having come to Roman’s party straight from work, he’d gotten rid of his suit jacket and tie, leaving him in black slacks and an untucked white button down. “You?”
“Tattoos?” She frowned. “Never. I hate needles.” She motioned to him with her wine glass. “Are they full sleeves?”
He held out one of his arms. “Yeah. Got my first one when I was fourteen. Been out of control ever since.”
“Fourteen?”
“Rome had a fake ID during a family trip to Puerto Rico.” He turned away from her and tugged down the back collar of his shirt. “We found a seedy parlor, and he signed for all of us.”
Jessica inspected the Chinese symbol tattooed on the back of Leo’s neck, and her stomach sank. She knew that tattoo well. It was the same tattoo that had been on the neck of the man who’d killed the Blacks in the streetlight footage she’d scrounged up for Angie. The footage that had spurred this entire investigation back to life. She knew all four of the Romanovsky brothers had that tattoo, which was the reason they had yet to arrest Val.
“What does it mean?” She already knew the answer.
He turned back to her, leaning on the railing. “It means brother. We got them thinking our parents would like the idea… you know, brotherly love and all that? Nope. Pop hit the ceiling. Almost castrated Rome. But it was too late, the damage was already done—to me at least. A tattoo fire was lit under my ass, and I never stopped. Ma still blames Rome for both sleeves,” he said, holding out his arms.
“You have so many I can’t even see your skin. You’re just a big hulking, fleshy canvas now.”
“Hulking, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “So Bette dislikes your tattoos?”
“Nah, she doesn’t dislike them. She hates them. She would slice off both my arms if it wouldn’t mean crippling me. How quickly she forgets that her own husband is covered in ink.”
“Is that why you had them covered up at Sunday dinner?”
“Ten years later, and Ma still flies off the handle if she even hears the word tattoo, so yes, I wear long sleeves to Sunday dinner. I can’t be the reason Ma has a heart attack at fifty. I’ll leave that to Val and Zoey.”
Jessica nodded.
“Let’s talk about you,” Leo insisted, motioning to her hunter-green midi dress and black heels.
“What about me?” she asked.
“Why don’t you ever smile?” He tilted his head at her with a mock frown.
“My smiles don’t come for free.”
His eyes lit up. “Jesus. It finally just hit me. It just hit me who you remind me of.”
She rolled her eyes. “Who?”
“That girl from the Addams Family. The one with the pigtails.”
Jessica’s mouth dropped.
“Remember that scene where she was at camp?” Leo’s smile broadened. “And all the camp kids thought she was a freak, so she smiled at them to try to fit in, but it only scared them even more?”
“You’re telling me my smile scares you?”
“I might be able to answer that question if I’d ever seen it. Getting a smile out of you is like pulling teeth.”
“I smile at you all the time.”
He nodded sharply. “False.”
Jessica smacked her lips.
“And on the, very rare, occasion you do smile at me, I can see that it pains you to do it. It’s like you’re in physical pain.”
“Like I said, my smiles don’t come free. And for the record, the bitches in that movie wished they measured up to Wednesday Addams’ stoic greatness. I'd kill to be as unbothered as Wednesday Addams.”
“Let me be the first to tell you, you’re well on your way.”
“She wasn’t smiling at those camp kids to fit in, by the way. She was smiling at them to fool them into trusting her. All part of her master plan to destroy them all. Of course they were too stupid to realize it.”
He tilted his head. “Is that what’s happening whenever you smile at me?” he whispered. “Is it all part of your master plan to destroy me?”
She cut her eyes at him.
“Allow me to save you some energy, Ashley, because I’m already destroyed. Been destroyed. Since the moment I laid eyes on you…”
Jessica’s heart froze.
One, two, three…
She jammed her eyes closed, holding her breath.
Four, five, six…
She inhaled when it started beating again.
Six fucking seconds.
That was a new record.
Leo’s eyes searched hers. “I made reservations for our date on Friday. A really nice little spot in Soho. The best food and drinks you’ll find in the city.”
“I can’t wait.” Jessica’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. She meant it.
“Val showed me some of your work this afternoon.” He set his beer on the edge of the balcony, trying to catch her eye. “It was sick. All of it. You’re an incredibly talented artist.”
Yes, the artist the station contracted out to throw together my bullshit portfolio is incredibly talented.
His eyes fell to her cleavage, but he forced them back up to hers.
“Can I take you home tonight?” he asked.
“You are truly a man who gets right to the point.”
“Only when I can’t see any value in waiting.”
“Well, I don’t go home with boys I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know about me?” He stood tall, ticking off on his fingers. “You know what kind of car I drive, I hit you with it. You know where my job is, I work there with you. You know my family is insane, you witnessed the madness firsthand…” He threw his arms out again. “If you don’t know me, Ashley Williams, I don’t know who does. Obviously I’m not some psycho killer… I’m just a normal guy who finds you very beautiful.” He motioned to her. “And would love to show you a nice time tonight...”
“We’ll see what happens this Friday night.”
When his mouth tried to tug itself into a smile, he fought it. He went to respond, but a thin pair of brown arms circled his waist from behind.
“Heeeey.” Zoey’s head popped out, catching Jessica’s eyes just as Leo turned and enveloped her in a hug.
“Hey, Zoey. I didn’t even hear you come outside.”
“I move in silence.” Zoey grinned. “Who the hell am I kidding? My stomach enters a room ten years before I do.”
“You’re an adorable pregnant woman,” Jessica said. “You have the tiniest little belly.”
Zoey raised an eyebrow, her eyes running over Jessica’s figure. “You wanna trade?”
“Negative. I’m never having kids.”
Zoey crossed the balcony and gripped her arms. “Hold on to that logic. It’s sound logic. Don’t let some hot guy in a beanie swoop in and steal that logic like I did. You’ll live to regret it.”
“Are we really going to stand here and pretend that I’m the one who seduced you, Zo?”
Jessica breathed in when Val appeared at the balcony doors, cradling his
own beer with a black beanie pulled back on his head. Jessica wondered if it was the same beanie he’d been wearing in the streetlight footage. He was lucky someone had taken his face off that tape, or she’d have arrested him right that second.
“Of course you seduced me.” Zoey beamed, wrapping an arm around Jessica’s waist as she kicked at Val. “I was just an innocent graphic designer trying to eat in Manhattan—”
“And then you tripped and fell on my dick?” Val held his arms out, fighting a smile, offering himself up for whatever blow he had coming from Zoey.
“You’re delusional,” Zoey cried, a smile threatening her lips.
“Pot,” Val motioned to one end of the balcony. “Kettle,” he motioned to the other. “Please meet.” He brought his hands together, eyes shining.
It was the most human Jessica had ever seen Val. He wasn’t smiling, Jessica was convinced he didn’t even know how, but as he teased Zoey, his eyes were alive with light.
For the first time, Jessica looked at Val and saw an actual human being with a sense of humor, a heart that produced warm blood, lungs that expelled air, a working pulse. Apparently, Val Romanovsky was not a robot, contrary to what she’d convinced herself was true. No, he was just a man who had everything to lose.
“Hey, can we stop talking about which one of you seduced who? And if we’re going to talk about it, can we please talk about it in a place where I’m not?” Leo looked pained as he motioned to the door of the balcony. “How about in there somewhere?”
Jessica grinned, accepting a hug and kiss on the cheek from Zoey.
“Congrats on the job, Ashley,” Zoey said.
“Hey, thanks for the reference.” Jessica watched as Zoey and Val disappeared back inside.
Leo shook his head once they were gone. “They have no idea how weird they are.”
“They strike me as the type of couple who enjoys the discomfort they harvest in others.”
“I think you might be right.”
“Hey… If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Zoey’s parents?”
Looking to the doors to make sure Zoey was out of earshot, Leo moved back to the balcony rail, leaning. They both faced the Manhattan lights.
Come on, Leo, give me something I can work with.
“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Leo said. “And she really doesn’t like knowing other people talked about it without her. So this is between us.”
Jessica nodded. Of course, she already knew what had happened to Zoey’s parents ten years ago, but she’d been looking for any reason to open a conversation about it with Leo. Now that she could feel him beginning to like her and appreciate her without having to stare at her tits to do it, she felt like it was safe to open that door.
“They were killed in a hit-and-run ten years ago,” Leo said, his eyes jumping along the skyline, from one building to the next. “Police never found the driver.”
“That’s terrible.” She did her best to sound shocked, hoping she was pulling it off. “Who could hit someone and just drive away?”
Leo’s head fell, and it seemed like he was done, so she jolted when he continued. “Zoey was only fourteen. She was just a kid, you know? She didn’t deserve the hand she got dealt.” He took a swig from his beer.
“What made Tony take her in?” Jessica asked, heart hammering as she felt the conversation closing in on what she really needed to know.
“He was good friends with her dad, Marcus, growing up. They made a pact to take care of each other’s families if anything ever happened.”
“Your father is an incredible man for taking Zoey in like that.”
“He didn’t give it a second thought. Marcus was like his brother. It’s like what we have with Zoey. If anything ever happened to her, knock on wood, I wouldn’t hesitate to take her kids in. Even if Val wasn’t the father, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second.”
Jessica’s heart shuddered to a stop.
One, two, three seconds passed. No beat.
She froze, alarmed.
After a long moment, it churned back to life.
She wondered when the day would come that it decided not to.
She wondered if she would deserve it.
“Regardless,” she breathed. “It’s expensive enough to raise four sons without adding a fifth mouth to the mix. Especially on a police officer’s salary.” She knew Tony hadn’t been a police officer on the night the Blacks were murdered, but a supervisor, just one step below the Chief of Police at the time, Victor King. She hoped Leo would correct her so she could push for more information.
But he went the other way. “Zoey isn’t a burden on us. We never looked at her that way. She’s fam. That’s it.”
Jessica nodded, disappointed that he hadn’t taken her bait.
“And my father wasn’t an officer. He’d have your head.” Leo smirked. “Calling him an officer back then would’ve been worse than telling him his dick was too small.”
“That’s right, my mistake,” she said. “I forgot he was the Chief at 5th.” By 5th, she meant 5th Precinct, the station Tony, Knox Jefferson and Governor King had all been working for the night Zoey’s parents were killed. The station where Val’s mug shot had suspiciously disappeared, along with his face on that streetlight footage. The moment the word 5th left her lips, she knew she’d said too much.
Leo’s eyes hit hers, shrouded in suspicion. “How did you know he worked at 5th?”
She faltered, kicking herself for her stupidity. “He must have said so at dinner last night.”
Leo shook his head. “No. He didn’t.”
“I must have read it somewhere, then. I did a lot of research on you guys, you know, to prepare for the interview.”
He studied her face, frowned, and then looked away, taking another sip of his beer.
Jessica exhaled. That had been close.
Leo swallowed the beer with a frown. “He was the Supervising Chief when Zoey first moved in. He wasn’t promoted to Head Chief until a little while later.”
A month later, to be exact. The same month Victor King retired from the station to accept his city council win, Tony had been promoted to Chief of Police.
Some would call it a coincidence, but Jessica didn’t know the meaning of that word. In her world, there were no coincidences. Only devious design, calculated intention, and great misfortune.
She felt sick as she looked to the balcony doors and found Zoey cuddled in Val’s arms on the living room couch.
Cuddled in the arms of the man who’d murdered her parents.
Zoey Black had no idea who she was in bed with.
But she would.
***
The white light beaming through Val’s floor-to-ceiling windows rose higher in the sky, and hours after midnight, the brothers were winding down. Champagne flutes and beer bottles were scattered on various surfaces across his ten million dollar penthouse. The brothers were scattered as well, limp limbs sprawled haphazardly across Val’s black U-shaped sectional, groaning their way through the rest of the alcohol.
Zoey, forcibly sober, was out cold on Val’s shoulder on the recliner. He cradled her head while sipping his glass of champagne, glassy eyes focused on the white crib in the corner of the room that was only halfway assembled. He occasionally pressed his nose into Zoey’s hair and breathed deep. Gary rambled on next to him, but Val wasn’t listening.
Alone in the kitchen, watching them all with frantic eyes, Jessica used one hand to pour herself a glass of wine while the other hand worked a hidden camera into the power outlet next to the sink. If she had both hands to work with, she could’ve done it in seconds, but she couldn’t risk drawing too much attention to herself.
She got the camera inside the outlet with wobbly fingers, just as Leo stood from the living room couch on shaky legs. She knew he was coming for her. With an annoyed huff, she screwed the outlet back into place and shoved the mini screwdriver in her bra just as Leo circled into the kitchen, hopping up on the count
er next to her.
“Oh hey, Wednesday.”
“Hi.” Jessica set the wine bottle down and picked up her full glass, facing him.
He grabbed the bottle and took a swig, setting it down before tugging the sleeve of her dress between his fingers.
“Why don’t you like me?” he asked, using his hold on her sleeve to swing her arm back and forth.
The action made her body swerve. “I do like you, Leo.”
He released her, looking down and clutching the counter. “You’re tolerating me.”
Jessica was disappointed that she wasn’t as good an actress as she’d imagined. She thought she’d been doing a great job pretending not to hate his guts.
Beer Belly Borgia.
Her jaw tightened. “If I hated you, if I was only tolerating you, why would I have come all the way down here from Westchester, and spent all night partying with your family?”
Leo held her eyes, then shrugged.
“You’re like a little boy in The Hulk’s body. Your looks have made it too easy for you. You’ve grown so used to women dropping their panties the moment you say the word that you don’t have the faintest clue how to recognize a lady who genuinely likes you, and just wants to get to know you.”
All bullshit. It took everything she had to stop her face from curling into a laugh.
“Okay…” Leo pushed himself deeper on the counter, holding his hands out. “What do you want to know about me?”
She set her glass down next to him. “Do you do drugs?”
“Wow.” He laughed. “Okay. No.”
She lifted a skeptical eyebrow.
“I don’t know…” He shrugged. “Weed makes my clothes stink, coke makes my stomach sick, and pills make me dizzy. I just don’t get it. But I do tend to find myself in the company of people who love to get high, and often. But I don’t.” He nodded at her. “You?”
“Drugs are stupid,” she answered.
He laughed. “Were you that kid? That kid in fifth grade who walked around with a DARE t-shirt on every other day and won all the ‘don’t do drugs’ essay contests?”
Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) Page 9