Page 34 of A Little More Forgiveness

“So, unless I wanted to give up practicing law completely, I had to come back, tail between my legs, and ask for my stepfather’s help.” He took a large gulp of wine. “He got me set up with a few clients and an office in town.” He grimaced. “Apparently, having a lawyer in his pocket, who he can manipulate and use to put pressure on people for his own ends, is very profitable for his business.”

“You’re joking?” Gabe’s astonishment matched my own at Leo’s comment.

Leo cackled manically. “I wish I was, but…”

How could his own stepfather use him so callously after he’d stood up for his principles and refused to defend someone clearly guilty of his crime? I instantly dismissed that line of thought when I remembered exactly who his father was.

“He’s using me to help him gain lucrative contracts.”

Dread washed over me, pricking my skin. “What contracts, exactly?” I asked him.

“What?” Leo suddenly seemed nervous, his cheeks turning red, when he realized he’d given too much away.

“I asked what contracts. You’re here, representing me, so is Malcom Taylor expecting something from this?”

He swallowed, refusing to look me in the eye. “He wants you to sell,” he admitted.

“And if I don’t?”

“He’ll add my inability to close this sale to the long list of my failings and take great delight in informing me I’m still a huge disappointment to him.” He took another glug of wine, then opened his mouth but quickly clamped it shut again, leaving me wondering what else he may have been about to say, and why he’d decided to remain silent.

“So what? You aren’t here to act for me or negotiate in my best interests? You’re only here to pressure me into selling?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Initially, yes.”

“What the—”

“But not anymore,” he stated adamantly. “Not after today.”

I stopped abruptly. He meant after I told him about my wife. Whatever I’d intended to say got stuck in my throat, refusing to be voiced. I’d revealed things about Katie I’d never told anyone else, and if I hadn’t called him out on it, he would have purposely used those admissions against me, to prey on my weakness and manipulate me into taking Gabe’s offer. It felt like the rug had been pulled right out from under my feet, knowing he would have employed such underhand tactics when he should have been on my side.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He slammed his glass down on the table as he shot up, his hands balled into tight fists of rage, his entire body trembling. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry,” he cried. “To you, to Gabe, to every-fucking-one.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, grabbing onto the strands and pulling hard. “I’m just so frustrated all the damn time at being used and manipulated and backed into a corner. Of being so fucking sick to my stomach with nerves and fear. On edge all the fucking time in case I piss Malcolm off and he, he…” He whipped his hands down, slicing them rapidly through the air. “Enough,” he roared. “I’ve had enough. I-I can’t, I just can’t…” His shoulders slumped, his body hunching forward and folding in on itself as his anger deflated, and he quickly ran out of steam.

He was rapidly losing his composure, and it wouldn’t take much for him to have a complete meltdown. Despite how deeply he’d upset me, I pushed my own hurt and annoyance aside, stood, and went to him, enfolded him in my arms, and tried to offer him the comfort he so badly needed. He fought against me, trying to remain strong, but after a few moments he gave in and relaxed, his body shifting into my embrace, seeking solace.

It felt good to hold him, to feel the heat from his body, the sensation of warmth against me. What shocked me the most was how much I wanted him there. Emotions I’d ruthlessly held in check for years came rushing to the surface, along with the guilt at having them. The betrayal to Katie, of me wanting someone else’s touch, needing someone else’s touch.

Strong arms slid around my waist as Leo buried his face into my shoulder and any notions of guilt vanished, as a protective streak unlike anything I’d ever felt before swept over me. I squeezed him tighter, conscious of the fact that right then, I’d have fought anyone who tried to take him from me, ripped them to shreds if they so much as touched a hair on his head.

Another pair of hands wrapped around us as Gabe stepped up behind Leo and leaned into him, holding him between us, cocooned in our safety. Leo released a sob from deep in his chest, the sound of a wounded animal finally getting the shelter and help they so desperately needed to feel safe and secure.

I looked over Leo’s head at Gabe, whose unwavering gaze stared right back at me. In that moment the three of us were utterly connected, and those few precious seconds were the most profound I’d ever had. So right, so perfect, but I struggled to grasp the connotations of why, or what it meant.

We held Leo for the longest time as he worked through the frustration at his life. The fire had almost burned out when he eventually took in a deep fortifying breath, and we finally let him go. “God, could I be any more embarrassing,” he grumbled, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Very unlikely,” Gabe snarked, making him laugh, the sound brighter, no longer heavy and dark.

“Appreciate the honesty,” Leo quipped.

“You’re welcome, buddy.”

“Here.” I offered Leo the clean handkerchief I kept in my jeans pocket, a hangover from my childhood—the need to carry one having been drummed into me by my mother. He stared at the folded square a bit dubiously.

“It’s clean,” I protested.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“Hey, hey,” Gabe chided. “I think we’ve all apologized more than enough times the last couple of days, don’t you? So, no more, okay?” His gaze raised to mine, including me in his statement as well as Leo.

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