Page 24 of Mastered By Desire

“They aren’t part of a crime ring.” Dmitri laughs. “They’re just badasses.”

That’s whathethinks. Danica and I have all kinds of wild, melodramatic theories about their grandfather’s friends. Childish and romantic notions, some of them, especially after we found old photos of them looking young and tough.

I’ll never forget Danica’s reaction when we found a photo of four of them standing in front of a jazz club. We were twelve. She’d jabbed her thumb at one and asked Dmitri, “Who’sthathottie?”

Dmitri’s belly laugh had filled Danica’s room. “That’s Granddad.”

Danica threw the photo album like it was on fire. That night while Dmitri was at a party, she and I sneaked into his room and filled his backpack with plastic building blocks.

Dmitri raps his knuckles on my car’s hood, bringing me back to the present.

“This is a pretty douchey move on Mick’s part.” I pry my phone from my bag. “And I’m going to tell him so.”

Dmitri’s hand shoots out and he blocks my fingers from tapping my screen. “Don’t engage with him. We’re going to the police station to file a report for this harassment.”

“Psh, they aren’t going to care.”

“Leah, this is a threat. We need to document it.”

I’m tempted to blow off his concern. Not because I think he’s wrong, but because Iwishhe was wrong.

But then I remember how empty Mick’s eyes had looked. Like a frozen pond—cutting and dangerous.

“Yeah, fine, I’ll go to the station.” I tug my phone out of his reach to pull up the navigation app. “I don’t even know where it is.”

“I do,” he says. “You can follow me.”

“You’re going, too? You don’t have to do that.” There he goes again, being needlessly kind. Protective.

“You can’t seriously think I’d leave you to do this alone, do you? Fuck, Leah, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. Of course. Friends who fucked around. We should be putting distance between us, not going on adventures to the police station.

But I can’t deny I’m grateful for his help.

SEPD is surprisingly helpful. They even take photos of my car to add to their report, which is more than I expected them to do. I give them Mick’s name and phone number. They say they’ll send someone to talk to him.

By the time we’re finished, I only have fifteen minutes to get to the public library for my first tutoring session of the afternoon. Dmitri waits until I’m safely in my car before getting into his. He waves through the open window, his dirty blond hair spilling over his forehead and giving him a bad-boy look.

Nice try, hair. He’s a good guy.

Maybe too good.

Dmitri

I consider blowing off everything and following Leah around all day, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t like that.

Also, it’s my little cousin’s sixteenth birthday and my parents and sister would kill me if I missed the dinner. At least it’s at myaunts’ house in San Esteban. I won’t have to travel all the way to and from Fair Heights before starting work at ten p.m.

The family dinner is a nice splash of normalcy after the surreal past four days. My aunt Milana and her wife, Sylvia, live on the far side of Old Thirty-Three, pretty close to my grandfather. Their craftsman home is always filled with light and laughter that bounces off its carefully angled eaves.

Danica and I arrive at the same time, and Aunt Milana pulls us into a vanilla-scented hug. “Babies,” she murmurs. “You’re all grown up but you’re still our babies. Come in so we can fatten you up.”

The food is amazing. The feast is spread over a long, family table that has benches instead of chairs. Rachel wanted Japanese, so her moms had it catered. But Patrick and Granddad would’ve thrown a fit if Milana didn’t also make pelmeni, so we have chicken-filled dumplings as well.

I avoid Danica, brushing off her questions of how well Leah is settling in at my place.

And as usual, I avoid my grandfather. He doesn’t push the issue, but he does grab me in a hug and say, “I miss you, boy.”

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