Page 3 of Dangerous Obsession

“It’s not safe to go home, Willow. That guy picked you up from the gallery. If he didn’t die instantly, he’s already told his friends who you are and where to find you. IT will take them literally ten minutes to locate you and where you live. You are never going home.” Leo lays on his horn several more times and the man reaches out his window and flips him off, which only makes Leo honk more.

“It’s Reba now, first of all. And second of all, I can handle myself.” I cross my arms over my chest indignantly and glare at him as he comes to a full stop behind the man who tries to parallel park in a spot half the size needed for his car.

“Handle yourself?” he asks in a snarky voice. Then he laughs, a laugh that says he has no confidence in me whatsoever.

“I’ve taken self-defense courses. I own a small guy, pepper spray. I live in a secure building on the fifteenth floor. We have guards and people have to be buzzed in.” I don’t see what the problem is. I live in one of the largest cities in the country. I was raised here. I know how to handle myself.

“That guy was the mob, dumbass. His men don’t play by the rules. You’d be dead before you even had a shower. Now be quiet and let me think.”

I bite my tongue, though I want to go off on him. I have never encountered anyone involved in organized crime that I know of, though I did have my suspicions about Leo’s father for a time. He finally gets a break in the traffic and goes around the slow driver, but the freedom of movement in the car doesn’t make me feel any better about being trapped here with him. I moved on, put his face and the memory of our relationship in my past and I refuse to allow him to order me around now.

“We’re here,” he snaps as he pulls into a parking garage. He finds the first parking spot available and shuts off the car. “Now you need to do exactly what I say when I say it. You have no idea how much danger you’re in.”

“Because of you,” I spit, unbuckling my belt. “You interfered and you didn’t have to. I have pepper spray in my purse. I’d have protected myself.”

“Come off it, Willow. The man had your pants around your ankles before you even knew what was happening. You’re lucky I was there.” Leo climbs out of the car and I try my handle only to find it won’t open. I yank and yank, but until he opens it from the outside it doesn’t budge. Angrier now, I climb out and start across the garage away from him, but he catches up to me and grabs my elbow. “This way.”

I have no choice but to follow him to the elevator, where we rise to the third story and turn down a narrow hallway. Apartments like this are ridiculous. He probably pays three times what I pay and has half the square footage, not to mention how filthy things are. The carpet we walk on is sticky, the walls smudged with greasy handprints. But god does he smell good as I walk in the wake of his cloud of cologne. Just like I remember.

“In here.” Leo unlocks a door and pushes it in, glancing over my shoulder before following me through the door. He’s nervous too, probably that someone really did follow us. I don’t blame him. The way those guys were shooting, I was terrified. I was scared of him too, but he’s familiar, safe even. If I had stayed on the street or in that alley instead of coming with him, I’d be dead by now. I’m sure of it.

“What a crappy place.” I move farther into the room, clutching my bag to my side. Everything I see looks broken, run down, or filthy. The entire place isn’t any bigger than my living room. Ten by twelve maybe, with two doors on the left side of the studio unit. A metal-framed bed is tucked in one corner with a dresser squeezed between the foot of the bed and the opposite wall. A single window on the wall above the bed has a crack in the corner; it’s frosted too, so no chance for a view.

“You live here?” I ask, dropping my pale yellow bag on the leather couch. Just thinking of how dirty it will be when I pick it up makes me decide instantly I’ll probably have to buy a new bag. New clothes too. My smock might be light blue, but my white slacks aren’t going to stay white if I sit down here.

“It’s a safe house. Just be thankful you’re not on the street.” Leo shuts the door, but instead of a deadbolt inside, I see him take a key off his keychain and slide it into a lock on the inside. He’s locked us both in, but I can’t unlock it. That makes my body tense again, though I can feel the adrenaline surges slowing now that I’m safe.

“Safe house? What are you a cop?” That would make his father proud, I’m sure. He hates my father, Detective Tom Akers.

“Don’t worry about what I am.”

“This feels more like a prison than a safe house. You lock me in and keep the key? Say I can’t go home.” I lean against a counter situated along the wall. The cupboards are painted dark brown, probably to hide more dirt. The sink is stained with rust; it looks like rusty water will come out of the tap if I turn it on.

“Like I said, be thankful you’re safe.” Leo takes a chain off his neck and slips the key onto it, then puts it back on. It’s the first time I get a good look at him. He’s strong. The jacket he wears fits him nicely, stretched across broad shoulders. He was always good looking, but age hasn’t done anything but add a certain smolder. The silver at his temples is attractive, along with the salt in his beard. He’s forty-three now, or forty-four. I forget when his birthday is. God, why am I doing this to myself?

He drove me away, forced me to leave him alone “for my own good.” I never wanted the millions his father offered me. I wanted Leo. I was in love, and he ran a knife through my heart with his words. Let me tell you, five million dollars does not erase love, even when it pays for your entire future and helps you start your career as an artist easily. If Leo knew how many paintings I did of his face, his lips, the glimmer in his eyes when he’s happy…

“Look, I have to make a few calls. There’s no food here. We’ll need to order groceries and—”

“Food? Exactly how long are we staying here? I have a showing at the gallery tomorrow. I have to go home and shower. I have a coffee date with a friend and—”

“You’re not going home, Willow!” His explosive voice startles me. I back along the counter past the old ice-box style fridge until my hand finds a door. “It’s not safe. Okay? I will figure out what to do next.”

I jiggle the handle, and the door opens. It’s just a closet. I just want privacy before I start crying again. “I … Can I shower?” I ask him, moving to the next door. It has to be the bathroom. A safe house has to have a toilet, right?”

“Fine,” he snaps as he pulls out his cell phone. I manage to pry the door open. It feels like it is painted shut, but it’s just swollen in the humidity. At least the place has central air, or it would be sweltering here.

Inside the bathroom with the door shut, I slump onto the toilet and let the tears come. I dreamed of the day I’d see Leo again my whole life. Yeah, I put my feelings away, but I never stopped hoping. At times I knew I’d tear him to pieces, let him know how bad he hurt me by hurting him back. At other times, I believed I’d be swept off my feet, swoon and fall for him over again.

I never in a million years believed he’d be the one to save me from something so horrific as an assault in an alley. I can tell he wants to protect me, keep me away from those men who he fears will track me down, but this isn’t good. The only thing more dangerous than a couple of thugs on a street corner is breaking his father’s rules. Because it’s not just my life on the line. Alexsi threatened my father too, and if he knows I’m with Leo now, he will kill us both.

I’m damned if I stay, and damned if I leave.

What the hell do I do now?

3

LEO

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