Page 96 of Love Bleeds Red
“No,” Leon says. “Maybe. I don’t know. He’s a manipulative bastard. I don’t know what he had going through his head. Fuck. I wish I went after him. I should have?—”
The bedroom door bursts open and Falin storms in. She’s got her laptop clutched to her chest and an energy drink in her other hand. I don’t know her well but I can tell she’s pissed.
“Leon,” she says. “Is there anything you need to tell us?” She drops her laptop onto the bed and opens it. The screen shows a news headline—Massive house fire in Mayfair.
“Shit.” He gets up and walks to the window, turning his back on us.
“Let me read it to you.” She clears her throat and continues, “Fire crews responded to reports of a blaze at the Mayfair residence of diplomat Alfred Colter in the early hours of this morning. The fire, which authorities believe was deliberately set, caused significant damage to the property’s east wing, including what neighbors described as an extensive library and home office. While the main structure remains intact, smoke and water damage has affected much of the residence.” She looks up from the screen. “Buckle up because here’s the fun part. Investigators found evidence of accelerant throughout the damaged areas, and security footage from a neighboring property captured a lone motorcyclist leaving the scene shortly after the fire began.”
He’s gripping the windowsill, his shoulders tense, but he doesn’t turn around.
“Leon,” I breathe. It all makes sense. The smoky smell, the dirt on his face, the way he said he’d acted brash. “You set his house on fire.”
Falin continues reading, “The Metropolitan Police are treating this as a targeted arson attack and have launched a full investigation. Mr. Colter was not present at the residence during the incident and could not be reached for comment.” She closes the laptop with more force than necessary. “They’re looking for whoever did this.”
Leon turns to face us, his posture stiff. “He threatened you. He threatened all of us. I wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing.”
“You could have been killed,” I say, unable to control the shaking. “Or arrested. Leon, what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that he needed to know exactly what happens to people who hurt you. That I’m done with his bullshit.” His eyes are tight, lips curled. “I’m not afraid of him.”
Falin runs her hands through her hair, causing the black and platinum strands to fall messily around her face. “Dummy! Do you have any idea what this means? The attention this will bring?”
“It means I finally stood up to the bastard who’s been terrorizing people for years,” his tone loses some of the anger. “It means he knows I’m not the scared kid who ran away to America anymore.”
Falin puts her hands on his shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “Listen, I understand. Once I tell them,” she glances toward the door, “they’ll understand too, but fuck, that was reckless. We’re up shit creek without a paddle now.”
He breathes out, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I just… fuck. I had to do something.”
I stare at him, seeing the pain and desperation in his eyes. Knowing that what he did was terrible and stupid. He risked everything. Could have gotten caught or worse, and now we’re dealing with the aftermath. But something inside me also feels sick satisfaction knowing that Alfred’s precious study is charred to the ground. I hope he lost valuable pieces, things that meant a lot to him.
“What happens now?” I ask.
Falin’s expression softens as she turns to face me. “Now we figure out how to keep this dumbass from becoming a suspect while we decide what to do about... everything else. Fuck, I wish I had my craft supplies.”
“I’ll take care of everything,” Leon says. “Don’t freak out.”
“Says the man who freaks out over every single thing,” Falin retorts. “Good luck with that.”
He runs a hand through his hair.
“You should go get cleaned up,” I say, noticing even more smudges on his pants.
“Yeah,” Falin agrees. “And give me those fucking clothes so I can burn them.”
She walks out of the room, mumbling to herself. I realize there and then that I like her a lot.
“You can have the upstairs bathroom,” I say before I follow Falin out of the room. He looks like he needs a minute to gather his thoughts. I know I do too.
I head downstairs and into the small half bathroom, take care of business, once again feeling a mix of guilt and elation at being able to do something as simple as peeing without an audience or a time limit.
I find a brush on the counter and make work of the tangled mess that is my hair. Falling asleep with it wet didn’t help.
After a few minutes I feel so weak on my legs that I bring the brush out to the living room, where Falin is sitting, computer on her lap. Jasper’s slumped curled up in a ball asleep next to her. She glances away from the screen. “You need some help?”
I offer her a small smile but decline. “I’ve got it. It’s just gotten so long, it’s hard to deal with.”
“I can cut it for you.” She closes her screen. “I do my own hair all the time.”
