Page 86 of Executing Malice
Leila has always been as possessive and crazy as I am.
It’s how we fit.
“I’m not saying you did it, but the ... person you’re with—”
“Was with me the entire night,”Leila cuts in sharply.“I can give you detailed accounts of everythingwe did.”
“God, gross, no. I just need to talk to him.”
“No. Knock it off, Reed, or I’m telling Mom you’re being a jerk.”
“I’m doing my job!”non-brother snaps.“Breaking and entering in Jefferson is bad enough, but assault?”
“Then you should be out there, trying to find the person responsible. It wasn’t him. Do you think I would lie to you?”
Non-brother is silent for several minutes, but Leila must have won because I hear a frustrated huff.
“Now, can you please leave so I can get dressed and go to work before I lose my job?”
I don’t hear the rest of the conversation, but I don’t miss the clap of the front door shutting. There’s several seconds of silence before the thunder of feet. Leila bursts into the room, frazzled, eyes wide with dread.
“I’m late!”
Without missing a beat, I shove the clothes into her hands.
“Bathroom,” I tell her. “I’ll grab the rest of your stuff.”
She seems to process and accept in the same breath before spinning on her heels and bolting from the room. I hear the bathroom door close and the water run.
While she gets ready, I move through the house. I stuff the ladder back up into the crawl space. I empty the rest of the eggs into the trash and leave the dishes for me to do later in thesink. I return the living room back to its usual tidiness, clearing away her makeshift sleepover and folding up the blankets.
By the time Leila returns dressed and less panicked, I have her lunch made and I’m dressed with my helmet in hand.
“People will talk if we’re seen together,” she says when I tell her I’d get her to work on my bike. “Reed will hear and know it was you who hit Jasper and why I broke Felicity’s nose.”
I get her statement, but I don’t like it.
“You owe me a ride,” I tell her, hooking her middle with one arm and dragging her into my chest. “After work, I want you on my bike.”
My Leila smirks. “You’re very demanding.”
I let my features slip into a grin. “You like it.”
She doesn’t respond but lets me kiss her before we part ways.
She’s at work with a whole lineup of people crammed inside the bank when I roll up to my usual space. I park and cut the engine. My attention drifts over the faces, some calm and understanding, but others annoyed and hostile as they wait their turn. They don’t seem to like that the bank was opened late and whatever excuse Leila gave them isn’t cutting it.
I’m not worried about her losing her job. I know she’ll be upset and stressed. I know telling her I’d take care of her isn’t going to make her feel better, but I will even if I have to sign my entire bank account over in her name to prove it.
A conversation for another time.
I’m more concerned by the pinched lines around her mouth, the tightness in her smile as she’s cornered by those assholes giving her a hard time.
Not on my watch.
Freeing my head from the helmet, I toss my leg over the bike and stand on the sidewalk. My gaze never leaves the wall of glass overlooking Leila and the small mob trapped on the other side.
I know they won’t hurt her physically, but twenty against one isn’t a picnic either.
