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“In a sick kind of way, he’s in love with you,” Leonidas said. “He’s become obsessed with wanting to meet you, certain that once you have met each other, you’ll love him too.”
“But the knife,” she shuddered. “The cable ties.”
“He’s sick,” Leonidas assured her, reaching over and catching her hand. “And he’s in custody now.”
“But what if he gets out? What if it’s not him?”
“Grieg’s certain. It’s him.”
“How does he know?” She couldn’t stop shaking.
“He’s a tech millionaire,” Leonidas said after a pause. “Operating out of a basement in LA. He first saw you perform years ago, but only started following you about eighteen months ago, after his wife left him. Because of his skills with technology, he’s been able to stalk you with no difficulty. He’s hacked into your skating team’s system, which has all your flight details, hotel information, everything. And yes, he’d made a copy of your phone, at least six months ago.”
“Oh my God,” she sucked in a breath. “So everything on my phone, he has access to?”
Leonidas nodded slowly, apology in the depths of his eyes.
“Photos, text messages, crappy games I play when I’m bored?”
“Yes,” he agreed softly.
“Oh my God.” She dropped her head forward, staring at her knees, barely registering the sound of movement until Leo came around to her and lifted her to standing, pulling her against him. He held her to his chest, held her strong and long and hard, his strength moving to her, his arms propping her up, and his words, sweet, deep, gruff Greek words, whispered into her ears and flooded her soul.
“It’s over,” he said, switching to English. “You’re safe. You can live your life again, little thief.”
Chapter13
SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN GLAD.
Relieved. Thrilled.
Suddenly, after more than a year of looking over her shoulder, she could exhale. She could live again. But living meant leaving, and that reality lodged inside of her like a rock, so tears filled her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks. Far too many emotions were swirling through Mila. He was quiet, staring at her solicitously.
“You’re safe,” he said, and she nodded, but she didn’t feel it. Mila felt like a tiny piece of flotsam out on the wild currents of the ocean, trying to stay afloat whilst being thrown wildly about. Nothing made sense; she was discombobulated and uncertain.
“It’s really over,” she said, trying to grapple with that, swallowing past a knot in her throat.
“Yes.”
The word was an indictment. She bit down on her lip, trying to remember who she was before she’d met Leonidas. On that night, she’d have said she had two very simple desires in life: to be the best skater in the world, and to not be stalked. Well, the latter had been accomplished, which freed her up to pursue the former without impediment. Her ankle had healed; she was in every sense ready to go back to work.
Or she should have been.
But there was a sense in her belly that an invisible rubber band was holding her to Leo, that the further she pulled away from him, the harder the elastic might stretch and snap, so she pressed a hand to his chest and gasped, because the moment her fingertips connected with his flesh and she felt the beating of his heart, sheknew.Sheknewwhy the rubber band was tightening between them, why she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving, why she couldn’t even remember how she’d felt about her life before meeting Leo.
Shock had her pulling away from him, just enough to turn her back and stare towards the ocean. She couldn’t see it from this distance, but she could hear it, and she could smell it, the salty tang filling the air.
“I know it’s overwhelming…”
“Yes,” she whispered, because it was. Not her stalker having been apprehended, but the finality of that, of things with Leo, the certainty of what that meant for her now.
“I’m very grateful to you.” She closed her eyes, inhaling an unsteady breath, holding it in her lungs until it hurt, then exhaling slowly. “I never could have done this without you.”
He said nothing in response. They both knew the truth. It must have taken incredible resources to mount this operation.
“As I’ve said, I owed it to Benji. I was glad I could help.”
A sob threatened to overflow; she clamped her lips together, digging her fingernails into her palm. What had she wanted him to say? What did she need from him?
