Coming Up for Air Page 5

  “Don’t see a warrant on either of you,” Leigh said. “Fairly certain that means you can’t prove anything you just said.”

  “Yeah, well,” Perez huffed, coming to a stop in front of them beside his companion, “I heard the Morettis finally caught wise to all that thieving you been doing, turning over the extra cash to Sweeney.”

  Tolly weighed his options for protecting Leigh from this situation. Other mobsters he could fight. Police made things complicated.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective,” Leigh said. “I was just paying a friend a visit.”

  “Sweeney’s brat, right? Yeah, you’re just swimming in upstanding friends.” Perez’s eyes darted to Tolly. “Who’s he now? Another runner?”

  “I am here to protect Leigh from people who wish him harm,” Tolly said.

  Perez huffed once more and gave an unimpressed scan down Tolly’s body. “Some bodyguard you must be. Can you even throw a punch?”

  Leigh’s eyes betrayed his concern that Tolly would make the situation worse. He did not wish to worry Leigh, but he also could not let this behavior stand.

  “I would show you, Detective,” he said, “but then you might arrest me.”

  “Tolly,” Leigh snapped, just as Perez reared up, ready to seize him.

  “Hey! We’re just trying to keep the neighborhood safe,” the other man intervened, the “good cop” to Perez’s “bad,” in truth more than any game, because Tolly could read in his eyes that he did not share the same aggression.

  “You work together?” Tolly asked.

  “I’m Detective Horowitz,” the man said. “We’re partners.”

  “I see. I hope to be the same with Leigh someday.”

  “Not those kind of partners,” Leigh hissed at him.

  “What’s he tryin’ to say?” Perez glanced between them.

  “Are you not boyfriends as well?” Tolly smiled.

  Perez lunged at him, grabbing Tolly by the lapels of his borrowed jacket and lifting him off his feet. “Ya think yer bein’ funny, Slick?”

  “Hey, hey, hey.” Horowitz stepped in to intervene again, pulling his partner back and forcing him to release Tolly. “No need to get riled up. Hurley, you think about how you want all this to end someday. Sounds like things are heating up for you. I hope we don’t run into each other again.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Leigh said as Horowitz pulled Perez back to their car.

  “Next time we won’t be so friendly!” he warned, and moments later, they were back inside the vehicle, headed down the street.

  “Prick,” Leigh growled.

  “He means to keep the law,” Tolly said, understanding what detectives did. “He is merely angry that you are not on the same side. Perhaps in another life, you would have been friends.”

  “Doubtful,” Leigh said, then seemed to recognize the hint of smugness Tolly wore. “You goaded him on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “I am a fast learner,” Tolly said. “I am good at watching people. They have nothing to… pin you on.”

  “Pin on me. And you’re right—they got squat, but they keep trying anyway. If I end up in the clink again, I’m gonna be there awhile. Never did more than a few months so far.” Leigh turned back around to head down the street.

  Tolly followed. “Months locked away? For what?”

  “I told you, I’m a thief.”

  “No. For what benefit? Why? Is this truly the life you want?”

  Tension rippled up into Leigh’s shoulders, and he clenched his fists. “We gotta get off the streets. Come on.”

  They made quick work of the intersections they needed to cross, but eventually they ended up at that same shop packing up boxes. This time, Leigh paused and caught the attention of one of the men.

  “Don’t suppose you’re moving new inventory,” he said.

  “Hey there, Hurley. Nah. We’re moving to Bay Park, I’m afraid,” the young man said, stretching after loading another box into a truck. “Can’t make anything work in this part of town, worrying about hustles from Sweeney or the Morettis. Even with a little help.” He winked. “My ma can’t take it anymore, so we’re out. Bet this place’ll stay empty awhile. No one wants to buy a shop that’ll cost them three times as much in protection fees. Too bad too.” He glanced up at the place that obviously had great meaning to him, just like it seemed to have great meaning for Leigh. “No other electronics stores or repair shops around this neighborhood.”

  “Yeah,” Leigh said, “the docks are for the birds these days. Sorry to see you go.”

  There was a unique sort of ache in Leigh as he looked up at the shop, but he did not say anything more before continuing down the street. He was quiet the whole rest of the way until they reached the inside of his small apartment.

  “Leigh, please,” Tolly said after shoes and jackets had been shed and still Leigh had not said anything. “What does Arthur Sweeney wish for you to do?”

  Leigh remained facing away from him, looking toward his window and the fire escape as if longing for an exit. “To kill Vincent Moretti.”

  Chapter 4

  TOLLY FELT a cold chill race through him as though he were narrowly escaping the grasping claws of his brethren.

  “Kill Vincent Moretti? The older brother of the one who tried to kill you? But you are not a killer, Leigh.”

  “You don’t know what I am,” Leigh said with bite, remaining facing the window.

  “I know your heart.” Tolly moved slowly around him so as not to spook him. “That is what I feel through our connection. And what I feel is good and kind and resilient. You know my heart as well, so you know I speak the truth. If you do not believe me, tell me otherwise.” He took Leigh’s wrist, and while he felt him tense, he was able to lift his hand and place it over his heart.

  Tolly did not mean for Leigh to feel the rhythm as anyone could, but the truth deeper than flesh and blood, everything he was and longed to be, just as he could feel the same in Leigh.

  Leigh shook his head as if to dissent but stopped, eyes growing distant as he allowed himself to experience the connecting thread between them. To Tolly, there was much conflict and loneliness, Leigh’s exhaustion and desire for peace. Tolly assumed Leigh could feel something similar in turn, because Tolly, too, was tired and lonely.

  “There is much more goodness in you than in me,” Leigh said with a drop of his eyes.

  “That is not true. It does not have to be true. What did you do to these men? Stole, you said, but what and why? Are they so terrible that they deserve death?”

  “Cash,” Leigh said, snatching his hand away. “I stole cash, okay, which might as well be life and death to these people. I intercepted deposits after they made rounds of the local businesses to collect protection money. Then I gave some back to the shops and the rest to Sweeney. Only kept a little for myself.

  “For a good long while, I was a ghost. They never saw me, never knew who was behind it, never knew which drops I’d hit and which I’d ignore. But last night they were waiting for me.” Leigh’s eyes darted up as he said the words. “Last night they were waiting for me….”

  “Leigh?”

  “Alvin said word on the street was minimal, but the detectives knew, which means somebody talked. It wasn’t common knowledge, but someone knew something, and it’s too convenient for the answer to be Moretti men being smarter than usual.”

  Tolly tried to remember similar situations from stories he knew. “You have a… snitch?”

  Leigh snorted, which at least meant his standoffishness had loosened. “Couldn’t be any of the lower-tier runners. They’d be too scared of Sweeney. Has to be one of the inner circle. Not Alvin. Maybe he’d betray me for the right reasons, but never his father.”

  Tolly doubted that. Alvin was loyal and cared for Leigh deeply.

  “So that leaves Cary, Selene, Mark, Jake, or Rosa. Maybe more than one.”

  “Not Cary, I hope. Alvin is smitten.”

  “I know.” Le
igh rolled his eyes. “Which means we can’t trust his opinion. We don’t tell him about this, understand? He has trouble keeping his mouth shut, and it could be any one of those people.”

  Concern made Tolly press his lips together. “Killing Vincent Moretti will not be any easier if you have a traitor in your midst.”

  “I’m aware. But I still have to kill him if I want to stay alive myself. And yes”—Leigh stepped closer to Tolly as if to challenge him—“he is a bad enough man that he deserves it, just like his brother.”

  “Perhaps he does,” Tolly said solemnly, “but you still do not wish to be the type of man who kills.”

  “Tolly….”

  “I will help you, however, if that is what you want.”

  “You’re not helping me kill a man,” Leigh said.

  “Then I will help however you tell me to.” Tolly accepted Leigh for who and what he was. He hoped for Leigh to believe better of himself, but he would not try to change him if Leigh was set on this course.

  With distress bleeding into the cracks in his expression, Leigh looked ready to say something more, but a knock at the door interrupted, as was so common here. Leigh gestured for Tolly to be quiet and walked back to the door to peer through the spyglass.

  “Mrs. Johnston,” he said as he opened the door to reveal a woman a few years younger than Miss Maggie, holding an appliance in one hand and a pan of some sort of baked goods in the other. “Toaster acting up again?”

  Tolly wondered how Leigh had time to be a mobster when his neighbors came by so frequently. Mrs. Johnston was very sweet, however, and asked politely for Leigh’s assistance with her appliance. The pan was filled with brownies as payment, and after Leigh introduced Tolly as his roommate, he tried one of the treats while Leigh worked on the toaster.

  Brownies were even more delicious than bacon and eggs, sweet and melty like an explosion of decadence. Tolly must have betrayed his love for them, because after Mrs. Johnston left, fixed toaster in hand, Leigh said he could have another if he wanted.

  Tolly accepted the offer gratefully, but he was only halfway through eating it when he heard Leigh hiss at the kitchen sink.

  “Damn. Must have cut myself on something,” he said, turning on the faucet to rinse away the blood.

  Setting his unfinished brownie aside, Tolly rushed to grasp the wrist of Leigh’s injured hand.

  “Hey, what are you—”

  “I know it is only a small cut, but there are benefits to being merfolk when water is near.” Holding Leigh’s hand under the spray, Tolly kept his wrist in one hand and placed the other over the cut.

  There was the barest hint of illumination through Leigh’s veins, and then Tolly lifted his hand to show that the cut was gone.

  “How…?” Leigh marveled at Tolly’s magic. It must be so strange to live without any. There was a faint tug as though Leigh might pull away, but he looked at Tolly and seemed to decide against it. “There are so many strange things about you. Even how you talk. Why so formal all the time if you learned English watching movies?”

  “I did not. Merfolk learn languages differently from humans. Our magic allows us to comprehend whatever we wish. How I speak is a reflection of how my people communicate, simply translated into your words. Would you prefer I spoke more colloquially?”

  “No. It’s nice. I like the way you talk.”

  This close, Tolly could see Leigh’s eyes glitter, navy and bright blue combined, lips slightly parted and so inviting. Tolly wondered if Leigh had any idea that their kiss in the water had been his first. He meant it that he hoped more than anything that it would not be their last. It appeared another was imminent as they stared, Tolly’s thumb circling Leigh’s pulse point and the distance between their lips shrinking.

  The trill from Leigh’s pocket—his cell phone again—was a rude reminder that magic was not prominent in this world but technology was.

  Leigh pulled out of Tolly’s hold to answer it, and Alvin’s name blinked on the screen. “He must have plied his dad for details.” Slamming his hand down on the handle of the faucet to turn it off, Leigh answered with impatience. “If it’s not intel or good news, I don’t—” A sigh. “Yes. I’ll do what I have to. We all know this neighborhood would be better off without Vinny, even if his brother would just step up to take his place.”

  Tolly forgot his brownie as Leigh looked at him in apology and finally escaped the kitchen. He moved to the doorway to listen in.

  “Right now, I need you to be my eyes and ears. Talk is minimal on me being alive, right? Well make sure it stays that way. Who all knew the Morettis were after me and when did they figure out I was the one hitting their drops? That’s what we need to know so I can make a plan of attack.”

  Leigh was serious about pursuing this, and while Alvin did not seem pleased with the idea either, he was having no more luck than Tolly at convincing Leigh to give it up. When they finished talking, Leigh thanked Alvin and promised they would see each other soon.

  “I need a disguise,” he said after he hung up, “and I need to make a few rounds with the people in the neighborhood. I wish I knew whether someone was watching from the alley without sticking my head out there.” He nodded toward the fire escape.

  “Oh. That is a very good idea,” Tolly said, moving to the wall beside the window and placing his palms against it.

  The sound that erupted from him was not so much a cry like a whale might make but more a mystical pulse to see beyond the depths, which worked on dry land just as well. The ripple effect projected back to Tolly a general sense of the surroundings in the direction he faced, and he had an instant image in his mind of the building beyond, the alleyway, and in this case, the lack of people in it, though there were a few birds on the ground pecking at crumbs.

  “The alley is clear for now if you wish to exit this way,” he said, glancing back at Leigh, who stood in seeming awe once more. “I can check again when you are ready to leave so you can find a suitable disguise.”

  Leigh’s mouth opened, though no sound escaped, not until he closed it again and started over. “Sonar?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “How clear of a picture can you see when you do that?”

  “If there were people? Their number, and general height and weight.”

  A smile crept into Leigh’s expression. “That will be useful. Let me get ready so we can go.”

  We. Leigh would not try to leave Tolly behind. He was making progress.

  Tolly took it upon himself to finish his second brownie while Leigh changed. Leigh kept on his darker wardrobe but added a pair of glasses, a ball cap, and a hooded sweatshirt.

  “How Captain America of you,” Tolly said. He had managed to see all the recent Marvel movies and had especially enjoyed the one where Captain America hid by dressing that way. Stories of heroes and tales of great love always kept Tolly captivated.

  He hoped that was the sort of story he was in now.

  CAPTAIN AMERICA? Leigh didn’t mind Tolly’s taste in films, but he couldn’t live up to references to comic book characters.

  Not unless he was the villain.

  He was skulking about his own streets like a tourist, using Tolly to case shops before they went inside. He was protecting himself, sure, but also laying the groundwork for murder. There was no way he could feel good about this.

  The route Leigh took Tolly on was the same one the Morettis would make when collecting fees. Leigh lived right at the border of territories, and technically he was on the Moretti side until he crossed that last street to Sweeney’s club. The shop owners all knew him and who he worked for, so if one of them had given him up, it would be easy to suss out.

  Tolly was the decoy and it gave him his wish to explore the neighborhood, not that Leigh felt any less low about it. He would send Tolly in first to put the shopkeeps at ease with a new and friendly face. Then he would enter after and wait for the right moment to reveal himself. If any of these people had talked, they would be
startled to see him, but everyone seemed relieved. A few even laughed.

  “William,” said the surly old man who ran the corner store, “what are you playing dress up for? We got a problem brewing?”

  The shopkeeps knew the money Leigh slipped them from time to time was from the Morettis. Sweeney liked the Robin Hood act because it made the people love Leigh, and in turn love him, but people tended to talk, so he had to wonder if any of them had.

  “You’re with him?” the man said to Tolly. “You go ahead and take that soda on the house, son. William is good people.”

  The pit in Leigh’s stomach deepened to hear that, made worse by Tolly’s smile.

  The other businesses turned out much the same, from the mechanic shop to the little antique store barely holding on. Tolly was especially enamored there, hands skimming edges of old tables, pictures, and a collection of ancient VHS tapes. Leigh had to break it to him that he didn’t have a VCR to watch them on, but Tolly still enjoyed looking at them.

  The last stop was the record store, the closest to being in good shape since it skirted the line toward nicer streets and got good spillover traffic on occasion. A lone and very bored young woman covered in piercings and tattoos manned it today. Leigh had dealt with her before, not that she ever seemed fazed by having mobsters around.

  “I love this song,” Tolly said. Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life” played, probably because Trainspotting was on the TV behind the shopgirl’s head. “I love most music. Is this one from that film? I do not think I know it.”

  “I’m guessing you prefer happier tales, so stay away from Trainspotting and definitely stay away from Requiem for a Dream.”

  Tolly was only half listening, sifting through records and CDs as he hummed along to the song, his voice far sweeter than Iggy’s. It reminded Leigh of hearing Tolly sing under the water, though he wondered if he’d really heard him because he didn’t remember seeing Tolly’s lips move.

  When the song changed to David Bowie’s “Golden Years,” Tolly’s eyes closed, and his humming seemed to shift more than simply switching melodies. Leigh felt drawn in, as if only Tolly’s voice were singing, as if only Tolly existed in all the world, calling to him like a siren.