Kingmakers, Year One

36. Anna

36

ANNA

T he party that takes place that night down on Moon Beach is the most epic of the school year. Almost every single Freshman is there, along with most of the Sophomores and even a good portion of the Juniors. The Seniors, of course, are entirely absent, furious that their final week at Kingmakers was marred by such a humiliating defeat.

Leo is laughing and telling the best parts of the story to anyone who wants to hear, which is a constant stream of students. He makes everything sound amusing and suspenseful, even the parts that were fucking awful, but I notice he’s leaving out one key detail.

He hasn’t told anyone that Dean tried to kill him. He admits that his regulator was torn off and that I had to dive down to help him. But he’s acting like it was an accident.

When I get the chance, I pull Leo aside and ask him, “What the hell are you doing?”

He smiles at me, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close against his body.

“What’s wrong, beautiful? You mad ‘cause I haven’t danced with you yet? Come on, I’ve still got plenty of energy. I’ll spin you around all night long . . .”

He’s pulling me toward the crowded mass of students dancing around the bonfire, already starting to sway me to the music.

“That’s not what I’m talking about—” I say, but he’s got his hands on my hips, his whole body pressed against mine, making me grind with him. Leo has such a smooth and enticing way of moving that I find myself putting my arms around his neck, dancing along with him before I even know what’s happening.

“There you go,” he growls in my ear, “isn’t that so much better?”

I laugh and nuzzle my face against his neck, breathing him in, feeling his warmth against my cheek. Leo’s heat radiates out of his whole body, flowing into me, warming me to my core.

“Now,” he says, “Ask me what you wanted to ask me.”

I say it to him quietly, right in his ear, so no one will hear over the noise of the music.

“Why haven’t you told anyone what Dean did?”

Leo looks down into my face. His eyes are glowing and alive from the reflected flames.

“You think that I should?”

“Of course you should! He tried to kill you—he probably will again!”

Leo frowns slightly. Not from anger—it’s something else.

“What?” I say.

“I just . . . feel bad.”

I stare at him like he’s lost his fucking mind.

“You feel bad for the person who tried to murder you?”

Leo gives a low laugh.

“I mean . . . yeah,” he says. “I kinda do.”

Just when I think Leo couldn’t possibly surprise me again.

“Pity is a dangerous emotion,” I tell him. “It won’t be reciprocated.”

“I know,” he says. “And I’m not saying we’re going to be friends or that I’ll lower my guard. But Anna . . . if I lost you, and he was the one dancing with you right now . . . I’d be so fucking devastated. I might have tried to kill him, too.”

“You still have to tell the Chancellor. You can’t just let this slide . . .”

“I won, Anna. I won you. That’s punishment enough.”

I don’t entirely like that answer. I’m afraid of what Dean might still try to do. If Leo thinks their grudge is over, I highly doubt Dean agrees.

Leo can tell I’m not convinced.

He wraps my hair around his hand and gently tugs to force me to look up into his eyes. He holds me pinned in place, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other hand cradling the back of my neck. He turns the full intensity of his gaze on me.

“Anna,” he says. “He’s not a threat to me. No one is. When I have you, I’m fucking invincible.”

All Leo’s power and determination burns in those golden eyes. His face is terrifying in its beauty. His body thrums with strength. I can’t do anything but believe in him when he’s like this.

“Alright,” I say. “I trust you.”

Leo gives me a wicked grin. “I don’t know. I think you need a little more persuading . . .”

He takes my hand and pulls me back through the crush of students, over the uneven sand. He takes me all the way off the beach.

For a second I think he’s going to lead me into the trees where everyone likes to sneak off and hook up. I pull up short, feeling an irrational aversion to the place where I saw him with Gemma Rossi not so long ago.

“Not in there,” I say.

“Of course not,” Leo agrees.

Instead he takes me back up the path away from Moon Beach, all the way to the fields on higher ground. It’s a warm night—the grass is tall and fragrant, sprinkled with patches of pale blue wildflowers. The breeze makes a soft whispering sound all around us.

Only when we’re far away from anything else does Leo lay me down in the grass and gently removes all my clothes.

I’ve never been completely naked in the outdoors like this—not since we were little kids skinny dipping. Strangely it brings me back to that time when I had no fear or shame, when Leo and I seemed like one person, having never been apart.

I’ve loved him through every stage of our lives. And I love him most today—I’m amazed at the man he’s becoming. Overcoming his weaknesses. Amplifying his strengths.

“You’re a goddess,” Leo says, looking down at my nude body glowing in the moonlight.

He lifts my foot in his hands, that he’s just stripped of shoe and sock. He presses his thumb into the arch of my foot, massaging me. I groan from how good it feels.

Leo kisses my foot, then he runs his tongue from my heel, all the way along the instep up to my toes.

“Don’t!” I laugh, trying to pull my foot away, but he’s got it locked tight in his grip, and he’s looking down at me with that hunger, that fire, that I know means he’s about to do something kinky to me.

“You think I care about licking your foot?” he says. “I’ll run my tongue over every fucking inch of this body.”

To prove it, he starts sucking on my toes.

I give a little shriek from how strange that feels—I’ve never had my toes in someone’s mouth. It makes me shiver and squirm. But there’s also something erotic about Leo’s warm lips and tongue on such a sensitive part of my body, and something even more sexy in the proof of how rabid he is for me. Nothing about me could disgust him. He wants all of me.

Leo starts licking and biting and kissing his way up my leg, up the calf to my inner thigh. Now I can hardly stand it, I want him to go higher still. His mouth feels indescribably good and I want that tongue on my pussy, I fucking need it. I’m spreading my legs, begging him to give me relief.

Leo’s teasing me, getting closer but torturously slow.

“Please . . .” I moan.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me . . .”

Leo buries his face in my pussy, licking me everywhere I want. He uses his fingers and tongue like a maestro, playing me like an instrument. He shoves my thighs wide open and thrusts his tongue inside of me, fucking me with it, making me scream out loud from how good it feels. I grind my pussy against his face, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me, sudden and hard.

I could cry. That’s how powerful it is—it makes me want to sob like a baby.

But there’s no time for that. Because Leo is already climbing on top of me, freeing his cock from his trousers with one hand, gripping the back of my neck with the other so he can kiss me ferociously.

I can taste myself in his mouth and I love it. I love all parts of us mixing and combining.

I’m longing for him to shove his cock inside me, I’m waiting for it, but it still takes me by surprise. It does every time. He thrusts into me and the sensation is brutal, intense, and right on the edge of pleasure and pain—as powerful and acute as it can possibly be.

Leo feels enormous on top of me. He blocks out the moon and stars overhead, he envelops me in his warmth and his scent. I can feel his strength as his muscles flex with every thrust.

I can’t get enough of him.

I’m obsessed.

“This is the best thing,” I gasp. “It’s better than dancing.”

Leo laughs. He wraps me up tight in his arms and fucks me even harder. “Like that?” he growls. “You like that?”

“I fucking love it.”

He squeezes me so hard that I can’t move. He fucks me so deep that I can’t feel anything else. I love the way he takes me over, the way he draws this pleasure out of me.

I can feel another climax building and I don’t have to do anything to make it happen. I couldn’t make it stop if I wanted to.

“You ready?” Leo groans.

“Yes. Yes . . .”

We come together, me tipping over the edge first, Leo following right after so we’re both crying out together, both clinging to each other, both clenching and squeezing each other as hard as we can.

Then we’re laying together in the trampled grass, and I realize how silent it is without our heavy breath and the blood pounding in my ears. It feels like Leo and I are the only two people in the world.

The next morning we have to pack our bags. The ship is coming to take us all back to Dubrovnik.

Chay is wondering how the hell she’s going to fit all her stuff back in her suitcase.

“How did you get it in there in the first place?” I ask her.

“I don’t know! For one thing I didn’t have this blanket, but I want to keep it. Fuck it, I’ll just throw away my uniforms and buy new ones in the fall.”

“I should do that anyway,” I say, examining the skirts and blouses that have become increasingly distressed over the course of the school year. The hem of my green plaid skirt is nothing but ragged threads.

I definitely have to throw away my ballet slippers—they’re beat to shit from dancing on the rough stone of the cathedral. I have more at home.

I can’t believe I’m going to see my house again, and my parents and brother and sister.

I still haven’t warned them that I’m dating Leo. I don’t know if it’s cowardice or if I really think they’ll take it better in person.

I’m hoping they’ll understand that Leo and I were meant for each other from the beginning. But I’m afraid that they won’t be able to shake off the taboo of falling in love with someone you were raised with as family. Mafia families can be so stubbornly traditional. Our cousins are treated as close relatives, whether linked by blood or not.

“If you folded your clothes, they’d fit better,” Zoe says to Chay from her perch on the end of my bed. She’s watching us pack, having already filled her suitcase and spotlessly cleaned her tiny room.

“You could fold them for me . . .” Chay bats her eyelashes at Zoe.

Zoe gives her a stern look, but stands up from the bed to come over and help.

“Thank you, love,” Chay says, putting her arm around Zoe’s waist and laying her head on her shoulder.

Zoe sighs, her expression unhappy. Unlike Chay and me, there’s no anticipation for Zoe in the journey home.

“You should come visit me in Berlin,” Chay says, sympathetically. “Come see me over the summer.”

“I don’t know if my parents will allow that,” Zoe sighs. “I expect they’ll want to spend the full three months pressuring me to drop out of school and marry Rocco sooner.”

I say, “You’re not going to do that, are you?”

“Absolutely not.” Zoe shakes her head. “No matter what they say.”

It’s not what they’ll say that I’m worried about . . . it’s what they might do.

“Come on,” Chay coaxes. “I bet Anna will come visit me too.”

“Sure,” I nod. “Leo would love that trip.”

“If you’re gonna bring Leo, you better bring a hot guy for me,” Chay smiles mischievously. “What about that cousin of yours . . . you think Miles would fancy a trip to Germany?”

Zoe gives a haughty sniff.

“What?” I laugh. “You don’t like Miles?”

“Not particularly,” Zoe says.

“Why not?”

“No offense, but I find him arrogant and reckless. I can’t understand anyone who gets into trouble deliberately. He thinks everything’s a game, like there’s no real consequences.”

“I’m not offended,” I shrug. “That’s accurate.”

“He’s funny, though,” Chay counters. “And pretty fucking sexy.”

Zoe shakes her head silently, not impressed by those particular qualities.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind giving him a try.” Chay says. “Before he gets himself expelled.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” I tell Chay. “No promises, though. Miles listens to me about as much as he listens to anyone else. Which is zero.”

“No worries.” Chay shrugs. “I’ve got a few options at home waiting for me.” She grins, picturing these friends with benefits that she hasn’t fucked in almost a year. “It’s like a cute dress you forgot about way in the back of your closet… good as new again.”

I laugh. “I’m excited for you.”

I finish packing my own suitcase—not as neatly as Zoe, but with more room to spare than Chay.

That done, I haul it downstairs so I can leave it with the wagons that have pulled into the bailey, ready to carry both us and our luggage back down to the harbor.

As I throw my suitcase onto the pile of waiting bags, I hear a heavy thud right next to me. I turn to find Dean dropping off his own bag.

We haven’t spoken since the night he fought with Leo. And I haven’t seen him since the day of the final challenge.

We straighten up slowly, staring at each other. I can feel my blood rushing with pure, unadulterated fury.

It’s hard to tell what Dean is thinking. His shoulders are hunched and his eyes narrowed almost to slits. His face looks pale and tight.

“I know what you did,” I say, quietly. “I have proof. I’ve got the regulator you cut.”

“You have a broken regulator?” Dean says, coolly. “What does that prove, exactly?”

“Stay away from us,” I hiss at him. “If I decide to kill someone . . . I’ll actually succeed.”

Dean just laughs.

“It’s you who will come find me again, Anna. Once you realize what a mistake you made.”

“I’d rather swim back to Dubrovnik.”

“Maybe you’ll get your chance,” Dean says, softly. “Watch your step on that ship . . .”

I turn and stalk away from him, feeling irritated and unsatisfied. He’s right—the regulator is flimsy evidence. It’s mine and Leo’s word against his. And I’m sure he’s got some asshole friend who would provide him with a fake alibi.

I head into the dining hall so I can grab a quick lunch before it’s time to board the ship. The meal is simpler than usual—bacon sandwiches, fresh fruit, and unpasteurized milk. No other options. That suits me fine—the bacon cured on the island is the most delicious I’ve ever tasted.

I take two sandwiches and sit down with Matteo and Paulie to eat. Hedeon plops down next to us a moment later, his plate piled high with food. He’s not a big fan of Matteo or Paulie, but apparently he likes us better than eating alone.

“Excited to get back?” he says to me, mouth full of an enormous bite of sandwich. He ignores Matteo and Paulie.

“Yes,” I say.

I’m not really thinking about heading home—I’m remembering the night I visited Leo in the infirmary. When I saw Hedeon sneaking down to the Undercroft.

“Did you ever meet up with that girl after the second challenge?” I ask, casually. “The Accountant?”

“Yeah, I did,” Hedeon replies, smoothly. “She was quite the wildcat, too. Don’t be fooled by those shy little Accountants—they like the kinkiest shit.”

It’s so odd watching him lie. If I didn’t know what I’d seen, I’d be completely fooled. His expression is as calm and confident as ever, he answers without hesitation.

I press just a little further. “I thought I saw you later that night, going down in the Undercroft.”

Now I spot it—an infinitesimal twitch at the corner of his right eye. But his smile only widens.

“Must be some other tall, dark, and handsome guy,” he says. “I’ve never been down there.”

“Ah,” I say, as if I believe him. “It was pretty dark.”

Hedeon changes the subject to our final grades, a topic on which Matteo and Paulie can’t resist chiming in.

The whole exchange is over in a matter of seconds.

I haven’t clarified what Hedeon was up to. But I have discovered something interesting . . .

He’s a practiced liar. And he’s hiding something.

As we climb up into the wagons, there’s an air of nervous excitement and also a strange kind of regret. Kingmakers was our home for almost a year. Isolated as we were on the island, it feels strange to leave.

Plenty of students are doing a last-minute exchange of numbers, which we have to scribble down on paper since we don’t have our cell phones back yet.

We ride down to the harbor where the ship waits, much larger than any of the fishing boats moored next to it.

“I forgot how big it was,” Leo says. He’s sitting next to me on the bench seat, his arm loosely draped behind me to protect my back from the jolting of the wagon.

Ares sits across from us, looking up at the ship with a strange expression. I thought he’d be excited to see his family again. Instead he looks almost as if he’s dreading it.

Noticing the same thing, Leo says, “You gonna come see us in Chicago?”

“I’d like to,” Ares says. “But I’ll be working over the summer.”

“I’ve got a fuck-ton of air miles . . .” Leo says, trying to indicate that he’d pay for the flight without embarrassing Ares.

“Thanks,” Ares says, noncommittally. “I’ll miss you guys.”

“Well, don’t miss us yet,” Leo says. “You still have to tolerate a long voyage back to civilization with us.”

By the time we board the ship, the main deck is already packed with students. Unlike the voyage over, we’re all going home on the same day. The net strung between the masts is already full of raucous Juniors, and there’s barely a place to lean, let alone sit down. We end up jammed in the bow with a bunch of Freshman Spies.

Everyone is talking over their plans for the upcoming summer. I hear Shannon Kelly tell her friend Jean Hamilton that she plans to stopover in Spain before going home to Dublin. I had a Contracts class with Shannon first semester, but we don’t cross paths much being in separate divisions. Plus she’s best friends with Gemma Rossi, who I don’t hold a grudge against, but prefer to avoid.

Throwing her mane of curls back over her shoulder, Shannon spots me standing behind her and gives me a strangely guilty look.

“Hope there won’t be so many people seasick on the way back,” I say to her. “We can’t all fit along the rail.”

“If anybody pukes on me, I’m throwing ‘em over,” Shannon says. She hesitates, then leaves her friend, drawing closer to me instead. She glances over at Leo, engrossed in his conversation with Ares.

“So you’re with Leo now, are ya?”

“Yes,” I say. “I am.”

She nods, chewing on her lower lip.

I can tell she has something on her mind. My father always told me that the best interrogation method is silence. If you want to hear what someone has to say, then shut your fucking mouth.

So I just look at her, calmly and quietly.

“I didn’t want to say anything . . . when you were with Dean . . .” she says, her voice low so it won’t carry beyond the two of us.

I stay silent, waiting.

“I don’t even know if I even saw anything . . .”

She takes a deep breath, tucking her hair back behind her ears. This is a useless maneuver, since the curls spring free again immediately.

“You remember the night we had that party down on Moon Beach,” she says. “The first party we had down there . . .”

“Yes,” I reply, in a neutral tone.

“Well . . . I was standing there talking to Gemma. She had a bit of a thing for Leo and he had just been named Captain, so she was wondering if she should go congratulate him. Then Dean came up to us, which was sort of weird, ‘cause he never talks to us. He had two drinks with him. And he passed one to Gemma, just one. And he told her she should give it to Leo.”

I swallow, my throat making a clicking sound.

“Did she?” I say. “Did she give it to him?”

“Yeah,” Shannon nods. “Leo drank it. Then a little while after, Gemma said he seemed really fucked up . . .” she trails off. “I didn’t want to get in the middle of it. Gemma’s my best friend. She didn’t mean any harm. I thought it wasn’t my business, especially once you started dating Dean. But now that you’re with Leo . . .”

“Thanks for telling me,” I say, faintly.

“No problem,” Shannon says, her cheeks flushed pink. She turns away quickly and rejoins her friend.

The ship is pulling away from shore, heading out into open water. The deck rocks gently with the waves. I feel like I’m reeling far more than the motion of the boat would cause. I feel like I might fall right over.

I forgave Leo for that night. But now a much more sinister possibility is striking me: the idea that Leo might not have required forgiveness at all. The idea that he might have been drugged.

Drugged by Dean.

Shannon’s story has the ring of truth to it. It’s more sensical than what I thought happened. After all, it was unlike Leo to get out of control drunk, especially so quickly. If I hadn’t been emotional and upset, if I’d actually analyzed the situation, I might have realized the truth. Instead, I lost my temper. And Dean was right there to capitalize on that moment.

I want to find him and rip his fucking face off.

I’m already scanning the deck, searching for a glimpse of his white-blond head.

I must look crazed, because right as I spot Dean on the opposite end of the ship and I start rushing forward to confront him, Leo steps in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To stab that motherfucker,” I snarl.

“Who?” Leo says, bemused.

“Dean, of course!”

“What happened?” Leo says, trying to pull me aside to calm me down.

I give him a brief and painful recitation of what Shannon told me, my throat constricted with guilt. I’m realizing more and more by the minute that Leo was a victim, that it wasn’t his fault. Which means that everything that happened between us is my fault instead.

I’m so ashamed that I can barely get the last few words out. My face is flaming and I can’t look Leo in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Leo wraps his arms around me and pulls me hard against his chest. He’s squeezing me with all his strength. I can feel his body shaking slightly.

“I’m so relieved,” he says.

“What?” I pull back from him just a little so I can look up at his face.

“I’m relieved,” Leo repeats. “I can’t tell you what a weight that is off my mind.”

“Aren’t you angry?”

“Yeah of course I’m fuckin’ mad—that devious little shit. But Anna, I thought I made the biggest mistake of my life that night. And I still did! ‘Cause I should have kissed you the moment I had you alone on that walk down to the beach. I should have never let you out of my sight at the party. I should have told you what you meant to me way before any of that even happened. But at least I didn’t fuck around with Gemma on purpose. I couldn’t stand that I did that. I couldn’t stand the pain I caused you.”

I’m looking up at him in total disbelief.

“You’re not mad at me, Leo?”

“God, no,” he says, kissing me quickly. We’re still on Kingmakers property, and we’re not supposed to show open affection.

I say, “I don’t understand how you can let things go so easily.”

I’m a grudge holder. When someone’s wronged me, I never forget. It eats at me if I don’t do anything about it.

“Everything that ever happened to me before today brought me to this point,” Leo says. “Right here, right now, with you in my arms. I wouldn’t change anything. Because I’d never risk not being here with you.”

I can’t help laughing.

“I think you might be becoming a Buddhist,” I say to Leo. “You’re shockingly zen.”

“Yeah,” Leo growls, raising an eyebrow at me. “Unless someone fucks with my baby . . .”

The flight home with Leo is the most blissful experience of my life. I’m thirty thousand feet up in the air, floating over the clouds, cuddled up in the arms of the man I love.

We’re so exhausted from the school year that we sleep almost the entire time, only waking when the flight attendants bring us snacks and drinks.

Miles is on the same plane as us from Dubrovnik to Vienna, but then he takes a different exchange, planning to stop in Los Angeles before coming back to Chicago.

“What’s in Los Angeles?” Leo asks, curiously.

“So many things,” Miles says. He loves being mysterious.

“Are you meeting someone?” I ask him.

Miles holds up his phone. “I have to play a song for a guy. Just one song.”

“Why don’t you just send it to him?” Leo asks.

“It’s called striking while the iron’s hot,” Miles says. “Deals get done face-to-face, while emotions are high.”

“Well, make sure you tell your parents,” I remind him. “I don’t want to see you mom waiting at the airport for you all sad.”

“I already told them,” Miles assures us. “And I’m gonna bring my mom home some pumpkin bread from the Monastery of Angels, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about her. She’d much rather have that than me.”

Leo and I finally touch down in Chicago in late afternoon, knowing that both our fathers will be there to meet us.

We haven’t discussed how we’ll make our announcement. We were too sleepy and happy to stress about it on the way back.

In the end, we do the thing that feels most natural—we walk out of baggage claim hand in hand, as if we’ve always been lovers.

My father and Leo’s father are standing right next to each other, forming an amusing study in contrast—Uncle Seb in a linen sport coat, deeply tanned, with threads of gray at his temples and a stylish pair of dark-framed glasses perched on his nose. He’s relaxed and happy as he leans on his walking stick. Next to him my father appears more fair and pale than ever, wearing dark clothes with no hint of summer in them, scanning the crowd keenly for any sight of us. He holds his hands clasped loosely in front of him, his tattooed skin like patterned gloves.

When they spot Leo and me—and the way we lean against each other as we walk, our fingers intertwined—their reactions are equally opposite.

Uncle Seb’s mouth falls open. He appears confused for a moment, then he breaks into a slow grin that brightens to pure delight.

By contrast, my father comprehends in an instant, and his expression becomes rigid and furious, eyes burning in his blanched face.

“Anna,” he says, through thin lips. “What is the meaning of this?”

I take a deep breath, holding my chin high. This is the crucial moment. I can’t show a hint of weakness, or my father will tear me to shreds.

“Leo and I are in love,” I say, calmly. “And we’re going to be together.”

Uncle Seb wisely stays silent, understanding my father well enough to know that this needs to sink in.

“Leo is your cousin,” my father says, in his most chilling tone.

“Papa,” I reply, looking into those eyes that are as cold and blue as my own. “You know as well as I do that while we can choose our family, we cannot choose who we love.”

There is a long silence, in which Leo’s fingers grip mine with an intensity that tells me he’s not ever letting go, no matter what happens next.

Leo tells my father, quietly but firmly, “No one will love her better than I can. No one will cherish and protect her as I will.”

There’s a terrifying intermission that feels like two heavily weighted scales teetering back and forth. A breath of air in the wrong direction could send it tumbling down.

Uncle Seb is brave enough to break it. He says, gently and sincerely, “Come now, Miko. Where did you ever expect to find someone good enough for Anna?”

We’re ganging up on him, not that it matters—my father will fight a thousand people when he feels he’s in the right.

But in this particular instance . . . he isn’t sure.

“We will discuss this more at home,” my father says, snatching up my suitcase. His dark back is a rebuke to all of us. But as he strides toward the car, he pauses and calls over his shoulder to Uncle Seb, “Will your family join us for dinner?”

Uncle Seb hides his grin. “Of course. I’ll bring the wine.”

“Not that shit Cabernet,” Papa says.

“Never the Cab, always the Merlot,” Seb agrees, tipping a wink in my direction.