Sweet Shadows

Rory POV

I woke up on the floor, my neck stiff from sleeping against the couch. The lamp was still next to me, cold now, and the door was quiet. No more rattling, no Leo—just me and that wad of cash I’d found in his jacket. My stomach churned all day, stuck on it. Was he stealing? Was Frankie making him? I didn’t know, and it hurt my head to think about it. I dragged myself to work, my hands shaky as I dealt cards, waiting for him to show up.

He didn’t. Not ‘til my shift was over. I was wiping down my table, the casino buzzing soft around me, when he walked in. His hair was messy, his shirt untucked, but he smiled at me—small and tired, like he was trying. My chest tightened, caught between mad and glad.

“Hey,” he said, stepping close. “You free?”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Yeah. Where you been?”

He shrugged, his eyes flicking away. “Busy. Come with me.” He grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the door, and my skin tingled where he touched. I wanted to yell—ask about the cash, about last night—but his hand felt warm, and I let it go for now.

He led me outside, down to the boardwalk. The air smelled like salt and fried food, and neon lights flashed bright—red, blue, green—bouncing off the wood under our feet. Waves crashed loud in the dark, steady and strong. Leo stopped at a stand and bought cotton candy, pink and sticky, handing it to me with a grin. “Thought you’d like it,” he said.

I smiled a little, tearing off a piece. “Sweet tooth, huh?” I popped it in my mouth, sugar melting on my tongue, and held some out to him. He leaned in, eating it from my fingers, his lips brushing my skin. My heart jumped, and my face got hot.

We walked slow, sharing the candy, our shoulders bumping. The night felt soft, like maybe we could be okay. He pointed at the water, his voice quiet. “Someday, we’ll leave this shit behind,” he said. “I’ll take you somewhere with no cameras, no bosses watching, no one looking for me.”

I froze mid-bite, my stomach flipping. No one looking for him? Who was looking now? I stared at him, sugar stuck to my lips, and he kept walking, like he hadn’t just dropped that on me. My chest swelled with hope—him and me, free somewhere—but then it sank. What was he running from?

“Sounds nice,” I said, my voice wobbly. I wanted to believe him, wanted it so bad my hands shook. I tore off more candy, stuffing it in my mouth to keep quiet, and followed him under the pier. The lights faded, and it was just us, the waves crashing loud, the air cool and salty.

He turned to me, his eyes dark in the shadows. “Rory,” he said, stepping close. His hands grabbed my waist, pulling me in, and my breath hitched. I dropped the cotton candy, sticky fingers grabbing his shirt, and he kissed me—hard and fast, like he couldn’t wait.

My back hit the rough wood of the pier, scraping through my shirt, and I groaned into his mouth. His lips tasted like sugar and something bitter—whiskey, maybe—and it made my head spin. His tongue pushed in, hot and sloppy, and I kissed back, hungry and loud. The waves matched us, crashing steady as our gasps filled the air.

His hands slid under my shirt, rough fingers brushing my chest. He teased my nipples, pinching light, and I shivered, my knees wobbling. “Leo,” I moaned, my voice shaking, and he growled, low and deep. I pressed against him, hard and eager in my jeans, grinding slow. He felt it too—I could tell by how he pushed back, his breath fast and ragged.

I grabbed his hair, pulling him closer, and his hands went lower, gripping my hips tight. My skin burned where he touched, and I wanted more—wanted him right there, under the pier, with the water roaring around us. “You drive me crazy,” he muttered against my lips, his voice rough.

“Then do something about it,” I shot back, nipping his lip. He groaned, kissing me harder, and for a minute, I let myself believe him—believe we could run away, leave the casino and all its mess behind. My heart swelled, big and warm, and I clung to him, lost in his taste, his heat.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket, loud and sharp. He froze, his lips still on mine, and my stomach dropped. He pulled back slow, his hands slipping off me, and I saw his jaw clench tight. “Ignore it,” I said, grabbing his shirt, my voice desperate.

He shook his head, stepping away, and dug the phone out. The screen lit his face, and I saw it—Frankie again. My chest went cold, hope draining fast. He stared at it, his thumb hovering over the button, and I held my breath, waiting.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice small. “Stay with me.”

He looked at me, his eyes torn, and for a second I thought he’d listen. Then he sighed, heavy and rough, and turned the phone off, shoving it back in his pocket. “Okay,” he said, stepping close again. “Just us tonight.”

I smiled, my heart lifting, and pulled him back in, kissing him soft this time. His hands cupped my face, gentle now, and we stood there, the waves loud around us. I wanted to stay like that forever—him and me, no Frankie, no secrets. My fingers traced his jaw, sticky from the candy, and he leaned into it, his breath warm on my cheek.

We sat under the pier, my head on his shoulder, watching the water. He talked more—about a little house somewhere quiet, no neon lights, just trees and sky. I listened, my chest full, letting myself hope again. “You mean it?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft. “I do.” He kissed my forehead, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe for the first time in days.

Then I saw it—a shadow moving behind him, quick and dark. My heart jumped, and I sat up fast, squinting into the night. “Leo,” I whispered, my voice tight. “Someone’s there.”

He turned, his body stiff, and scanned the boardwalk above. The shadow was gone, but his hand went to his pocket, patting it like he was checking for something. “Probably nothing,” he said, but his voice was off—too tight, too fast. My stomach twisted, that hope cracking again.

“You sure?” I asked, my hands cold now. He nodded, pulling me close, but his eyes kept darting up, watching. I leaned into him, my heart pounding, and noticed something sticking out of his pocket—not the phone, but a folded paper, crumpled and worn. My fingers itched to grab it, but I didn’t. Not yet.

We walked back slow, his arm around me, and I tried to hold onto the warmth—the candy, the kisses, his promises. But as we hit the stairs to his place, a car roared by, loud and close, headlights flashing over us. Leo stopped dead, his arm tightening on me, and I saw his face go pale. “Inside,” he said, sharp and quick, pushing me up the steps.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice shaky, but he didn’t answer, just shoved the door open. My chest tightened, fear creeping in, and I glanced back. The car was gone, but I heard footsteps—fast ones, coming up the stairs behind us. Leo slammed the door, locking it, and turned to me, his eyes wide. “Stay away from the window,” he said, his voice low and hard.

“Who’s out there?” I asked, my heart racing, but he just shook his head, his hand gripping mine tight. The footsteps stopped, and something scratched at the door—soft, like a warning. My breath caught, and I stared at him, waiting, wondering what he wasn’t telling me.