Chapter Twelve

1121 Houston St.

Little Italy

Manhattan

Mathilda remained in the chair, watching her hands clench and unclench in her lap. Leave the country? She'd never even left New York. Except to Jersey, but that didn't count. Tony returned to the room and took the chair beside her again.

"It's all set. Passport guy'll be here in the morning. Your flight's at noon." He put the phone back on its base and stood, coming to stand beside her. He hesitated, then put a hand on her shoulder. "Stay here tonight, kid. There's an extra bedroom, even has some ladies clothes in it." Before Mathilda could answer, Giovanni entered the room. Tony and Mathilda looked at him expectantly.

"He'll be fine. Bullet came out cleanly and I stitched up the hole. As long as infection doesn't set in, he should be healed up in a couple of weeks. I've given him a mild sedative, sleep is really the best thing for him now. I've also left some antibiotics, make sure he takes them twice a day."

"I'll take care of it," Mathilda promised. Giovanni nodded and looked to Tony.

"Thanks for coming over so fast," Tony said, shaking his hand. "I'll walk you out." When Tony returned to the room, he picked up his jacket and came to stand in front of Mathilda. "I'll be back in the morning, get some sleep, okay?" She nodded and Tony squeezed her shoulder.

After locking the door after him, she made her way to the back bedroom and slowly opened the door a crack. The soft illumination of the bedside lamp revealed a peacefully sleeping Leon. A smile touched Mathilda's lips and she quietly closed the door.

She tried the door across the hall and found another bedroom. In going through the chest of drawers in the room, she found quite an assortment of women's clothing. She raised an eyebrow, wondering who they belonged to, then shrugged and chose some underwear and a nightgown in her size. After brushing her teeth and having a hot shower, she slipped on the nightgown and climbed into the bed, not realizing what a toll the day had taken on her. She was exhausted.

Almost an hour later, she'd tried every conceivable position on the bed and multiple fluffings of the pillow. She couldn't sleep, she was too restless. If she wanted to be completely honest with herself, she couldn't stop thinking about Leon. Right across the hall. Fifteen feet away.

'Eh, fuck it,' she thought, jumping up and exiting the room. She walked across the hall and opened Leon's door, stepping through and closing it behind her. She stood at the edge of the bed and examined him. The sheet had slipped down, revealing his bare chest. She frowned at the burn scars criss crossing his arms and torso, almost like candle wax that's melted into a puddle.

She didn't care that he was scarred. He was still beautiful to her, he always would be. She hurt for him, for the pain he must have gone through after the fire. The coma, the waking, the rehabilitation. And he had been alone through it all. It was almost more than she could fathom.

Unable to resist, she walked around to the unoccupied side of the bed and slid under the covers. She pulled the sheet back up to Leon's chest and settled beside him, placing a kiss on his uninjured shoulder and laying her had on his chest. She fell asleep within minutes to the steady beat of his heart.

Leon woke feeling warm and serene. He immediately tensed and went on alert because he never woke feeling warm and serene. Even more strange was the fact that there was someone in the bed with him. He noticed the hand on his chest and followed it up an elegant arm, a delicate shoulder, and a swan like neck. Finally, he came to the face. Mathilda.

He breathed a sigh of relief and sank back onto the bed, enjoying the sensations that were coursing through his body. This was very new to him, being in bed with a woman. There hadn't been anyone since Lilliana, back in Italy. But she had never been able to stay the night. She would spend a few hours with him and then race home before her father found out she was gone.

Lilliana. Leon closed his eyes in pain. More than 20 years had passed, but her death still hurt. And it was because of him. Her father had found out about them. He had killed her, killed his own daughter for consorting with what he considered trash and sullying the family name. Killed her and got away with it. A slap on the wrist, charges dismissed, free to go home. Leon couldn't accept that, not for his murdered love. So he'd put a bullet between the man's eyes and left Italy that night.

Justice. That's what he'd gotten that night. At least, that's what he'd always told himself. Maybe it was time to let the past go. Lilliana would want him to be at peace, to find some happiness. A stirring at his side brought him back to the present.

Mathilda stretched and opened her eyes, blinking at him sleepily. She frowned at him in confusion, then her eyes widened.

"Good morning," Leon said softly. She shot up to a sitting position.

"Good morning," she replied automatically, various excuses for being in bed with him racing through her mind. "I was . . . um . . . cold. And there was . . . a noise. And . . . how's your shoulder?"

"It's good," he replied, flexing it for her benefit. She nodded absently and glanced at the clock. Just after 6:00 a.m.

"The doctor left you some antibiotics," she told him, indicating the bottle on the bedside table, "to be taken twice a day. It's morning, you should probably take one now." With that, she bounded off the bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the cold water and splashed her face, then looked in the mirror. "What the hell were you thinking?" she asked her reflection. When no answer was forthcoming, she filled a glass with water and walked back into the bedroom. She handed the glass to Leon, then opened the medicine bottle and shook out a tablet. "Open your mouth, please," she ordered, which he promptly did.

While Leon swallowed his pill, Mathilda shrugged and crawled back onto the bed to sit Indian style beside him.

"The doctor had already knocked you out last night, so we didn't get a chance to tell you. Tony says we have to leave the country today."

"Federal agents," Leon reasoned, nodding.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Shitty as they may have been, they were still federal employees. Tony's bringing someone by to make us passports this morning. We have a flight to London at noon. From there . . . I don't know. I guess we'll decide that when the time comes."

She offered to run him a bath, which he accepted, but politely refused when she offered to help bathe him.

"I think I'll be okay," he assured her, guiding her out of the bathroom and closing the door. She grinned when she heard the lock engage behind her.

"Your loss," she muttered under her breath, then headed to the other bedroom to put on jeans and a t-shirt. She couldn't find any shoes, so just padded around in socks.

In the living room, she flopped onto the couch and picked up the remote, surfing stations for the morning news. A few minutes of cruising the major networks told her that Jimmy and Simon hadn't been found yet. They would be within the next hour or two though when people started arriving for work.

Ten minutes later, Tony arrived baring breakfast and accompanied by a tall thin man wearing glasses and carrying a silver briefcase and a laptop.

Tony deposited cups of coffee and paper bags full of colaziones, Italian breakfast patries, on the kitchen table, then motioned to Mathilda.

"I went to the Spencer School and picked up some of your things. Carlo'll bring 'em in. We'll need to stop by Chase and close out your bank account." Mathilda gave him a perplexed look. "Once the Feds find out who you are, they'll freeze the account. What do you think you and Leon are gonna live on?"

"Right."

Leon walked into the room, feeling fresh and rested. Tony looked at him and shook his head in disbelief.

"Amazing. You survived that fire and look at you. Didn't I say you were indestructible?" Leon nodded as Tony slapped him on the arm.

"I'm ready," a voice said behind them. The tall thin man had opened his briefcase and set out a digital camera, mini printer, and other assorted items.

Leon and Mathilda each had their pictures taken and watched as the man brought the photos up in a program on the laptop that meshed their images with passport documentation. He printed them out, laminated them, and carefully inserted them between the blue binders of American passports.

"Nice," Tony commented, looking over the finished product. The man packed up his paraphernalia and left.

Tony asked Mathilda for a few moments alone with Leon.

"Sure," she agreed. "I'll go sort and pack. And find some shoes."

Tony joined Leon at the table, taking one of the cups of coffee and pouring in some sugar. Leon put down his colazione and waited, knowing Tony had something to say. Tony grinned and shook his head. Mathilda did the exact same thing when he wanted to talk to her.

"I'm saddened, Leon," Tony told him. "Here I am losing my best cleaner all over again." He paused and took a sip of his coffee. "And a good friend," he added quietly.

"Me, too," Leon said, nodding. Both men let the moment hang until Tony cleared his throat.

"Well, down tot business." He explained about the account he'd opened in Mathilda's name with Leon's money. Switzerland was a good place to transfer the balance, might even end up higher with the exchange rate.

"Whatever Mathilda wants," Leon said.

"Okay," Tony agreed. "Whatever Mathilda wants." Leon appeared to think something over.

"Tony," Leon asked, "how has Mathilda been?" Tony lit a cigarette and laughed in genuine amusement.

"I'll tell you how Mathilda's been." And so he did. From the day of Leon's 'death', her weekly visits to the restaurant, her eventual employment, success at school, and her 18th birthday gift he was blackmailed into giving her. Finally, he sighed. "Leon, she's smart, got accepted to practically every major university in the country, and what does she want? To be a cleaner, like you." Tony shook his head over the absurdity of it all.

"She should've forgotten about me, it would've been better for her."

"Hey, 'better' isn't always better. Besides, she's a good kid. I think you were . . . a positive influence." Tony glanced at his watch. "We need to get going, I don't know how long the bank thing's gonna take."

Tony cleaned up the remains of breakfast while Leon fetched Mathilda from the bedroom where she was just finishing her packing. In the limo, Tony put his banking idea to Mathilda, who readily agreed. The entire account transfer and accompanying paperwork took less than an hour and they were on their way to the airport. At the curb of the Departures gate, Tony declined to enter with them.

"I prefer clean breaks," he told them, then hesitated and held out his arms to Mathilda. "Come here, kid." She gave him a fierce hug, feeling tears prick her eyes. This man had been more of a father to her in the past six years than her real one had been in the first twelve. She quickly let go and climbed out, wiping her eyes and sniffling. Tony and Leon exchanged a good long handshake, then Leon climbed out as well.

In the airport, Leon and Mathilda passed through security and obtained their boarding passes with no fanfare and eventually boarded their flight. First class.

"Well," Mathilda said, settling into her seat. "Tony knows how to send people off in style, doesn't he?" Leon gave a faint smile and nodded as he took his own seat. "Have you ever been to London?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head.

"Me either. I don't think I would like it. Everyone complains about how rainy and gloomy it is. I want sun and warmth and wide open spaces." She took a deep breath before speaking again. "You know where I'd like to go?" Leon shook his head.

"Where?"

"Italy," Mathilda stated, sliding her hand into his and squeezing. Leon looked at their joined hands, then into her eyes.

"Italy it is," he said after a moment, squeezing back and linking their fingers.