The door to Leo’s bedroom was wide open the next morning. Light poured out of the open windows, and the book that had hit Bailey in the head had been put back on its shelf. Even the liquor bottles had been placed in a trashcan, far out of sight.
Bailey’s silk green flats tiptoed quietly past the room, hoping not to disturb its owner for more reasons than one. But when she took her glance inside, she was shocked to find no one there, and the master bathroom’s door was wide open revealing its emptiness.
The booming sound of a man’s voice startled her as she walked towards its source. The television that had remained off for the entire time since her arrival was set to a sports news channel. The man was recapping a tennis match as a replay of the game played. She stared at it unsure of what to make of her transformed surroundings. Even the air had seemed to smell a bit different from the night before.
“Hello Miss Reed.” Bailey spun quickly, her hands instantly flying up to her head as the bruise pounded against the temple. Leo watched her as she tried to maintain her balance. His hands steadied her in place as he apologized quietly, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Leo—I mean, Mr. Connelly—” She was more than surprised to see him. Not only was he out of his room and in one of the common areas, but he was out of his sweats and t-shirts and was wearing a pair of dark dyed blue jeans that hugged his legs and a white button down shirt. She looked him over once more as she slowly caught her breath and then scuttled out of his grasp, “I’m fine. Thank you. Just jumpy today, I suppose.”
“Why are you not in bed? You can take the day off, you know. This house isn’t gonna burn to the ground just because you’re no—” The sound of the smoke alarm began to chime from deep in the kitchen. Leo shook his head frantically and ran back towards the sound.
Bailey followed him and watched as he removed a pan from one of the stainless steel burners. She chimed in, offering a, “Can I help you?”
“I tried to make myself some eggs. As you can see, it’s not going very well.” Leo held up the pan towards her, showing her the black, mushy remains of the yolks.
“No, not well at all. Go sit down.” She walked towards him, taking the pan out of his hands and placing it in the sink. Bailey noted the way that she could still feel the impression his skin made against hers as their arms brushed and her back slid past his chest to maneuver around him. She retrieved a clean pan and the carton of eggs, “I’ll make you an omelet and some toast. Go sit down. I’ll be out there in a second.”
“Seriously, I can do this.” He ran his hand through his hair as he watched her light the burner and then lower the flame.
“You’re not the one getting paid here. I am. Let me do my job.” She turned her back to him as a wide smile drew across her face. The first few eggs cracked in her hand before she finally heard him turn and walk back towards the living room.
Minutes later, she emerged with a steaming plate in one hand and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice in the other. She set it before Leo who had taken up the entire length of the black leather couch. His eyes stared at the screen as the program had changed from tennis to boxing.
“Do you miss it?” Bailey broke his concentration.
“Boxing?” He turned his gaze towards her, a hint of a smirk causing his lip to twist upwards. “Yeah. I miss it—mainly the physicality of it, the control.” She blushed as the events of last night came back to her.
Bailey walked towards the storage closet and took out the broom and dustpan from its place. He watched her as she began working on the floors of the dining area, finally calling back to her. “Why don’t you take a break?”
She leaned the broom up against the wall and stood next to the couch. Her arms crossed tensely before her chest. “You don’t pay me to sit around, do you?”
“I pay you to be my home’s caretaker. And from the look of it, the house has been cared for. So I'm giving you permission to sit down and watch some TV.” He emphasized the word ‘permission.’
“I didn’t ask you for permission, sir.” She pulled at the black flowing folds of her dress and curtsied sarcastically. “And there is a ton to. I still need to get to your room and bathroom, order the groceries for the week, tackle the library’s carpet…”
“Sit down Miss Reed.” His voice had lost its humor and instead became commanding. She sat at the edge of the couch, the farthest she could get from him. He could see her fear starting to rise as he eased off, “Just for an hour, okay? I never do this.”
Her body relaxed as she tried to follow the match playing on the television. During the judging break, she turned to Leo and asked, “Why don’t you go back. To boxing, I mean. If you miss it, why would you leave it?”
“When my parents died in an accident, I just couldn’t recover. I wasn’t as strong as I used to be. I wasn’t as quick. My trainer left me first, and then my couch followed. No one wanted to put me back in the ring so the sponsors fled. Announcers started calling me ‘a legend’ which is another way of nicely saying that I was done with.” Leo took a sip of his orange juice to push back the knot that had formed deep in his throat.
“I’m sorry to hear about your parents. I didn’t know that. Mine died too. My mom from cancer, my dad from a motorcycle accident.” Bailey could feel the connection. Two lost orphans trying to find their way.
She thought of her own daughter and how she was left parentless at the halfway home. Lily, by all the updates she received from her counselor, was doing and adjusting well. She was in school now and was taken in by a couple. Her new residence was in their foster home in one of the more affluent neighborhoods. While her heart ached every day for her own daughter, Bailey at least recognized that what she was doing was right.
Still, every morning, she logged into her bank account and counted down the paychecks until she could have it all. At the rate she was going, she could take Lily now. They could go back to living in a small apartment, eating cereal for dinner, and her taking on a job or two while Lily was in school. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be something.
Leo broke Bailey’s thoughts of reuniting, “Why didn’t you make any eggs for yourself? Aren’t you hungry?”
“I ate back at the pool house before I got here. Plus, this isn’t my house. I don’t think I’m allowed to eat here unless it was an emergency.”
“You can do whatever you want. I don’t mind. This home is sort of yours as well. I mean, you live on the complex.” Leo liked the thought of not having to live in this prison by himself, to not wake up to an empty home alone.
“Tell Jonathan that,” Bailey laughed, feeling the notebook she used to take down Leo’s schedule rub up against her skin from her front pocket. She hadn’t made an entry since Lyanna had left. She was not sure what to put down for the time he had spent in her bed.
“Come on, man!” Leo screamed. “You gotta protect the neck. Jesus. Amateurs.” He gestured wildly toward the screen as a man in silver trunks took a blow to the shoulder and then stumbled back towards the ropes.
“It doesn’t look that hard. I mean, it’s brutal, but it’s just punching, right? Anyone could do that.” Bailey couldn’t see what Leo did. He was on his feet yelling at the television while the announcers were equally up in arms over what had occurred.
He turned back towards her, his eyes wide. “Just punching? Let me ask you this: have you ever hit anyone before?”
“No. Well yeah. I mean, I slapped a girl who stole my boyfriend in high school. Does that count?” Bailey thought back to Zoey’s red cheek, her stinging hand, and her boyfriend’s shocked expression.
“Not really.” Leo offered out his hand towards her, “Stand up. I’m gonna teach you.”
“You’re going to what?” Bailey stood up on her own, avoiding anymore physical contact.
“I’m gonna teach you how to hit someone. It’s much harder than slapping some sixteen year old slut who had it coming.”
He positioned her in front of him so that their bodies lined up. He then took her shoulders and arms gently to put her in a fighting stance. One leg slightly in front of the other and the arms up near her face and neck. Leo mimicked her pose as he demonstrated a punch first. “Lead with your arm, not with your fist. Keep your throwing arm level with your shoulders and then retract them to protect your neck as quickly as possible. Got it?” She nodded, understanding.
Leo grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and placed it about two feet from her waiting arms. “Punch it!” he screamed. She hit it lightly and then laughed as she masked the awkwardness. “That was weak, Miss Reed. PUNCH IT!”
Bailey hit the fluffy pillow again, this time with more force. Leo was still not satisfied. “You call that a punch? Put some anger in it! Think of all the shit you’ve been through and hit the crap out of this pillow!”
Bailey inhaled as thoughts of her great-aunt Catherine waiting outside her apartment on moving day as she inspected the house to ensure Bailey or Lily hadn’t taken anything that didn’t belong to her. She remembered her first phone call the next day about the missing pieces of jewelry and the warnings of going to the cops. She remembered each name call, each shout, each accusation.
A red hot madness swelled in her as she could feel the pearl necklace sting against her chest. She let out a guttural yell as she slammed her fist into the pillow, knocking it out of Leo’s hand. Bailey had hit too hard, falling forward into his arms with him being just quick enough to catch her fall.
“Woah there! That’s a ton of anger you got there… and a helluva punch!” Leo looked at her excitedly. He had never coached someone before, let alone even shared his hobby with a girl. An idea struck him as he grabbed her hand and dragged her out the screen door to the garage.
“What are you doing? Leo!” Bailey tripped on her own feet as she tried to keep up. He picked her up and wrapped his arm around her as he guided her down the stairs to the complex underneath the car park. He unlocked the door leading to the hidden room and punched on the lights. The room smelled musty and damp. It hadn’t been used in years Bailey noted based on the dust and the dirt.
In the center stood a massive blue, red, and white full-sized boxing ring complete with the ropes and a row of chairs on each of the four corners. On each side was a different workout station. There was a section for cardio with jump ropes, treadmills, and an elliptical. On the opposite were weights, mats, and bands.
Leo raced off towards the back of the room to a large black box. Opening the metal door, he grabbed the wires and hooked his phone up. Music suddenly boomed from the speaker set above Bailey’s head.
“Sorry about the state of this place. When I was fighting, this place always had people coming in and out of it. I actually slept in that room most nights.” He pointed towards the small, walled off area where a long fabric couch was covered by a pink sheet. “I haven’t been down here in, well, a while now.”
He grabbed her hand and led her to a closet in the back. “Hold out your hands like this.” He showed her how he held his hand up straight in front of his face with his palm facing his body.
She followed his lead as she finally caught the breath to ask, “What are we doing here?”
“Boxing, Miss Reed. We’re gonna teach you how to box so you can stop holding back all that anger.” He wrapped her hands quickly with a roll of elastic fiber and then tossed a pair of red gloves at her. She slipped them on, feeling their heavy weight. Leo watched her as she tried to lift her arms, “You’ll get used to them. It’s a different sensation than bare knuckles, but it’s for your protection”
He tossed on a helmet and a chest protector and then jumped up on the ring’s platform. She tried to jump up herself, but struggled to get off the ground. “Can I help?” Leo asked, not wanting to move too fast for her. She nodded as he jumped back down and scooped her into his arms and then hoisted her onto the matt and over the ring’s ropes.
After showing her some additional moves and combinations, the two were ready to go. Bailey asked tentatively as he put the helmet back on his head. “So, what do I do? Do I just hit you? I can’t do that.”
“You can do it. You’re not gonna hurt me. Nothing hurts me.”
“I’m not hitting my boss. You have to be crazy, Mr. Connelly!”
“Stop calling me that, first of all. You know my name is Leo. And secondly, hitting your boss is everyone’s fantasy. Think of all the glasses I’ve broke. Think of all the girls I’ve had over. Think of all the booze you’ve had to scrub out of my carpet. Come on! Hit me!”
Without needing to hear another word, she swiped at his face, landing a solid blow that pushed him back a foot and whipped his head to the side. “I’m so sorry! Mr. Con—Leo! I shouldn’t be doing this…”
She tried to yank the glove off of her hand as she turned away from him embarrassed. He forcefully grabbed at her hips and spun her back to face him. The punch had drawn some blood around his lip pooling in a tiny corner. She touched the warm spot gently as the two leaned into one another.
Both breathed deeply, rapidly. Her chest heaved and pulsated as he too attempted to draw in air. She whispered as she leaned her porcelain face closer to where her fingertips traced the small cut, “Now, I guess, we’re even.”
“Leo?” A startled voice cut them off causing Bailey to once again pull away. “What’s going on here?” Jonathan stood at the doorway, watching the two feign off their embrace. “What are you doing in here.”
Leo jumped down, followed by Bailey. He ran to the speaker and pulled his phone out. Bailey slipped past Jonathan as he shot daggers at her. She quickly retreated back to her post upstairs leaving the two men alone.
“I was teaching Bailey some boxing moves. No big deal.”
“Bailey? Boxing? What the hell has gotten into you? Last night, you couldn’t even remember the girl’s name, and now you’re letting her take a swing at you? What the fuck man?” Jonathan took a seat on one of the metal folding chairs.
“I dont know. After I hit her with the book, I, uh, felt bad.” Leo took the chair two seats away. “It’s not like she was gonna do anything.”
“Do anything? It looks like she already has, Leo. Don’t play dumb with me. Do you even know who she is or at least who she says she is?” Jonathan pulled out his phone and began typing away.
“She’s a girl I got fired from her job and then tortured for the last month. I can stand to be nicer.”
Jonathan looked up and sighed. “She’s a thief—a gold digger—and she’s fired from here as well.”