What She Doesn't Know

Chapter 17

"Kid," Leo sighed as he examined Derek head to toe. His legs weren't wide enough and he was rocking on his heels rather than the balls of his feet. Leo walked up to Derek and shoved his shoulder, causing the kid to let out a small gasp in surprise and fall back on his ass. "Your balance is all wrong."

Derek's frustration grew. He had been training with Rafel and Mr. Moretti for the better part of the day and each time he ended on his ass. He always managed to screw something up. His eyes blazed. He didn't want to get up; rather, he thought about laying on his back so as to allow the floor to swallow him whole. It was almost as embarrassing as when he pissed his pants in Moretti's office.

To his surprise, Mr. Moretti offered him a hand. He was hesitant; last time Moretti helped him up and pushed him back down again. Noticing this conflict within the kid's brain, Moretti said, "C'mon, kid. I promise I won't knock you down."

Derek huffed and grabbed ahold of Moretti's forearm and stood up. This time he made sure to keep his stance wide and posture himself so that his chest was over his feet. Moretti pushed his shoulder again. This time, however, Derek didn't fall. He wavered a bit but ultimately maintained his balance.

The corner of Moretti's lip jutted up in the slightest angle. The kid was making progress.

"You said you wouldn't knock me down," Derek huffed in annoyance.

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Did I?"

"Well, no, but - "

"Listen, kid. You're learning. You didn't make the same mistake twice."

Derek wondered if he should be taking what Moretti said as a compliment or as a statement. Either way, if he inadvertently said that he was improving, he'd take what he could get. Even if it wasn't coated with the positivity of a unicorn. He was about to reply when Rafael called Leo over.

"Do three sets of 18 squat jumps. Keep your feet wide and your chest over your knees. Your body low." He dismissed Derek with the turn of his back as he headed toward Rafael.

"Boss," Rafael spoke formally, as he held out a phone for him to take, "it's Jonas. He said something about seeing Spektor."

Leo was quick to take hold of the phone. "Speak."

Jonas' breathing was harsh as though he had just run a mile. Perhaps he had. Although, judging by his body weight and proportions, he wouldn't hold his breath. "Spektor. Coffee shop. Your wife was there. They were talking together."

Leo froze up. How could have Spektor known about his wife? He had kept her out from his public's view for the past three years they have been married. Unless someone gave the information away. He had a spy. There was no other way around it. But who would want to die badly enough to cross him?

His eyes glared into no one particular direction. Frustration and anger clouded his mind as he thought of Spektor possibly harming Isa. Spektor was too intelligent to kill a woman in a coffee shop or divulge who he is. He was psychotic, but at least he knew how to play the cards he had been dealt with.

"I sincerely hope that this is not a game, Jonas. Your son is on the line."

"It's not!" His voice was clear with fright. "I promise you. It's not." He sounded defeated as though knowing his son's life brought more clarity to the situation. "I saw her leave with another woman and Spektor left a little while after."

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the kid huffing out air as he continued his training. He pondered on whether he would be able to track down his wife and Janice. Dripping sweat and lacking form, he decided against it. He wasn't prepared to guard a kitten.

"Did you follow?"

"Why do you think I'm out of breath?" Ah, so Jonas was putting in the effort. Interesting.

"Good. Where are you know?"

"They're headed toward the corner of Adams and Taylor. Shops are lining the strip."

It was about a fifteen-minute drive to the women. If Spektor intended to harm, he would have already done so. He's become more crafty in his trade of killing; therefore, he could be waiting for the perfect moment to strike. That, or he's stalking their every move in order to gain more intel on them.

"Which store?"

"TJ Maxx it would seem."

Of course Isa would go into that one. With a roll of his eyes, he turned toward Rafael and indicated to him to get the cars ready. "Stay close by. If anything happens in the next twenty minutes, inform me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Leo hung up and turned his attention to the kid. He had fixed his balance but he was still off. He'd have to fix that later. As of now, there were more important matters to attend to. "Kid! Come with me."

Derek's confused expression marred his face. He was thinking about talking back, explaining that he'd try harder, that he didn't finish, that he'd run sprints. Anything for Moretti to not hash out his anger on him.

Getting in trouble with Moretti was something far off the radar in Derek's mind. He had witnessed his dominance and composure, yet he dared not expand into the unknown region of pure anger.

"We're going on a trip." Those were the only words that left Moretti's mouth in an explanation. He didn't seem pleased one bit.

"Where to?"

"TJ Maxx." Derek cringed. The last time he had been in there was when his girlfriend wanted him to help her pick out the blue jeans. They all appeared the same. Blue with pockets. Blue without pockets. Blue with rips. Blue without rips. Either pair looked good on her. But she had to find the pair. Never again would he step into that store with his girlfriend.

"May I ask why?" The pair arrived at the car Rafael had brought to the front of the building. they both climbed in: Leo in the passenger seat and Derek behind him.

Moretti shrugged. He turned his head slightly to the side to get a better look at Derek. "We're going shopping," he deadpanned. "Why else would we go to that formidable store?" Finally, someone who understood the horrors of it all.

"Who are we shopping for?"

"An old friend of mine," Moretti stated as he turned forward in his seat. "His style is bland: all black and boring."

Derek slumped in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. He felt as though there was something more than just "shopping" for an old friend. Moretti didn't have friends. He had enemies. A light bulb went off in his head.