Hero - The Ambush: Special Forces Romance (4 page)

“This was your idea?” I turned on Haze. “You encouraged my brother to re-enlist so he can get himself killed?”

“I won’t get killed, Leighton.” Ian's voice rose. “I can take care of myself.”

He walked out before I could even think of a response. And I wouldn’t have known what to say if he stayed. How could I tell him that I was terrified of losing him? My baby brother. I may not have been the most responsible person in the world, but I'd always taken care of Ian. And I couldn't do that when he was putting himself in danger like that. If I lost Ian, I'd have nothing. No one.

I'd be truly lost.

Chapter 4

Haze

She
stepped out of the dressing room and the sight of her went straight through me. The silver dress was criss-crossed with white sequins in a dazzling pattern, and when Leighton struck a pose in front of the mirror, they caught the light and flashed. Despite the perfect fit of the dress, the appreciative and jealous glances she was drawing from the other customers, she frowned in the mirror.

I was careful not to move as I watched her from behind my reflective sunglasses. Leighton had shopped all day, barely pausing between shops, and I was tired, hungry, and irritated with her childish avoidance tactics. She'd been hurt by Ian's announcement. Worse than that, she was scared. Instead of facing up to those feelings and talking with her brother, she'd gone shopping, tried on dress after dress, as if scraps of silk and patches of sequins would serve as armor.

Then again, I was the asshole who always went out of my way to not talk about my feelings. What had happened between Leighton and I was a perfect example.

“It's perfection on you,” the exhausted sales clerk said.

“Please,” Leighton said with a flip of her wild curls. “It's missing something. It just doesn't have enough impact.”

A lightning bolt would've had less impact. But, still, no dress was enough to deflect attention from Leighton. Even as she paraded in and out of the private dressing room, people recognized her, whispered about her. But it was never really about her. It was about who they thought she was, how much money she had, who she was out and about with.

I knew that was one of the main reasons her brother wanted to re-enlist. She of all people should understand his desire to escape the selfish expectations and shallow perceptions of their Los Angeles social circle. I understood why she was upset though. Ian had found a way to escape it and she was being left behind. Add that to her completely legitimate concerns about his safety, and she was an explosion waiting to happen.

She burst out of the private dressing room in her original jeans and perfectly torn t-shirt. Swinging her purse onto her shoulder, she marched out the door and down the street. I followed and wondered how long she'd let herself be chased from store to store, looking for something she couldn't find.

The name of the next overpriced boutique stopped me on the sidewalk. Why was it so familiar? I frowned as it came to me, a piece at a time. Standard font, typed out. Delivered anonymously, the content too personal and detailed to be from a casual observer.

Shit.

It was the boutique mentioned in the last threatening letter Devlin received. The sender had mentioned it specifically, along with other details. Like how she'd purchased a blue ombre scarf after a late brunch. It had even described the exact purse she'd been carrying.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle.

I followed her inside and turned to study the front windows. It was an open fishbowl to the busy street. Everyone from tourists to celebrities to office workers walked by. In a town where everyone drove everywhere, this was the kind of place a stalker could stand lost in a crowd.

“How often do you shop here?” I asked Leighton.

“Why? Are you guarding my bank account now too?” she asked.

I watched as she sauntered over to a counter of handmade jewelry. The bits of blown glass and leather tassels were wildly expensive, but she trailed her hand across them and idly selected a necklace. She then took the necklace with its pale blue glass and white gold accents over to a rack of blouses. Standing there, matching the necklace to an equally overpriced silk blouse, she was in full view of anyone on the street.

Shit. If this was her usual way of shopping, it was no wonder someone was able to get details of what she was doing. I just hoped that meant no one on Devlin's staff was involved. She wouldn’t be safe at his place then.

I knew Devlin was adamant I not tell his granddaughter about the threatening letters, but I needed to ask questions to figure things out. “Is this a regular stop on your marathon shopping tours?”

“Getting tired, tough guy?” Leighton asked. “I thought this was what you wanted, a job that kept you up and going so you can convince the army to give you a clean bill of health too. So you can leave...” She shook her head sharply, and I knew she wasn't going to finish that sentence.

I didn't let it distract me. “What I want is to know how often you shop at this particular place.”

“Whenever the mood strikes me.” Leighton slipped a blouse off the rack, and tossed it and the necklace down next to the register. She handed the clerk a credit card without looking. “Though, I suppose that's hard for you to understand. You need feelings before you can have moods.”

My stomach twisted. “And here I was wondering why anyone would dislike you.”

Her eyes fixed on some spot over my shoulder. “Yeah, I get it. Everyone gets tired of my company. I'm better off alone.”

She pushed past me without looking up and marched back onto the busy street.

“Sir, her credit card, her purchase,” the clerk squeaked.

“Thank you.” I grabbed both and hurried out the door, my chest tight at the thought of her without me.

Leighton was alone. Alone in the exact place the person threatening her had watched her only a week ago. The tone of the letters had been growing impatient, and I knew the sender was ramping up to take action. This wasn't the sort of stalker who'd simply disappear. Any time Leighton was alone, she was in danger. She could be injured in plain sight, in dozens of ways, with no one the wiser.

I caught up to Leighton quickly and dragged her through a white doorway. “
Get
off the street.” I spoke through gritted teeth, hoping she couldn't hear the fear under the annoyance.

I couldn't lose her.

She struggled down the equally white hallway until we found ourselves in a small corner of an art gallery. Wrenching her arm free of my grasp, Leighton ducked behind another display wall until we were entirely out of sight. I followed too close, struggling not to tell her the reason for my concern.

When Leighton turned to me, she almost bumped into my chest, forcing her to stumble back. I put my hands on her waist to steady her, and our eyes locked. It was exactly the way we'd stood on the driveway a few days ago when she kissed me. I saw the memory blaze in her eyes, and for a breathless moment, she tipped her chin up, moving her lips closer to mine.

No one could see us from the street. The art gallery was divided into small box-like rooms that were further divided by white display walls. We stood in the far corner behind a display wall of narrow panel paintings that depicted a whale swimming through skyscrapers as if they were kelp waving in the deep ocean.

I could kiss her. I could take this stolen moment and let my body say what I couldn't. There was no one to interrupt us, no reason I shouldn't confess how she was seared in my mind, how she had been for four long years. A flame that defied every sharp breeze. Something I couldn't change, even if I'd wanted to.

And then she spoke and the weight between us shifted.

“How dare you help my brother endanger his life again,” Leighton hissed.

I blinked. “What? I'm the one who saved him in the first place, remember?” My hands flexed on her waist.

“Why exactly did you do that?” Leighton scowled up at me. “So he could go on and get blown up again somewhere else?”

I tried not to think about how much I still wanted to kiss her and focused instead on the more important subject. She needed to understand. “It was your brother's choice to enlist in the first place. I did my duty, and all your brother wants to do is his.”

“That's it, isn't it? All you're capable of. Doing your duty.” Derision dripped from every word.

I yanked her more tightly against me, my voice low. “What do you want me to do, Leighton?”

“It's not about me.” She pushed hard against my chest. “I know you think I'm a selfish person, but it's not about me. Ian can't re-enlist. He can't risk his life again. He's my family.”

“Every soldier has a family,” I said softly as I let her go.

“And that's supposed to make it okay?” Leighton spun away, but not before I saw tears pooling in her bright blue eyes. “If Ian dies, that's it. My family's gone.”

“What about your grandfather?” I pointed out gently.

She gave an unladylike snort. “You don't get it. I knew you wouldn't.”

I reached out to her, but she took a step back.

“Did you know that Paris has gone to live in New York for a few months?” Leighton changed the subject. “She texted me to say the West Coast is too boring.”

I went still, trying to figure out where Leighton was going with this particular train of thought. “I'm sorry.” I hesitated, and then added the truth. “I know she's your best friend, but I never thought she was a good friend to you.”

Leighton wrapped her arms across her stomach, and I could see the pain on her face. It took all of my self-control not to take her in my arms.

She sighed. “Ricky's having too much fun in Monaco. He says I should join him. He wants me there. Says I really knocked him out at the party and we should be together.”

“I thought you said he followed some blonde there,” I said.

She laughed, but I could see the shine of tears in her eyes. “You don't know him like I do. He gets distracted easily. But he always comes back to me.”

The words cut me, but not as deeply as her tears. I reached out a hand again. “Come on, Leighton, I think we should go have a talk with your grandfather. I'm sure he's heard from Ian about re-enlisting by now.”

She laughed again, even more bitter than before. “Dear old Grandfather is away on a business meeting. He remembered to call an hour ago. He said he'd be back in a day or two, which usually means three or four. Trust me, Ian hasn't told him.”

She pushed away from the wall and shook out her arms. When she brushed back her hair, the tears were gone and her voice was flat. “Ian will leave soon whether or not he's told the old man. But it doesn't matter. Everyone leaves. Sometimes they just drive away and never come back.”

I let her push past me into the hallway. Leighton never talked about her parents, about their death in a car accident when she'd been just seventeen. Now the way she'd steered conversation made sense. Her best friend had left. Her boyfriend...well...he was an ass, but an ass she apparently cared about despite him having chased some blonde to another country. Her grandfather was on a business trip, and her brother was threatening to re-enlist and maybe leave her for good. Of course, she felt alone. Of course, she felt like everyone was leaving her and she was on her own.

“Leighton?” I asked, my voice low. “You know I'm here for you, right?”

“Liar,” she said.

I caught her hand, stopping her before she got to the door, but she refused to turn around and face me. “I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere.”

Again, she wrenched her hand free from me, turning to me with blazing eyes. “Liar!” she hissed. “Ian let your little secret slip. Now I know you only took this job because it requires you to be on your feet all day. You thought if you could keep up with me and pound the LA pavement all day and night, you could tell that to the army doctors. A reference from my grandfather, plus the expert witness of the private doctors he paid to fix you up, and you'll get a clean bill of health, no problem.”

I didn't know what to say to that. I'd yet to reconcile my original plan with my current mission to keep Leighton safe. I couldn't leave her. I knew that now. I couldn't move on until I knew she was safe and the threat was gone. Still, I had to admit that I wanted to prove my injury was no longer holding me back. I wanted the clean bill of health. I wanted my career and the life I'd once known back.

The question was…did I actually want my old life back? Or was I only craving the known? If I wasn’t a soldier, then who was I? What and who would I be instead? Did I want to get back on my original path...or could I risk trying something new?

The thought burned me, and Leighton saw the conflict in my eyes.

“Don't worry, I'll make it easy on you,” she said, her expression becoming a cold, smooth mask. “I'm leaving.”

I let her go, and then followed her in silence. There was nothing else I could say to her.

To make things right, I needed to talk with Ian and see if her brother knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe if she had him back, the desperate look in her eyes would fade, and I wouldn't have to worry about her running, putting herself in danger. When people thought they had nothing to lose, that was when they were most dangerous to others...and themselves. I needed her trust, but more than that, I needed Leighton to take care of herself while I searched for the threat she knew nothing about.