The Ambush

by M. S. Parker

  “And then what?” Ian poured a healthy shot of vodka into two Bloody Marys.

  I turned my eyes to Haze. “And then my bodyguard is going to tell me why he thinks my life is in danger.”

  Ian stopped stirring and Haze scowled as my brother pointed a swizzle stick at him. “Is there something you aren't telling us?”

  “Yes,” Haze said. “You're lucky I didn't knock you unconscious.”

  Ian laughed. “Might need to brush up on my hand-to-hand combat skills, huh?”

  A chill went down my spine. “Why would you need to do that? Just stop skulking around other people's properties without an invitation.”

  Ian sipped his Bloody Mary. “I gotta tell you something, Leighton, and you can't be mad.”

  I took my glass and held it with both hands, as if expecting the alcohol to somehow warm me. “I'm not promising anything.”

  “I re-enlisted this morning.”

  I'd already known what he was going to say, but the words still sent a pain through my heart. I concentrated on a few more long sips and said nothing, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Come on, Sis, I know you're mad, but this is the best thing for me. I didn't want to leave the army in the first place. You know that. Grandfather made it happen. This is what I really want to do,” Ian said.

  “You really want to run off and try to get killed?” I asked, my voice quiet. I didn't understand how he could do this to me. To himself.

  The front door clicked again as Haze let himself out, but I barely noticed him going. My attention was focused on my little brother. Ian leaned heavily on the counter and looked at his feet. The silence stretched between us as we stood there in the kitchen together, miserable.

  “I need this,” Ian finally spoke. “You know how it is here, and it's not a good place for me. The army gives me a chance to get out, have a purpose, help people.”

  I slammed my drink down on the granite counter, surprised that I didn't at least crack the glass. “Tell yourself whatever you want, Ian. I can't stop you, but I'm not going to help you either. You get to tell Grandfather all on your own.”

  Ian stirred his drink and it hit me.

  “You already told him,” I said flatly. “What did he say?”

  “He wasn't happy. At first. But he came around, finally agreed that the army could offer me my own career.”

  Ian's shamrock green eyes were pleading and, in that moment, he looked so much like our father that it made my chest hurt.

  “I found something I really want to do, Leighton. Something I'm good at, a place I can be my own man.”

  I should have been happy for him, but it felt as if chains were tightening around my heart. Ian had a purpose, a direction, and now he had our grandfather's support. Three things I'd never had. Would never have.

  “There are millions of jobs here that you can get on your own. And if you want to get away that badly, you can move to another state, another country. You don't need to join the army to move out on your own. Grandfather would give you part of your inheritance even though you're not twenty-one yet.”

  “The army pays for my training, for my room and board,” he said. “I won't need my inheritance.”

  “And all you have to do is pay with your life,” I snapped.

  He sighed. “Leighton, I'm sorry. I know you feel like I'm leaving you all on your own.”

  I looked away. “Why does that matter? I'm fine on my own. I'm not helpless. I don't need you. Go ahead, go out and get yourself shot up and blown to bits again.”

  “The least you could do is try to be happy for me.” I could hear the hurt in his voice.

  “Happy that you're throwing your life away?” My eyes burned and I forced the tears back. “I'm not going to tell you it's okay. I'm not going to make it easy for you to run off and be an idiot.” I couldn’t stop and I felt my breath coming in and out too fast.

  Why was I the only one who could see Ian was throwing himself in the line of fire because he didn't want to be here? He never liked being linked with our parents or grandfather's fortunes, had never figured out how to deflect people who wanted something from him. The army was his escape, plain and simple.

  He wanted my support, but I couldn't give it to him. “And people call me selfish. At least I can admit when I'm only thinking of myself. But, sure, go ahead and think you're a hero.”

  “I knew you wouldn't understand.” There was an anger in Ian's voice that had never been there before when he'd talked to me. “Haze supports me, and he knows better than anyone what the dangers are. He understands this is the best course for me. This is my purpose.” His tone hardened. “I don't need your permission. I just wanted to tell you face to face.”

  I couldn't look at him, couldn't give him words of support. He waited for several long seconds, and then spun around. He slammed out the front door and I took a shuddering breath.

  I drained the last of my drink as I tried to process what just happened. Ian had re-enlisted. He was going to leave me again. Grandfather hadn't tried to stop him. But even as I thought about it, the surprise I'd originally felt went away. Of course, Grandfather supported Ian. He was all about honor and integrity and making something of yourself. If Ian had played all those cards, Grandfather would've seen things Ian's way. But it wasn't as if Grandfather truly understood what Ian was subjecting himself to.

  Haze did.

  And he'd been there from moment one, telling Ian what to do to get back into the army, standing by him...

  I wiped at my cheeks as my anger focused. Ian wasn't here for me to vent on, but someone else was. I flew from the kitchen and out the front door. I marched across the beach house's narrow driveway, not letting myself consider anything other than finally telling someone off.

  Above the two-car garage was the airy studio apartment Haze had taken over when I declared that I'd be staying at the beach house indefinitely. I practically ran up the outside staircase, knowing full well Haze could hear me coming. He had the door open when I reached the top and I pushed past him hard. I caught a glimpse of surprise on his face as I stalked inside.

  The studio apartment was one large, untouched room, not a single personal item in sight. Haze had pulled down the Murphy bed and put clean, crisp sheets on it. The only other thing in the room was his army issue duffel bag. I ran across the room and kicked it, realizing even as I did it how childish it was.

  “How could you?!” I slapped the palm of my hand against the wall, the sting racing up my arm. I did it again, letting the physical pain overshadow the emotional for a few blissful seconds.

  “Leighton, stop, please.”

  Haze caught my wrist and I turned on him, hitting his chest with my free hand. I could feel the tears starting to stream down my cheeks as I hit him again. He caught my other hand and pulled me against his chest. I struggled, but he wrapped his arms around me, pinning me against him.

  “Shh, baby,” he murmured as he held me. “Shh.”

  I pressed my face against his chest and gave in to the turmoil inside me.

  Chapter 7

  Haze

  How had I missed the narrowness of her shoulders and the thin circle of her arms? She always appeared tall and strong, but without her heels, Leighton hardly reached my chest. How could I have forgotten how slender, how delicate she was? Now, with her tears soaking my shirt, she looked even more fragile than she had since...that night.

  A surge of protectiveness went through me and I swept an arm under her knees, easily picking her up. She weighed next to nothing. Had she lost weight these past few days, or had she always been so light? I carried her to the built-in window seat that overlooked the driveway and sat down, cradling her in my arms as she cried.

  “He's all I have.”

  The words were muffled, but I could understand them, every heart-breaking one of them. “Shh, baby. I've got you,” I murmured the words even as I stroked her hair. I couldn't tell her that she wasn't alone, not when she was like this. She wasn't in the fr
ame of mind to hear it.

  Her creamy skin was so soft, so delicate in the sunlight that I hardly dared touch her. She was barefoot, still in those tiny bits of cloth she called a bathing suit, and her wispy sarong barely covered any of the rest of her. I didn't know how welcome my rough hands would be, but I brushed my fingers along her bare arm anyway, trying to soothe her.

  “What if something happens to him?”

  The question made my chest ache, but I couldn't lie to her, not even to make her feel better. So I didn't respond right away, didn't give her some sort of platitude. I just held her. Held her and tried to think.

  Her bright red hair tickled my chin and I struggled not to inhale her scent. The heady mix of coconut sun lotion was making it very hard to think. What could I say to comfort her?

  “You're a lot like your brother,” I said finally. “Independent despite all your privilege, a desire to be needed. Ian found where he's needed.”

  She took in a shuddering breath as her sobs eased. A few minutes passed and I felt the tension begin to leave her body.

  “Now are you going to tell me I should follow him? Join the army? That's some sick way of recruiting, Haze.”

  I chuckled, her dark humor relieving some of my worry. Leighton stayed curled in my arms, but I knew she was slowly gathering her strength again. Soon, she'd be able to face this as she did everything, fiercely.

  “You know,” I said. “It's hard to change who you are in front of family because they see you a certain way. You told me that yourself. Your brother and grandfather see you as you've always been. Maybe, while Ian's away, you can use that as a chance to change.”

  “Yeah, and in a couple of months, I'll become a...” Her voice faltered, then grew strong again. “Is there even a word when you lose a sibling?” Her voice was bitter. “I'm already an orphan.”

  “You're right,” I said. I'd be honest, but as gentle as I could. “Technically, you are an orphan, but you have your grandfather, and it's time you realized he loves you, even if he doesn't always say the right thing.”

  Leighton sat up and I reluctantly let her go. To my surprise, however, she stayed on my lap. Her eyes still swam with tears, but the light was there again. The light that burned with anger, with passion. I never wanted to see it go out.

  “Speaking of saying the right thing.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why aren't you telling me that Ian will be okay? That everything will be fine?”

  My hands slid up her arms to her shoulders. I forced myself to meet her eyes. “We both know better than that. Life doesn't work that way. Serving in the military is dangerous, and Ian might not make it back.” I brushed a few red curls from her forehead. “But I know that, as hard as it is for you to hear, you don't want me lie to you.”

  My stomach twisted as I thought of all the other ways I was lying to her, hiding things from her. Then she shifted on my lap, and I was too aware of the heat of her body against mine to think about too much.

  “So you don't think I need comfort?” A small smile played on her lips.

  “You're tougher than you look.” My voice was rough. If she kept squirming like that, I was going to go from half-hard to full mast in about thirty seconds.

  “Am I?” she murmured as she brushed her lips across my jaw. “Are you as tough as you look, Mr. Haze?”

  Fuck it.

  I slid my arms around her and lifted her up, shifting her until she was straddling my lap. As her eyes locked with mine, I was hit with a moment of deja vu. We'd been like this the first time we'd...

  Her eyes flashed an even brighter blue and I knew she was remembering too. She rocked against me and I had to bite back a moan. There was no way to deny how much I wanted her now.

  I claimed her mouth, the need burning me up as her hot lips met mine. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. I buried my hand in her fiery curls, holding her head still as I deepened the kiss. She moaned as I plunged my tongue into her mouth, tasting as deep as she would allow.

  All of my previous good intentions dissolved as her hands ran over my chest, up to the base of my skull. I needed her more than I'd ever realized, more than I'd ever needed anyone. As long as she wanted me too, I had to have her.

  Mouths locked in the devouring kiss, I stood up and carried her to the bed. I lowered her to the crisp white sheets, thankful I'd taken the time to change them. I nipped at her bottom lip, swallowing her sounds of pleasure as we tore at our clothes.

  Her sarong fell across the bed and I made short work of her bikini. As I trailed kisses down her neck, I managed to make my way out of my pants and boxers, tossing them to the floor. As I pushed back up on my knees to pull off my shirt, I looked down at her, body flushed with desire, eyes dark.

  I opened my mouth to ask her if she was sure, to make certain this was what she really wanted.

  And then her mouth was on me, hot and wet. Her lips closed around the head, tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive skin. Her nails scratched lightly across my hipbone.

  I rested my hand on her head and looked down to find her watching me from under thick lashes. As she took more of me into her mouth, my entire body tensed. I swore. If she didn't stop soon, I'd go in her mouth, and as much as the thought of it turned me on, I’d been dreaming of this for four years and I wanted to be inside her.

  “Leighton.” I gave her curls a bit of a tug. “Babe, please.”

  She raised her head, letting me watch as my cock slid from between her kiss-swollen lips. I groaned, my fingers flexing in her hair. She reached up, wrapping her fingers around my wrist. She pulled on my arm as she laid back on the bed, opening her legs in obvious invitation.

  I swore under my breath and started to climb off the bed. Leighton's fingers tightened on my wrist and I looked down at her. “I just need to see if I have a condom here.”

  I was going to kill myself if I didn't. Sure, there were other ways we could finish up, but I wanted to be in her, moving, feeling...

  “Please.”

  I looked down at her, at those deep blue eyes pleading with me. I couldn't resist even though I knew it was the smart thing to do. True, I'd only been with a few women, but she'd been with Ricky and he'd been with...well, half of LA seemed like a low estimate.

  “It's okay, Haze.” Her voice was soft. “I want to feel you.”

  I let her pull me down onto her and then I was inside her, pressed deep into her hot, wet core. She cried out in pleasure, arching off the bed as I reached the end of her. I wrapped my arms under her as I pulled back, then thrust in, our bodies entwined, joining together so fiercely, so perfectly. It was everything I remembered and so much more. I tried to slow down, tried to draw things out, make it last as long as possible.

  “Haze, Haze,” she chanted my name even as her body rose to meet mine, and it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

  I captured her mouth again, sliding my hand up her side to cup her breast as my teeth scraped her bottom lip. My thumb played across her tight nipple and I sucked her lip into my mouth. Her nails raked down my back, not deep enough to really hurt, but enough to sting.

  I could feel my body reaching the end and I fought with it, desperate for her to come first. I slid my mouth down across her cheek to her ear. I bit down on her earlobe and her entire body jerked.

  “Like that?” I whispered.

  Her pussy tightened around me and I swore, squeezing my eyes closed. I drove into her, rolling my hips until she was gasping, writhing. I pressed my mouth against her ear.

  “Come for me, Leighton. I need you to come.” I nipped at the side of her throat and she cried out.

  Even as I felt her body starting to fall over the edge, I was there with her, following her, joining her. I clutched her to me, holding her tight as we rode the wave of pleasure together. For several long moments, nothing existed but us.

  As we came down, I rolled us over, pulling her with me. I held her even as our bodies cooled, trying to keep myself from thinking about anything else, because I knew when I di
d, it wouldn't be good.

  I'd taken advantage of her. Glorious, strong, independent Leighton, and I had used a moment of weakness, her depth of sorrow, to slake my overwhelming need for her.

  The peace dissolved and I felt the sting of guilt take its place.

  Chapter 8

  Leighton

  I knew before I opened my eyes that Haze was gone. The bed was cool against my bare skin, and there was no heavy weight drawing me to the center of the mattress. He hadn't run right away this time, so I'd thought, hoped, that maybe it would be different. He'd held me afterwards, curled close to his body, our skin contoured along every line. I'd felt safe, protected, and I'd actually fallen asleep easier than I had in years.

  Even though I knew he was gone, I kept my eyes closed, and told myself it didn't matter. How could it when I'd gotten exactly what I wanted? If he'd been beside me, it would only be awkward. He was still my bodyguard, my employee. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to tell him what to do. Especially when it was doing something he didn't want to do. And how could I go out to a club, find some hot guy to dance with, bring home, if he was watching?

  The pink morning light slipped in through the side window as I finally pried open an eyelid. I hadn't realized it was morning. We'd slept together all night.

  I looked around, not wanting to hope that Haze was just in the shower, getting dressed. The bathroom door was open, but I could see his army-issue duffel bag still sitting on the floor.

  A rush of relief went through me when I realized he hadn't left completely. That would've been a foolish thing for me to think. He worked for me, after all. He couldn't just up and leave, could he? The relief, however, annoyed me. I didn't want to be relieved that Haze was still around.

  I sat up and sighed. Ian. Haze. Grandfather. I had too much in my head.

  Movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. A piece of paper fluttered on an otherwise naked refrigerator front. I got up, not even bothering to wrap my sarong around me before I sauntered over to read what Haze wrote. Without acknowledging it, I was bracing myself for what was coming.