His Eternal Flame

by Valentine, Layla

  Finding myself being drawn from my peaceful rest, I blinked my eyes open. I wasn’t sure what woke me, as the sun was still absent from the sky and everything seemed to be as I’d left it. I sat up for a moment, stretching my arms out over my head as I yawned. I glanced towards the bed where Emily was sleeping peacefully.

  Where she was supposed to be sleeping, anyway.

  The realization that she was not in bed was a startling one, and I felt as if the breath had been knocked clean out of my lungs.

  She had to be in the bathroom. That had to be it. It was the only rational conclusion.

  Making an attempt to calm myself down, I got to my feet all the same, intent upon giving the young woman a piece of my mind. If she’d needed to leave the room, she should have woken me up.

  I could only assume that the lack of her comforting presence had been what caused me to stir, but I wondered how long it had taken me to notice that something was off. It couldn’t have been that long, especially if she was still in the bathroom.

  Please, God, let her be in the bathroom.

  “Emily,” I called out, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I strode out of the bedroom.

  The silence that answered me was a foreboding one, but I wouldn’t let myself start freaking out yet. That is, I didn’t plan to, until I saw the bathroom door wide open, and no one inside.

  Even more terrifying than her absence from the place I’d expected to find her was the window. It had been jimmied open, and the cool night air flowed freely into the safe house.

  “Emily!” I yelled, lurching towards the window and looking out.

  Had she been taken? It was unlikely, but the idea that she would sneak away from me was almost too ridiculous to comprehend—did she know what kind of danger she was in?

  I shouted out the window once more, jolting upright and banging my head against the window as someone in turn shouted for me to pipe down. I scowled, but didn’t bother biting out an answer.

  I had a captive to find, and Los Angeles was a big city. There was no telling where she had gone or what had happened to her. I had no idea how long she had even been gone. I had fallen asleep hours ago.

  Rushing through the apartment, I checked every room twice to make absolute sure that she wasn’t anywhere in the safe house. I swore loudly, hearing a thump from the ceiling and another muffled cry for me to shut up. As much as I wanted to give this guy a piece of my mind, I had more pressing matters to attend to.

  I rummaged through my suitcase, grabbing my knife before running out the door. I slammed it shut behind me, feeling a slight tingle of vindication when angry shouting followed me out the second story window. The guy could suck it. I had to find Emily, or die trying.

  As angry as I was about her jeopardizing my mission, I was actually more worried than anything. Emily was the most sheltered person I’d ever met; I’d seen twelve-year-olds with more street smarts.

  There was no telling what she might get wrapped up in, wandering the streets. We were on a busy strip, and not in the best part of town. She could be lying dead in an alleyway somewhere already.

  Forcibly dismissing the thought as it entered my brain, I kept a firm hand on my knife, just in case. I tried to think where on earth my pretty little captive could have gone, wondering if she had perhaps gone somewhere to call her father. I didn’t give the thought much merit, but maybe she had decided she liked her original cage far more than the one I’d trapped her inside of.

  If I had just listened to her little request, if I had just gone out for one drink, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. That had to have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  That was when it hit me. Emily wasn’t vindictive enough to abandon me altogether, and truth be told, I had my suspicions that she planned to come back before I even noticed her absence. She wasn’t going back to her father. She was just entertaining her rebellious streak; I was sure of it.

  Jesus, she was in for an earful when I caught up with her. It was just a matter of finding her among the numerous bars on the strip. God forbid she had actually ventured beyond this small area. I might never find her.

  More importantly, she might never find her way back to me.

  My little prisoner may have snuck out successfully, but I was determined to find her. As much as I tried to tell myself that this was all for the sake of the mission, that I only cared about turning her in for a big reward, that wasn’t the only thing on my mind. If she was just a prize, it would have made no difference if I couldn’t find her. I wouldn’t be reprimanded that harshly, I was sure.

  Though I wanted to ignore the truth of the matter, there was no turning my back on my feelings. I was falling for Emily Madden, and not the fantasy version I had imagined before meeting her.

  I had fallen for her flaws, her little melodramatic theatrics, her innocence…I had fallen for those beautiful brown eyes, that soft brown hair. I had become smitten with every single facet of her being, and I didn’t want things to end. Not yet, not like that.

  As much as I should have been bothered by the revelation, I suppose it was made easier by the fact that it wasn’t news to me at all. Deep down, I’d felt something for Emily all the while. I knew it, and I was sure she had been just as aware. It hurt that she would betray me by running away like this, but it was something I could move past, as long as I could find her.

  I wasn’t fooling myself into thinking things could ever really work out between us. I knew that, as soon as the time came, I would be saying my final farewell to her. I couldn’t forget the mission. I couldn’t betray my life’s work.

  Shaking off the thoughts, I scanned the crowd outside the most popular bar on the strip. If she had decided to mingle with any of the civilians walking the streets that night, there was no doubt that she would have quickly chosen the place as her destination.

  I was losing hope quickly, but as I cast a final glance over the crowd, I spotted a familiar glimmer of gold. She was still wearing that goddam gaudy necklace. God forgive me for the verbal lashing I was about to give her.

  Before I could close the distance between us, I noticed two particularly sleazy-looking guys approaching Emily. I had no doubt that it was her they were going for; she stuck out like a sore thumb if you knew what you were looking for. These guys, I was sure, were looking for an easy target.

  I strode in their direction, spotting the look of trepidation that Emily turned towards the nearest of the men as he reached a hand out to touch her arm. Her expression morphed to one of terror, and I could only guess what the guy was saying to her.

  Forcing my way through the crowd, I came to a stop in front of Emily and the two sketchy guys. I brandished my knife confidently and almost casually, smiling wickedly as the men caught sight of me. Emily followed their gaze, looking torn between relief and an even deeper fear. No, not fear—she looked guilty. She had to have known that she’d hurt me.

  “Emily, baby, are you making some friends?” I asked cordially, stepping towards her and drawing her into my arms.

  I wrapped her in a warm embrace, ghosting my lips to her ear.

  “Play along. I mean it,” I whispered before kissing her on the cheek.

  “Baby, I’m so happy to see you!” she cried out, and I had no doubt that it was the absolute truth.

  It played into the plan well enough, and I scrutinized the men as they looked between Emily and me. The man who’d touched her arm smiled awkwardly, exposing a gold tooth.

  “Oh, we were just offering to show her around. You her, uh, boyfriend?” he stammered, taking a step back as I fixed him with a glare.

  “As a matter of fact, I am. It’s very kind of you to offer your…services, but I can assure you, they’re not needed,” I said coldly.

  “What did he say to you?” I asked, whispering the question into Emily’s ear.

  “He said…he said he would show me a good time. Whether I liked it or not,” Emily managed through her ragged breathing, pressing into my arms.

 
The thinly-veiled meaning in the man’s words was quite obvious, and it looked as if he was all too ready to flee the scene. His eyes were fixed on my knife, and he took a hesitant step back before meeting my gaze.

  “Did you say that to my girlfriend?” I asked, barely contained rage bubbling under the surface.

  He stuttered for a moment before turning his back on me and bolting away. His friend followed quickly behind him, and I released Emily, ready to chase them down. She kept a hand on my arm, though, causing me to pause.

  “Can we just go back to the safe…the safety of our apartment?” she implored, her voice strained.

  I noticed the near slip, and it only served to remind me just how much had been put at stake for this little act of defiance. Fortunately for her, the tears in her eyes made it impossible to remain angry.

  “Let’s go, baby,” I murmured, the pet name slipping out even though there was really no need to carry on the facade.

  Emily didn’t ask about it, scarcely seeming to notice. We walked back in silence, her hand gripped in my own.

  Chapter 17

  Emily

  Tears spilled freely down my cheeks as we walked the path back to the safe house, and though Owen clutched my hand, I knew he was silently preparing to reprimand me when we got home. Strange that the safe house felt more like a home than my old apartment ever had.

  I couldn’t get past the fact that I had not only gotten caught; I had hurt Owen in the process. I tried to catch his gaze, but he refused to look at me, keeping his eyes ahead even though I felt him squeeze my hand almost tenderly. In spite of how angry he might have been, I was comforted by the fact that he still seemed to care—even if it was just a little bit.

  Pulling open the door to the apartment, Owen gave me a gentle nudge inside. I allowed myself to be guided, making a miserable path to the sofa and collapsing onto it. He closed the door, leaning against it and letting out a sigh.

  He took a moment to shuffle over to his open suitcase, tucking his knife back into a hilt that had obviously been stuffed under his other things. I wondered if he felt as if he could trust me with the knowledge of where the knife was located, but then again, who could tell what I could be trusted with? I didn’t even trust myself anymore.

  Turning to face me, Owen appeared somewhat torn in that moment. He was still being the more responsible between us, but that was nothing new. Walking towards me, he lingered in front of me for a moment before sinking onto the couch beside me.

  He reached out to grip my hand again, and I inhaled a shuddering breath as I felt his warmth envelop me.

  “I’m so sorry, Owen. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but…I really and truly am so, so sorry,” I blubbered.

  He drew me closer, resting his chin atop my head. He rubbed my back, a steady up and down pattern that helped to soothe me. I closed my eyes, though sleep was the last thing on my mind. My body shook from the mixture of anxiety and adrenaline, but he didn’t seem to particularly mind.

  Owen was breathing slowly, in through his nose, and out through his mouth. His breath tickled the top of my head, and I realized that he was trying to guide my breathing.

  As I began to focus on regulating myself, the tears began to wane. The occasional hiccup escaped me, but once I had pulled myself together somewhat, Owen tilted his head down to meet my gaze. His breath was hot on my lips, and all I wanted in that very moment was to press forward and capture them with my own.

  I realized that wouldn’t be particularly well received, as it stood, but the desire lingered.

  “Do you know how dangerous that was?” he growled, his eyes locking on mine and refusing to break away.

  I shivered, feeling inexplicably excited by the low growl I could hear just under his breath. He was getting angry now that he felt it was safe enough to do so, and I couldn’t blame him. All the same, I felt safer with him than I ever had prior.

  “You could have been killed. The extreme jeopardy you put this mission in aside, you could have been killed, or worse. Do you not understand that?” he hissed.

  “I’m sorry about the mission,” I said, sniffling, but he only seemed to grow more agitated. He gripped me by the chin, refusing to let me look away, and my breath caught in my throat, my pulse quickening as I rested quaking hands on his shoulders.

  “Forget the mission! Did you not hear the rest of what I said, or are you choosing to ignore it? I know you’ve lived a sheltered life, Emily, but it’s time to start growing up. This is the real world, and it’s a dangerous place,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

  The sound of my pulse pounded in my ears, and I knew he was right. I had been afraid, but I hadn’t truly grasped just what could have happened to me. I liked to think that the world was better, that people were generally good at heart, but…

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry I put myself at risk. Nothing terrible happened, though. You saved me. You saved me again,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek.

  There was slight stubble along his cheeks and jawline, and the sensation of it beneath my fingertips was electric. His skin was so warm, his eyes so intense. For all his rough edges, I knew he had softness as well. His heart was warm, and his lips looked perfectly kissable.

  Unable to contain myself any longer, I closed the distance between us.

  Owen seemed startled at first, and considering the conversation we’d just had, it wasn’t hard to see why. I realized something suddenly, however, something that I thought I could be no more certain of than I already had been. It seemed that the handsome soldier was going to keep surprising me at every turn, even if he wasn’t aware of it. I knew it had never been his intent to drive me to the brink of sweet madness.

  I simply knew, in that moment, that I had never wanted to be with someone as badly as I wanted to be with Owen.

  Though his lips were still at first, it didn’t take long for him to give in to the emotion of the moment. He threw his arms around me—one gentle hand on the back of my head, the other nestled against the small of my back. I gripped at his shirt desperately, having no idea what to do with my hands. I wanted to touch, and I wanted to be touched, but I had no idea where to start.

  It was hard enough to think without his lips feverishly pressed to my own, but thinking logically while making out was apparently an impossibility.

  Feeling his tongue prod at my lips, I parted them obligingly and moaned as he deepened our embrace. I wondered if all kisses were this intense, this bone shaking, or if Owen was just particularly good at it.

  Either way, I was content to remain tightly grasped in his arms for an eternity.

  When he drew away, he immediately lowered his head to kiss my neck. It was like he was a man possessed, and I could do little but mewl and gasp as his teeth brushed my pulse point. He sucked lightly at the skin there, and I pressed him closer in a way that I hoped was encouraging. It was all happening so fast, and all at once, I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach.

  He shifted his hands to cup my ass, pulling me flush against him.

  “Owen,” I moaned out, and he growled gutturally, pushing me against the back of the couch.

  For a moment, I was sure he wouldn’t stop, he seemed so caught in the moment. When my hand ghosted against the front of his pants, however, he nearly jolted off of the couch. I stared at him, wondering if I’d done something wrong.

  “I…oh, Emily. I’m sorry. I just…I got swept up, and…” he trailed off, looking like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  I hesitated, trying to steady myself and breathe normally in place of the desperate gasps I was gulping down.

  “I would never push you into something like that, especially after…Christ, I’m sorry,” he said, tensing his hands into fists.

  I rested my hands on his own, trying to soothe his doubt. It was the last thing I wanted him to feel. I brought his hand to my cheek, urging him to touch me. After a moment, his hand relaxed and I pressed against his pal
m.

  “I’ve just…never done anything like that before. Everything was moving so fast, and I needed a moment to think. I didn’t think…I didn’t think you felt that way. I didn’t know you wanted me like I want you,” I said in a reverent whisper.

  He smiled gently, tracing his fingers down the column of my neck.

  “It would be a shame for me to just take your innocence in a burst of adrenaline on an uncomfortable couch,” he murmured.

  I giggled, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him in close again. When our lips touched this time, it was gentler. There was no rush. He seemed content to let me explore him, to move at my own pace. I parted his lips this time, exploring his warm and moist mouth with my tongue.

  He seemed to be struggling to keep his hands to himself, and after a moment, I drew away.

  “You’re right; that would be a shame,” I said quietly.

  I wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed—maybe both. I stood up, lingering a moment before inclining my head towards the bedroom.

  “You’re ready to sleep after all of that?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

  I shook my head, smiling shyly in spite of how bold I was being. He blinked, his cheeks turning the faintest tint pinker.

  “Not sleep. I’m not going to push you into anything, either. It’s just…I kind of made my mind up about this…a while ago,” I sputtered, trying not to melt under his stare.

  He rose from the sofa, tilting his head curiously for a moment.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked gently.

  I nodded, trying not to buckle at the knees. It would seem he sensed my dilemma, because in one swift motion, he swept me up into his arms.

  “Take me to bed,” I whispered.

  He acceded to my request with surprising tenderness, carrying me to the bedroom.

  Chapter 18