Grandfather's mouth tightened. “I'm not fine with the possibility that your brother might be injured or worse, but I respect the fact that he has chosen a purpose.”
“He's just using it to run away from you.” I couldn't keep the snark from my voice.
He ignored it. “Your brother has found a career path that he is excited about, and has decided he wants to pursue it outside of his trust fund money and my assistance. He's decided to make his own way in the world, and I'm proud of him.”
Tears burned my eyes. I didn't need him to say the opposite of me. “If you're so ashamed of me, then cut me off.”
I jumped off my stool and headed for the door, hoping he wouldn't see how much the conversation was hurting me.
“Leighton, I love you,” Grandfather said from behind me. “I'm giving you another chance.”
“You know what? I don't want it.” I slammed the kitchen door behind me.
Chapter 12
Haze
I caught Leighton trying to leave her grandfather's mansion. Again. She stood in the garage and stared at the two long rows of cars, a determined look on her face.
“Go for something with good gas mileage,” I said as I approached.
Leighton jumped at the sound of my voice, but she didn't look at me. “What? Why?”
“If you're thinking of running away, then you want to make sure you choose a car with good gas mileage. Can't be stopping to fill up when you're trying to get away.” I kept my tone mild.
I walked past her so I could turn and see her face. She was pale from more than just a hangover. She hadn't bothered to put on make-up, but it was more than that too. The look in her eyes wrapped an icy hand around my heart.
“What makes you think I'm running away?” she asked, her voice cold. “Just because I didn't tell you I was coming down here?”
I stepped closer, hoping she would look me in the eye. “I don't think you accomplished what you wanted to last night, so I assumed you were going to run off and try again today.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, but didn't stay. “And just what do you think I was doing last night?”
“You kept talking about self-destruct and rock bottom,” I said, matter-of-factly. “But you're still here, and Devlin decided not to disinherit you.”
“Did you convince him to give me another chance?” she asked.
The sharp slice of her eyes made me drop the hand I'd started to extend. I cocked my head. “You wanted him to cut you off.”
She glared at me for a moment. “I'm going to the beach house; you can drive.”
There were so many things I wanted to tell her, but I knew she wasn't ready to hear any of them. She needed time. So I drove and she looked far out the window, turned so far I couldn’t see her face.
I waited until we were nearly there before I spoke, “I was coming back.”
“Forget about it,” she said, not looking at me.
I didn't think that was possible.
“You said something about Paris and Ricky being back in town,” I said, trying to find some footing with her. “Are they meeting you at the beach house?”
She didn't say a word and I stopped trying to make her talk. When we arrived at the beach house, no one else was there. She hurried around, gathering her things. A scarf, a notebook, a pair of earrings, all the belongings she had scattered around over the past couple days. I watched her jam them all into a Louis Vuitton soft-sided bag.
My curiosity got the best of me. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Nowhere, according to my grandfather,” she said, her words clipped.
“Prove him wrong,” I said.
She stopped, turning to look at me. “Why do you care?”
“Because we both know you can do it.” I reached out for her again, but she stepped back. “You've never been an underdog, and acting like one is just making you crazy.”
“That's why you didn't come back, isn't it?” She sneered at me. “Because you thought I'd wake up and act all crazy. You want a nice, easy girl who's got it all figured out, and who doesn't come with any bad habits or baggage.”
Her accusations drove the air out of my lungs. She saw me speechless and circled through the beach house again making sure she left nothing behind. After a few more seconds of stunned silence, my paralysis broke and I chased her upstairs to the loft where there was nothing but a king-sized bed with white satin sheets.
I didn't get a chance to speak.
“That's why you couldn't face me in the morning. Your high and mighty morals told you it was the job or me, and you chose the job,” she said.
Shit. That wasn't how I wanted to say it. “Leighton, protecting you is important, especially now.”
“Especially now that I've proven myself to be unstable and trying to self-destruct?” she snapped.
“That doesn't help, but, no, there's more to it than that.” I jammed my hands in my pockets, my frustration growing.
“Then tell me,” she said. I clenched my fists inside my pockets, but she still saw the worried reflex. “You can't, can you?”
“Just like I can't jeopardize your safety because of my feelings,” I said quietly.
She gaped at me for several long seconds, and then we both heard the front door click.
“Don't have feelings for me,” she said quickly. “I don't want you.”
“Liar.” I dodged in front of her, but Ricky was calling from the main room.
I knew she was trying to push me away, and I couldn't let her. The threats against her life were real. Devlin had shared another letter he received just that morning, and it was a very clear death threat against Leighton. She needed my protection, and I needed her trust. If that meant confronting how we felt about each other, and being completely honest then I was willing to bare my soul to her. Even if it meant I'd never be anything more than a bodyguard to her.
The pain on her face was too sharp for her to cover up right away. “I'm not who you think I am.”
“You're better,” I insisted.
She pushed past me with a sharp elbow and went downstairs. I could hear her greeting Ricky, and to my pleasant surprise, it didn't sound like she was happy about it. “What the hell do you want?”
“To apologize, to grovel, to shower you with anything and everything you want.” Ricky's voice drifted up to me.
“To erase the image of you balls deep in Paris from where it’s seared into my mind?” Leighton asked.
Fuck me.
I started for the stairs.
“Just tell me how to do it.” Ricky dropped to his knees as I came down the stairs. “I'm too stupid. I pushed the whole 'open relationship' too far.”
“You really let this asshole talk you into that?” I stopped short of kicking Ricky as hard as I could.
Ricky stood up and sneered. “So it talks?”
“What if I don't want an open relationship anymore?” Leighton asked, drawing Ricky's attention to her.
“You want to be back together, exclusive?” Ricky said, his eyes lighting up. “Sure, yeah, we can try that. Please, babe, I love you.”
“Leighton, you deserve more than him,” I said. “This isn't love.”
She didn't even look at me as she wrapped her arms around Ricky's neck. My stomach dropped and I knew she wouldn’t listen to me.
“That's my girl,” Ricky said.
I could hear his smug smile.
“Now how about we go upstairs and let me show you how much I love you.”
I didn't even try to say anything to stop her as she let him lead her back up the stairs. Disgust filled me as I heard Ricky's empty promises and heavy compliments. The bastard didn't deserve her, and if I couldn't have her, she at least deserved someone better than him. Even as the sounds of them having sex filled the house, I reminded myself that it wasn't important. She'd made her choice and I'd made mine.
No matter what Leighton did or how it made me feel, I had to protect her.
Chapter 13
> Haze
It was a relief to walk into the hotel bar even if Devlin had requested I wear a suit. Anything was better than standing watch outside of the suite Ricky had reserved for them as some sort of gesture or apology. If he'd been a half-way decent boyfriend, I would've thought he'd chosen to spoil her this weekend to distract her from Ian's imminent departure. Ricky wasn't even half-way decent though, so I doubted that had been his reasoning.
Whatever the reason, Ian and Devlin had agreed to meet at the hotel for final goodbyes before Ian headed to the airport for his evening flight. At the moment, however, only Devlin was waiting for me.
“Haze, glad you're early,” Devlin said. He ordered us two whiskeys and sipped his before pulling a thin letter out of his jacket pocket. “Another one arrived this morning.”
I didn't bother to ask if he'd involved the police. He'd made it quite clear to me that the threats Leighton was receiving were to be handled in-house, by me. I hadn't had much luck so far, but I knew it'd take more than me suggesting it before Devlin involved the police. He knew as well as I did that they'd tell Leighton and that was the last thing he wanted.
“I'm hoping it'll be able to tell you something more about him. Something that might help us find him.”
I opened the letter and read it, then read it again. Like the others, there wasn't much in the way of quantity, but there were details about Leighton's life that I was disturbed he had. I shook my head. “Unless there's forensics on the letter, it's the same as the others. The details he's including make me think he's ramping up to something or he's trying to provoke us into reacting.”
“Love letter from back home?” Ian's voice came from behind us as he joined us at the bar.
“Wouldn't you like to know,” I said as I slipped the letter into my suit pocket.
Devlin gave Ian a smile, and then ordered another shot of whiskey for his grandson. “Here's to the man of the hour.”
“Some party,” Ian said as he looked around. “Just you two to send me off?”
The expression on his face told me that he knew why we were meeting here, and it wasn't because of its close proximity to the airport. None of the men in Leighton's life liked Ricky.
“Your sister is on her way,” Devlin said, shooting me a glance. “Hotel security is waiting to walk her down.”
I quickly changed the subject before Ian could ask why I wasn't the one waiting for her. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank me? You do realize that, without you, I never would have lived through my first tour, much less figured out how to earn a clean bill of health and be able to re-enlist,” Ian said.
“I'll drink to that,” I said and threw back my whiskey shot.
For the first time in weeks, a wave of vertigo hit me. The inner ear damage keeping me out of the army tipped the restaurant and the rest of the world into a spinning mess. I clenched every muscle and held on until the overwhelming feeling passed, cursing silently.
When it cleared, I was glad to see that neither Ian nor Devlin appeared to have noticed. Instead, they were both watching a scene unfold at the front of the bar. I turned slowly and saw Leighton arguing with the maitre d' as she tried to pull a bottle from his hands. Some of the liquid spilled on her too-short dress and she began berating him loud enough for everyone to hear.
Shit.
I made my way toward her as quickly as I dared.
“That tequila's more expensive than this dress and now you owe me both,” Leighton said.
“What's the problem?” I asked.
“She can't bring an open container into the restaurant,” the maitre d' said, his wide eyes full of apology. It was clear he was afraid to say no to such a well-paying guest, but it was against the law. His job was on the line either way. He was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place.
“I'm sure Ms. Machus understands that it's the law,” I said as I laced Leighton's arm through mine.
She swayed and bumped against me as I led her to the bar, a scowl on her face. At least she wasn't yelling anymore. We had enough attention on us as it was.
“You're late,” Devlin said.
“Congratulations, Ian.” Leighton hugged her brother even as she ignored their grandfather. “My little brother off to make us proud.” She patted his head.
“Thanks, Leighton.” Ian gave her a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
“She's drunk,” Devlin said, clearly disgusted by her behavior.
I kept my hand on Leighton's back as we headed to our table. Once there, she glared at me and plopped down in her seat. As the waiter came over, she immediately insisted on a bottle of wine to make up for the tequila she lost. I knew better than to tell her that she probably shouldn't have anymore to drink, but the look she gave me said she knew what I was thinking.
“We have to toast the brave soldier,” she said.
I glanced at Devlin and he gave me a slight nod. He apparently preferred to deal with a more intoxicated Leighton rather than the scene she would surely make if we stopped her.
Dinner was delicious, specially prepared by the chef himself, though no one paid much attention to their food. Devlin ate as precisely and neatly as always, but his expression was tight, his lips in a thin line. Ian barely ate anything, whether from nerves or eagerness, it was hard to tell. Leighton talked too loudly and sloshed red wine on the white tablecloth while essentially ignoring her meal. I ate as best I could, as much to show my appreciation for being included as anything else.
I couldn't help but wonder if I'd done the right thing. Should I have encouraged Ian to maybe go to college, find his own way there? He could've gone somewhere away from LA, chosen his own major and forged a path for himself. Had it been my own desire to re-enlist that had driven me to support Ian's decision? Or worse, had he seen my determination as a statement on himself, on what he should do? Had he chosen to re-enlist because of something I'd said or done?
I looked over at him and his eyes met mine. His gaze was serious and I read there everything I needed to know. He'd chosen this on his own. I might've supported his decision, helped him figure out what he needed to do to make it happen, but it had been his choice.
“I'd like to make a toast,” I said, before I realized the words were heading toward my mouth. I swallowed and held up my glass. “Ian, I did my duty when I got you out of the line of fire, but more than that, I know I did the right thing. I didn't have the honor of knowing your parents, but I know they'd be proud of you and the man you've become. Just like I know your family loves you. Remember that. Remember them. No matter what other reasons may exist for choosing to serve, always remember that one. You're protecting the people you love, and that's always the right thing to do.”
I caught Leighton's eyes before she blinked and her expression rolled away. She giggled and missed her first grab for her wine glass. Still, there'd been something in that flash of her eyes. I barely kept myself from frowning. Was she faking her intoxication?
“I'll drink to that,” Devlin said. “I'm so proud of you, Ian, and as Haze said, your parents would've been too. Not happy. No, I'm still angry you're leaving and endangering yourself again, but I am proud. You need to go and find your way and know that I love you.”
Leighton raised her glass, but said nothing, her eyes fixed on her brother.
“I know,” Ian said softly. “I love you too.”
We all took solemn drinks from our glasses, the atmosphere shifting around us. Ian's phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. Even though he didn't smile, the excitement was clear on his face, in his eyes.
“On that note, my ride's waiting.”
We all stood to walk him out, Leighton neatly avoiding me as she linked arms with her brother. The move seemed too calculated, too smooth. She smelled of tequila, but enough had spilled on her dress to cover up if she'd actually drank any or not. I'd been watching her at dinner, and even though she'd raised her glass to drink more than once, I was pretty sure she hadn't drank more than half
a glass the entire time. Now, as I watched her sway with him to the front of the hotel, I was more convinced with every step that she was faking her intoxication.
Was it so hard for her to express genuine emotion that she had to create a reason she couldn't do it properly? Or was she still stuck on her self-destruct course, so determined to ruin her life that she'd deliberately make a fool of herself now?
The entrance to the hotel was crowded, so I went first, pushing through to the semi-circular drive out front. Leighton kissed her brother's cheek before stepping back. I shook his hand, then watched as Devlin embraced his grandson. The realization of what Ian was doing, the sort of danger I knew he'd be exposed to, all of it hit me hard enough to make my chest hurt.
For the first time in my life, I realized I'd been completely clueless when it came to being on the other side of things. I'd always assumed that it wasn’t easy for my mother and sister, but that they were used to it since I wasn't the only one in my family who'd served. Only now did I understand a small part of what they'd felt being the ones left behind. I didn't even want to think about how things would be if Ian were my brother or my son.
When we got back to the house, the first thing I was going to do was call my mom. I usually talked to her on Sunday afternoons, but I needed to hear her voice. Needed to tell her how thankful I was for her.
But first, I needed to talk with Leighton about her little act. Except when I turned around, I couldn't see her anywhere. I turned my head slowly, scanning every inch around me. The crowded sidewalk, the busy hotel, the bustling street, and the line of town cars and taxis made it impossible to tell which direction she had gone.
Dammit!
I should have said something earlier. I should have known she would never have actually come to see Ian off drunk. She'd wanted to disappear and now she was gone.
Every sound was too loud, every light too bright. My senses assaulted my near-panicked mind. I had to stay calm though, had to keep myself together. This, I knew, was the problem with me having feelings for Leighton. She affected my ability to keep my head together.
Behind me, I was dimly aware of Devlin calling her name, but I didn't acknowledge him. Instead, I divided the area into quadrants and scanned again for her red curls, the part of her that would stand out the most in a crowd. I took mental images of each section as I went.