The Walls of Troy

by L. A. Witt

  “That’s not good,” Troy murmured. We exchanged uneasy glances and both jogged after him.

  The other three dogs were going crazy too, jumping on the front door and barking their heads off.

  MA1 Johnson ordered the dogs down, but they didn’t listen.

  “Is this normal?” I asked.

  Troy shook his head. “No. They’re not like this at all unless there’s something out in the yard.”

  I turned to Johnson. “We’d better go check it out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Johnson and I drew our weapons and exited the rear door of the house while MA2 Paulson and MA2 Hicks went out the front. He went first, and I stayed close on his tail, eyes peeled and weapon at the ready. We circled the huge house, shining bright flashlights into every shadow and crevice.

  All the while, my heart was going crazy. It always did in situations like this—God knew who or what was out here, and what might happen if my light revealed a person instead of an empty shadow—but I’d already been almost shaking with adrenaline and oh shit and what the fuck is going on? before the dogs had even started barking.

  At least the dogs were in the house with Troy. I didn’t want them anywhere near me anyway, and he was much safer with them than alone. And he was probably safer with some space between me and him. Maybe that’d be a chance for us to come to our senses and realize we were being fucking idiots.

  After going all the way around the house and checking the fence line several times over, we met the other two MAs on the front porch.

  “Anything?” Johnson asked.

  They both shook their heads.

  “Didn’t see a damned thing.” MA2 Paulson holstered his weapon. “If there was anybody out here, they’re long gone.”

  “Or up a tree,” MA2 Hicks muttered. “Fucking cats.”

  “Better a false alarm than the real thing.” Johnson nodded toward the door. “Back inside.”

  In the house, Dalton and Troy waited by the staircase. The dogs were still alert, but not so agitated now. Talos sat beside Troy at the bottom of the stairs, and one of the other three was playing with a bright orange ball.

  As Johnson shut and dead-bolted the door, I holstered my own weapon. “There’s nothing out there.”

  Troy laughed dryly, patting Talos’s neck. “Guess one of them heard a cat or something.”

  “Are you absolutely sure?” Dalton folded his arms tightly across his chest. “They’re not usually like this.”

  Johnson shook his head. “There’s nothing. We scoured the entire property and went around the exterior of the house multiple times. If there was someone or something out there? It’s long gone now.”

  Dalton fidgeted uncomfortably, but then released a breath. “All right. Well, thank you, gentlemen.”

  “Just doing our job, sir,” Johnson said.

  The other MAs returned to the security office with one of the dogs underfoot, and Admiral Dalton headed back upstairs with the second at his heels.

  Talos stayed beside Troy, but Charlie whined and scratched at the door.

  “Charlie.” Troy snapped his fingers. “Knock it off.”

  She whined again.

  Troy rolled his eyes. “Silly dog.”

  I glanced at her. “Are you sure she’s not hearing something else?”

  “Nah, she’s just wound up.” He tousled Talos’s ears. “If it was a cat, she probably wants to get out there and chase it.”

  “Or eat it.”

  “Nah.” He patted Talos. “One of the others, maybe, but this one would rather play with it than eat it.”

  “And cats like playing with mice, so…”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Mmhmm. Well, either way, with them around”—I nodded toward Talos—“it’s probably good you and your dad don’t have a cat.”

  “True. There’d never be a minute of peace around here.”

  “Probably not.”

  Stilted silence fell, and Troy cleared his throat. “So, um, I guess we should call it a night. Somehow I doubt we’re going to get much studying done.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Probably, my ass. We both knew what would happen if we found ourselves alone again.

  Our eyes locked for a moment, but I quickly looked away. No sense taking the chance of Johnson or the admiral wandering back in and catching on that things had gotten…inappropriate between us.

  “I should go.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll see you Monday.”

  Troy smiled. “Yeah. See you then.”

  We shared a long look that was as close as we were going to get to a good-night kiss, especially since even one kiss would mean I wasn’t leaving any time soon.

  Then I turned to go before I gave in and indulged in that long kiss and whatever came after it. We exchanged one last glance, and then Troy closed the door behind me and turned the dead bolt.

  No more of him until Monday?

  I supposed that was a good thing. Maybe I could bring my brain back to earth and remind myself of all the reasons I had no business knowing what kind of kisser he was.

  On the way down the steps, I slid my hands into my pockets. I was jittery all over, my stomach still fluttery and my heart still racing, and it was only partially from the jolt of adrenaline that came from scouring the property for a potential suspect. Troy’s kiss was still lingering on my lips, and I alternated between kicking myself for doing it and kicking myself for ending it. It was highly inappropriate. But hot. So, so hot.

  But such a bad idea. I was supposed to be guarding him, but goddamn, if we’d been left to our own devices and not interrupted by those damned dogs, I’d have been naked with him by now. Or well on my way—Troy had been so deliciously unhurried, he probably could’ve made everything last all night. A long kiss was something to be enjoyed, not an express ticket to an orgasm.

  As I stepped off the staircase and onto the walk leading toward my car, I shivered. Judging by the way Troy enjoyed kissing, I had a feeling he was the kind of guy who’d appreciate a long, enthusiastic blowjob. I could just imagine—

  Light on broken glass stopped me in my tracks.

  The shards were scattered by the front tire of Johnson’s car, and they hadn’t been there earlier, I was sure of it.

  Moving only my eyes, I looked around, searching for movement and shadows that didn’t belong.

  I took a step back toward the house.

  Before my foot landed, gravel crunched under someone else’s shoe.

  Shit!

  Out of nowhere, in the space of a heartbeat…

  Something bit into my shoulder. Another, my hip.

  And then I was facedown on the ground, every muscle excruciatingly tight as a million fists pummeled me from head to toe. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight back.

  Over my own cry of pain, I heard an all too familiar crackling noise. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what it was and what was happening, and why I had no control over my own limbs.

  The crackling ceased. The fists stopped.

  I immediately tried to get up, and heard my nonlethal-weapons instructor’s voice—

  “Someone Tases you, you need to stay down for at least ten seconds.”

  —a split second before the world went black.

  My vision started to clear, and then a tremendous pressure materialized between my shoulder blades.

  The dogs were going crazy in the house, barking their heads off and scratching at the front door, and for the first time in my life, I prayed for someone to turn the dogs loose.

  My assailant leaned down, pressing harder on my back. “Don’t make a—”

  Yeah, fuck that.

  I swung my elbow to the side, connecting with his gut, and was rewarded with a deep grunt. Another swing, and he toppled o
ff me.

  “Need some help out here!” I shouted toward the house as I scrambled up.

  He lunged at me, smacking my face against the side of my car before he pinned me down again, but the damage was done.

  The floodlights came on. Shouts. Activity.

  A door flew open. The barking was even louder now. Claws on concrete.

  My assailant swore under his breath, and then he was gone. Footsteps faded down the driveway.

  Three of the dogs ran past me, barking into the night.

  The fourth stopped beside me.

  I looked up. Talos looked down at me. For the first time in my life, the sight of a gigantic dog brought my heart rate down. He lowered his huge head and sniffed me.

  “Hey, buddy.” I pushed myself up on shaking arms.

  Oh shit.

  There was blood on the pavement. A lot of it.

  I touched the side of my head, and my fingers came back red. I spat, and more blood landed on the ground.

  “Iskander?” Johnson shouted. “Where are—”

  “Over here.” I sat up and leaned against my car, draping a shaky arm over Talos’s neck. The Taser’s effects hadn’t lasted long, but my head throbbed, and I was shaking with adrenaline as I called out again, “I’m over here.”

  He came around the back of the car, gun drawn. “Oh shit. You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I wiped blood off my mouth. “He went that way. Didn’t get a look at him.”

  “Don’t worry about him. The other MAs and the dogs will chase him down.” He holstered his weapon and knelt beside me. “Jesus, are—”

  “I’m fine. Looks worse than it is.” I hope. “Fucker wouldn’t have even gotten this far with me if he hadn’t Tased me first.”

  “He Tased… Jesus.” Johnson turned around. “Get him some ice, and get an ambulance.”

  I turned just as the admiral came around the back of the car the same way Johnson had. “Oh my God. Troy, call 911. Now!” He squatted beside me and touched my shoulder. “What happened?”

  “Car prowler or something.” Johnson shined a light on my head, probably checking the wound. “Got him with a Taser. He needs to go to the hospital.”

  I didn’t protest. The Taser wasn’t lethal, of course, but we were all under strict instruction to get checked out if we ever got hit with one. And with the amount of blood on my shirt, my hand, the pavement, and in my mouth, I had a feeling I was going to need a few stitches.

  Troy appeared, cell phone pressed to his ear, and in the floodlights, he paled. “Oh fuck.”

  Dalton stood. “Here. Give me the phone.”

  Troy handed it to him, then knelt where his father had been a second before. “What happened?”

  “Car prowler.” I swallowed, wincing at the taste of blood. “Don’t worry. It looks worse than it is.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He just knocked me around. And the son of a bitch Tased me.”

  “He—” Troy blinked. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Yeah. I know that sound anywhere.”

  Troy didn’t just lose a little color.

  He went white.

  Chapter Twelve

  I felt like shit.

  The effects of the Taser had worn off quickly, but my body still ached from getting my ass handed to me. The side of my mouth was sore where I’d bitten the inside of my cheek. On the other hand, at least I hadn’t bitten my tongue. And the doc had decided the cut on my forehead could be super-glued instead of stitched, which was a plus. The blood loss has been alarming, but it was just one of those head wounds that looked way worse than it was and bled like I’d ruptured a goddamned artery.

  Still, I was laid up in a hospital bed with half a dozen leads attached to my chest while a monitor beeped incessantly beside me.

  Standard protocol after being Tased was a trip to the ER for an ECG to make sure it hadn’t fucked up my heart, and that meant lying here, bored off my ass and trying not to replay what had happened out there tonight. I’d go back there when I tried to sleep later—might as well not think about it now.

  On the bright side, a nurse, God bless the woman, had brought me an icepack, which I kept pressed against my forehead. Eyes closed, I held it against the side of my face while the ECG did its thing.

  The medic had taped a gauze pad over the cut on my forehead. It stopped the steady trickle of blood down the side of my face, but the pressure against the throbbing wound was less than pleasant and getting more irritating by the minute.

  The worst part, though, was I couldn’t get Troy out of my mind. When he’d heard the word “Tased,” he hadn’t just reacted like he was stunned that someone had actually assaulted me with a nonlethal weapon. There’d been enough blood all over me and the pavement to dull that revelation.

  No, he’d gone from zero to oh fucking shit in way too little time. Something about that had triggered something in his mind. I was afraid to ask what it was but pretty damned certain he wouldn’t tell me anyway. When he wanted to be, Troy was one hell of a closed book.

  Except when he wanted something, apparently.

  I shivered, goose bumps prickling along my back and arms. Maybe I’d hit my head harder than I thought, because I swore I remembered making out with Troy up against his bedroom door just seconds before the dogs had lost their minds. So much for keeping things professional. So much for anything I’d thought from the beginning of this whole clusterfuck.

  Someone stepped into the room, and I opened my eyes.

  The doctor glanced at my chart. “How are we feeling, Mr., um…”

  “Iskander.”

  “Isk—what?”

  I waved a hand. “Ayhan. Let’s just go with Ayhan.”

  “Right. Ayhan. How are you feeling?”

  “Like somebody played basketball with my head and tried to fry my brain.”

  He grimaced. “Well, you’re pretty lucky, all things considered.”

  “That’s encouraging.”

  He sat beside the bed and ran me through the usual procedures to check for traumatic brain injury. Having me track movement with my eyes. Checking pupil dilation. Asking my mother’s name and various other bits of information that were committed to memory. Then he closed my chart and stood.

  “I do want to keep you hooked to the ECG for a while longer, just to make sure there’s no arrhythmia or other anomalies. From the looks of it, the shock didn’t cause or exacerbate any problems, and I don’t see any signs of anything more than a very mild concussion, so I don’t see any reason to keep you as long as your heart rate stays steady.”

  “That’s good to hear.” The fucker rang my bell, but he hadn’t actually given me a concussion. Or at least not much of one. At this point, I was willing to call that a win.

  He grunted quietly and nodded. “You’re lucky, Mr. Ayhan. I want you to take it easy for a few days. Nothing strenuous. No driving, if you can help it.” He nodded toward the door. “There’s someone here who says he’ll drive you home. A Mr.—” He opened my chart again.

  “Dalton?”

  He nodded and closed the chart. “Yes. Dalton. He’s in the waiting room. Shall I send him in?”

  “Sure. Isn’t like I’m going anywhere for a little while.”

  He smiled. “Not too much longer. I promise. A bit more time on that ECG just to be sure, and then I think you’ll be fine.”

  He left the room, and not two minutes later, Admiral Dalton walked in. And right on his heels…

  Fuck, Troy. I don’t know if I can breathe with you here.

  Dalton stood beside the bed, eyeing the monitors. “How are you feeling?”

  I adjusted the icepack. “Like I just got intimately acquainted with your driveway.”

  He scowled. “And the Taser?”

  I shrugged. “Didn’t do much. Left a co
uple of burns where the alligator clips bit me, but it just stunned me for a few seconds.”

  “Good. Good. And your head?”

  I lowered the icepack. “I’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but I’ll be all right.”

  His scowl didn’t falter at all. “Are you sure that cut doesn’t need stitches?”

  “The doc said this is enough.” I waved a hand at my forehead. “Wouldn’t have minded if he’d numbed it or something, though.”

  He didn’t laugh. “When are they releasing you?”

  “They want me on the heart monitor a little longer.” I pointed at the screen beside me. “But they said they’ll let me go once the doc is sure the Taser didn’t fuck up my heart.” I half shrugged. “Standard procedure.”

  “Well, all right, then.” He pushed his shoulders back and locked eyes with me. “I feel terrible about this, MA1. Why don’t you stay in our home tonight?”

  I gnawed my lip. As much as I desperately wanted to barricade myself in my apartment and sleep in my own bed, the idea of staying in their house—with round-the-clock security and four very large, loud dogs—sounded pretty good too. As long as the dogs stayed in another room, anyway.

  And even with a concussion that was so mild it barely warranted noting, it was probably wise for me to stay with people tonight.

  “Okay. Thank you, sir.”

  “Right.” He gave a slight nod. “I’m going to go get some coffee. Do either of you want any?”

  I waved a hand. “I’m good.”

  “No, thanks,” Troy muttered. As his father left the room, Troy sat in the chair beside the bed, hugging himself, but not tight enough to still the trembling.

  “Troy. What’s going on?” I reached for his hand. “If there’s more to this than you’ve told me, I need to know. I can’t protect you from a phantom.”

  He lowered his gaze, and I thought he might’ve shuddered before he whispered, “I’m sorry. I should’ve…”

  “You’re scared. It’s okay. But, there is something more to this than you’ve told me, isn’t there?”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “Yes, there’s more going on.”

  I moistened my lips. “Tell me.”