The Walls of Troy

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The Walls of Troy Page 14

by L. A. Witt


  My lip stung, but the softness of his kiss was too addictive to stop. I ran my fingers through his hair, breathed in his scent, and let myself get completely lost in him. I was hard, and so was he, but neither of us moved to take this beyond a kiss. We didn’t need to. My head spun enough from this alone.

  I broke the kiss and touched my forehead to his, wincing slightly as his skin brushed the bruise and glued cut, reminding me of what had happened earlier. And why. God, who in the world would ever want to hurt him? I held him tighter, as if I could somehow protect him from everyone and everything. As if we weren’t playing with fire by getting close when someone dangerously possessive and territorial lurked out there somewhere.

  Damn it.

  I made myself pull back completely and looked in his eyes. His black-ringed blue eyes with the pupils blown and the shadowed lids heavy. “We shouldn’t…”

  “I know.” He ran his tongue across his lips. Sighing, he loosened his embrace, and we both sat back. “I want to, but we so shouldn’t. And…” He shook his head. “You should be resting anyway.”

  Well, that was good an excuse as any to pry ourselves apart.

  He cleared his throat and surreptitiously adjusted the front of his jeans. “Maybe after we’ve had some sleep and some coffee tomorrow, we can figure out where to go from here.”

  I didn’t know if he meant with regard to whatever the hell we were doing, or addressing his ex, or both, but either way, I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  “Okay.” He looked down. “Talos. Come on.”

  The huge dog groaned, startling me because I’d forgotten he was even there, and pushed himself to his feet.

  Troy met my eyes again. “Good night, Iskander.”

  “Good night.”

  We exchanged another long look, and then he and Talos left.

  I settled into the guest room but still couldn’t sleep. Now that everything had died down for the night, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had led up to me lying here in Admiral Dalton’s house with a mild concussion, a cut on my forehead, and two burns from a Taser’s alligator clips. Worse, I couldn’t stop thinking about how things could have gone down.

  What if Troy had been with me? Though the current from the Taser lasted only five seconds—the longest five seconds of my life, but still only five seconds—that was five seconds I was completely defenseless, and completely unable to stop anyone from hurting Troy. If he’d been walking with me, and the ex had been convinced we were dating, what would he have done to him?

  And my God, even if the ex didn’t touch him and only assaulted me, Troy didn’t need to see that. He was rattled enough from the aftermath.

  I rubbed a hand over my face, carefully avoiding the cut and the throbbing bruise. It was hard to believe all this had happened on the same night Troy and I had crossed into territory that was dangerous enough without a psychotic ex-boyfriend lurking behind the scenes. Goddammit. And if I had known then that we were dealing with a jealous, territorial ex, would I still have given in to that kiss?

  Of course I would have.

  Dangerous or not, the only thing surprising about that part of tonight’s insanity was that it hadn’t already happened. And now… Shit.

  I was a mess of feelings I had no business having for Troy. I was rattled and bruised thanks to an ex who didn’t want to let go of someone he had no right to have.

  Fuck. I’d known from the start that I was in over my head.

  But I’d never counted on any of this.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, my body was predictably sore. My forehead was tender, and I still felt like I’d had my ass handed to me, but I felt better than I had a few hours ago. If anything, I was exhausted from a restless night.

  I made my way from the guest room into the kitchen, where the MAs had been given unlimited access to the high-capacity coffeemaker. Someone had already put the coffee on, thank God, so I poured myself a cup and sipped it black.

  My head was throbbing a little, and half a cup of coffee wasn’t helping, so I fished a fresh icepack out of the freezer and carefully pressed it against the bruise. The pressure wasn’t pleasant, but the cold was nice, and the throbbing slowly subsided.

  “How are you feeling?” Troy’s voice startled me.

  When I turned around, my breath caught. He stood in the doorway, arms folded loosely across a plain black T-shirt. The usual dark rings of kohl around his eyes were gone, with only the faintest smoky smudge left behind to imply they’d ever been there at all. His damp hair was finger-combed to the side instead of meticulously spiked and styled, and a few strings hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes.

  “I’ll live,” I said. “What about you?”

  He gave a taut shrug. “I’m not the one who kissed the pavement.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah.” He came all the way into the kitchen. “I’m okay, all things considered.” He took a deep breath. “So, what do you think we should do now? After last night?”

  Probably not be alone together in the same room…

  I cleared my throat. “Well, I don’t think the plainclothes approach is working. This jackass doesn’t think I’m your bodyguard. He thinks I’m your boyfriend. He needs to believe there’s nothing between us, and my presence needs to be a deterrent. Maybe if he sees me as a cop instead of…”

  Our eyes met, but we both quickly broke away.

  “You’re probably right.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “We just have to make it obvious that you’re there as protective detail, not…” His eyes darted toward me.

  I swallowed. “Some stalkers can see a guard as a challenge. Or an acknowledgment that he’s gotten under your skin.”

  “I know Ben.” He shuddered. “He couldn’t give two shits about me having protective detail as long as I don’t touch someone. The biggest problem is if he sees me with someone in uniform.”

  I cocked my head. “You just said he doesn’t care about protective detail.”

  “He doesn’t.” Troy sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “The thing is, Ben knows I have a serious thing for military guys. That’s all I’ve ever dated.”

  “Is that why you wanted me in plainclothes?”

  Without looking up, he nodded. “I mean, of course there’s nothing that says I won’t date a civilian. But he knows me. He knows my kinks. If there’s a Sailor or a Marine or anybody so much as talking to me, then…”

  “So if he sees you with an armed guard in uniform…”

  Troy finally met my gaze. “What if it’s not the same guard every time?”

  I adjusted the icepack against my head. “So, rotating two or three of us?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That could work.” I lowered the icepack for a moment. “Except that means explaining the situation to your father.”

  He shuddered again, closing his eyes.

  “Troy.” I leaned forward and grasped his arm. “I’m not suggesting this is easy, but I think you need to at least partially come clean to your father.”

  Throwing up his hands, Troy pulled away. He stood and started pacing. “No. I can’t tell him. I fucking—”

  “He doesn’t…” I hesitated. “He doesn’t have to know who it is. But maybe if he knows there is an individual targeting you…”

  “How do I explain that?”

  “I…fuck, I don’t know.”

  He thought for a moment. “I guess I could tell him it was a one-night stand who doesn’t want to back off. I don’t know the guy’s name and I don’t know where he came from. Only that he won’t leave me alone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Troy’s piercings glinting in the warm light as he lifted his eyebrows. “Can you think of any other cover stories?”

  “No, but…
” I stood and stepped closer to him. “I just…”

  “If you’re worried about me telling my dad I’ve had anonymous one-night stands with shady guys…” He shrugged. “It’s better than the alternative.”

  “Right. I mean, I don’t condone lying to your father or to my commanding officer as a general rule, but in this case…”

  He nodded, lowering his gaze.

  “Tell him last night rattled you. It was just some random jackass trying to steal shit from our cars, but it made you think, and now you want to step up your security a bit.”

  “Okay. Let’s go do this now before I talk myself out of it.”

  I finished my coffee, and we left the kitchen in silence. Troy led the way to Dalton’s private study on the second floor, where we found him sitting at his giant desk in civvies.

  “Hey, Dad?”

  Dalton looked up and sat straighter. “Troy. MA1.”

  “Sir,” I said with a slight nod.

  “How are you feeling, MA1?”

  “I’m all right, sir.” I glanced at Troy. “But we wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”

  “I see.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Anything in particular on your minds?”

  I turned to Troy, eyebrows up. He gulped, then faced his father. “I don’t think the guy who attacked Iskander was just a random car prowler.”

  Dalton barely moved, but the tension in his posture was palpable. “What do you mean?”

  “I…” Troy closed his eyes, exhaled, then set his shoulders back and looked his father in the eye. “I hooked up with a guy a few months ago. At a club. And he, uh, apparently doesn’t want to take no for an answer.”

  “What?” Dalton’s face reddened, and he reached for the phone on his desk. “Give me his name. I’m having him arrested.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know where he lives. I don’t…” Troy’s face turned red, and he broke eye contact with his father. “I don’t even know his real name.”

  Dalton blinked. He took his hand off the phone, folded both of them on the blotter, and stared up at his son. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I…have no idea who he actually is.”

  “Then how do you know it’s him?”

  Troy squirmed under his father’s scrutiny. “I’ve seen his face a few times recently. On campus. I even thought I saw him in front of the neighbor’s house. And I think he thinks there’s something going on with Iskander and me.”

  Dalton’s lips parted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Troy swallowed. “Because I didn’t want to tell you I’d done something that stupid.”

  The admiral exhaled, making that disappointed sound my own father had often made when I was a kid, and I couldn’t help cringing. “Troy, your personal life is your business, but for God’s sake, if someone is threatening you, I need to know about it.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  Dalton scowled. “So if we don’t know how to find this idiot, what do either of you suggest?” His gaze darted toward me.

  Troy folded his arms. “Maybe having a plainclothes bodyguard isn’t such a good idea. And maybe if it’s different guys, like Iskander one day, and Fowler another day—it’ll make him think—realize—Iskander’s just my bodyguard.”

  I nodded. “I need to be a more deterring presence. Whoever’s fucking with him needs to know what he’s messing with.”

  Dalton gnawed his lip. “And what if he’d known last night that you were a cop? That might not have been a Taser he hit you with.”

  “If he’d really wanted to do some damage, he would have. I think he was just trying to spook me. Or Troy.”

  The admiral shuddered. To me, he said, “And you think a uniformed guard will help deter this idiot? And rotating you with one or two other guards?”

  I nodded. “I think so.” I hope so. “Now that someone’s actually shown up on the property, I think it would be a good idea to step up security around the house. Motion sensors, things like that.”

  He thumbed his chin for a moment, eyes unfocused. “Good idea. I realize it’s your day off, MA1, but I may need your help with coordinating some of this.”

  “Absolutely, sir. I’d be happy to help.”

  “Thank you, MA1.”

  Max, Dalton, and I spent most of the day adapting the security detail to the new—though not completely accurate—information. Rather than waiting for the Navy to approve or deny any additional equipment, Dalton sent us to Home Depot with his credit card and ordered us to spare no expense. Motion sensors, CCTV cameras, anything that could possibly make the home more secure. He was surprisingly good with electronics and such, too—he helped us install the new equipment throughout the property, and by the end of the day, his house probably could’ve given Fort Knox a run for its money.

  After we’d finished installing two sets of baseball-stadium-style lights in the driveway—no one was sneaking up on anyone by those parked cars now—we called it a day.

  “That’s enough of that.” Max pulled on his jacket. “I’m going to go have a beer. You in?”

  “No, that’s okay. Actually, I should probably go up and talk to Troy.”

  Max cocked his head. “It’s a weekend, MA1. You’re off duty.”

  “I know, but Troy and I didn’t finish studying last night, so…”

  “You really are taking these classes seriously, aren’t you?”

  “Well, the old man’s making sure I get credit, so I don’t have much choice.”

  “True.” He clapped my shoulder. “Do your homework, then, man.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I laughed, but it was forced. Max headed home, and I left the security office to go upstairs.

  To study? Did I really think I had the brain capacity for that tonight? Not a chance.

  But after spending all day securing the house from the psycho ex-boyfriend, I had this irrational and irresistible need to check on him. To make sure he was all right.

  Is that all it is, Iskander? Really?

  All the way up the stairs, my heart was racing. My stomach twisted and flipped. This was a bad idea. Of course it was. But I went anyway, and before I could convince myself not to, I tapped my knuckle on his bedroom door.

  When it opened, my heart stopped.

  Studying? Checking on him? Not a chance.

  I just wanted to see him, and now there he was. He still didn’t have on any makeup, and his loose T-shirt and low-slung jeans were just…

  I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I, uh, just wanted to let you know we’ve reinforced the whole property. They’re still working on the surveillance cameras, but I don’t think anyone will be getting anywhere near the place without getting caught.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He smiled. “Thanks.”

  I returned the smile. “It’s my job.”

  “I guess it is.” He gestured over his shoulder. “So, um, as long as you’re here, should we do some studying?”

  Do you really think either of us will get anything done?

  “We do have an exam coming up, don’t we?”

  Troy nodded and moved aside.

  And against my better judgment, I stepped into the room. The door clicked shut behind us, ratcheting my heartbeat upward.

  We faced each other, and I swore I could feel his heart pounding too. Without the eyeliner, the effect wasn’t quite as pronounced, but his eyes were definitely wide, his pierced eyebrows pulled together beneath his creased forehead.

  Then he coughed into his fist and broke eye contact. With a halfhearted laugh, he said, “Well, I guess I could think of worse things than constantly having uniformed cops around.”

  “You really are into military guys, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty.”

  “Is that…”

  He met my eyes. “What?”
/>   I swallowed, and then shook my head. “It’s probably not that important right now.”

  Troy shrugged. “Just say it anyway.”

  I hesitated. “You’re into military guys. Is that why…” I gestured at him, then me.

  For the first time since last night, his lips pulled into a genuine, if shy, smile. “I’ve only seen you in uniform the one time. To be honest, I’d pretty much forgotten you were military.”

  “So this…” I hesitated, and then gave a cautious grin. “So this isn’t just me pushing your uniform buttons?”

  Troy laughed. “No, I guess it isn’t.”

  “Any idea what it is?”

  “Not a clue.” He held my gaze. “You?”

  I shook my head, and when I stroked his cheek, he pressed against my hand.

  What was this? Dangerous. That’s what it was. Fucking dangerous.

  My heart sank. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him against me, ignoring the way this contact made some of my fresh scrapes and bruises smart.

  “I don’t want to put you at risk,” he said. “And I don’t want to put myself at risk. But I also…this…”

  “You don’t want to stop?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t wanted to get near anybody since I broke up with Ben. But with you…”

  My chest ached just thinking about him keeping the world at arm’s length. He deserved so much better than that.

  Every bit of training I ever had and every cop instinct I possessed screamed at me that this was a bad idea of epic proportions. But as I looked into Troy’s eyes, even the lingering pain from his psycho ex bouncing my head off the pavement couldn’t keep me from stepping closer. Or wrapping my arms around him. Or pulling him right up against me.

  “For what it’s worth, I’d stay even if we hadn’t…if things hadn’t, uh, escalated between us last night…” I cleared my throat and held him a little tighter. “I came here to keep you safe. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “I know.” He drew back enough to look up at me. “You’re the only one besides my father who’s taken this seriously from the beginning. That’s why…” He dropped his gaze. “That’s why I trusted you more than the others.” A faint smile pulled at his lips. “Maybe that’s why I let myself get closer to you than I probably should have.”

 

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