Big Bad Marine

by Jackie Ashenden

  The other man’s smile didn’t falter. “What about her?”

  Ah, so he was going for denial was he? Yeah, he could try.

  West gave him a smile of his own, letting Ian see the edge in it, the fury that he didn’t bother to hide. “I think you know what I’m talking about, motherfucker.” He raised his gun. “Though, if you need some help remembering, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  Ian glanced from West to the gun and back again, the fear glittering a bit brighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  West looked into the other man’s eyes, held his gaze, let his smile widen. “Oh, I think you do.” Then he lifted one hand, took his erstwhile friend by the throat, and shoved him hard against the back wall of the elevator.

  Ian made a choked sound, scrabbling at West’s fingers around his throat, but West only gripped him tighter and got in his face, his gun lifted and pointing at Ian’s temple. “Carly. My sister,” he said slowly and distinctly. “The one you asked out to a bar, knowing she was underage. The one who joined you even though I told her not to. The one you fucking raped and then ran off leaving her to deal with it like she was trash.”

  Rose made a small sound beside him, but he didn’t look at her. His heart roared in his ears, fury pulsing like a drum in his head, and all he could see was the growing fear in Ian’s eyes as he darted a glance at Rose. “Yeah,” West growled, “she’s my partner. And you played right into her hands, you sleazy piece of shit.”

  “I didn’t,” Ian managed hoarsely, trying to pull West’s fingers away from his throat and failing. “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “You say that one more time and I’m going to blow your fucking head off.” West placed the muzzle of his gun against the other man’s temple. “No, you know what I want from you? I want to give you a taste of what it feels like to be helpless. To be powerless. To know that another person has the power of life and death over you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “You’re crazy.” Ian struggled futilely. “Let me go.”

  “Uh uh.” West pressed the gun against the other man’s flesh. “No can do, buddy. Not until you understand that there’s nothing you can do about this. You’re completely at my mercy. And I might choose to kill you right now, right here in this elevator, or I could let you go. And you don’t know which one it will be.”

  Ian’s expression twisted with bravado. “Kill me? Sure, you will. You don’t have the balls, asshole.”

  West leaned in close, so close he could see the pores in the other man’s face and the sweat rising on his skin, see the broken blood vessels in his skin and in his eyes, the years of hard drinking taking its toll. Smell the acrid stench of his fear. “You really want to take that bet?” he asked softly.

  There was no bravado in the other man’s gaze now, only terror.

  Then West felt a hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch, warm and calming.

  Rose.

  She didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything else. Only touched him. And he didn’t know whether it was a warning or simply her letting him know that she was there, but maybe it didn’t matter. Because something slid into him at that moment; the knowledge that someone had his back. And it hit him strangely that though he’d had the support of the rest of the Duchess team and at other times, this particular time felt different. Because the person standing behind him was different. It wasn’t only a colleague, but a friend, too. Someone who knew him and probably knew him better than anyone ever had, and despite that, she was still there, at his back, supporting him.

  Some of the bitter anger inside him eased at the knowledge and he let it.

  “She wanted it,” Ian said suddenly, his voice cracking, his face going red under West’s grip. “And she didn’t say no, I swear.”

  “But she didn’t want it and she did say no.” West shook his head. “You just didn’t listen.” He let go of Ian’s throat, allowed the muzzle of the gun to drop from his temple, and eased himself back.

  Then he brought up the gun again and pulled the trigger.

  The gun was silenced but even so, the sound of it going off was loud.

  Ian gave an even louder shriek, his hands come up, moaning as he slowly slid down the back of the elevator to sit on the floor. The smell of urine was suddenly strong.

  “Oh dear,” Rose said, pulling a face. “That was louder than I expected. And I’m not talking about the gun.”

  West looked down at the man sitting on the floor of the elevator, whom he’d just fired a blank at, because as it turned out, Rose had kind of a sadistic side and even though he’d hated the red bikini she’d put on, he hadn’t minded loading his gun with blanks to put the fear of God into his ex-buddy.

  Ian leaned back against the elevator, his face dead white; obviously he’d expected to die. And he’d pissed himself, too, which added to West’s satisfaction.

  It wasn’t enough of course. Nothing would be enough. And probably even Ian going to jail wouldn’t be enough, because nothing was going to fix what happened to Carly.

  But he’d given the guy what he’d wanted, which was a small taste of what it felt like to be afraid and helpless. And that had been intensely fucking satisfying, he had to admit. It was enough, for now.

  When the elevator stopped, West made Ian call housekeeping to tell them there’d been an accident in the elevator, then he pulled the guy into the room he and Rose had booked, taking him into the bathroom and cuffing him to a handy pipe, before going back into the main room.

  Rose was in the process of changing out of her itty bitty red bikini and he allowed himself a moment to watch, since she was a gorgeous sight. Though, since they had shit to do, he didn’t interfere until she’d covered up all her golden skin with jeans and a T-shirt. Then he pulled her in for a hard kiss.

  “Thank you,” he said after he’d lifted his mouth from hers. “I can’t say I liked your little plan, but it worked.”

  She gave him a pleased looking smile. But there was a crease between her brows and a flicker of concern in her blue eyes. “Are you going to be alright?” she asked. “On the drive home mean?”

  She was leaning against him and he could feel himself responding. The adrenaline from his confrontation with Ian was careering around in his system, and the healthy dose of satisfaction at having made the fucker afraid, was making him feel like he’d just had a hit of the very best speed money could buy.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He looked down at her. “You worried I might swap the blanks for live rounds?”

  The crease between Rose’s brows deepened. “No, of course not. But it’s going to be a stressful drive. Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

  “I always want you to come.” He slid his hands over the curve of her butt, fitting her more tightly against him, suddenly craving the feel of her.

  She hit him lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t mean that, fool. I mean as a support.”

  He wanted to smile. No, what he really wanted was to push her down on the bed and fuck them both into the middle of next week.

  Except by the middle of next week, you’ll both be back at work and this will be over.

  A needle of cold slid through him. He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten all about the fact that this thing with her was only supposed to be for a couple of days, that once he’d picked up Ian and took him back to Austin, his affair with Rose would be over.

  Now, he’d picked up Ian. Which meant that his affair with Rose was over.

  She was soft and hot in his arms, her curls framing her pretty face. Her eyes were the color of a big Texas sky and the smile she was giving him was the same kind of hot. Pretty, brave, beautiful Rose.

  He didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t want this to be over.

  So, what are you going to do? You can’t keep her, you know you can’t.

  Of course, he couldn’t. He was too old for her. She was Duchess’s sister. She had a bright future ahead of her and didn’t need a broken former Marine d
ragging her down. They worked together, too, and he didn’t do permanent. He would only end up hurting her and he couldn’t bear that.

  Rose deserved more. She needed someone who could give her all the love she craved. Because she did crave it, he could see it in her eyes as she looked up at him.

  It’s too late. She loves you.

  The needle of cold slid deeper, making him catch his breath.

  You dumb fuck. You just took what you wanted and now look what happened?

  He released her, his chest aching strangely. “I’ll be okay.” His voice sounded odd, not like himself. “If the worst comes to the worst, I’ll load some more blanks and have a little fun with him. But I don’t want him even breathing the same air as you, got it?”

  “You don’t look okay.” She took a step toward him.

  And he couldn’t help himself, he took a step back.

  Rose stopped. She opened her mouth then closed it. Her eyes darkened, because she wasn’t stupid. “Oh,” she said softly. “Oh, I see.”

  He hated the pain that unfurled over her face and she didn’t hide it, because Rose wore her heart on her sleeve and that was part of what he liked about her. She was so honest.

  Unlike you. Lying to yourself that a couple of days would be fine. That no one would get hurt.

  “It was only supposed to be a couple of days,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. “That’s all, Rosie girl.”

  All the bright sparkle had drained out of her like the sun disappearing behind a cloud, taking all the light and warmth with it. Her skin looked white, dark circles under eyes. Dark circles that he’d put there.

  Because you couldn’t keep your hands off her. And you wanted her and now she loves you, and you’re hurting her.

  “Yeah, you said.” She blinked hard, her hands shoving into the pockets of her jeans. “You were very clear.”

  “Rose—”

  “But who says we can’t have more?” Her gaze settled on him and the hope shining in it felt like a knife cutting him into tiny pieces. “Who says we can’t continue this back in Austin?”

  “I say.” He tried to inject all the firmness he could into the word. “I told you it was only a couple of days and I meant it.”

  But of course, she wouldn’t accept it. She never accepted anything he told her.

  “Why not though?” She took another step toward him. “Why can’t we see where it goes? We’re good together, West. You know we are. And who cares what anything else thinks? We don’t have to answer—”

  “We can’t,” he interrupted, unable to keep the harshness from his tone.

  Rose looked at him as if he’d slapped her. “Why not?”

  There was no way he could do this kindly or quietly. No way he could simply give her one last kiss and let her go. She wasn’t going to let him. So, it would have to be swift and cutting. Cruel to be kind. She was so honest, he could give her nothing but honesty back and unfortunately, it wasn’t an honesty she was going to like.

  You don’t like it, either.

  No, but what could he do? There wasn’t another choice.

  “Because you’re in love with me, Rose.” He didn’t bother making himself sound any less rough. “And I can’t give you what you want.”

  She blinked, then a flush spread through her skin, deep and red, making her eyes look bluer. But if he was hoping she’d deny it, she didn’t. “So?” she said instead. “You’re an arrogant shit, but so what if I do love you? Would that be so very bad?”

  “Yes, it would. Because I’ll never be able to give you want. And I won’t hurt you anymore than I already have.”

  Anger leapt in her eyes and he could see the gleam of moisture there, too, and there was a knife in his gut, twisting hard, agony spreading through him. “So that’s how it’s going to be?” she demanded. “You’re going back to protecting me from yourself again? From the big bad Marine who’s only going hurt poor, weak little girls like me?”

  “No,” he said roughly. “That’s not what I said.”

  “But it’s what you mean.” She lifted her chin, tears glittering in her eyes. “You don’t want to cause me pain… Fuck, that’s so much bullshit, West O’Conner. You know I’m not afraid of a little pain.”

  “Rose—”

  “And yeah, I love you. So what? I’m not demanding a white picket fence and kids. I’m not demanding a goddamn wedding band.” Her voice was rising, anger making it shake. “All I wanted was to see where this led and it if led to nothing, then so be it. But I wanted to try.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “And I thought you’d be man enough to want to try with me.”

  Frustration made his hands clench into fists at his sides. “This isn’t about me. This is about you and I don’t want to hurt—”

  “Oh crap,” she cut him off harshly. “Don’t keeping giving me that lame excuse. This is about you. In fact, everything is about you.”

  “What?” He stared at her in shock. “What are you talking about?”

  A furious light burned in Rose’s eyes. “You keep blaming yourself for what happened to your sister and calling yourself the bad guy. But like you told me before, it didn’t happen to you, West. It happened to her. So why are you making it all about you and your fucking pain?”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are.” She glanced away, furiously wiping away her tears. “You know, I wondered down at the pool just before, what you got out of your determination to play the villain, why you refused to listen every time I told you that that you were a good guy. But I think now I get it. It’s a real handy excuse to push people away when they get too close, isn’t it?”

  She sees all the way through you, asshole.

  The knife in his gut slid up into his heart, skewering all the lies he’d told himself about sparing Rose, about not wanting to hurt her. About how he was bad and what a shit he was. And they were lies, weren’t they? Ways to direct his anger onto himself, because he couldn’t be angry at Carly. He couldn’t be angry with her that she’d refused his help. That she’d blamed him for what had happened to her. That she’d turned his father against him. That she hadn’t listened to him and had gone out to that bar with Ian anyway.

  Anger at her, because he cared about her. And he didn’t want to care. And he didn’t have it in him to care about anyone else, either. Carly had taken every ounce of it in him and there wasn’t anything left. Certainly not enough for the kind of caring Rose demanded.

  “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better,” he said, brutally harsh. “But I’m not changing my mind. I told you what we had was temporary and I meant it.”

  Fury blossomed all over her lovely face, along with the bright spark of pain, making her glow. Making her blue eyes glitter like sapphires and her skin look lit from within. Making her look like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

  But she wasn’t for him. She’d never be for him.

  You don’t deserve her anyway, not when all you have to give are excuses.

  “Okay,” she said, her voice shaking. “If that’s what you want, then you can have it. But understand that it’s what you want. Not me. I wanted more, West. I expected more, especially from you.”

  Pain stuck deep inside him, a shard of glass he’d never be able to get out, so he reached for his old standby, the emotion that had never failed him before: anger.

  “I never asked for you to expect more,” he snapped. “And I told you not to put me on that fucking pedestal.”

  “Yeah, well, I went ahead and did it anyway. Because I thought you belonged there.” She swallowed again, tears sliding slowly down her cheeks. “How nice for you to be right. You must be so pleased. Especially when it means you don’t ever get to try.”

  “Rosie girl—”

  “No, don’t call me that. Don’t call me that ever again.” Her voice shook, but she stood proud and strong. “Just give me a reason, West. One single reason why you can’t be with me.”

  “I told you
why not.”

  “No, the real reason.”

  His jaw ached. Everything ached. But he kept his voice cold as he spoke. “The real reason? Fine. I love my sister, but she took all of that damn love. Every single bit of it. There’s nothing left for anyone else, including you.”

  Her disappointment couldn’t have been more obvious. And he hadn’t thought he could hurt more than he already had. But he was wrong.

  “At least tell it like it is, West,” she said thickly. “Love isn’t a finite resource. You don’t use it all up. You just made a choice and that choice isn’t me.”

  “You’re right.” He ignored the pain in his heart, in his entire body. He had to do this. He had to. “My choice isn’t you.”

  She stared at him, tears on her cheek, agony stark in her eyes. “Okay, if that’s how it’s going to be then that’s how it’s going to be. But remember that I wanted to try. And I believed that you might want to, too. I just didn’t realize what a coward you were.”

  His hands ached from where he was clenching them, the need to go to her and take her in his arms so strong. But he fought it for all he was worth. “I’m not the man you want, Rose. I’m not.”

  “No.” She looked him up and down, scorn replacing the pain in her eyes. “I thought for a second that you might be, but you’re not. You’re just a selfish bastard in the end. Like every other guy in the world.”

  There was no denying that. He was selfish. He was protecting himself, and he knew it. But if he allowed himself to care for Rose, that would give her the power to hurt him like no one else could. Not even Carly.

  And he was done with that.

  Besides, Rose would get over him eventually. She was young. She’d find someone else without issues, who’d give her his heart without hesitation. Someone else who’d love her the way he couldn’t.

  So, West stood there rigid, watching as Rose turned on her heel and walked out of the hotel room, and out of his life.

  It was better that way.

  If he kept telling himself that, one day he’d believe it.

  Rose didn’t have a plan. Of course, what she should have done was to head to the airport and take the flight she’d booked back to Austin.