by Melissa Fox
“Yes, sir,” Ash murmured with a jaunty salute, and Pete grimaced at the attempt of his usual flippancy.
“I mean it.”
“I do, too.” Ash gripped the door handle and shifted in the seat. “I need some time to process everything, some time alone, but then…I’ll probably go see Liz.”
Just to make sure she was okay, if nothing else. Just to make sure she’s okay.
“All right. And I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Pete.”
Ash left the cab and trudged up the short flight of stairs to the front door of his apartment building. He looked around once inside the flat, aware Pete had done a methodical search, but he went through the apartment and everything inside again to find the same as his commander. Nothing to give his identity away.
After his search, he sat on the worn sofa and stared into space. He’d never get the chance to introduce Liz to his mom and dad. He’d thought he had time, lots of it, to bring the woman he loved home to his parents, but time had run out. His mother would never meet her, never know he’d fallen ass over elbows in love. His children would never meet their grandparents, and the heartache brought him to his knees.
Time passed, until rays from the setting sun shone through the window and into his eyes to rouse him from the somnolent state. He rose sluggishly and staggered to one side, muscles fatigued and cramped from clamping down on his rioting emotions. Ash caught himself on the arm of the sofa and squeezed his eyes shut until he could stand and walk, act like everything was okay. Like someday he might get back to normal.
Normal? Had his life ever been normal? He had his parents to thank for his wonderful, privileged life, all the little things that made him who he was. Had he ever shown them his gratitude? They’d known he loved them. At least he had that small comfort. His parents hadn’t been the reserved type when it came to showing their love and affection, and he’d definitely taken on the characteristic—maybe taken it a little too far at times. His stiff cheeks twinged when his lips quirked into a small smile, the first since Andy had told him the terrible news.
He needed Liz, her warmth and strength, to know she loved him, that she was well and safe and alive. Grief threatened to engulf him again, and he pressed fists to his temples. When the room stopped spinning, he grabbed the keys to the motorcycle, his helmet, and headed out the door.
The ride out of town remained a blur, but somehow he made his way to Liz’s house and stood on the porch. He lifted his fist to knock, but strength deserted him, and he braced against the frame. Head on his arm, he took deep, gulping breaths before banging his knuckles against the door.
Footsteps grew louder before the door swung open to reveal Liz’s petite form. A wide, bright smile lit her features, her happiness and excitement to see him palpable, and he absorbed the brightness into his wounded soul. Her smile faltered, and she reached for him as he stepped forward to grab her tight. The move wasn’t planned, but he needed her so much. Lifting her off her feet, he crushed her to his chest and buried his face in the rioting hair spread over the crook of her neck. Her warmth and sweetness chased away the misery that had consumed him since that morning. She stiffened for a second and then went soft in his arms to let him take what he needed.
“Ash.” Liz pushed gently on his chest so she could see his face.
He attempted to school his expression, but concern clouded her pretty features.
“What’s wrong?” Fingertips brushed along his cheekbone, under his heavy, burning eyes, touched his lower lip. “Come in and tell me what’s happened.”
He stood halfway in the doorway, and Liz linked their fingers to pull him into the front room. Ash had been focused solely on her, but his stomach flipped when movement in the hall caught his eye. Damn it, Gina was home. She’d seen, if only briefly, his vulnerability and pain. He’d slipped. Totally unacceptable, especially if her brother had been involved in his parents’ murder. Ash stiffened, and Liz glanced over her shoulder.
“Gina, could you…” Liz studied his face and then met Gina’s hard stare. “I’m sorry. I hate to ask you to leave your own house, but—”
“Sure.” Gina sneered, walking over to the table to pick up her purse. “I’ll give you two some time alone.”
Ash’s gaze shot to hers and narrowed on the smug little grin she sent his way as she swept out the door. Even with the animosity between them, her callous reaction pricked his instincts. Liz put her hand on his cheek and turned his head toward her, distracting him from the thought.
He didn’t look away, not even when the door shut behind Gina and the lock turned with a metallic click. Liz led him to the sofa, folded her legs and tugged gently on his hand, eased him next to her until he lay with his head in her lap. Soothing, stroking fingers ran through his unruly hair, and Ash sighed as his body went limp for the first time in hours. He didn’t move for a long time, until he felt boneless and disconnected from the events of the day, until the only thing he connected with was her. His face turned into the seam of her jean-clad thighs, not with sexual interest, but his dick stirred anyway. She smelled so good, like fabric softener, girl, and Liz. He inhaled, and she squirmed. Ash lifted his head to look her in the eye.
“I want you.” His voice was rough and unfamiliar in his own ears. “I need you, Lizzie. Let me—”
“Of course,” she said simply, and pulled her legs out from under him to stand. Holding his face in her hands, she bent over to kiss his mouth with a soft, gentle touch.
He got to his feet but paused when she started toward her tiny bedroom. “What about Gina?”
His body screamed for Liz, but another run-in with her roommate was more than his fragile control could handle. He couldn’t be vulnerable, give himself over to Liz’s care, if he worried about Gina coming home.
Liz turned to her phone, his hand firmly clasped in hers. Ash managed to remain still, torn between his need for her right then, right there, and wondering why she thought calling someone was important. She murmured Gina’s name, asked about her plans for the evening, and relief trickled through his muddled head when Gina volunteered to stay at a friend’s place.
“No, we’ll be here all night, I’m positive,” Liz said into the phone. “Thanks, Gina. I really appreciate this.”
Liz disconnected the call and turned to him, rising up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. He returned the gesture by encircling her waist and lifting so her legs wound around his hips.
“You need a different place to live,” he murmured. She smiled against his lips at the old and familiar argument.
Kissing her, he walked down the hall and groaned when her pelvis rubbed against his growing erection. He set her gently on the bed, weight braced on one hand while the other worked the button on her jeans. Lifting the hem of his T-shirt, first one side and then the other, she worked the hem up his stomach and past his shoulders, tossing the shirt across the room when she finally freed it from his body. Soft palms spread over his chest, clenched and grabbed onto his arms when his fingers slid beneath the silky material of her panties to find soft, dampened flesh. He teased and tickled, stroked and stirred, until she was breathless. Tossing her shirt and bra off the bed, he followed up with her shoes and jeans, and then his boots and clothes.
A shiver rippled over her skin, but she slid up the bed before he could cover her with his body. Ash stood before her, letting her see all his flaws and sins, all his blemishes and beauty. She opened her arms wide, and with a muffled, needy sound, he fell into them.
His kiss was urgent and desperate. Liz gave him her body and offered him her heart. He took both, and a particular kind of joy pierced his grief, a joy he had only ever experienced with her. With Liz. She surrounded him, enveloped him in love and glimpses of beauty. He managed to keep his emotions in check until he’d given her something in return, the pleasure his body could provide, and hoped she felt what he wanted to give her, what his heart and body shouted but his lips couldn’t speak. Clinging to him
and grounding him, she cried out, convulsed under his weight, roused to stroke his shoulders and back as his climax took him. Tremors wracked him in the aftermath, in gladness of her.
His body and mind sank deep with exhaustion. Drifting, he absorbed the softness of her breast under his cheek, the warmth of her arms around him, and the stroke of her fingers through his hair. Her lips pressed gently to the top of his head, and he sighed, settling into a disturbed sleep, but sleep nonetheless.
Ash woke the next morning cramped, hot, uncomfortable, but completely content with Liz tucked into the curve of his body. She stirred, snuggling and stretching, but not enough to disturb their intimate cocoon. He settled her against him, skin to skin, despite being overly warm, and she let out a sigh. Her hand covered his where they rested against her stomach and gave a quick, gentle squeeze before she turned in his arms. Fingers skimmed his chin and cheeks, stubble rasped under the tips, and she offered him a sweet smile.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” he returned in a gruff voice with a kiss to her forehead.
Silence stretched, warm but full of unspoken tension, as she examined his face.
“I love you, Ash,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss each cheek. “What happened yesterday?”
Pressing her head into his shoulder, he held her close and closed his eyes. “Bad news.”
Liz pushed against his chest until he relaxed his hold.
“Ash.” She looked at him reprovingly.
“There was…a death in my family.”
“Your family?” She frowned, and then her features softened. “You don’t talk about them very much.”
“We’re not close.” He couldn’t meet her eyes as he told the lie, but the curtness in his voice lent an ironic aura of truth to the words.
“I’m so sorry.” She hugged him. When she pulled back, her cheeks were wet.
“Hey. Hey,” he repeated helplessly, undone by the first sign of tears. He stroked her hair, curling wayward strands behind her ears, and kissed her lips to stop their trembling.
“I’m sorry. I can see how hard this is for you. I wish I could do something to help.”
“You did. You have. You’re here. You’re exactly what I need, Lizzie. Thank you.”
“I love you.” Her heart was in her eyes, and he kissed her, long, slow, and lingering. Her hands slid over his shoulders, down the long line of his naked back to his bare ass, where she took two big handfuls and squeezed.
Ash grunted and instinctively flexed his hips, rolling her under him and rubbing his hard shaft against her soft stomach.
“Want you,” he murmured against her mouth before sliding his tongue inside with sensual slowness.
“You’ve got me, Ash,” she whispered. “You’ve got all of me.”
She might not realize, but she had him, too, body and blackened soul. Then again, maybe she did know after all. He made love to her again, gentler than he wanted, more rough than he should. Liz gave him everything he needed, a haven for a few short hours, but all too soon, reality and the morning light intruded.
“Got to go.” He had to do…something. Pretend he was fine, meet with Rico, with Pete, act like he had his shit together while everything fell apart.
Liz pressed herself flush against his back as he sat on the edge of the bed and bent over to pull on his boots. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?”
“You’ve done everything.” He turned and kissed her. “I mean it, Liz. Thank you.”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her nose against his. “I just don’t want you to go.”
“I know.” He pressed one last kiss to her forehead and rose to his feet. “Call you later, okay? Promise.”
“Okay. I’ll come to your place, if that’s all right. After class. Make you dinner and spend the night?”
“Sounds perfect.”
His mind had already moved on to what he had to do that day. He had to meet with Rico later and be prepared to see the bastard face to face, considering what he suspected about Rico’s involvement in his parents’ murder.
Ash walked out into the main room and stuck his hands into the pocket of his jacket to grab his keys and phone. Pulling the cell out to check the display, he did a swift double take at a text from Andy. Brief, a careless hey how are you doing on the surface, but code for Andy wanting to meet again.
“Everything okay?” Liz asked, anxiety lacing her voice.
“Hm? Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” If she noticed his preoccupation, then he’d let his concentration slip. He couldn’t afford any weakness. Too much was at stake—the job, his safety, and the safety of those he loved. “I’ll see you later.”
“Be careful, Ash. Take care of yourself today.”
“I will, beautiful.” He kissed her again, slow and deep, and then headed out the door.
After settling into the seat of his motorcycle, he set the helmet in his lap and pulled out the cell phone once more. He hit the send button, and Andy picked up immediately.
“Where you at?” Andy asked without preliminaries, and Ash stiffened.
“Spent the night at my girl’s. I’m just leaving. Getting ready to start the bike and go.”
“Well, it’s been one of those ashes to ashes, dust to dust kind of mornings, you know?” Well, shit. Andy’s signal for get your ass in ASAP.
“Yeah.” Ash’s kept his tone subdued, but his mind raced. What now?
“I’m hanging at my cousin’s today, if you want to come over.” Get to the safe house.
“Having fun?”
“It’s okay.” So the situation wasn’t life threatening. “See you soon?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
He made it to the safe house within minutes. Getting called in with the code phrase meant he didn’t have to worry about protecting the location, so Ash found a spot for the bike on the street out front. Andy stood in the entry and gestured him inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.
“Davenport’s here.”
Andy led him into the kitchen, where Pete sat at the table looking through another damn file folder and evidence envelope. Pete kicked the chair across from him, a silent command for Ash to sit. He lowered himself into the seat, his gaze moving from Pete’s serious face to the items on the table. Pete pushed the packet toward him, and Ash lifted the flap to look inside.
Another envelope, business sized, with his parents’ address on the front and a postmarked stamp. Ash turned the letter over and pulled out a sheet of paper. Skimming the words, he focused on a handwritten signature scrawled across the bottom—his name, but definitely not his writing. He glanced at Pete, whose expression hadn’t changed, and then turned back to read what had been typed above the faked signature.
An invitation to the theater. The tickets weren’t in the envelope, as they had obviously been used the night before—a gift his parents thought he’d sent. His vision blurred and then hazed red. They had been set up, and he’d been used to do it. He shot to his feet, his only intent to find Rico and kill him. The last line of the short note read: Have a good time and don’t worry about me. I’m doing well and loving the new job. It’s the aces.
It’s the aces. Rico’s pet term. Ash started from the table, but Andy grabbed him from behind. He tore free, but Pete appeared in front of him and grasped his arms. Ash used the last of his reason and strength to not throw a punch at his boss.
“Rico,” he managed to rasp, voice and body shaking with repressed rage. “It was fucking Rico.”
“Yes.” Pete gave him a hard shake. “But you can’t go after him, Ash. Think about it. He wanted you to know. He knew we’d find this in your parents’ house, and he deliberately used that phrase so you’d make the connection. He’s trying to piss you off, make you do something stupid so he can take you out.”
“It’s working,” Ash shouted.
“Get it together, corporal.”
Cold tremors shook him as he snapped out of his blinding fury, struggled to regain
the detachment he needed to be of any use. Pete nodded as reason seeped back into his consciousness.
“We’re not sure how much Salvatore knows, if he has information on the entire operation and everyone involved, or if he just knows you’re a cop.”
What little composure he’d achieved disintegrated. Rico might not have information on everyone involved in the operation, but he did know who Ash was involved with personally.
Liz.
Deep, soul-shattering fear encased him. He looked up at Pete, knew Andy hovered behind him, but they couldn’t stop him from getting to Liz and making sure she was okay.
“Liz,” he whispered, bolting for the door.
“Daniel’s on his way to her house.” Pete stepped in front of him.
“She doesn’t know him.” Ash wrestled with the urge to tear out of the room, grab Liz, and take her someplace where she’d be safe from any threat.
“He’ll watch out for her until we figure out a plan."
“Why didn’t you tell me to bring her in with me?” Ash glared at his boss. “I was at her place when Andy called.”
The two men exchanged a look over his head, and his temper boiled.
“The operation’s blown anyway. Doesn’t matter if she sees you or finds out about this place. She’s in danger because of us. She could get killed because of us. I think it’s okay to bring her to the fucking safe house.”
“Ash—”
“No! I’m getting her out right now. Not playing games with her life, Pete. We’re not taking the chance. Let me get her somewhere safe, and then I’ll figure out what to do next. Just let me make her safe, okay?”
Pete remained silent, considering, and then gave a curt nod. Ash released a breath. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if Pete had refused, but he was glad he didn’t have to find out.
“Call Daniel. I’ll tell Liz to meet me at my apartment. I can’t go to her house and risk running into Gina. Not sure how she’s involved, but she is.” He had no doubt. The smug, mean look she’d given him as she left the house the night before proved she knew something.