by Sybil Bartel
Quick, precise, Buck’s eyes snapped to mine.
For one ear-shattering moment, all the noise of the party flooded back and hit me hard enough to make me stumble.
Then everything went silent. For-real silent.
Anger contorted Buck’s face and he was on his feet so fast, Barbie jumped back as his chair flew out behind him. He was across the room faster than I could blink. The collective gasp was audible as war-hardened muscles grabbed Talon and threw him against the wall.
All the rage that I knew Buck was capable of came bellowing out in one furious roar. “You lying piece of shit!” Buck pulled back and slammed Talon against the wall again. “You fucking promised.”
A small part of me, the self-preservation part, wanted to hide, but the rest of me couldn’t look away. Despite the anger, the rage, and the dead look in his pale eyes I’d seen a minute ago, Buck was the most extraordinarily beautiful man I’d ever seen. My lungs came to life and for the first time in days, I breathed a full breath.
“Give it your best, Deer Hunter, won’t change shit.” Talon’s voice dropped to a deadly warning. “Try and take me. She’ll still be here.”
Buck pushed his arm dangerously hard against Talon’s throat.
“Blaze.” My voice cracked.
Buck surged forward, his face an inch from Talon’s. “You. Promised,” he gritted out, before abruptly letting Talon go and grabbing my upper arm all in one single movement. His fingers gripped me so tight, I fought the urge to wince.
And just how I’d made it into Talon’s house, I made it out—propelled. Except this time, it wasn’t gentle. His lungs heaving, every muscle in his bare chest flexed, Buck dragged me downstairs, across the gravel and shoved me toward the Infiniti.
“Leave,” he barked.
I threw the keys at him. “Not my car.” I spun and didn’t even make it a foot before his fingers wrapped around my smarting arm again. “Ow!”
“Check the fucking title, it’s yours!”
“Go fuck yourself!”
“I don’t have to!”
I flinched like he’d hit me. An image of the blonde upstairs with her hands on more than just his shoulders crippled my already destroyed heart and I just stood there, frozen in grief. Fighting back vomit, I didn’t even resist as Buck thrust the keys in my hand then spun around to go inside.
Maybe it was the wide set of his shoulders, maybe it was shock that he’d given me his mother’s car or maybe it was just raw desperation and pain. But my arm pulled back and with muscle memory from years of softball, I hurled those fucking keys and hit him square in the back.
Then everything went slow motion.
Buck turned. Enraged, nostrils flaring, jaw ticking, hands fisted, six feet four inches of marine muscle strode across the gravel driveway and got in my face. “I saved you,” he said in a deadly whisper.
I didn’t back down. “Keep your fucking car.”
“I fucking saved you!” he roared.
“I didn’t ask you to!”
Hatred distorted his voice. “I found you and I saved you and I didn’t ask for shit in return. But you fucking went there, you opened that goddamn door. You. Not me. So, I asked. I fucking asked. One thing. One thing.”
“What thing?”
“Anchor me, goddamn it!”
Shock ripped apart my anger like it was made of paper.
His hand caught the hair at the back of my neck and he trapped me in his relentless grip. “I wanted one reason to climb out of that hellhole and come back.” His voice went so quiet, I almost didn’t hear his next words. “I fucking saved you but you didn’t anchor me.”
Oh God.
Oh. My God.
Actions. That’s what he’d wanted. Me signing a little piece of paper to let him know I was his. A signature, an I do, a promise, a commitment, to him. And that was the one thing I didn’t give him. I was caught up in a stupid fucking name and useless fear and I threw everything else away.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t enough.
Disgusted, he shoved me away.
The words, too late and completely selfish, came out of my mouth anyway. “I love you.”
“You don’t know what love is.”
My hand went to my chest and pressed as if it would stop the jagged knife ripping through what was left of my heart. “I can’t keep your car.” My voice shook. “Please don’t make me.” I picked up my purse where it’d fallen and I walked down Talon’s driveway.
* * *
I didn’t look back and I didn’t cry. I put one foot in front of the other.
“Damn, girl. I thought you were Talon’s.”
I glanced up but I didn’t stop walking. It was the surfer from Talon’s shop who’d hit on me a few months back. “I’m no one’s,” I bit out.
“Alright, alright, I feel you.” He fell into step beside me. “Where you heading?”
Good question. “You got a car?” I needed a ride back to Miami and at this point, I wasn’t picky.
He patted down his board shorts then smiled. “No wheels on me.”
Fuck. I turned north on A1A and headed toward town. The surfer kept up and a couple minutes later he spoke.
“We aiming somewhere or just walking?”
I tore my eyes away from my feet and looked at him. White-blond hair, blue eyes, shirt tossed casually over one shoulder. He had a great body but I wasn’t interested. “I’m walking, hoping eventually I’ll run into some form of transportation.”
Sympathetic to my mood or maybe he just didn’t care, he smiled and let it drop.
A half mile later he was still there so I stopped and turned to him. “What are you doing?”
He smiled but he looked sheepish. “Walking with a pretty lady.”
“Did Talon put you up to this?”
His eyes got wide. “Definitely not.”
“What do you want?”
He grinned. “What do you want?”
I might’ve growled.
“Okay, okay.” He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “How about a few beers and some killer nachos?”
Seriously? He was asking me out? Now? After what he’d just witnessed? I glared at him.
“My treat.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I pinched the bridge of my nose then sighed. “I don’t drink beer.”
He frowned and cocked his head, then a smile spread across his face. “Margaritas!”
I looked up and down the street. I hadn’t made a single good decision today, so I sealed my fate. “Tequila. Shots. No margaritas. I haven’t decided on the nachos.” I was feeling destructive; food would only interfere with that.
“A woman after my own heart. Shots it is.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned.
He smiled wider. “Too late, you’re hot as hell, mamacita.”
Jesus. “Don’t call me that.” I concentrated on breathing and not freaking out. “What’s your name?”
He held his hand out. “Braige. Nice to meet you, Layna.”
I blinked. “You know my name?”
The mischief in his eyes looked like I was on the outside of an inside joke. “Oh yeah.”
I ignored his hand. “Like I said, don’t get any ideas, Braige.”
“I hear you.” But his smile didn’t waver.
Chapter Fifteen
The sun had set, my ass was being held up by a bar stool and I was drunk as hell. Braige had forced me to eat nachos so I didn’t toss my cookies. He’d said he’d puke if he didn’t eat something and he didn’t want to eat alone so I shoveled some down. For some fucked-up reason, I was proud I’d outdrank him.
When his phone lit for about the hundredth time with another text, I grabbed it.
“Turn it off. It’s giving me a complex.” I might’ve slurred.
He smiled. “Yeah, why’s that?”
“You’re more popular than a cheerleader in heat.”
His laugh was magical. I should know, I’d heard it all afternoon. It was the laugh of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. “Not popular, mamacita. Big brother. Seems I’m being watched.”
“You have a brother?” Was I seeing two Braiges? I was definitely seeing two Braiges. I raised my hand to the bartender and made a little circle motion with my finger. Then I got dizzy. “I’m dizzy.” I think I giggled.
Braige’s face went all serious. “You’re dizzy?”
“Yeah.” Then I smiled. Really smiled.
He caught my grin and returned it, big-time. “What’s that gorgeous smile for?”
I leaned forward and aimed for his ear. “Can’t feel my legs,” I cooed.
“Oh shit.” His hand landed on my thigh. “What about here?”
“Nope.”
He leaned closer and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. His voice, his bright blue eyes, they turned dark. “Can you feel this?”
“Uh-huh.” Maybe.
His hand threaded into my hair. “Hot as hell,” he whispered, leaning in.
“Back. Off.”
It wasn’t a warning, it was a growl. A familiar Buck-sized growl.
Braige’s hand left my hair, he sat up, trained his eyes on the wall of muscle suddenly standing next to me but his other hand remained firmly on my thigh. “Hey, man, you tossed her aside.”
Despite the fuzziness around the edges, Braige squaring off with an angry Buck was crystal clear. And it didn’t look good for Braige.
I glared at Buck. Or at least I tried to. Why was he here? And shit...I craned my neck up. When did he get so fucking tall? “Go away.”
His eyes, cold and angry, swung to me. “You drunk?”
“Com-pleeet-ly.” There, I’d said it.
But I guess it was the wrong answer because in the next second, I was off the stool.
“Going up!” I giggled.
When my side hit his chest and his strong arms cradled my body to his, I forgot I was even supposed to be mad. The heavenly scent that was all Buck flooded in and made me melt. As he carried me out of the bar, I tried to look back, but my head lolled to the side.
“Bye-bye, Braige.” My hand fluttered through the air.
“Later, mamacita.” He didn’t smile.
I looked up at Buck, but he wasn’t smiling either. “What’s wrong?” And why was he carrying me?
He didn’t answer. He set me on my feet and the sudden movement made the ground sway. I reached out and got thin air, then Buck’s arm snaked around my waist and righted me.
“Thank you,” I said sweetly.
He wrenched open a car door. “Get in.”
I saluted. “Yes, sir.” I slid inside, easy-peasy, then the smell hit me. “This is Talon’s car,” I stated when Buck got behind the wheel.
“No shit.”
I pushed my hair off my shoulder. “Jeez, what’s your problem?”
It was like stepping out into a Florida summer afternoon from a movie theater. His anger was that hot, that bright and that instant.
“What’s my fucking problem? Do you see me shit-faced with a fucking punk trying to feel me up? Or how about crashing Talon’s hours before I ship out? Or maybe I should bring up the whole part where I was never good enough to play house with.” His anger threaded into a vicious sneer as his voice turned deadly calm. “But I was good enough to fuck you, wasn’t I?”
My head spun and I covered my ears. “Stop it.”
He wrenched my hands away. “Stop what? You liked me between your legs. You liked my mouth on you. You called my name when I made you come.”
“Enough.” I reached for the door.
Buck’s arm shot across my chest and hit the lock.
“Let me out!”
“Why? So you can go fuck that asshole? Feeling the need to spread them, is that it? You want to be fucked, Layna?” His arms went wide in a sickening mockery of my feelings for him. “Then have at it.”
I turned my back to him. Between my tequila and his anger, there was nothing I could say.
The engine roared to life. “That’s what I thought,” he said bitterly.
* * *
Buck pulled into Talon’s empty driveway. All the people gone, the house dark, you’d never know there’d been a party. Buck turned the car off and I contemplated sleeping in Talon’s Challenger but my door was yanked open a half second later by a pissed-off marine.
Stupidly, I looked up. Moonlight shining on the hard angles of his face, Buck looked more warrior than man and suddenly, nothing made sense. “Why did you come after me if you’re so angry?” Braige was right. “You tossed me aside.”
His chest heaved, once, twice. “Get out of the car.”
I sobered by a few degrees. “You’re scaring me.”
He ran a hand over his head, then stepped back.
Hesitantly, I got out of the car but I couldn’t go inside. I’d managed to delude myself all afternoon. I’d shoved everything I’d lost down deep, but this? Being in the same house as him? This would crush me. “I, um.” Shit. “Can you take me to a hotel? Or a cab, a cab would work. It’s late and I—” I didn’t get the rest of the words out.
One arm swept under my knees and another hit my back and I was off my feet. “You’re sleeping here.” His arms tightened infinitesimally. “With me.”
Fear, elation, I didn’t know what to feel, so I clung to Buck’s neck and he carried me inside. But the second he crossed the threshold into Talon’s guest room, memories swirled into a storm and I was drowning. His words from earlier hit me in the gut. Anchor me.
How was I supposed to do that? How did I tether him from thousands of miles away when he was fighting for his life? A piece of paper saying we were married wouldn’t keep him safe. I couldn’t keep him safe. I couldn’t save his life. He’d saved mine, but I couldn’t save his. The scars all over his body were proof of that. The crushing weight of failure destroyed the alcoholic haze I’d tried so hard to disappear into. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Buck stilled but he didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t anchor you because I didn’t know how,” I confessed.
His muscles strained with resignation and disappointment. “I know.”
I looked up at his stoic expression. “Tell me how.”
I heard the quiet beat of his heart. I felt the blood pulsing through his veins. I stared at lips that had kissed every inch of my body and I held my breath. He said nothing.
“Please,” I begged.
His inhale was sharp. “Get some sleep.” He stepped toward the bed.
Desperate, I grasped two handfuls of his shirt as realization struck. “I know I could’ve married you, I know I could’ve given you a baby, but that wouldn’t have anchored you. You’re different—you came home different. I see it, I feel it. I couldn’t save you like you saved me...but I wanted to. God, I wanted to. I wanted so bad to be the person you turned to.” I’d wanted it more than I’d wanted his last name. I’d wanted that phone call to come get him at the airport. I’d wanted to help him carry his bag in. I’d wanted to change his bandages. “But I couldn’t do that because you didn’t let me.”
He finally looked at me. Weary, tired, his mask gone, he looked at me.
I reached for him the only way I knew how, I cupped the side of his cheek. “You didn’t let me in,” I whispered.
His eyes closed, his chest swelled, then his breath came out and tightened all the lines on his face.
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
Hope surged in my heart.
Then he set me on the bed.
And my fragile world dropped out from under me.
Chapter Sixteen
Sickly sweet perfume reared up, permeating everything. My stomach heaved and bile rose in my throat. A strange keening sound erupted from my chest and I rolled.
“Take me to a hotel. Now.” My legs threatened to give out under me.
Sitting on the bed, his back to me, his shoulders dropped. “No.”
The pieces fell together like freeze-frame photography. Him naked, her touching him, his shorts gone, his clothes now, one after another, the pictures flipped through my head. “You changed,” I accused.
He unlaced a boot. “So you said.”
His cargo pants and T-shirt didn’t smell like perfume; he smelled like a recent shower. My arms crossed my body and my stomach lurched. “Your shorts. You’re not wearing them.”
Buck froze. Then slow, deliberate, he turned to face me and his eyes narrowed. “You got something to say?”
Oh my God. He slept with her.
My hand flew to my mouth as I desperately tried to stop the anguished cry from coming out. I glanced at the door, but there was a bed and a marine between me and my escape.
I started to shake. “Is this why you came for me?”
He stood.
A tear broke free and slid down my cheek. “The cut wasn’t deep enough?”
His warrior mask slid into place.
“I see what you’re doing,” I accused.
He said nothing.
Oh my God. How could he? “You brought me here to hurt me. Destroy me. Why? Because I didn’t suffer enough? My heart wasn’t broken enough? Is that it? You had to crush what was left?”
He denied nothing.
“Well, mission accomplished!” The mountain of pain in my chest erupted and I grabbed Talon’s keys off the dresser. “Get out of my way.” I shoved past him.
I was airborne before I could clear the room.
My back hit the bed and Buck landed on my chest. “What the fuck are you doing?” he bit out angrily.
The smell of perfume destroying me, I hit at his chest. “Get off! Get off get off get off! Let me go!”