by Sybil Bartel
I grabbed the cell phone, flopped on the bed and punched in Talon’s number, intending to tell him exactly what I thought of his choice of a bodyguard. He answered on the first ring.
“That didn’t take long, Sugar.”
My body instantly relaxed at the sound of his voice. “What didn’t take long?”
“Neil gettin’ on your nerves?” he asked knowingly.
“Shit,” I breathed out. “You have no idea.” I was ready to run, not walk, into Miami’s arms.
Talon chuckled. “What’d you do to him? He’s texting me, saying something about a...” Talon paused then laughed harder. “A fuckin’ hair salon? Sugar, if you go to hair salons, I’m the Easter Bunny.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? My hair looks like shit? And don’t insult the Easter Bunny! You’re cornering the market on Scooby’s sidekick with your hair, Shaggy.”
Talon’s laughter howled through the connection. “I love it when you’re all feisty in the mornin’. Shit Sugar, I almost wanna turn around just to see you square off with Neil.”
“Fuck you,” I seethed.
“You wish. Now go be a good little prisoner and do what Neil says. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Tal-lon,” I whined, hating the sound of my voice. I needed to rein it in but I couldn’t help myself.
“Sug-gar.” He mimicked me.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself of what Talon was doing. “Fine, don’t do anything stupid. Don’t get hurt.” Or killed.
“Nothin’ doin’, Sugar, nothin’ doin’,” he said quietly.
It was all the reassurance I’d get. “Okay,” I sighed.
“Do me a favor?” he asked casually.
“What?” I was melancholy as hell now.
“Call him.”
The pain of heartbreak swooped in and took me off guard, destroying all the air in my lungs. “I can’t do that,” I barely breathed.
“Can’t or won’t? I talked to him. He needs to hear from you. He’s hurtin’ and only you hold the key.”
“You spoke with him?” The jealousy was instant.
“Yeah, you need to call him.”
“What’d he say?” It was juvenile to ask, but I did anyway.
“Sugar, he’s a man. He understands what it’s like to come off an adrenaline high. He’s not mad so much as hurt. Well, he’s mad at himself for not being there and he’s pissed as hell at me, but you? He’s hurt by it. I told him he should’ve cemented somethin’ with you awhile back then this wouldn’t have happened. But he didn’t and I’m not liftin’ the blame off us, but we all could’ve done things a little different. You understand what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah, I hear you.” Except Talon had kissed me again last night and I’d let him. “But you’re conveniently forgetting about the last part of the night.”
There was a long pause then Talon sighed. “I’m not forgettin’. I’ll remember that as long as I live, but you and me? We aren’t meant for each other.”
I sighed. “I should feel guilty for letting you kiss me last night,” I admitted.
“You should but it’d be a waste of time, over and done with.”
“So where does that leave us?” I needed clarification. I had no experience with this.
His voice turned rough and dark. “Just friends, Sugar, just friends.”
“Wow, are you a glutton for punishment.” Look where being friends with me had gotten him—shot at and in a fight with his friend of five years. All his friendship had done for me was save my life and put a roof over my head. “From where I’m standing you get the shit end of the deal.” I was a sucky person.
“I dunno ’bout that, Sugar.” His voice softened. “Sure is fun watchin’ you rile a grown man with that sass mouth of yours.”
“You’re crazy.” I couldn’t be mad at him, he was right about my mouth. No brain-to-mouth filter, that was my excuse and I was sticking to it.
“Never doubt it.” His voice turned serious. “Now hang up and call Blaze.”
I was quiet a moment, thinking.
“You still there, Sugar?”
“There was no sugar in my coffee this morning,” I blurted.
Talon’s signature laugh filled my ears and my heart. “Too late, now it’s stuck and I like it.”
“Bully for you.” I felt like sticking my tongue out at him.
“G’bye Sugar, keep up the good work.” He hung up.
I sat there wondering if I should call Buck. Before I lost my nerve, I dialed. After three rings I was about to hang up when he answered.
“What’s up?” There was no kindness in his tone.
“Is this a bad time?” I shouldn’t have called.
“No worse than any other.” Buck’s voice was dead flat.
Shit. Inhaling, I jumped in with both feet because I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance again. “I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I just wanted you to know that I made a huge mistake. I know it doesn’t take it away and I’m just...sorry. I’m sorry about your mom, I’m sorry about what happened between us but mostly I’m sorry it took this happening for me to realize how I feel about you. I won’t take back what I said last night. I meant it and I know you don’t feel the same and I know I don’t deserve you but what I did wasn’t intentional, I swear. I never meant to betray you.”
Silence.
“Okay, so, if you need anything or I can help you with anything, I know I’m last person you probably want to ask, but I’m offering. Otherwise, I’ll just, um...leave you alone.” I took a deep breath and waited.
He didn’t say anything.
I stumbled on. “Whatever happens, with me...in the end, I don’t regret it. Spending even one day with you was worth it. Even knowing I lose you, I’d do it all over again—just to have that time. You’re...amazing and kind and honorable. Thank you, for everything you did for me. It was more than anyone else.”
Nothing.
“Buck?”
“What?”
“Oh, okay. I was just, um, well, that’s it, that’s all I had to say.”
He hung up.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I put my head in my hands and tears soaked my skin. I shouldn’t have expected a different reaction but I did.
“So it’s Blaze,” a deep voice said.
I jumped a foot and grabbed my chest. “Shit! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Neil stood impassively in the door, his head almost touching the top of the frame. He didn’t reply.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you eavesdropping is rude?” I snapped.
“No, she taught me a fool is like all other men as long as he remains silent.”
Well shit. I blinked. “Yeah, well you’re not being very silent now.” There, take that, Viking.
Viking eyed me a moment. “I was not referring to myself.”
Stunned for half a second at the insult, I stood up then kicked the door shut. Before I had a chance to flop back on the bed, Viking pushed the door back open, eyed me then went upstairs.
“Fucker,” I muttered under my breath.
* * *
Buck didn’t come back that night. Or the next. I didn’t hear from Talon despite my repeated texts and Neil ignored me unless he was issuing one of three commands: come, sit, eat. With the exception of meals, I spent every minute in my room becoming more and more despondent.
I knew Buck’s mother passed away not because I asked Neil but because I felt it. I had to face the reality I might never see Buck again. And every minute that ticked by, I feared Talon wouldn’t return. I didn’t know what to do. Not that I could do anything with a Viking for a bodyguard.
The second night at dinner, the fifth meal Neil had cooked for me, I didn’t even pretend to eat. Food no longer smelled good. My stomach was in knots and all I could do was concentrate on not crying in front of Neil. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him eat a few bites before he put his fork down.
“
You will not help anything by not eating.”
It was the first time his voice sounded less than stern. Slowly, I nodded. He was right but I wasn’t capable of doing anything more than sitting.
“If I had news, I would tell you.” Neil spoke again.
Again I nodded.
Neil said something in Danish, pushed his chair back then went downstairs. A minute later he was back with something in his hand as he stood over me.
“Come,” he commanded.
I just stared at him.
Neil slid my chair out and with surprising gentleness lifted me to my feet. “Turn around.”
Before I had chance to respond, he spun me so my back was to him.
In two quick movements that surprised the hell out of me, Neil pulled my hair back and fastened it with an elastic into a makeshift bun. He put a baseball cap on my head and tucked a few loose hairs behind my ears. His deft movements made me think he’d done this before. That or he was good at anything he decided to do. Glancing up at his set jaw and the hard planes of his face, I couldn’t tell which.
“What’s going on?” I dared to ask.
“We’re getting out.” Neil put his hand at the small of my back and led us downstairs.
The night air was sweet with mild ocean breezes and spring blooms. I inhaled deeply, already feeling marginally better. Neil kept his hand on my back as he opened the door to one of the biggest pickup trucks I’d ever seen. If it didn’t have a step, I would’ve been hard-pressed to get into it. Neil waited till I was inside then shut the door and got in on his side. The limo-tinted windows made it almost impossible to see out at night.
Neil didn’t talk as he maneuvered the truck in a three-point turn so he could get out of Talon’s driveway. He used a remote to open the security gate, then we were speeding south on A1A. I didn’t care where we were going, just as long as we were out.
I was thinking about asking Neil if he had heard from Buck or Talon when the sound of a phone ringing filled the truck’s cab. Neil pressed a button on the steering wheel.
“Ja,” he answered.
A husky female voice floated around me, except she wasn’t speaking English. Her words were sharp and abrupt but her voice made them sound breathy and seductive. She spoke for a bit and when she paused long enough for Neil to answer her, I would have sworn they weren’t speaking Danish.
A few more minutes and it was clear she wasn’t happy about something. Neil’s tone of voice didn’t change from how he spoke to me, so I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I’d venture to say no one would ever know what Neil was thinking unless he decided to tell them.
I waited till he ended the call and asked what language he was speaking.
“Bulgarian,” he answered.
Bulgarian? Jeez, there’s a language I never thought about. I was too timid to ask about the woman behind the voice. “How many languages do you speak?” I asked instead.
“Seven.”
Whaaat? “Seven? What are they?” I’d never met anyone who spoke seven languages. Was that even possible?
Neil glanced at me and I got the feeling I’d crossed a line by asking something too personal. I waited him out to see if he would answer.
“Danish, Finnish, Norwegian, English, Russian, Bulgarian and Arabic,” he rattled off.
The last one grabbed my attention. “Arabic.” I looked at him.
“Yes,” he said simply.
Wow. “Well, that sounds useful.”
Neil didn’t comment.
“Where did you learn Arabic?” I fixated on the where, knowing if I found out, it would give me some insight into Neil. Not that I wanted to know too much. Neil scared the crap out of me.
“Jægerkorpset.”
“Jaeger what?”
Neil paused as if deciding how much to tell me. “Royal Danish Army,” he finally said.
Uh huh. I’m sure the Danish army regularly trained soldiers in Arabic. “Seems there’s a trifle more to it than that.” I might’ve sounded a little skeptical.
“Special Forces,” he grunted.
Ah ha, knew it. Well, at least I understood why Talon and Buck trusted him. “How’d you meet Talon?”
“Overseas.”
“Pretty big place that, overseas.” Who knew if meant overseas from Denmark or overseas from America.
The phone rang again, saving Neil from answering me, if he was even going to.
“Ja.”
“What do you know?” Buck’s deep voice filled the cab.
I wanted to cry with longing.
“Nothing,” Neil replied crisply.
I bit my lip to keep from calling out to him.
“Has he checked in?” Buck sounded angry. There was a lot of noise in the background, like he was at a bar.
“Not since last time,” Neil answered vaguely.
“Where are you?” Buck went from sounding angry to sounding suspicious.
“In the truck.”
Pause.
My heart stopped, wondering if Buck would put it together and if he would speak to me.
“You alone?” Buck finally asked.
“No,” Neil clipped.
Buck hung up.
I turned toward the window and silently wept.
Neil was either giving me space or he didn’t want to deal with me. A few minutes later when I managed to stop crying he spoke again.
“What did you do to him?”
I couldn’t even be mad that he was assuming it was me who did something to Buck instead of the other way around.
“I kissed Talon.” He kissed me. What did it matter? It happened. I hoped I wasn’t making it worse by telling Neil. Screw it, too late now.
“When you already belonged to Blaze?”
What was with this belonging bullshit? “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“But Blaze thought you did.”
“I don’t know—he never said,” I snapped at Neil. “He threw around a bunch of words, said a bunch of shit then he retreated. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I didn’t know if he regretted saying them or if he changed his mind or what. How was I supposed to know?” I threw my hands up in the air.
“Did you ask him?”
“No, goddamn it, I didn’t ask him! By then it was too late! I’d already kissed Talon and told Buck about it and then in a fit of desperation blurted out to Buck that I loved him and that fucked everything up!” My words flew out of my mouth like the shit storm, temper tantrum that they were.
Neil was silent two heartbeats, then, “I think things were a trifle fucked up before that.”
I glared at him. There was enough ambient light in the dark cab for him to get it.
Neil glanced at me. “Isn’t it why I am here?”
“What’s your point?”
“It’s a compromising situation.”
What a fucking understatement. Being shot at, drowning and having a fucking psychopathic murderer after me. If that’s what Neil thought was compromising, I’d hate to see what real danger looked like to him. “You’re fucking depressing,” I muttered, sinking lower into the seat.
“You have a foul mouth for a female.”
I wouldn’t know. I had no one to compare myself to. “Life is foul.” That’s all I knew.
Neil didn’t disagree.
Ten minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of an oceanfront restaurant. The place was packed. He circled the parking lot but since he didn’t take any of the open spots, I got the impression he was watching for a tail. When he finally parked, he held his hand up with the universal signal to wait. We sat in silence a few minutes as he watched the entrance to the lot.
He pulled the key out of the ignition.
“I’m not dressed.” Tank top, leggings and flip flops weren’t appropriate attire for the upscale-looking restaurant.
“We’re not going inside.”
My mood tanked even more. “Peachy.” Not even one stupid tequila. This sucked. I reached for the door.
> Neil stopped me. “I will come get you.”
Yay. “Terrific.” Lucky me. Couldn’t wait.
Neil opened my door and helped me down. He locked the truck then put his hand on my back. The next ten seconds took five years off my life.
A car across from us suddenly started up and turned on their headlights. Neil’s arm flew in front of me and shoved. Almost instantly, I was behind him, his hand palming a gun in the back waistband of his jeans. He unlocked the truck with the remote and gave a terse command.
“Inside.”
Heart in my throat, the sound of the gunfire from the beach coming back to haunt me, I scrambled around the open door and launched myself in head first. A split second later the car pulled out and I all but whimpered as they passed.
I was crouched on the floor of the cab, knees to my chest when Neil turned around.
“You are fine.”
I didn’t say anything. Gunshots from a few nights ago were swirling in my head and clouding my vision with fear.
“They’d have to get through me to get to you.”
I heard Neil speaking but I didn’t. My eyes darted around the dark cab and all I saw were images of blood and death and what could’ve happened a minute ago, as my mind went haywire with panic.
“Layna.” Neil’s hand covered my shoulder.
It was instant, like someone turned out the panic light. Neil’s hand on my shoulder—panic gone. It was that simple. I looked up at silver-gray eyes.
“Yeah?” Was I a soldier junkie? Did Marines and Danish Army—whatevers make my wires cross? What the hell?
“Talon said you like to run the beach.”
Run the beach? “He did?”
Neil gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Run the beach.” I hated running. I’d been running for three years. “Okay.” What else was I going to do?
Neil pulled me from the car and we silently walked over the dunes using the restaurant’s boardwalk. I walked almost to the water’s edge, slipped off my flip flops and turned north. I walked a few minutes then broke into a slow jog. Neil kept pace.
It worked. A half hour later I was a sweaty mess and my mind was blank. Neil wasn’t even out of breath. I turned around and tried to pick up the pace. The first half hour successfully numbed me. Now all that mattered was my pace and breathing. I counted in a one-two pattern, keeping my stride even, the constant counting an easy mantra.