Chapter 14
—Sometimes the truth sucks.—
Leighton kept Lucy close to him—in his lap—as they sat in her living room. Her condo was plush and in a prime location. With a panel of windows looking down on New Orleans—windows he’d covered with the floor-to-ceiling curtains—a faux fireplace, brightly colored furniture and eclectic accents, the place felt like her. Bright and full of life.
“I think you should reconsider letting me make you come,” she murmured, reaching for a small remote control. She pressed a few buttons, and a moment later the fireplace flared to life and soft jazz music streamed in from hidden speakers.
He groaned at her words, burying his face against her neck. Yeah, maybe he should.
When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Will you tell me more about yourself? The real you. Not the fake file I have on Spencer Johnson. Or…I’m assuming those details were fake.”
He snorted softly. “Yeah, that info is fake.” It would stand up under scrutiny, and he was certain that her uncle was having a hell of a time trying to figure out who Spencer Johnson really was. Good luck hunting, asshole.
“So…come on.”
He felt weird talking about himself. “All right. I grew up…in South Carolina.” He wasn’t going to give her the name of his hometown just yet. It linked him to Brooks—and if something happened and Lucy was questioned by her uncle, he didn’t want that connection out there. “I joined the Marines as soon as I could. Was in for twelve years. Got out a couple years ago.”
“Why?” She watched him with her big eyes, her dark hair curled around her face and shoulders in soft waves.
They shouldn’t be talking. He should be kissing her senseless, taking her right here in front of the fireplace. Hell, even thinking about it had him getting hard again. But all he had to do was think about the reason he’d gotten out of the Marines and any desire withered. He closed his eyes, sighing.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Her voice was as gentle as the hand that cupped his cheek.
He covered her hand, held it close for a long moment. “I want to. I want you to know the real me. Not that trust fund jackass cover.”
She giggled softly. “Spencer Johnson wasn’t a jackass.”
Leighton lifted a shoulder. “Well, he wasn’t me. I…got out of the Marines not really for one reason. Not…specifically, exactly.”
“It’s really okay if you don’t want to tell me.”
But he did. He was just having a problem getting the words out. “After a while, I started feeling drained, I guess. Just, tired all the time. I love the guys I served with and I always thought I’d be a lifer. I think after so many tours I just got burned out. I didn’t realize it at the time though.”
Once he started talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. And she just sat there, patiently listening as she curled up in his lap.
“There was this mission. I can’t tell you where or any details, but it was overseas. We were looking for a high-value target. He had information we needed. We’d been staking out this village and…without going into all the details, shit went sideways. People died.” He cleared his throat. “Kids died.” Closing his eyes, he leaned into her, breathing in her vanilla scent. “It wasn’t the first time I’d dealt with that. For some reason, that op just hit me wrong. After the op, I saw some of the pictures from the aftermath. There was this one image of a charred teddy bear missing an eye…”
He took a deep breath and looked at her, trying to force the words out.
“Until that day, I’d always been able to compartmentalize stuff. Or that’s what I told myself. So I tried to tell myself that the picture was a teddy bear. But…it wasn’t.” He couldn’t force the rest out. Couldn’t voice aloud the lie he’d told himself so he could still function.
But she didn’t need him to. “Oh. Oh,” she repeated, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
He simply leaned against her, breathing in her intoxicating scent. Being held by her grounded him for some reason. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
She hugged him tighter.
He leaned his cheek against hers. “In the end, the outcome we needed from that mission was a failure.” And more innocent people had died. He left that part out, not wanting to burden her with anything more. Pulling back, he continued. “It’s strange. That day wasn’t even the worst op I’ve ever been on. But something about it just changed me.” Jesus, he was like a sieve over here, pouring his guts out, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You’re a good listener,” he murmured.
She gave him a soft smile and thankfully there was no pity in her gaze. Just understanding. She leaned forward and brushed her lips over his once. “Everything you’d been through probably just piled up onto that one day. All that stuff you thought you’d been compartmentalizing? It spilled out. We can only keep our demons at bay for so long.”
“You are very smart, Luciana.” He liked saying her full name.
She liked it too, if the way her cheeks flushed pink was any indication. “No one ever calls me that.”
“It’s sexy… You’re sexy.” That was the understatement of the century. She was this adorable, sweet, sexy woman he wanted to know everything about. He wanted to peel back all her layers.
“So are you.”
He just grunted, which made her smile. “Now it’s your turn to get personal.”
“Well…I’m sure you have a file on me since you and your team, ah…researched my uncle, I guess?”
Feeling guilty, he nodded. “Yeah. But I want what I can’t know from a file.”
“That’s fair.” She cleared her throat. “I guess you know about my parents?”
“I do. If it hurts too much—”
“It does hurt, but I have a lot of good memories of them I never get to talk about. Before…before they died, ah, my parents were really great parents. Amazing, actually. I tried half a dozen musical instruments before I realized piano was the only thing I had a real talent for—this was all before I was ten. And they never gave me any grief. I did the same thing with sports, trying to figure out what I liked. Turned out, I’m not so great at the team sports. They let me figure out what I wanted without being pushy. I can admit I was a bit spoiled by them. My dad took me out on a ‘date’ once a week, just him and his little girl. He also took my mom out once a week, then the two of us out together. And we always had Friday evening game night. He was so giving of his time. They both were.”
“It sounds like he loved you both.”
“He did. There…was never any hint of anything wrong. Ever. Sometimes my dad would frown when another man would look at my mom too long. Or flirt with her. And she’d just pat his chest and say ‘Andrei, you think every man flirts with me’ and he’d respond with something like ‘I can’t blame them, you are the most beautiful woman alive.’ My mom would laugh and shake her head but I knew she liked it. My mom didn’t work outside the home, but he always told her if she wanted to, she could. Of the two of them, my mom was way more traditional. She’d probably be annoyed with me for how much I work. Though I think my dad would be proud.” Sighing, she laid her head against his shoulder. “I haven’t talked about them in a very long time. After they died, I just closed off completely where they were concerned.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re a good listener too, it seems.” She sighed as they both watched the crackle of the fake fire in front of them.
“What about growing up with your uncle? Was he…good to you?”
“Knowing what I know now, it feels weird to say it, but yes. He wasn’t anywhere close to how my parents had been. Not loving or emotional. But he gave me anything and everything I could have wanted. He sent me to boarding school, made sure I got the best education, got to vacation anywhere I wanted. He took care of my trust and didn’t abuse it. He actually helped it grow. But he wasn’t my parents. I’m going to sound like ‘poor little rich girl’ here, but he didn’t give me what I needed. What any kid needs. Love and affection. I always strived for his approval.” She snorted derisively. “Now that seems ridiculous. What Uncle Alexei thinks doesn’t matter,” she muttered.
“You are an extraordinary woman.”
“Hmm.”
He pulled her closer, resting his cheek on top of her head as they both curled up on the couch. After a while, she shifted slightly, settling more against him. She didn’t seem to need any more words and he was just fine with the silence. With Lucy, it was comfortable, felt right.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but soon she dozed, snuggling up against him even closer. She must know she was safe with him. Which she was.
The one thing he knew without a doubt was that he would keep her safe no matter what it took. He just wasn’t sure if he should tell her everything he knew.
That her uncle had very likely killed her parents, leaving her an orphan. After what she’d told him about her parents, combined with the information Gage had gotten, it seemed even more likely that her parents had been killed by the man who raised her.