Chapter 14

Ada was never a fan of sweatpants, but Leon had picked up a pair of them for her along with some other clothes. She wasn't going to complain at his hospitality, but still, she wished she had worked up the nerve to tell him her size so he could have picked up something more her taste. At least they were comfortable, and they weren't really half bad. She was just used to more expensive and more fashionable loungewear. It was better than wearing a dress that needed washing though, or—God forbid—wearing his clothes.

Now if only she could do something about being bored out of her mind. There wasn't much to do around the apartment, and even though Leon had a satellite dish and about five hundred channels on an impressive entertainment system, she got the impression that he didn't use it much. It felt like she was living the life of an unemployed slacker who sat around watching really bad daytime soap operas. Unlike a slacker, however, she at least could kill a few hours by doing some exercising.

When the door to the apartment nearly burst from its hinges, she jumped off the couch instinctively. She'd been half-expecting an attack the last day or so, but her gun was in the other room. Now her own carelessness was going to get her killed. She had just mantled the back of the couch when she suddenly stopped her sudden rush to arm herself.

It was Leon…and he was glaring at her.

"Leon…what's the matter?" she asked. Her nerves relaxed…but only a little.

The look he focused at her sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't anger; it went much deeper than that. Whatever it was, his upper lip curled back, and both of his hands were tightened into fists. She took an apprehensive step back as he walked, no, stormed straight for her.

"You…you…"

For a split second, Ada thought he was going to hit her.

He didn't, but he reached out and slammed her against the wall by the shoulders. Not hard enough to hurt, but her cracked rib picked up the slack as the impact registered through her body. Her elbow bumped the drywall behind her, and a hanging picture clattered to the floor with the sound of broken glass.

If she had known it was coming, she might have fought back or resisted, but the fact that it came from Leon of all people rooted her to the spot. One of his hands had her by the shoulder, the other on the opposite upper arm. Both squeezed tightly. Impulsively she wriggled, but he pushed her back again, and she immediately went still, save for her fluttering breath. Her rib throbbed angrily, but it felt distant.

"Leon—"

"You set us up!" he yelled.

Flabbergasted, all she could do was gape at him and try to twist free of his grip again. When she did, his hands only tightened further. Painfully. "Leon, what—"

"You set us up!" he repeated. "Should have seen it from the beginning—"

"Leon, what happened?" she managed to get out.

"He was waiting for them…" he hissed.

"He?" she asked, and then the chill in her spine intensified as she put it together. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "He…Wesker. Oh God, what happened?"

The force of his fingers remained for a moment, but he finally let go, albeit not gently. He took a few steps back, running a hand through his hair as if he lost interest in her. Ada quickly shifted to the side, giving herself some room to move while avoiding the broken glass near her bare feet.

"He was waiting for them," he repeated "Chris and Jill moved in on Spencer, and Wesker was waiting for them. Spencer was already dead when they got there."

The questions and possibilities flew through her mind as she struggled to comprehend what he just said. How did Wesker find Spencer? Maybe they had been working together the whole time…but Wesker killed him? Why wait until now? But then…

"Leon," she asked carefully, "What happened to the BSAA?"

He didn't turn around, and his silence only increased the dread growing in her stomach.

"Leon—"

He finally turned. "She's dead," he spat. "Jill is dead."

The words hit like a bullet. Jill Valentine, dead? She didn't know her personally, but it was a shock to hear it.

…unless Wesker was involved.

"…and Wesker?" she asked.

"Undetermined," he said with a bitter scoff. "All I know is that Jill dragged him off a cliff. They haven't found either of their bodies, and there's no way they could have survived the fall. Chris is still in shock, and I just got off the phone with his sister. She's frantic."

So that was what happened. She looked away, not sure why she felt as guilty as she did. Everyone knew what they were getting into, what the risks were, but none of them expected Wesker to be waiting for them. The feeling of him setting a trap was unnerving, and a small part of her was glad that it wasn't sprung on her. A very small part. The other part of her wanted to be glad that Wesker was dead, but it was like Leo had said: they weren't sure if he was yet.

When she looked back to him, he was looking at her accusingly.

"You think I had something to do with it?" she asked, an indignant crimson blush spreading across her cheeks when she realized what really had him so angry. It was soon joined by a glare of her own. "You think I set the BSAA up? Leon, you have no idea what I went through to get that information, or what I risked trying to get it to you! Both of us almost got killed!"

"And it was a pretty convincing show, too," he said dryly. "But it wouldn't be the first time you had to get a little beat up just to put on a good performance."

She bared her teeth, but held back the words that nearly sprang from her mouth as well as the slap she wanted to give him. What he said felt like a blow to her face. The trust she had with him was fragile on the best of terms. Now it was gone, it wasn't her fault, and he wasn't even giving her the benefit of a doubt.

"Leon, I didn't have anything to do with this," she snapped. "You knew the risks. They knew the risks. I knew the risks. Do you really think I would go and betray your trust just to take a shot at the BSAA? I thought that I could help you, because I didn't have anyone else left to turn to!"

"I'd really like to believe you, Ada," he said quietly. It wasn't his tone that boiled her temper, but the half-assed grin he threw with it. Like it was all a big joke that had been sprung on him. "But I think I've been doing too much of that."

With an indignant scoff, she dropped her gaze and brushed past him, intending on leaving for good. Her jaw clenched as she held back what she wanted to scream at him. If he wasn't going to listen, then she wasn't going to say anything.

Except as she brushed past, he grabbed her by the wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Away, since you obviously don't think I'm worth your time." She jerked back, but his grip stayed firm. The hurt of his words and the sense of betrayal spread to her gut. "Let me go!"

His face remained bitter as he let out a harsh laugh. "You think you can just walk away? You think I'm going to let you walk away?"

"Leon…" she warned. "Let me go."

He shook his head in amusement. His eyes showed a cold resolve that, with an air of cold familiarity, she recognized from Spain. Right before the parasite briefly took control and started to strangle her, only his grin wasn't as wide and maniacal, and his eyes didn't glow a dull red.

"I should have dragged you in kicking and screaming. Screw whether my organization is corrupt or not. Maybe they'd be doing the world a favor if they—"

—she lifted her leg between them, the flat of her thigh burying deep into his crotch. Leon broke off with a grunt and dropped to his hands and knees like a sack of bricks, coughing.

Bastard! How could he say that?

She stormed off, leaving him gasping, but she didn't make it five steps before her anger was replaced with guilt. It was easy to hate him, but that would just be rationalizing it. He had every right to feel the way he did. The reason why he could barely trust her to begin with was her own doing, and now, when everything came undone she had nothing left to patch the wound. If she walked out now, it would be the same as pulling a gun on him when his back was turned The same as using a kiss as a distraction. The same as leaving him with a bullet in his gut.

Ada shook her head in frustration, then turned on her heel and walked back to him. "Leon, I'm—"

—he lashed out, hooking his arm behind her knee, and then yanked back. She tumbled to the floor, crying out as she landed on her injured rib. The carpet dulled some of the impact, but stars still swam behind her eyes as her skull hit the ground. Then she was being turned over, heavy weight pinning her down.

She grunted and thrashed, suppressing the agony from the pain in her ribs as Leon settled on top of her. He had one of her arms locked behind her, but she managed to pull the other free before he could complete the pin. She flailed up and behind her, feeling an impact and his grip loosen. With a heave, she threw herself as much as she could to the side, managing to just topple him.

Even though she got to her feet first she didn't have any idea what she was going to do, but it didn't matter. Leon caught her by the ankle and jerked again, but this time she managed to control her fall and land on her butt, then pull back her leg and kick off his chest as he tried to dive on her. She got back to her feet.

"Leon, what are you—" she managed to pant out before he got up and launched himself at her again.

He grabbed her arm, to which she responded with a palm to the chest, unwilling to strike a more vital spot. This only allowed him to grab her other arm, and he pushed her back into the kitchen counter. With his advantage in weight, he was able to turn her around and lock her into a crude half-nelson, pressing her body between the counter, a few dishes, and his own body.

"Should have dragged you in the first chance I had," he grunted in her ear, tightening his hold. His breaths were ragged with effort.

She grunted indignantly, then again in frustration as she thrashed futilely under him. The plate that was crammed against her cheek slid off the counter and broke, and then she bucked her head up, feeling the back of her skull connect with his chin. The hold loosened just enough for her to get one arm free and push against the counter. Unfortunately, she smashed her own chin onto the counter as forced his weight off. Hot pain spread through her jaw like fire.

"Leon, stop it!" she yelled. "I didn't set you up! Just listen to me!"

He lunged for her, holding his chin, but she easily ducked under it. Too late she held back the sharp jab that landed on his ribs as she shuffled back. Leon grunted, but didn't show any other sign of pain as he rounded on her again. His hand closed on her arm, and she punched again, this time clocking him in the eye. She briefly wondered why he hadn't even tried to land a blow and only settled for restraining her. Probably because every hit she had landed so far only increased the guilt building in her gut.

I doubt he'll hold a few punches against me at this point, she thought bitterly. Maybe it'll knock some sense into him.

She skipped around the edge of the counter, but realized that it was a stupid move that trapped her behind it. Leon tensed low like a wrestler, carefully calculating her moves. Ada was poised to dodge either way, but didn't have enough room to evade properly. She was still thinking of a strategy when he moved.

She wasn't fast enough to dodge the charge. His shoulder speared her gut, igniting her ribs, and he slammed her into the fridge. Magnets and a utilities bill clattered to the floor. She managed to draw back her arm, intending to strike the side of his neck, but her blow was clumsy, and he shrugged it off at the shoulder, then pinned her arm against the door. He had the other at her hip with one arm around her waist.

Knowing she couldn't match his strength, she thrashed anyway, not enough space between their bodies to use her legs—

—he leaned in and his lips were suddenly on hers, forcefully pushing her head back into the door.

A new reflex kicked in; Ada moaned and returned the kiss, suddenly forgetting that he still had her pinned against his fridge with his arms and hips. The last time she had tasted him was in the middle of a gunfight, but it was still as good as she remembered. Heat began to well up from within her body, only this time it wasn't from movement.

Then she realized what was happening over the tidal wave of passion. At the same time, it seemed Leon did too, but she was faster. They broke contact, and she butted her head forward, catching him right in the eye. He stumbled back, reeling against the kitchen counter–

–and she was on him, body pressed against his as she clasped her hands behind his head, drawing her mouth to his. His taste flooded her mouth as her tongue forced its way in to mingle with his. He was good, but she was going to show him how she wanted to be kissed.

His hands were on her, but she didn't care. They were exploring, not trying to hold her down. A thrilling tingle washed down her spine as they suddenly tightened, but all he did was flex, then roll her over, pinning her down on the counter…but gently.

She laughed giddily as he bore down on her, only too happy to coil her legs around his waist as they locked lips again. Anything to press his hips harder onto hers. The malice and fury had disappeared from his eyes, but he still seemed determined, and his mouth moved with a sense of urgency. She gladly matched that urgency.

By the time Leon moved to her neck and collarbone, she was sweating. The room had suddenly turned into a sauna, and the exertion of what transpired had already dampened her clothes. Had that actually happened? It seemed distant now. She couldn't think why they would fight like that. This is what they needed to be doing. What they should have been doing all this time.

She grabbed the front of his button-down shirt, having to feel where the buttons were. His mouth was too busy with her neck for her to see properly. She got one of them undone with eager fingers, but some playful nibbling made her gasp and lose the next one. To hell with it. She simply yanked it up the middle, popping the rest free.

He lifted her up, hands firmly holding her by the thighs while her legs did the rest, still locked around his waist. Somehow, they were able to both claw the garment off without him dropping her.

"Bedroom. Now," she panted.

"Yeah."

His hands were full, so she didn't waste any time getting her own shirt off, then let it fall in the hallway to the bedroom. The heat from his body mingled with her own as they touched chests, and for once, she was thankful that she didn't have a bra to unbuckle.

He all but dropped her onto the bed, but it was a soft, desired landing. The weight of his body pressed her deeper into the sheets as he moved on top of her and together they shed the rest of their clothes. He moved like waves against her, and for the first time, she didn't need to care about who she was sleeping with; the only thing that mattered was that it was with the only person she could ever truly trust.