Phoenix:
19:
Eagle
2005
Massachusetts
When Ashley awoke in the dark, she was alone. Surprised, she rolled in the sheets to find him smoking on the hotel room's balcony. She hadn't known he was a smoker. In fact, he'd seemed so against it in Spain.
But what smell came through the door wasn't cigarettes, not precisely. It smelled like what? Cloves? Or a cigar? Something.
Quietly, she called, "That shit will kill you."
He turned, naked and gorgeous, and he tossed the little cigar in his hands over the balcony. She rose in the sheets as he entered the room in the moonlight. He looked...what? He looked angry? Something.
He paused at the edge of the bed, and she thought he'd pick a fight. He just looked so mad. She couldn't figure out why, but it didn't matter. The sheets slithered around her as he cupped the back of her neck to draw her to him.
She went, sparkling with want, shimmering with need.
Softy, she queried, "Why are you so mad at me?"
He paused. He eyed her. And he just shook his head. "I'm not mad. I can't be mad. I just..." He shook his head again and gruffed, "I don't know what the hell I am."
Softly, Ashley encouraged, "Me either...when I'm with you...I just know I'm happy. I love you."
He denied that and tilted her face to him, where she knelt on the bed before him. "You don't," he grunted, "You don't, Ashley."
Quietly, a little hurt, she breathed, "Don't tell me what to feel, Leon. I'm not a child."
"...I fucking know you're not a child. Believe me." His hands skimmed down to weigh her breasts. Her eyes crossed as her head went dizzy again, and he added, "Kiss me."
She did. No second command necessary. She leaned in and kissed him slow and deep. She'd been right; his mouth tasted like the sweetness of cloves. He kissed her slow and long. When she trembled, he tugged her close so she could feel the thick jut of his dick against her belly as they curved together.
And that thing happened again. That sweet, soft, sexy, sliding and rolling and burning thing. It made her breathless. It stole his too. He indulged it and put aside his own guilt to do it.
He laid her back on the bed. He tugged her body to the end of the mattress. He dropped to his knees on the floor. She might have asked what he was doing, but then he just...showed her. He showed her. He lifted her legs and slid them over his shoulders.
He slid her nightgown up her belly and put his hands on her breasts beneath it. He cupped her. He molded her. And he put his mouth against her.
Her tender body accepted his tongue. Her thigh quaked. She lay back on the bed with her hands in his hair and let the warmth ooze like honey through her body this time. No rush. No race. No boil.
Just a slow build of warmth. She came with a high moan, her body jerking but her thighs quivering and seizing around his face. When she was nothing but pliant wax in his arms, he slid up her body. Her nightgown bunched under her arms as he ascended.
Her legs parted and let him between. He slid atop her and adjusted her hips. His hand slid down to find the angle. He rubbed his dick over her slick folds, and she whimpered. And her tight body welcomed him inside when he pushed into her.
It was still tender, but his entrance was swift and smooth. Her body opened. Her mouth opened to the flavor of his tongue. And there was a distinct taste that was her on him.
No pornstar fucking now, she thought as he glided in and out of her sucking center. He made love to her sweetly, gently, and slowly. The tender walls of her body snuggled and hugged him within her - complete. When he shifted her to slide her nightgown over her head, she let him.
Their hands blended and held above her head. He lifted to see her face in the moonlight. Her feet hooked behind his ass at the hips. She watched the muscles in his chest and arms bunch as she drove into her body, and Ashley keened, "Oh, god..."
Voice hoarse, he demanded, "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head: no. No. Her mouth gasped, "Please...no...please?"
She hadn't a clue what she was pleading for. More, clearly. But more what? But she knew that too - more Leon.
He shifted and slid her right leg over until she was hips to the side, and the angle was sharper, deeper, as he corkscrewed her body enough to find that place inside her. She squealed sweetly, quietly. Her hands snapped to grab his face as she pleaded, "Oh, god...why does it feel like that!?"
He laughed gruffly softly and leaned down to kiss her, "Like what?"
Her skin felt golden and seeping with need as she squeaked, "Like you're brushing over every part of me every time you move."
Tone thick like honey, he answered, "That's just sex, sweetheart. It's orgasm. Let it happen."
Ashley whimpered quietly, "Dear god, why did I wait so long? Do other people know about this? How do they get anything else done? Why do they do anything else?"
The way she spoke was high-pitched and precious. Her eyes crossed. Her skin flushed. Her pupil dilated. She creamed and quivered and came apart.
And he just laughed. He laughed and kissed her again.
She was so fucking naive. So perfectly pure. She was wonderful.
And she loved him.
She didn't know him, not really, or she wouldn't love him.
He was damn sure of that.
When his thumb slid against her folds and over her clit, she tensed. She cried out, "Oh, shiiiittt..." And she came around his slowly surging dick.
Her eyes filled with tears as she came. She humped into his body. She held on. And Ashley gushed, "Holy moly...oh my gawwwd..."
She was adorable.
She was beautiful.
And she loved him.
He didn't deserve her. He hated that he didn't, but he didn't. But it didn't stop him from sliding her leg back over and mounting her. He pinned her arms over her head and increased his rhythm. She was wet and slick and open now after two orgasms. She was ready. He held her down and stopped being soft.
The noises were wet. The slap and surge of flesh were punctuated by sucking completion as her pussy tried to seize around his invading cock and take it with him for the assault. She kept keening and jerking up to meet each merciless thrust he gave her.
The bed smacked the wall. The cool air tickled over his sweaty back. She caught him with her eyes and held them, held him in her gaze, between her legs, and in her fucking heart. And he wanted it.
He wanted to feel it and her and this and everything he hated that he wanted. Some iceman he was, he thought with a grunt as he transferred the hands holding her down to her face to bring her up to kiss her as he plowed her; he couldn't separate feelings from fucking anymore than she could. He was a failure at casual fucking.
Clearly.
His body signaled he was close, so he demanded, "Say it. Ashley, say it."
Heart racing, body bouncing and slapping, the slurp and slap and suckle of sounds like a symphony around them, Ashley all but screamed, "Leon! God, I love you!"
And he hated that it worked like a charm.
He hated that it went into his balls as he grunted. He speared her mouth with his tongue and dumped his fucking load in her. He came in her while she clutched and clawed at his back and took it.
He jerked up her hips to hold her against him and tried to grind his way into her fucking womb or something as he nutted so hard his eyes crossed, and he was fairly sure he blew an aneurysm in his brain. He basically shoved her into the wall and the headboard to hold her still while he erupted, and she screamed and held on, shaking, quaking, cumming in answer - the perfect partner for his plunging greed.
When the storm passed, he gathered her in his arms and slung her around him, holding her like a blanket against his own damn guilt.
She curled around his body like a desperate thing, kissing over his sweaty shoulder and neck, sucking his earlobes, and laying lips against his until he opened his mouth and let her guileless tongue make a home for itself inside.
He wanted to love her.
He didn't.
He didn't even know if he knew how. He was starting to think his love for Mira wasn't real love. It couldn't have been. Because though it had crushed him to feel her betrayal and lose her and the baby she might have carried, it didn't feel like this. This felt...good. It felt good and pure somehow. It felt soft and gentle and somehow consuming at once.
He didn't know if it was love.
But he wanted to. And for a man like him, that was almost the same. Almost, but not entirely. Almost, but not perfect.
Almost...but not good enough.
But it didn't stop him from holding onto her like it was.
His phone rang in the darkness. He rustled in the blankets until he found it to answer it. Ashley was still half asleep when he roused her as he exited the bed.
She shifted in the sweaty sheets and murmured, "You ok?"
He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I gotta go."
Surprised, Ashley sat up in the moonlight. "What?"
"I gotta go," he shifted away from her, looking like Agent Kennedy as he located his clothes, "There was a massive outbreak in Boston. I have to deal with it."
"But you're on my detail."
He gave her a look that made her start to miss him as he returned, "I know. They've stationed Nora with you to replace me."
"When will you be back?"
He said nothing. He slid on his jeans and ran a hand through his hair. Ashley pulled the sheets around her chest and demanded, "You gonna look at me?"
He didn't. He kept on finding his clothes. Feeling a roll of insult and pain, Ashley felt him pull away in more than just body as she urged, "Leon?"
He paused. He slid his jacket over his t-shirt and finally looked at her. "I don't know. Soon, I hope. But you're training is done. You'll be assigned a mission soon. You don't need me anymore."
She sat in the sheets where he'd loved her and met his eyes in the moonlight. "What does that mean?"
He said nothing. He started putting on his boots. She waited. He remained silent as he gathered his wallet and keys.
Annoyed now, hurt, Ashley demanded, "You gonna answer me?"
He turned to face her and looked cold. There was no other word for it. Finally, he grunted, "I don't know. That's how this works. You know that."
She stared at him. He shook his head. He muttered a curse as he stepped toward the bed and crouched. She looked out onto the balcony and didn't meet his eyes. The hurt resonated through her as he grumbled, "I'm sorry. We'll talk when I get this over with."
Ashley laughed harshly. "Sure. Sure, we will. You think I don't know the brush off when I get it? I hear you."
Leon shook his head. He tucked the hair behind her left ear. "It's not a brush-off. It's the job. I can't make promises here, Ash. I can't. You know that."
She said nothing.
He urged, "Look at me."
She did, reluctantly. But he wasn't cold now. He looked soft. He looked gentle. He looked kinda sad. She hated him a little for it.
Their eyes held. The silence stretched. Finally, he said, "I'll call you."
Ashley gave him a cool look. "Sure."
"I'm sorry."
Her eyes flickered. "For what? You're right. You warned me. And I know by now this is what I signed up for. I know that. I'm the dumbass who got attached."
Leon skimmed his fingers over her cheek. He caught her chin and tugged her forward. She went, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he told her, "We'll figure this out."
Ashley felt the shiver of pain as she wondered, "What's to figure out? No promises, right? It was good while it lasted."
Aching, he rose and stated quietly, "I'm doing the best I can here, Ashley."
She shook her head. "No, you're not. You're running. It's what you do. So run. Run from the stupid girl who thinks she loves you. Go ahead. Go, play hero. I'll be fine without you."
"Don't do that. I'm not running. This is the job, Ash. It's the job. You know that."
She said nothing. She knew she was being stupid here. She knew that. She wanted...what? What did she want him to say? This was the job. She'd always known that. It was her job, too, now. He owed her nothing here. But she wanted...what? More.
More Leon.
It was that simple. She'd let Leon become her world, and her world was leaving. Her world was fracturing again. This time because she'd made the mistake of getting too invested in the man who'd once saved it.
And he wouldn't be there to save her now.
She wanted to keep him...and he wasn't hers to keep. She knew that. She did. But her heart...her heart...her goddamn, stupid, needy, desperate heart...it didn't understand that she couldn't be his world. She couldn't. He was a man who was meant for more than just being hers.
Trying again, she declared, "Go on. I'll be fine."
Softly, he answered, "You will. You think you won't. But you will. You're gonna be great."
She gave him a dirty look. "Don't patronize me, Mr. Kennedy. Just go."
He looked at her sadly before he said, "I'll call you."
She laughed again with hurt. "Sure. Stay safe, Leon."
She listened until he opened the door of the suite. She waited. She heard him hesitate and called out softly, "I love you."
She heard the door stop closing. She heard him stop again. He kept hesitating. He kept pausing. He didn't want to go. Why didn't he stay? Why didn't he just stay with her?
But she knew that too.
He wasn't a guy who had a choice.
He'd made damn sure she'd known that from the start.
Finally, his voice came back to her, hoarse and sad, "...I'll miss you."
And that was all she'd get from him. She had a feeling she'd spend most of her life missing him if they both kept this up.
The door closed quietly.
She waited about ten seconds.
The cold air on her dewy flesh felt like icy needles of emptiness. She put her face in her hands and wept. It broke out of her like rushing and gushing water from a broken cup. She indulged the weeping until she was purged.
She wasn't mad at him. She couldn't be. Why should she be? He wasn't hers. She knew that. She'd always known that. And he'd given her the best night of her life.
She had no right to be angry.
But she was angry.
Not at him. Not exactly. But at her life. At her love. At her heart for giving a fuck about a man she couldn't keep. And at herself for getting so damn attached to him. It was stupid. She'd been told repeatedly that there was no place for it in his life they led that she'd chosen.
But here she was, wanting him. Here she was, missing him. Here she was, afraid she couldn't exist without him.
Stupid.
Childish.
Real.
She didn't need him. She didn't need him. She didn't need him. The pillow beside her smelled like his hair.
And she clutched it to her like a shield as she lay in the dark and yearned for him.
But she didn't call out for him to return, which was almost like a win.
2006
Sangre del Christo, New Mexico
Ashley stood roasting in the sun. The early sunrise was still brutal, tearing up the desert around her like fire from the fingertips of a volcano. She drew a heavy breath, hating whoever said the heat was different and less horrible without humidity.
At the end of the day, hot was hot. It didn't matter if it was hot or wet. Your skin didn't give a shit if it was dry sun. It just didn't.
She reached the peak of the ledge and found her footing. She rose and touched her ear, "Baby Eagle in position."
"Good," Nero returned, sounding calm and collected, "open the case and set up. The caravan will be crossing in about ten minutes. You're gonna want to get the shot off without a hitch, Graham, because there's no second chance here."
Ashley went about setting up her sniper rifle. She went belly down and found her eyeline. She kept the road in the distance in her scope and adjusted for length and wind resistance.
The dust kicked up as tires roared in the distance. The chase was on. Kevin led the charge, pulling the chase cars onto him as he went. The Jeep tore up sand as it hit dunes and flew, landing in a fluff of gold.
In her ear, Nero stated, "The second car back, green and white. Passenger side right window in the back."
"Got it."
"Don't miss."
Ashley waited. She watched. Kevin cut across the road and toward the distant peak. He hit the brakes, spun the Jeep, and circled back toward his pursuers. They scattered, as planned, and broke their protection protocol on the target. Ashley aimed for the green and white Land Rover, waited, and counted the seconds.
And then she fired.
The bullet zipped. The wind caught it. Her breath held.
It hit the window without a sound from this distance. The Land Rover jerked wildly as the driver realized his charge was dead or wounded. It hit the sand and flipped, flying up and over and landing topsy turvy as it crunched and collapsed under its own weight. The chase cars circled it like vultures on fresh kill as Kevin's Jeep shot off into the distance.
Ashley waited, watched, and saw the scattering of men go for the flipped car. They shouted. They wrenched open crunched metal and pulled the body free. It flopped on the ground, and even this far away, she could see the side of the head exploding in gore and brains.
Job done.
One more bad guy was eliminated.
She'd become quite the crack shot with a sniper rifle.
Down in the dunes, Bernard Chenowith - an arms dealer out of Calgary- was no more, and with him went another tendril of Umbrella. He'd been selling black-market bioweapons from Canada to the Mexicans. He wasn't selling anything but his soul to Saint Peter now and hoping for absolution.
Ashley packed up her gear and headed down the mountain. At the base, she climbed into the Jeep passenger seat and let Kevin shoot them off into the sunlight. He glanced at her as they went, "All good?"
"Target eliminated," she stated in a bland tone.
Into her ear, Nero remarked, "Well done. Get back to base camp for extraction."
Kevin waited as the silence drug out, and he navigated the desert, "You ok, kid?"
Kid. Leon called her that sometimes. Kid. She wasn't a fucking kid. She hadn't been in a long time. Annoyed, she snapped, "Sure. Another dead bad guy, right? This is what we do."
Kevin arched a brow at her. "Somebody having a crisis of conscience here?"
Ashley shook her head and sighed, "No. No, I'm not. I'm glad. That guy was selling lickers to terrorists. I don't give a shit about him. I mean...you ever think we were targeted?"
Kevin laughed lightly. "Of course we were. We survived bioterror. We saw firsthand how this shit works. They played on our desire to save lives and spare people. It was one hundred percent profiling."
Ashley sighed, "I wasn't, though. You know? They did everything they could to keep him out of it. And I fought my way into the program."
"Why?"
Ashley looked out the window at the mountains. They were beautiful - deemed Blood of Christ for their extraordinary red beauty; it was hard not to find them breathtaking. She looked at them and decided, "I wanted to matter."
Kevin nodded a little. The silence dragged out until he answered, "You just saved thousands of lives with that one bullet, Graham. I think you matter."
Ashley glanced at him. He winked at her. She studied his bearded face and considered him. He'd asked her out again shortly before their mission. He did it reflexively, not really expecting she'd say yes. He just flirted. It was his thing.
She hadn't seen Leon in months. He had yet to call. She hadn't really expected he would. She knew he was busy. Hell, she hadn't had more than a handful of days to herself since she'd started taking missions. She hadn't called him either, so she was just as guilty.
Maybe she should take the hint here. Maybe she should take the date. She studied Kevin and said, "...thanks. You're pretty smart for a big dumb oaf."
He laughed good-naturedly. "The ladies love me. What can I say? Dumb is in, Graham. Didn't you know?"
Ashley chuckled and patted his dirty thigh. He was filthy. He was bloody. He was a little beat up. Kevin was the fist in the face to her bullet in the dark. They made a good team. They often paired together.
They'd handled a variety of missions where she had to cover him. She worked best in the shadows. He worked best in the middle of the madness. Together, they effectively covered all scenarios.
Maybe the fact that he reminded her of Leon made her enjoy his company so much. He was Leon without a filter and a chip on his shoulder. Kevin laughed where Leon would have stoically pushed through. Of course, he wasn't nearly as professional as Leon, but few were. Maybe that shaggy hair made Ashley see Leon's face every time she looked at Kevin.
Or maybe it was being in love with a man. Maybe you just saw them everywhere.
Maybe she should just let go of Leon and move on.
But she couldn't. She wasn't ready. She wanted him so much that sometimes she considered buying a damn pillow with his face on it and sleeping with it. She didn't. But she thought about it.
She didn't know if she'd ever be ready to just let go of Leon Kennedy. Somehow, he'd become the greatest ghost of them all. No matter where she went, he haunted her.
