High Risk

CHAPTER 37

A brush over her cheek woke her

Everything had gone quiet. Shockingly quiet, with no helicopter or voices. Something soft cradled her head, and she glanced around to discover the familiar walls of Marcus’s bedroom. He sat beside her, reaching out to stroke her hair behind her ear and down over her shoulder. “Sleeping Beauty wakes.”

Curtains closed, no clue of the time of day. “Did I pass out?”

He shook his head. “Fell asleep. Like a rock. There was no need to wake you, and sleep was the best possible thing.”

She rolled slightly and stretched, arms overhead, back arching. Aches and pains in muscles screamed that she’d gone from full out to full stop way too fast. “I won’t even be embarrassed. Much. How are Colin and Rob?”

“Rob’s in a cast and Colin spent the night at Devon’s place. I think they’re getting along well.”

“It’s morning? Wow.” Although after crashing, sleeping around the clock wasn’t unexpected. She stared up at him and wondered what to say. “Your truck’s at the cabin.”

He smiled. “Anders and a friend are picking it up for me.” Marcus shifted to his feet and offered his hand to her. “Grab a shower. Get dressed. I’ll make you some food, and then we can talk.”

The hot water washed away the rest of the cobwebs but didn’t help her get any further in making a decision. Becki tiptoed into the living room and spotted him moving easily in the kitchen. Strong body, arms flexing as he worked, and something heated inside.

She didn’t want to give him up. That was all she knew.

Slipping beside him, she ducked under his arm and planted herself against his body, wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed, her ear resting on his chest.

The steady pulse of his heart soothed her.

“You should eat,” Marcus scolded, but he cuddled her in spite of his protests.

“I need to tell you what happened more than I need food.”

She was recovered enough that if he’d argued, she would have stomped on his toes before dragging him to the living room.

“I want to know,” Marcus confessed. He turned off the burner, then scooped her up as if she were a feather, coming to a stop by the couch.

When he sat and refused to let her out of his lap, Becki smiled. “I can sit by myself.”

“I need to hold you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. The emphasis had totally been on need in that phrase.

She caught his face in her hands. “You were right. I didn’t do anything to cause the accident. We could have made it off the mountain in one piece, but Dane chose—”

She drew in a long breath through her nose and fought for control.

He waited for her to continue, his own tiredness and confusion showing in his expression, his concern for her in his touch as he stroked her arm.

“Dane chose to die. When I call the authorities, we’ll ask them to check for preexisting medical conditions. Contact his birth mom.”

“Who cut the rope?” Marcus asked.

“Dane.” Becki shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t understand why someone would choose to die before he had to.”

“Are you saying he committed suicide?”

She nodded as she fought back the tears she’d refused to cry earlier on the trail. “He was so young. And smart. I just don’t understand.”

Silence answered. Marcus shifted position so they were still holding each other, but there was enough distance that she could look him squarely in the face. He examined her cautiously, as if checking to ensure she could handle more.

She fell a little more in love.

He cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “When I got hurt—the accident. It should never have happened.”

“You were out of the country?” He’d never really told her what he did for work back then.

He paused, only for a moment, then let her have it all. “I worked for whoever hired me. Did a couple of military jobs, but those were few and far between. They like their own people in position, but the word got out in some circles that I could climb anything. So I got calls. Ones on the quiet side. Paramilitary, usually.”

This wasn’t what she’d expected. “You were military?”

“No. I was—well, anything they needed, except I never carried a gun. I did actual rescues. I snuck into bedrooms. Sometimes they needed recovery of some object, sometimes a door opened and access gained to a restricted part of a building. I’d climb whatever they pointed me at.”

“Recovery. This is all sounding very James Bond.”

Marcus nodded. “There were a few times I climbed in a tux after leaving a fancy party. Including the day it all went to hell.”

Tension curled around him, and she adjusted position to rub his shoulders. She didn’t understand, but she didn’t want him to stop. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because people make choices, Becki. Not always the ones we’d make in the same situation. I slipped out of the party I’d been planted at and climbed the building until I got in an open window. One of the team was waiting for me, and once I’d turned off the alarm system, he joined me.

“Only the place got bombed. Friendly fire—or at least friendly to us. The military reports had said there wasn’t supposed to be any action until the next day, and that’s why we were in there, gathering information before it all got blown to hell.”

Becki shuddered. “The building blew up on you?”

“Parts collapsed. Most of the partygoers survived—the offices were in a different section of the building. Only we got caught, my teammate and I. Trapped under the rubble.” Marcus stared at the wall. “My hand was crushed. He got pinned under some concrete, his legs mangled under the mess.”

“Oh God, Marcus.” She didn’t like where this was going. “How long were you there?”

“Four days, but it was enough. We tried everything to get free, and nothing worked. We passed in and out of consciousness at times from the pain. And then—” His nostrils flared as he swallowed hard. “He made a choice, Becki. One that I didn’t want to make. He offered to shoot me.”

She bolted upright, shocked. “Why the hell would he offer to do that?”

“Because he figured we were going to die, and he wanted to die on his terms. He gave me the same choice.”

Her stomach rolled, and she was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten before this conversation.

“I tried. I tried so damn hard to talk him out of it. To persuade him to hang on, that there were options.” Marcus closed his eyes, his face tight with sorrow. “In the end I couldn’t save him.”

“It was wrong. It was the wrong decision.”

Marcus nodded, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pulling their foreheads together. “It would have been the wrong decision for me. I chose to fight on. To wait and see what else would happen, and deal with the consequences. I knew my arm would probably be gone, but I didn’t think giving up my hand meant I should give up my life.”

The idea of him not being there tore into her soul. “Marcus, oh God. Your hand doesn’t matter. Not one bit.”

“It still tears into me. That I couldn’t stop him. That’s my nightmare—that’s what torments me.”

She brought their mouths together and kissed him. Needing his touch, the beautiful connection that had built between them to brush away the images in her mind.

Marcus held her tenderly but refused to take the embrace further. He pulled them apart and resorted to stroking her back in the hopes of distracting her. Maybe it hadn’t been the right time to share his story, but when would it be right?

“In the end, we all make our own choices, Becki. Dane made his. Right or wrong, we can only go forward.” Marcus stilled the urge to curse at Dane, though, for taking his own interests into the forefront and not thinking of what his decision would do to Becki.

If he hated Dane for anything, it was for being selfish and hurting someone he’d said he loved.

Becki nodded. She slid her fingers down his shoulder, finishing by holding his forearm. Her clasp growing stronger by the moment. “So . . . where do we go forward to?”

Marcus wanted to shout an answer—that they’d stay together—but she needed to make her own decisions. Only, like hell would he give up without a fight.

“You have wide open doors again, Becki. Once the reports come back from medical to confirm what you’ve remembered, you can do anything. Teach here, go back to SAR in Yellowstone for the fall.” She stiffened even as he spoke. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Whatever was wrong, it was killing him. “Becki?”

She glared, all the softness of the previous moment gone. “You trying to get rid of me?”

Wait. “What?”

“You just told me to go back to Yellowstone. Nice.” Becki released him so fast he thought she was going to fall backward off the couch, and he reached out to steady her. “What happened to the offer to work with Lifeline?” she snapped.

“That’s still on the table, but—”

“That’s not what it sounded like. Seemed like you said I’d go one way, and you go the other? Bullshit.”

Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, either. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Becki grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Back in the cabin you said you needed me. How does that work if I go back to Yellowstone, Marcus? What kind of relationship you looking to have when we’re miles away from each other?”

Laughter burst out of him unchecked, and her eyes went wide with surprise. He hurried to calm her. “You, woman, are one of the most fascinating people I have met in my entire life. The way you jump to conclusions sets records. Listen to me. I didn’t tell you what I was going to do. I asked what you wanted to do.”

“But—” She snapped her lips together and nodded her head once, her rage dampened. “I’m still too wrapped up in layers to be able to deal with anything but straight-up facts.”

“What do you want, sweet Becki?” he soothed, bringing their bodies into contact, the heat between them rising. Her torso relaxed against him as he stroked her back. “Because if you want to work for the school here in Banff, or Lifeline, you can. If you want to go back to Yellowstone like you told Alisha, then you can go. But whatever you decide, I’m not leaving you.”

She released the death grip she had on his shirt, instead pressing her palms to his chest. “You’d come to Yellowstone? But the team . . . Lifeline.”

“I don’t need to be here for the team to continue,” Marcus pointed out. “The squad is important to me, but it’s not who I am. Not anymore. Other things are far more important. Worth changing my life for.”

“Oh, Marcus.” Her hands slipped up to clutch his neck.

He lowered his voice, whispering the words. Trying to convince her how serious he was. “I’m going to stick tight until you give up and decide you want me around all the time. The good, and the bad. I want it all.” Marcus smiled, loving the way she fit against him. The way she’d fought when she’d thought he was leaving her. “I told you I’ve been haunted by what I failed to do. Since you’ve come back into my life, the darkness is fading.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Becki nodded slowly. “Just like it wasn’t mine.”

“Our lives, our choices. My choice is I want to be with you. I love you, Ms. James, and no matter where we live, that’s not going to change.”

Becki stared in shock. Even quietly spoken the words had exploded out of him, and she could barely believe her ears. “You . . . love me?”

“Yes. Does that seem so terrible?”

She shook her head. “I expected it would take tying you to a chair and threatening to do horrible things before you’d admit it.”

“Well, I’m not as stubborn as you thought.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. Brief, mouths just touching, then away. “I’m waiting. . . .”

Joy bubbled up inside. He loved her—there wasn’t anything that could have brought this rush of days to a more fitting conclusion. Except teasing him a little, because it felt like the right thing to do.

“Waiting for what?” She batted her lashes.

He rewarded her with a smile, the one that turned her insides to sheer mush. “You want me to tie you to a chair? Wouldn’t be a hardship on my part.”

This time Becki kissed him. Wet wonderful heat passing between them as she possessively wrapped her arms around him. Hell, wrapped herself around him. When they finally came up for air, contentment rolled off her in waves. “I do love you. And you’re what I want—I don’t care where we live.”

“You’d said Yellowstone was home,” Marcus reminded her.

“You’re home,” she insisted.

It was a long way from their beginnings to where they were now. An impulsive girl and adventure seeker, now grown up and tangled in something bigger than she’d ever thought possible.

When he rolled her under him on the couch and convinced her all over again that they belonged together, Becki knew she was right.

This was home.