MARCUS (Dragon Security Book 4) (12 page)

Marcus

We ditched the truck and disappeared in the airport, of all places. It was a small airport, but big enough to disappear inside of. We slipped into a booth in a dark restaurant, my hands automatically moving over Cadence, looking for more wounds.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s what you said before.”

“Do you want to go into the bathroom and strip search me?”

There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, but I was on the verge of accepting that challenge. Things were quickly spiraling out of control and I needed to feel that I had some grip on the reigns.

I’d tossed the burner phone, just in case. I didn’t want any connection to anything that might lead to another attack. I needed to get Cadence to safety.

“Let’s go to Florida.”

I looked at her, my head cocked slightly. “What?”

“Let’s go to Florida. I know a place on Key West we can use. It’s secluded, hard to reach. I don’t think anyone could catch us by surprise there.”

“You’re serious?”

“We’re in an airport.”

“I don’t have those kinds of funds. I couldn’t just—”

“I do.” She took my hand under the table. “We could disappear for a week or so, give your friends time to find whoever’s doing this. Get a tan.”

“This place…it’s defendable?”

She tilted her head. “I’ve never had to look at it that way, but I think so.”

I touched her face, imagining her in a bikini on a Key West beach. I kissed her forehead, considering all our other options. We could steal another car and drive east. We could hole up in a hotel and pray that no one notices we’re there. Or we could fly somewhere.

Key West was as good as anywhere else.

“They could trace the flight. We’d have to use our real names.”

“Then we fly to Miami and drive the rest of the way.”

I smiled. “I like the way your head works.”

We found one of those kiosks that allow you to buy tickets without talking to a human being. Cadence used a credit card number that she had memorized, paying several thousand dollars for two tickets to Miami.

“This isn’t going to cause you trouble when everything is said and done, is it?”

She glanced at me as if she thought I was joking.

“Didn’t anyone tell you? I’m worth almost as much as Blake Zimmerman.”

She got up and started away, but I grabbed her arm, pulling her back on the little bench in front of the kiosk.

“Excuse me?”

She laughed. “My grandmother was a very thrifty woman. She never spent a penny of the money my grandfather left her when he died and it just sat in the bank, growing and growing. When she died, she was worth a lot. And all that money came to me. And I…well, I was always really good at math. Investing is like a simple math game.”

“You’re rich?”

“Filthy. But I don’t go around telling people that because I don’t want them asking for money for their get-rich-quick schemes.”

I studied her face for a long moment, remembering the man from her past she’d briefly mentioned. Is that what happened with him?

“Well, princess,” I said softly, brushing my lips against her temple. “Remind me to be nicer to you.”

She laughed again, but there was an uneasiness in it. And that confirmed my guess.

The flight was uneventful. I half expected cops to be waiting for us when we disembarked, but no one bothered us. We borrowed a car from the long-term parking—a 1970s era Jeep this time—and started the long drive to the keys. It was a beautiful drive, but it grew dark before we were half through it. We stopped at a Walmart—nice, anonymous places, these Walmarts—and stocked up on clothes and food. I talked her into a skimpy, pink bikini. She blushed furiously when I held it up to her, but she put it in the cart.

It was touching on the wee early hours of morning when we arrived at the house on Key West. It was a beautiful little bungalow set practically on the edge of the water.

“My grandfather fancied himself something of an artist, apparently. I didn’t even know this house existed until my grandma died because she never mentioned it, never even suggested we come out here. The lawyer told me she rented it out year round, taking in money in rent that paid for the upkeep. But she never came here.”

“That’s a pity.”

I walked around the low building, running my fingers over the vintage beach furniture. It looked like something Ernest Hemingway himself would have found enjoyable.

“I came here for the first time a month or so after the funeral. I couldn’t believe how beautiful this place was. I seriously considered just throwing in the towel and coming out here to live for the rest of my life. But I couldn’t imagine living such an idyllic life, you know? It would drive me crazy not having anything to do with my time.”

“I’m sure you could have found something to do. Some beach bum would have loved to share this place with you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I would have been happy with just any beach bum.”

“Oh?”

She lifted off her shirt and headed toward the back of the building. “No. He’d have had to have been a very special bum.”

I followed, lifting her shirt with the tips of my fingers. I found her bra just outside the bedroom door. When I pushed the door open, I found her, silhouetted in the moonlight coming in through the French doors that opened onto the beach. She was slowly slipping out of her jeans, her curves made even more beautiful as the faint light glowed on her skin.

How could I resist that?

I went to her, lifting her up and stealing her lips. I didn’t carry her to the bed. No. I wanted to see her in full moonlight, wanted to see the full glory of the moonlight dancing on her skin.

I pushed open the French doors and took her out onto the rustic deck that surrounded the house. She nibbled at my throat as I carried her to the rail that separated the deck from the beach. The wood was smooth under my hands, under her ass. Then I stepped back, clinging to her hands as I did, staring at her here in this place, in this world that was practically made for her.

“You belong here.”

She shook her head. “This is a place of recreation. Temporary.”

I shook my head. “You look at home in the moonlight. It’s like you were made to be here, in this place.”

She smiled softly. “And you? Where were you made to be?”

“Wherever you are.”

I moved back into her arms, stealing another kiss. She melted against me, her hands moving slowly over my body, slipping under my clothes and touching everywhere. I loved the feel of her, loved the way her body fit mine as if they were meant to find one another. I’d never believed in the whole soul mate thing, but she was turning me into a believer.

“Is it possible,” she whispered against my mouth, “to need someone this much after such a short time?”

“I’m beginning to think it is.”

She watched my face as she reached inside my pants and took me into her hand. I closed my eyes, the pleasure so intense that I had to take a minute to keep from losing complete control. And then she guided me to her and the need just became overwhelming. I cried out, tugging her so close to me that I nearly pulled her off the rail. I wanted to lose myself in the feeling, but I needed to see her face, needed to see the pleasure in her eyes. And it was there, dancing in the moonlight, affection and trust and desire that I didn’t deserve.

As I made love to her there in the moonlight, I knew it was time to tell her everything. Despite the fear that she would never look at me this way again, I knew I was doing her a disfavor by not telling her the truth about the man she thought she was falling in love with. Because that man…it was all a lie. And she needed to know that.

Cadence

We lay tangled in the bed, the remnants of an impromptu meal around us: deli meats and cheeses, fruit, and crackers. It was the most delicious meal I’d ever had, probably because it was the first food I’d had in my stomach since this recent ordeal had begun. And it helped the antibiotics go down easier.

My shoulder ached. My thigh ached. My hip hurt like a bitch. But I was alive and wrapped in a bubble of happiness like nothing I’d ever known before.

“We need to talk, Cadence.”

I refused to be frightened by those words. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked him in the eye.

“What about?”

“I shot at you.”

A stone sat on my chest with those words. I’d tried to forget that little part of our history together. But it was impossible to ignore.

“I know.”

“You have a right to know why.”

I ran my thumb over his bottom lip, wishing I could keep the flow of words inside a little longer. But I simply nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

His blue eyes moved over me like water in the ocean, begging me to understand before he’d even said a word. Then they dropped to the bed, to our legs tangled together, to my bare breasts so close that they were nearly pressed against his chest.

“I told you, I once had this girl I thought I was going to marry.”

“And Blake stole her away.”

“Not exactly. But, that was part of a bigger disaster that was happening in my life at the time.” His eyes came back up to mine. “You see, I had the perfect life. I had good parents, a father who owned his own business, a mother who was the queen of giving, of charity. She was chairwoman of every charity that ever existed within a thousand miles of Chicago. She got awards from the city council for her generosity. And my brother, Bobby, was intelligent and kind and generous, just like mom.”

“But perfection is hard to maintain.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with grief as he watched his finger play over my skin. “It all began to fall apart the last month of my junior year. The NFL scouts had been sniffing around me for more than a year, but I promised my mom I’d get my degree. I knew, though, that they would draft me the following spring. I was going to marry Kelly and play four or five years in the NFL, then I’d join my dad in the family business. I had my whole life planned out.”

He was quiet a minute longer. “I woke to the news. My father had been indicted for embezzlement. He stole from his own company to cover gambling debts. I hadn’t even known he was under investigation. My parents didn’t feel the need to mention it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He touched my lips. “That’s not even the worst of it. He was indicted, but my mom stood by him, insisting he was innocent. That was okay. We could face the future if he was innocent. I came home for the summer, went to the meetings with his lawyer. But then…a week after football season started, after the scouts began coming round again, he pled guilty. He had decided he would rather make a plea deal than face a long, drawn out trial. My mom…she was devastated. I had to go home for a couple of weeks to talk her down, to keep her from completely falling apart. When I got back, the scouts had turned their attention to Blake. He was new, and he was good. But not as good as I was.”

His hand moved down over my throat, his thumb brushing my bottom lip before sliding over my chin.

“About the same time, Kelly announced that she’d spent the night with Blake while I was gone and she thought she was in love. I lost it, believing that I needed her in order to get through this family ordeal. I confronted Blake with her words and he laughed. He said it was a one-night thing, and he didn’t see why she’d ever bothered to tell me. It didn’t matter, he said. She was just one in a long line of girls he’d warmed his bed with. And that seemed to make it worse, and I just lost it. I took a swing at him.

“I was still reeling from the fight, and serving out the one-game suspension coach put on me when my mom called late one night. Bobby had come home. He had leukemia and he couldn’t handle it on his own anymore.”

“Oh, God, Marcus,” I moaned softly.

“She wanted me to come home. She couldn’t handle my dad’s upcoming surrender date and Bobby’s cancer all at the same time. She’d handled other people’s problems for so long, but she couldn’t handle her own. But if I left, I’d give up my chance to be drafted into the NFL.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sat up quite abruptly. He ran his hands over his head, a low groan vibrating through his chest.

“I was frightened. Overwhelmed. In less than five months, my entire world had turned upside down. The courts were raiding my parents’ house, confiscating their belongings to pay his debts. My future was disappearing right in front of me. And my mom needed to lean on me, but I felt like a brittle old tree branch, as if any more weight would make me snap.

“I argued with her. Told her I needed to stay where I was. And my father agreed. He said it was important that I fulfill my dreams. And that struck me as selfish and made me want nothing to do with my future. I was a senior at Notre Dame, cruising through my classes with a 3.9 GPA. I was on top of the fucking world, but it had all suddenly turned to shit. I had to get out of there.”

He wouldn’t look at me. His eyes were lost in the past.

“I ran away. I’m not proud of it. I ran away and left my family to deal with their own mess. I joined the Marines, hoping to be sent to Afghanistan, hoping that I’d step on some land mine or IED and that would be the end of my problems. I thought my life was over and I had nothing else to live for.”

“Marcus…”

My heart hurt for him. I touched his arm, but he pulled away, sliding back on the bed. He needed to get it all out and he needed me not to feel sorry for him. And I didn’t. I hurt for him, but I didn’t pity him.

“Mom wrote me and told me how hard it was. She and Bobby were forced to sell the house and move into a small, one-bedroom apartment. I sent her my pay every month, but it didn’t help much. His medical care was astronomical and she couldn’t afford the kind of insurance we’d had when Dad was the CEO of his company. Bobby died during my first tour in Afghanistan. I could have asked for leave to go to the funeral, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to be reminded of all I’d lost.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My mom was all alone. She was the one the courts came to for the remainder of the monies owed. She was the one they pressured and made miserable for what my dad did. She was the one who suffered—this woman who’d been given all these awards by the city was suddenly a pariah no one wanted to know. It turned out she wasn’t the strong woman I thought she was.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth, the horror of what he was implying washing over me like a cold sheet of snow.

“I had nothing to go home to when I left the Marines. Nothing but highlights of Blake’s career, the career I should have had. Pictures of Kelly’s wedding to some doctor she’d met at graduate school. Letters from my dad, begging for money to fill his commissary accounts.”

He shook his head, clearly disgusted. “I came to Texas because Blake Zimmerman was here. If he hadn’t been injured, he’d still be living my dream. I wanted to see that, see what that was like. I wanted to know everything there was to know about him. I wanted to know what I’d missed out on.”

“You wanted to punish him.”

Marcus looked sharply at me. “No. I don’t blame him. Guys like Blake are victims of their own success. He thinks he’s entitled to anything he wants. He thinks that every girl, every success, everything is just there for the taking—because it always has been.”

He touched the side of my face. “I saw him with you. I saw the way he was looking at you. It was the same way he looked at all the girls who chased after him in college. The way he looked at Kelly. And all those girls? He used them and threw them away like they were disposable.

“I watched you in that restaurant, the way you spoke to your friend, the way you looked around the room. The way you saw through me…knew I was broken.”

“You heard that?’

He smiled softly. “Every word.” He sobered, his eyes filled with grief. “I didn’t want Blake to use you and toss you aside. I knew a girl like you would take that to heart. It would break you and there are enough broken people in the world.”

“So you tried to scare me off.”

“I knew someone was trying to hurt you. I knew it would make sense to everyone if someone took shots at you. And I was hoping it would frighten you badly enough that you would tell Blake to stuff his surrogacy.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You’re more stubborn than I imagined.” He ran his hand carefully over the stitches on my leg. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I want to be a good man, but I’m not sure I’m capable of it. I run away when things get hard.”

“You haven’t left me.”

“No.” He met my eyes, leaned in, and kissed me gently. “But I don’t want you to count on me. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. Again.”

“I’m sorry.” I took his face between my hands and stared into his eyes. “That’s not your choice. It’s mine.”

“Cadence—”

“I won’t walk away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me because of what you might or might not do. And I won’t give up on this because you think you’re this bad person.” I caressed his cheeks with my thumbs. “The thing is, babe, you were young. You were faced with obstacles no one should have to face all at once that way. And, yes, you ran away. And, no, maybe it wasn’t the best option. But it was the option you chose. You have to own it and move on. It doesn’t have to define you for the rest of your life.”

He kissed me again. “You’re so much more than I deserve.”

“But you’re exactly what I deserve.”

He chuckled a little. “I never thought of it that way.”

We kissed for a long moment, our lips refusing to give up that sweet contact. And then we slowly fell back onto the mattress and curled into each other, finally falling into a deep sleep that was long deserved. And I…I’d never felt more secure in all my life.