SEALs of Honor: Markus (17 page)

And that he wouldn’t want anyone to know it or to mention it. But he loved deeply, this man. And he lost hard. He was also not as comfortable as he’d like everyone to think he was around women. Sure, he’d been in a long-term relationship, but she doubted he’d been with many women since. And likely never longer than a few weeks. That would push his buttons. Anything longer than a few dates became a relationship and could bring back painful memories.

“Are you a doctor, Mason?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. None of us are but we’re all decent medics.”

“Because you felt responsible.”

Mason slowly raised his head from the wound he was cleaning and studied her face. “Very perceptive.”

“What?” Markus growled at him. “Why the hell would you feel responsible?”

“Doesn’t matter why. You’re part of my team. If I could have saved you I would have.”

“Not me,” joked another huge man from behind her. “I spent too many months in the hospital, thanks. I’d have thrown you under the bus.”

Markus chuckled. “Hell, Cooper, you probably would.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t,” Bree whispered. “He’s worried you’re hurt worse and might have to go through something like he did.”

There was an odd silence then Cooper said, “Are you psychic or something?”

She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be fun? But no, I’m not. I just understand people. Especially when it comes to people’s relationship to injuries, death, and of course the whole process of dying.”

“A grief counselor?” Swede, standing behind Mason, asked. “You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I’m not,” she said, exasperated. “I’m an investment advisor, but I have way too much experience with death and that fine edge of dying.”

Mason looked up over at her. “You almost died?”

She nodded. “And stayed on the precipice for a long time. Life is a gift but not one most people appreciate.”

“So true,” a new voice said from behind her.

She studied their faces. “Do you all work with him?”

They nodded. “We’re all part of the same unit.”

“Right. So you all do the same dangerous shit he does and put your life on the line for those of us who can’t every day, too?”

They all nodded.

“Thank you for your service,” she said in a low voice. “It’s a job I couldn’t do even if I could.”

From the looks on their faces, they understood what she’d been trying to say.

Markus squeezed her hand.

“Is it bad?” she asked Mason.

“No. He’s just going to be sore for a day or two.”

“But it’s only a graze?” Markus asked. “Didn’t cut any muscle tissue.”

“So no heavy lifting.” Mason nodded.

Bree scolded him. “And that means leaving my fat ass on the ground.”

“Ha, if you were heavy maybe, but you got a long way to go to get out of mosquito status.” He smirked.

She understood it was his way of dealing with the relief of being not badly hurt, but still he had to take it seriously. “It’s important. You listen to Mason.”

“Yeah, with you being sensitive and all, Mason doesn’t want to hurt your feelings by repeating his warning,” Swede said.

Markus’s glare said he was promising retribution for the teasing.

She patted his huge thigh. “Be nice. He cares for you.”

Markus leaned his head back along the headrest and closed his eyes.

Mason went to say something but she shushed him. “Shh. Markus is trying to rest. He needs a nap.”

Mason stared at her.

“No, I’m not.” Markus snapped. “And I wouldn’t.”

*

“Why wouldn’t you?”

She seemed genuinely curious, so he didn’t take offense. “Because I’m a warrior. I don’t take naps.”

She stared at him. “But you were sleeping earlier.”

He stared at her. “When?”

“When you were holding me in your arms.” And damn if she didn’t pat his hand yet again.

“I was power napping,” he tried to explain.

“Right. Like I said, sleeping.” And she sat back down in the seat as if she’d won some kind of argument.

He shook his head. There was no point in trying to explain. Besides, his friends were once again grinning like madmen. Talk about having fallen down a rabbit hole.

He felt like shit from his injury, but the crazy emotions, the laughter, the surprises…hell the joy of just being around her…well it was offsetting some of that pain. Since when had a woman made something like that happen? His wife was as different from Bree as could be. She’d been a biologist, working in a lab full-time. She’d loved facts and figures and all things analytical. She’d been a math brain. Bree on the other hand… Then again she was an investment broker and that just didn’t match up with the bubbly urchin beside him either. Still, she hadn’t gotten there on nothing. Maybe it had been stress that had sent her careening down the path of illness, but it also showed she had smarts. She was so emotional. So caring. He didn’t know what to do with it. With Fiona, after so many years they already knew how each other would react in a situation. They’d tease each other and sometimes push the limit like all relationships were wont to do. They’d fought but not often and not over anything important – no matter what it seemed like at the time.

She’d been reserved. Quiet. Refined. Bree was emotional, quiet on the inside but quick to defend herself and those around her. She was a bleeding heart. And she felt things deeply. She’d been taken to the cliff, tossed over, and found her inner core to be stronger than she thought. He understood. He’d been taken to that same point as part of his training, then time and time again through his work. And after the first time, the rest was much easier. When you’ve lost everything but this one thing that you have to beat… One thing that you must surmount or else you are no longer there – well, it makes you face the nitty gritty of who you are inside.

She’d gotten there in a different way – but she’d also done what he’d done – they’d both succeeded in facing who they were and moved on. He could respect that. In fact, he admired it. The only other people he knew who’d been through something similar were his friends. They’d all gone through BUD/s training where the chaff was separated from the wheat, and only those with the stamina to see it through stood beside him. And that achievement had settled something inside him. He’d understood the limits the human mind and body could go and still thrive.

She had too.

He stared down at his hand she cradled as if she could impart her strength to him. To take away his pain and help him through this. He didn’t need the help but she didn’t know that. More than that it wouldn’t matter to her, she’d believe everyone could use a little more regardless.

If he were honest he
was
feeling better. And it had nothing to do with the fact that according to Mason the injury in his shoulder was minor. It had everything to do with the woman at his side.

So maybe she was right after all.

Mason poked him. He slanted a glance over at his friend and raised an eyebrow. “What was that for?” he asked.

Mason shook his head, but his grin kept twinkling. “Nothing. You’re bandaged and good to go.”

Instantly Markus dropped Bree’s hand and fired up the engine. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere.” Mason shook his head. “The local authorities have this one.”

Markus shook his head. “I’m the one that got shot,” he protested.

“And they are also seriously shorthanded. I heard them talking about it at the diner,” Bree snapped. “There’s only two men here right now.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s a town of less than forty thousand people,” she said. “One of the officers is on holiday and one of the others just injured his leg. He’s in Anchorage getting it x-rayed or something. They are expecting a replacement any time but for the moment there are only two men in the office.”

The men studied her then looked at each other. Mason grabbed his phone and stepped slightly back and out of the way.

She motioned to the men around Markus. “Can’t you take the sniper out? My intruder is the arsonist. So who is doing the shooting? He’s probably the same man that hurt Jake. Besides, one of your own got shot, can’t you go after him and put a stop to it?” She smiled at them. “I’m sure they need your help.”

“Still need to have authorization,” Markus said quietly.

“And we just got it.” Mason gave a feral smile. “Everyone but Markus, with me.” And the place scattered.

Markus glared at the group as they all disappeared, gravel spitting out in their wake.

“Damn it.” Markus pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

Bree patted his hand. “I know you’re disappointed at being left behind, but…”

He turned to look at her. “I’m fine,” he growled.

“Liar.” She laughed at his disgruntled look.

H
e wasn’t happy
at all to be left behind. She could sense the frustration rolling off his back.

“Can we drive back to the bed and breakfast, now that the shooter has run out the other end of town, and collect the rest of my stuff – again?” she asked. “Before someone decides to burn it down, too.”

She stared into the night. “Also did anyone check with Doris, the owner of the bed and breakfast? Make sure she was okay?”

“She wasn’t home,” he said. “Someone checked.”

“Well, she should have been. That’s her home, too,” Bree exclaimed. “Maybe she’s locked up in one of the other rooms.”

Markus studied her carefully. “What do you know of her?”

“Not much. I saw her at the diner a couple of times, and we chatted over a meal earlier, but nothing personal.”

He nodded and turned on the engine, then turned the truck around. “Let’s go find out if she’s there.”

“Will the cops have shown up here yet?” she asked, wondering if she should have brought it up.

“I doubt it. If as you say there are very few officers here then the shooter is going to take priority.”

He drove back to the B&B, pulled up in front and studied the dark house.

“It should be dark inside, right?” she asked. “It’s after midnight. If Doris is home, she’d be sound asleep. And if she’s not here, then it would be dark too.”

“Maybe, but wouldn’t there be outside lights?”

“Not sure there were any to begin with,” she said. “On second thought, I don’t think she’s there. It looks deserted,” she announced. She opened her truck door only to find he was already standing in front of her, his hand out to help her. “You’re very good at looking after someone.”

He grinned and joked, “I’m better at killing people.”

“Good,” she said seriously. “Someone needs to be.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” he asked in surprise.

She shook her head. “No, why should it?”

“I’m gone a lot, the work is dangerous. Every mission is fraught with secrecy and danger.”

“Sure, but you love it. And someone needs to do the job. Why not you? Besides, like you said, you’re good at it. Making you the best man for the job.”

He laughed. “There’s your optimistic viewpoint again. How do you know I’m any good at it?”

“ ’Cause you’re good at everything.” She said it simply because it was the truth and all the more powerful when stated without adornment. She had learned a lot about human nature in her past jobs. People’s relationship to money was a big one. Their position in the world. Where their place was in the world.

It gave her an interesting insight into humanity. At the same time she worked with the climbers of the company. Those wanting to get to the top and stay there. But of course getting to the top was a decade long struggle and there was no way to stay at the top as there were always more climbers coming along behind, ready to push them off. The higher one went the longer and harder the fall.

She was a good example. She’d been climbing her own way to the top when she’d been diagnosed. It had been a painful reality. She’d fallen off her perch and due to the nature of her illness she’d fallen all the way to the bottom. Initially there’d been sympathy all around and that had been quickly followed with everyone slowly but visibly separating from her as if by putting distance between them, they’d get to live and keep climbing. Like, wasn’t it terrible what had happened to her, but thankfully, at least it wasn’t them.