The police were of no help, they barely asked questions at the hospital. They weren’t taking the threats to Cindy seriously, and as far as they were concerned, what transpired at Stockman and Bose was a lovers’ quarrel.
Marcus walked quietly down the hallway and opened the door to Cindy’s room and paused. She was sitting up on the bed. Her silhouette indicated that she had her legs drawn up, arms around them, and forehead pressed against her knees.
“Cin?”
Her head rose up and turned in his direction, but she didn’t say anything.
He took tentative steps into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“I keep seeing the blood. Keith’s blood.”
PTSD.
He closed the distance between them and sat on the bed. “Do you want me to turn on the lights?” There was a reason why she wanted to stay in the dark when she woke up.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m trying to be brave about this.”
“Is it okay to touch you?”
She nodded and he didn’t waste time wrapping his arms around her, hugging her close.
“He locked me in a basement.”
Marcus stilled, then turned his head so the side of his mouth pressed against her temple. “Who, sugar?”
“My dad,” she replied, her tone lifeless. “I was ten. I came home with all C’s because shit started to get hard to keep up the A’s and I got tired. I wasn’t smart like he wanted me to be.”
“Why in the hell would he lock you in the basement?” He kept his voice controlled, not wanting to let his own outrage scare her from unloading.
“Punishment. He wanted a smart kid, and I’m an only child. I’m all he’s got to make him proud.”
“And your mother? She let him do this?”
“They fought about it, but it was only when my gram got involved that he stopped doing it,” Cindy said. “But …”
“But what, sugar?” he asked gently.
“He wasn’t proud of me anymore. He was ashamed of me. He wouldn’t come to any of my school plays. I was a good actress, but it’s not something he could brag about to his friends or his business partners, I guess.”
“When was the last time you saw your parents?”
“Gram’s funeral.”
“Next time you go home, I want to come with you.” He wanted to come face-to-face with the asshole who’d scarred his daughter’s ability to trust someone’s love enough to open up her heart.
Cindy exhaled in resignation and pushed away from him. “Marcus, I don’t want to have this conversation now, but the truth is, I’m not good for you.”
He knew why, but he wanted to hear her say it. “Why?”
“Look what happened to Trevor—”
“He brought that on himself. You did not drive him gonzo—”
“In my fucked-up way, I might have led him on.”
“Didn’t he break up with you?”
“Yes, but it was an ultimatum.”
“Cindy,” he said firmly. “He should’ve been man enough to take the consequences of giving said ultimatum.”
“And Keith—”
“Trevor’s gun. Not yours.”
“And Gordy might get in trouble.”
“Fuck, yeah, I heard there was a big stain on the carpet.”
“Marcus. Be serious!”
“I am.” He leaned back against the headboard. “Come here.”
“Not sure I want to. You’re going to persuade me into giving a relationship between us a chance. And I’m telling you now, Marcus, it’s a very bad idea.”
“Cin, come here. Don’t make me drag you over here.”
He heard an annoyed huff before she settled into his arms.
“That’s better,” he murmured, enjoying the scent of her shampoo. “Gordy said it’s gonna be okay, but he said for you to work from home or even take some leave while things are hot right now.”
“Izzy told me Mr. Bose is not happy.”
Not happy was an understatement. Gordy said their asshole of a boss was livid and wanted Cindy fired, but Izzy threatened to quit. But his girl didn’t need to know that right now and Marcus was thankful Izabel didn’t say anything.
“From what I’ve heard, it was Rebecca who let Trevor in.”
“Is she going to get into trouble?” she asked.
“She’s getting a suspension pending further investigation.”
Cindy emitted an intelligible sound almost like a growl. “I know I may sound bitchy but this whole mess in the office is her fault.”
“I agree.”
“Keith got hurt and now Trevor is in jail.”
Interesting that Cindy didn’t think her ex was a threat to her safety. “You still don’t think it’s Trevor?”
There was a long pause where she didn’t answer, and she was so still, Marcus thought she’d fallen asleep.
Finally, when he was about to nudge her, she answered, “No.”
“He did come into your office with a gun.”
“He thought it was Keith. Trevor was taking me away to protect me.” A ragged breath escaped her, almost like a sob. “Everyone who wants to protect me is getting hurt, don’t you see that? I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m cursed, I think.”
His arms tightened and he rocked her, comforting her. “Silly goose, you’re not cursed. You’re a blessing, Cin. You are to me.”
“Oh, Marcus.” There was a gentle chiding in the way she said his name, but there was also fondness.
“So you see, sugar. You can push me away as much as you like. I’m not going anywhere. You’re my second chance, lady, and I’m taking it.”
“But look at all my baggage—”
“And look at mine,” he cut her off. “If I was able to dig myself out of that hell of the past five years, you think I’m gonna let a stalker and the scars your insensitive father inflicted upon you stop me?”
“Well, if you put it that way.” He could hear the smile in her voice, so Marcus was quitting while he was ahead.
“I’m going to head back to the guest bedroom. It’s tempting to stay in bed with you, but you’re more vulnerable now than the last time and I don’t want us to accidentally have sex and regret it. Make sense?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He gave her one last kiss on her forehead, because kissing her on the lips was a bad idea and he’d want more and never leave the bed.
He stopped at the door and watched her settle back under the covers. “I’m gonna woo you, Ms. Lake. You deserve to be wooed like the Southern belle you are.”
“I guess you’re a Southern gentleman?”
“You bet, ma’am.”
Her husky laugh was brief, but it was all that he needed to hear to end this difficult day on a bright note.
Chapter 10
A box rested on the front porch.
It was the following morning after Cindy spilled her guts to Marcus about her childhood and her hang-ups with her dad. Her chest felt lighter, as if a boulder had been lifted off it. She’d never shared this with Izabel nor any of her boyfriends, an embarrassment she’d buried deep in her heart, and Marcus managed to pull it out of her within only a few days of his return.
This was what made the presence of the box more annoying than alarming. Her high of feeling liberated from her past was being weighed down by a suspicious package. She stared at it through the screen of her front door.
Curious, but not stupid.
Anxious, but not overly so, because of the man currently walking to her side.
A mug of coffee appeared beneath her nose, and she turned to look at the bearer of her morning caffeine.
“Watcha looking at?” Marcus asked playfully, but his smile slipped off his face when he spotted the questionable object on the porch. He handed her his mug and pushed the screen door open, padded up to the box and crouched in front of it.
His shoulders tensed as he flipped the lid open.
Cindy held her breath.
Marcus’s bod
y started shaking and what suspiciously sounded like a chuckle reached her ears. He picked up the box, stood, and walked toward her, but she was already in front of him, peering into the box.
There, nestled on top of crushed manila paper, were four bottles of kimchi.
“Oh my God, Mrs. Jung, I’m gonna kill you,” Cindy exclaimed. Marcus strode into the kitchen and set the box on the counter.
“She was being neighborly.”
“I guess I’m still fizzy.” Cindy laughed while taking a good gulp of her brew. “She does things like this—leave me things on the porch. I don’t know why I didn’t think it was her.” She looked regretfully at Marcus. “Sorry I alarmed you.”
A frown knitted his brows. “Don’t apologize. You have every right to be cautious after the past few days.” His gaze returned to the bottles and a slight wariness stole over his features. “This is a lot of kimchi. What’re you going to do with all these?”
“I’ll give one to Izzy.” The uncertainty of how things at the office were left yesterday prickled her conscience. Her eyes met Marcus’s. “What?”
“Have you talked to Izzy this morning?”
“Not yet. I was about to call …” Her words faltered when Marcus glanced away, seemingly unable to meet her eyes. “Is there something I should know?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it shut, tried to smile and failing that, took a sip of his coffee instead.
Cindy rested her hands on her hips. “Start talking.”
“Not my place to say.”
“Did Gordy get fired?”
“No.”
Swallowing hard, she asked, “Did I get fired?”
An indecipherable look came over his face. “No.”
She crossed her arms. “Then what?”
“Sugar …” He lowered his mug and reached for her.
Cindy warded him off, circling the kitchen counter and putting it between them. Marcus didn’t follow, but his expression was enough to sink her gut. “Mr. Bose wanted to fire me.”
His non-answer was answer enough.
“And Izzy defended me.” She looked wildly around the house—at the walls, outside the windows, at the ornate backsplash behind her stove. “She threatened to quit, didn’t she?”
“You need to hear it from her,” he said gently.
Knowing no matter how much she begged, Marcus would never tell her, Cindy unplugged her phone that was charging on the countertop.
Her fingers hovered on Izabel’s number, and then she glanced up. The calm resoluteness on his face gave her the courage to find out if her friend put her own job on the line to save Cindy’s.
* * *
It was a windy day on Virginia Beach. The grayish-blue water of the Atlantic Ocean crashed on the shore, teasing her pink-painted toe nails as she sat in the sand. Cindy brushed the lock of hair that escaped her ponytail as she focused on the white caps rippling parallel to the shoreline. The sun played peekaboo in the clouds, warming her skin even as the sting of the wind bit into it.
Marcus sat beside her. It was he who suggested hanging out on the beach while she stewed on a hard truth she could no longer deny. Cindy knew in the back of her mind that she was not indispensable in her PA position, but the truth still stung. Mr. Bose had called Izzy and told her to fire Cindy. Her friend wanted to shield her from that conversation, but both of them knew nothing could be kept a secret, and the office grapevine would catch wind of it.
Izzy suggested she take the week off to think things over.
So here she was, a witness to the tempest of sea and wind, unsettled like the atmosphere churning inside her.
“I think she wanted me to quit,” Cindy said.
“I don’t think so.” Marcus took his eyes off the water to look at her. She couldn’t look at him.
“Not in the way you mean,” she said. “Izzy had always told me I’m meant to be more than a PA.”
“I agree.”
Smiling faintly, she turned her head. Marcus’s blue gaze was so intense, she tried to look away, but in an almost hour-length moment of silence with his quiet support, she owed him and herself the honesty of her thoughts. “Is that so?”
“I see you, sugar. You are happiest in the kitchen. I’m not suggesting you run out and open a restaurant but maybe look around in that line of work.”
“Hmm …” she made a noncommittal sound.
“What else do you want to do?”
She liked helping people. She couldn’t figure out exactly why. Maybe it was to take attention away from herself. When she took the job at Stockman and Bose, she hadn’t expected to stay that long with the company, but tragedy struck Izabel—Drake’s faked death and her following miscarriage—and somehow Cindy found herself staying on, unwilling to abandon her friend. She knew Izzy wouldn’t have wanted her to do that, and Cindy never considered Izzy her project. Now that Izzy had found her happy with Drake and Ana Lisa and after that embarrassing scene at the office, Cindy was finding herself at a crossroads.
A part of her was missing. Like she’d lost a purpose.
“Cin?”
“I’m not sure what I want to do. I’ve only been dabbling in cooking to clear my head, although it has expanded into something else. Could I go into the food industry and make a living out of that?”
Cindy had her own money from Gram, but she didn’t want to bring that up right now.
Marcus opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. She smiled inwardly. He’d been doing that a lot today, as if wanting to tell her something but changing his mind.
A huge bird of prey squawked and cast a fleeting shadow over them. They both looked up, and then lowered their gaze to each other, eyes locked, a shiver of “something” rifling between them—exhilaration mixed with that feeling of “newness.”
As the fickle sun began to set behind them, the voluminous clouds cast in shades of gray and burnt orange, Cindy couldn’t help feeling that a chapter of her life was ending.
“Care to have an early dinner?” Marcus asked. They had skipped lunch because of the rare occasion when she didn’t have an appetite. The perpetual knots that had tangled up inside her since her conversation with Izzy were slowly unraveling.
Her stomach growled and she laughed. “Perfect timing.”
The tense lines bracketing Marcus’s mouth changed into ones for a smile—a devastating one—and her toes curled in the sand.
“How does the Shrimp Shack sound to you?”
“Sounds great.”
* * *
“Food and people?”
Cindy took a bite of her shrimp po’ boy, chewed, and contemplated Marcus’s question. They’d been going round and round on what she should do next. She was thirty years old. It was time to take a good hard look into herself and find her relevance in the masterplan of life. “Maybe?”
“You can continue recipe development.”
“It’s not a full-time job. More like something I do for fun.” She resisted adding to help someone because she was starting to sound like Mother Theresa. The truth was, although she’d like to think she had an altruistic spirit, she was ashamed to admit it was because she didn’t want to receive the help herself and feel reliant on other people.
Thanks, Dad.
Deep down Cindy knew why she was messed up, but didn’t have the guts to figure out why until now.
Marcus raised the longneck to his mouth, drawing her eyes into following the path of the bottle. He paused mid-swig and tilted the bottle at her, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Quit that.”
She blinked at him in all innocence. “What?”
“Stop worrying about me. I can handle my alcohol.”
“But …”
“I’ve told you before, sugar. I’m not a textbook alcoholic. My drinking was spurred by my issues and I’ve worked through them.”
“You have?”
This time the smile disappeared from his face. Cindy imagined that was his get-in-line face. The face he gav
e his men when he wanted them to listen up. Except in Cindy’s case, it made her lady parts quiver.
“Quit that.” He repeated sternly, belying the softening of his eyes. “You’re deflecting again.”
“I am?”
“Stop trying to fix people.”
Was that her instinctive response?
“We’ll have to train you to think about yourself first.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a dog to train.”
Marcus looked as if he wanted to say something but took another pull of his beer instead, but not before she saw the flash of his grin.
“Or one of your men,” she added.
“None of my men are as gorgeous as you are.” He rested the bottle on the table and stared at her intently, his eyes full of innuendo.
“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Harrelson?”
“I suppose so,” he drawled. “But I’m serious. Stop deflecting and tell me about that Instagram account you have.”
His tone was flirtatious right back, but held a whole serving of sincerity, and for the first time in Cindy’s life, she felt her battened-down insecurities break loose and drift away.
She started talking.
Chapter 11
With each passing day, Cindy’s self-confidence grew. The idea to focus on her strengths—her love of eating and interacting with people—coalesced into a plan. She researched hospitality management degrees at the local universities, figuring what to add to her present credits from the community college. She had done hostessing and waitressing jobs before, but her interests were definitely in the kitchen. There was one particular Italian restaurant she’d worked in where the chef-owner would teach her how to make the perfect veal scallopini and other dishes and, on slow nights, even let her cook for the customers.
Cindy always enjoyed that and she’d wondered why she’d pulled back from following that path. It was obvious to her now that it was confidence in her skills that were lacking.
Guarding Cindy (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 7
