by Jan Graham
He piled the information into a backpack, then went hunting for anything Nik might need during his stay in hospital. Toiletries, a black silk robe, sweats and T’s to wear—instead of the two, snugly fitting hospital gowns, one draped around his front, the other at his back with open sides that Nik currently squeezed into—a few books, the music player, tablet, and headset he’d found near the bed, plus Nik’s personal mobile and wallet with his real ID and a bit of cash in it, both of which he’d left behind when he went undercover. On his way out, Marcus grabbed some contraband. A couple of fine tumblers and a bottle of Bundaberg Rum, Master Distillers' Edition. Nik only drank top shelf Bundy, and Marcus suspected after all he’d been through and once he’d recovered a bit more, the big guy would want a stiff drink. He managed to find chargers that fit all the devices, packed everything into a duffel he’d found in the cupboard, and headed back to his car. He had two more stops to make before he could head home to Beth.
As he pulled up to the undercover house they’d rented as part of Nik’s cover, the guys were busily loading the moving truck, getting ready to take the furniture and boxes of household shit back to the warehouse Marcus owned.
As Hex walked past him with a couple of suitcases, he grabbed the duffel he’d packed for Nik and followed him to the car.
“If they’re Nik’s clothes you can drop them over to his place and give the key’s back to Billy once you’re done.” Hex snatched out his hand, catching the house keys Marcus threw to him. “And can you deliver these to the hospital for Nik? Be careful though, there’s some top shelf cargo in there with matching glasses.”
Hex laughed as he took hold of the duffel and placed it carefully on the front seat of his SUV. “Yeah, I think he’ll be needing a stiff drink if the hospital stays an extended one.”
“Tell him I’ll come to see him tomorrow,” Marcus stated before heading over to check on the rest of his crew loading the truck.
“Are we nearly done, fellas?” He stepped aside as Red hoisted a washing machine onto the back of the tray like it weighed nothing at all, ready for Syn to drag it into loading position.
“Not long now, Boss, we’re nearly loaded,” Red replied.
“Who’s handling the car?” Marcus asked, walking over to check out a piece of paper wedged under the wiper blade. Let’s hope Nik didn’t have a ticket of some sort that he hadn’t noticed.
“That’d be me,” Sykes called out from the doorway as he exited with a large box. “I’m going to take it to the carwash on the way to the warehouse. I haven’t cleared out any of the shit that’s in it yet, I’ll do that when I clean it.”
“Have you got the keys?” Marcus asked. “I’ll clear it out while you guys load up.”
“Sure, in my pocket. Let me get rid of this, and I’ll open her up.” Sykes headed to the truck.
Marcus noticed Nik’s undercover name scrawled on what he now saw was an envelope placed under the wiper. As he pulled it free the damn thing flicked from his fingers and caught a breeze sending Marcus dancing across the driveway and further into the front yard as he stomped around trying to secure it under his foot to stop it escaping. When the two-step finally ended, Marcus reached down and grabbed it. Tearing it open revealed a red card with black script. Upon reading it, Marcus froze.
“Opening it up now, Boss.” Marcus turned to see Sykes point the black keyring at the car, his finger positioned to press down on the keyless entry button. He dashed toward Sykes pushing the man toward the back of the truck, but it was too late. “What the…”
“Down,” Marcus yelled just before the explosion sounded.
Bits of metal flew up and out. Smatterings of heated glass spraying out in a circular direction on all sides of the vehicle. Marcus felt a piercing pain down his left rump and leg as he landed on top of Sykes at the rear of the truck.
His mind raced as pain engulfed him. Where were the rest of his men, were he and Sykes the closest to the explosion or had the explosion impacted other members of the team as well? As his men came running, circling him and Sykes, Marcus quickly accounted for them all.
“Get the First Aid Kit from my truck.” Red was easing him off Sykes telling him to stay still.
“Someone, grab the extinguisher out of the truck and hit that fire,” he heard Ash call out, “and check the truck’s not damaged.”
Marcus noticed Ash pull out his cell and start dialing as he walked away to a less chaotic position on the sidewalk. He assumed all the emergency services, ambulance, fire, and police were on the top of Ash’s list. Ash was always calm under pressure, he’d sort this shit out while Marcus received first aid.
He tried to assess how bad of a hit he’d taken. The pain centered on his left butt cheek and upper thigh. He felt a burning sensation and attempted to reach his hand down to feel the wound.
“No, you don’t.” Red stopped the movement by taking hold of his hand. “You’ve got a bit of car sticking out of your hip area. I’m going to pack it to stem the bleeding, just leave it be. We’ve got an ambulance on the way.”
“Sykes?” Marcus looked across from where he lay on his side to see Sykes holding a shirt to the back of his head.
“I’m okay Boss, hit my head as you took me down, nothing serious. But I’ll be damned if I’m cleaning up that car now.”
His men chuckled at Sykes’ joke, but Marcus was in too much pain for frivolity. Ash came over and squatted next to him. The guy’s stare more intense than usual as sirens sounded, moving in on their locale at a rapid rate.
“How did you know?” Ash asked him the million-dollar question.
That bloody note where was it? Marcus vaguely remembered shoving the thing into his pocket as he dived toward Sykes. He tried to move to retrieve it but only increased the soaring pain in his hip and leg.
“Pocket,” he gritted out the word as his stomach attempted a recoil of everything he’d eaten in the last few hours.
“What part of the car do you think that is?” He heard Red ask as Ash fished around in first one, then the other pocket of his jacket.
“No fucking idea,” Ash replied, finally retrieving the note. The man’s next words said it all, “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch.”
Marcus scoffed. Yep exactly. The note read ‘Compliments of Mr. Oshimara.’ Ash’s stern expression as he stared at the red card indicated his concern. Presumably, Ash believed the same thing as Marcus. The target was Nik. He also assumed they didn’t know the big guy ended up in hospital after Nigel’s arrest. But just in case.
“He’s after Nik. I want one of the guys protecting him at the hospital twenty-four-seven. Starting right now,” Marcus forced the words out with gasping breaths. “And find whoever planted the bomb, they’ll lead us to the prick. I want payback and not the legal kind.”
“On it,” Ash replied. “Syn, head on over to the hospital, we need eyes on Nik, we believe this was an attempted hit on his life. I’ll be over to fill both of you in on the details later. And make sure he has a weapon.”
Within seconds, Marcus heard a vehicle roar away. He tried to regulate his breathing as emergency vehicles arrived. He didn’t need this shit. He assumed the Tokyo fucking authorities would have apprehended Oshimara by now. They hadn’t caught him in the initial sweep, but how hard was one guy to find? How the hell did Oshimara find Nik and orchestrate a hit on him here in Australia? Marcus needed answers, but first, he needed this piece of fucking car out of his butt cheek.
He heard Red filling the paramedics in on his treatment, then he stepped back and let the professionals do their thing. First, the stupid but necessary questions—his name, where he was, rate the pain. The answer to the last question combined with the vitals—blood pressure and other shit—they’d taken got him a shot of some description that sledgehammered the pain almost instantaneously.
His thoughts turned to Beth, sitting back at his house, horny and waiting for him. He needed to see her, wanted her by his side. Just when he believed it would be clear sailing for the two of t
hem from now on, this happens. For all his worry about losing Beth in the field and asking her to take a step back on missions, Marcus was the one the medics now hoisted onto a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance. He closed his eyes and sighed.
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Some greater force had just given him a literal kick in the butt.
* * * *
Beth sat next to Marcus as he lay asleep in his hospital bed. Her emotions roiled within her. She didn’t know whether to be angry, upset, or relieved, each taking a front seat depending on the prominent thought running through her mind.
Ruminating on the fact he could have died upset her, but the thought didn’t serve any purpose. He didn’t die, she could still touch and feel him, he’d recover, and they would move forward. Being upset didn’t make sense anymore. It served its purpose when she’d first heard the news, now it was redundant.
Let it go, Beth.
Likewise allowing anger to engulf her wasn’t worth the energy. Marcus would always do what he wanted, particularly in relation to the danger involved in his work life. The idiot didn’t accept his own vulnerability. Or the effect the life he led had on the rest of them. She’d seen the stress etched on the face of each team member as they waited for Marcus to emerge from surgery. It was the same anxiety they’d all felt as they waited for Nik, no more, no less. He’d wanted to protect her, asked her to step back from danger now they were together, but look at him. He’d escaped death this time but what about the next?
He’d survived the blast. The damage not too serious although the surgeon said he may require physical therapy to rehabilitate the damaged muscles and prevent a permanent limp—she expressed the relief sweeping over her with a sigh. Concentrating on the positive outcome should be her primary concern. The other internal ramblings didn’t warrant consideration.
Beth remembered her discussion with Zane. She’d come to the decision she loved Marcus for who he was. If that was true, then she loved him despite the hazardous position he placed himself in with virtually every mission. Yes, he took precautions, planned everything to the nth degree, but what he couldn’t account for was the unexpected. A fact she often reminded him of. Would finding himself laid up in a hospital bed reinforce the truth of her words? She hoped so.
“How long have I been out?” Marcus asked, his voice taking on the hoarse, raspy tone of someone emerging from a deep sleep.
“A few hours, you stirred after surgery, but once you saw me, you settled again and went back to sleep.” Beth leaned in closer, taking hold of his hand and raising it to her lips. “Are you thirsty or hungry? The nurse left some sandwiches at teatime and there’s a jug of water. I also got Billy to bring in a flask of coffee in case you wanted some. We both know hospital coffee sucks,” she grinned at him and he chuckled, nodding his agreement as he did. Beth stood to reach for the button to alert the nursing staff that Marcus was awake as instructed. He wouldn’t like it, but they needed to check on his status. She leaned in and kissed him, his hand twining through her long hair as she pulled away and sat back down.
“I’m glad you’re here, baby girl,” he smiled at her lovingly, filling Beth with such warmth her eyes misted. She had him back, he was going to be fine.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, daddy.”
Two nurses hustled into the room, one quickly going to check on his IV drip, the other fastening a BP monitor to his arm and firing questions at him as she did. Beth could see the irritation fill his face. Marcus hated fuss, but in this case, he’d just have to suck it up and deal. Which ultimately, he did.
“I want to sit up,” he said to the nurse playing with the IV.
“No can do, Mr. Delany. The doctors ordered you to lay at no greater than a twenty-five-degree angle for at least twelve hours. You’ve got eight hours left to go. Besides, it’s one a.m., so you need to go back to sleep.”
“I have sandwiches to eat, how do I do that laying down?” he sounded gruff, but then, so did the nurse.
“You’ll manage. And before you ask, you drink through an angled straw if you’re thirsty. Your wife knows where it is, I’m sure she can help you.” Beth tried not to laugh as Marcus narrowed his gaze on the nurse when she used the ‘W’ word. The nurse raised the head of his bed slightly and placed the IV control into Marcus’ hand. “Hit the button if the pain increases, it will also help you sleep.”
They hurried away as quickly as they’d arrived. Leaving Marcus looking at her with a questioning glare.
“At least she didn’t call me your daughter,” Beth joked.
“Hmm,” Marcus sounded. “Did you say you brought coffee?”
Beth moved the hospital trolley into position over the bed and set him up with the sandwiches, home-brewed coffee, and a few slices of his favorite choc walnut brownie, courtesy of Billy. She poured herself a coffee as well, minus the straw. Marcus tossed the straw onto the table and reached for the bed control the nurse mistakenly left within reach. Clearly, the nurse hadn’t anticipated Marcus having a mind of his own, one determined to ignore both hers and the doctors’ orders. He raised the angle of the bedhead deciding what was the most comfortable position for himself. He wasn’t completely upright, but he was now able to drink his coffee without a straw. She looked at him, shaking her head and grinning.
Stubborn bloody man.
“What?” he stated as if he didn’t know what Beth was thinking from the expression on her face. “I need to talk to you, and I don’t want to do it looking at a ceiling. I have… personal things to say.”
That got Beth’s attention. She thought he’d been more interested in straw free coffee than getting personal.
Marcus pushed the tray back slightly and repositioned himself, angling toward her, wincing as he did, uninjured hip supporting his weight.
“If you’re in pain, you need to press the button, Marcus,” she stated in a firm tone.
“Fuck the button, Bethany. I don’t want you to think what I’m about to say is the drugs talking.”
Beth glanced down at the elongated, short, slim button resting at his side.
“It’s way too small for my liking,” she replied with a grin.
“Ha. Cheeky Brat,” Marcus smiled back at her, the expression on his face showing the affection he felt for her, his gaze settling firmly on hers.
He cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. Whatever he was about to disclose was going to be a doozy, and Beth suddenly realized she was holding her breath.
“You asked me a few days ago what I was going to give up to be with you. I’m now ready to answer that question.” Marcus watched her earnestly, probably trying to gauge her response as he spoke. Beth tried not to appear nervous even when her heartbeat raced at his statement.
“I admit, I’ve underestimated the effect losing Suzanna had on me, and that has affected us. It’s the reason I asked you to step back from active duty on missions. I’ve engaged in a couple of discussions about that recently, one with Adrian, the other with Kat, and I’ve come to a decision.”
Beth sat staring into his eyes, she nodded, uttering a soft ‘okay’ in response. She hadn’t expected he’d discuss his situation with anyone, but it pleased her he did. Her shock must have shown because he reached forward to hold her hand.
“It’s all good, baby, don’t look so scared.”
Beth adjusted herself in the chair, dragging it closer to the bed. Maybe scared described her demeanor perfectly because she had no idea what he was about to say.
“I realize now, I’ve closed off my emotions to such an extent, I find it difficult to be anything other than who I am. After Suzanna died and over the years, I decided it was safer for everyone if I remained single and alone. You’ve changed that for me, Beth. I now find myself reevaluating everything I previously believed to be true.” Marcus breathed deeply, raising her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
Beth followed his lead, regulating her breathing, attempting to
bring about a sense of calm. If Marcus was talking emotion, then it wouldn’t be easy for him, Beth was aware of that. She’d sit attentively and let him take his time, it was the only way she could support him as he opened himself up to her.
“I’ve been wrong, Beth. For the last fifteen years, I’ve believed I could have stopped what happened to Suzanna, that it was my fault she died. To a certain extent, I still believe that, but it shouldn’t stop me from having love in my life. You asked me what I’d give up for you and the answer is, I’ll give up everything for you, Beth. Everything I’ve believed about me and my life. The belief I can control the world, keep everyone safe. Thinking that I’m a danger to everyone I dare to love. I’ve been wrong all this time, and I’m grateful you’ve been patient, that you’ve waited for me to realize what an idiot I’ve been.
“You’ve been by my side for the last four years, and I’ve loved you for all that time. Nothing bad has happened to you, and whether that’s been luck or fate or just the way life dictates it should be… I don’t know. What I do know is… my love hasn’t harmed you, so why should that change just because I’ve decided to let you know and to have you in my life the way I’ve always wanted to. As my partner in this crazy ass business, the lover in my bed, as the woman who makes me feel more alive than I have in years. I love you, Bethany Reid. You’re my baby girl, my lover, my friend, my everything, and I want to be the same for you.”
Beth didn’t know when the tears started to fall from her eyes, but they had. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest but not loud enough to drown out his words. She never thought she’d hear anything like it leave his lips
