Dangerous Protector (Aegis Group Book 5)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Probably. But at least I’m honest.”

  “Got it. Loud and clear.” She wrapped her arms around herself. How could this be the same man who’d…

  Her body went hot just thinking about last night.

  But that was it. Last night he’d expected to fuck her silly and leave. Not stay.

  Marco was a good guy, but not the kind of good guy she needed in her life. At least not for more than a few days. She’d give him those, but not her heart. Because he was right, he wasn’t the kind of guy for her, even though part of her wanted to be rescued from all the shit by a bad biker boy with long hair and a steely gaze. Life had taught her no one did the rescuing, no one but herself.

  7.

  Marco steered the old pick-up truck out of Denver and headed west toward the Utah border.

  He’d really fucked it up this time. One way or another, he was going to pay for this. Helping Fiona appeased his conscience. A little. If Ghost could figure out who’d hired Scott and why, and removed all traces of the spyware, they could feasibly steal what Scott had already stolen, and Fiona would never be the wiser.

  Except he had to lie to her face. Keep her mind off what was going on. And that was the hard part. He could do it. But he didn’t like to. He’d wound up on more covert gigs than he wanted to in the SEALs. He’d faced down some bad motherfuckers in those days. Fiona was an innocent and that changed the game.

  This was a shitstorm.

  He should turn the truck around now, come clean, bring in the cops, and let the chips fall where they may.

  This sort of crap was why he’d gotten out and gone to work for Aegis. People hired their team for a job, they did a job. It wasn’t often that things got hairy or deviated from a plan. And he liked that. He was good at it. And if he got caught because of the spyware, if the cops decided to charge him with any number of crimes, he’d get fired, and his parents wouldn’t get their cut of his check and…

  Fuck.

  He was stuck.

  His parents relied on him and the money he sent them every month. His baby sisters needed more help with the kids every passing month, thanks to deadbeat dads. If he didn’t see this through, it wasn’t just Marco who’d pay the price. It was his whole family. They’d already lost so much. He had to do whatever it took to make this work out well for everyone.

  “You always grind your teeth like that?” Fiona asked.

  “Hm?” He glanced at her in the passenger seat.

  “You’re grinding your teeth. Thinking about Danny?”

  “Yeah.” Shit. He did not want to go there, either.

  “It’s great you care for him like this, but you know you can’t save him if he doesn’t want to be saved?”

  “I am well aware of the fact. We tried too hard to save his brother. Danny’s got to hit rock bottom on his own.”

  “And it’s going to be tough. On you. Your family. His family. I take it your families are close?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll shut up.”

  “No.” Damn it. He had to at least pretend to be friendly, or she’d catch a ride back to Denver before all of this was sorted. He had to manage the situation, and her, just right or it was going to blow up in his face. Ghost would vanish, and the whole mess would be on his shoulders. He had to make nice. “Your…dad? Right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You and your mom, you guys okay…after?”

  “Not really. Mom…she tried to move on. She really did. But she was never the same after. I think she blamed herself for not loving him enough or not helping or…I don’t know. She said so many things over the years I just don’t think she ever really stopped blaming herself.”

  “How’s she doing now?”

  “She’s dead.” Fiona glanced down at her hands. “Irony of ironies, she was carjacked by some guy high on a meth-PCP combination. He drove them into a concrete pillar, one of those underpass supports, you know?”

  “Christ, I…” Marco’s mouth worked. He knew death. He’d held the hands of men while they breathed their last on the battle field, in field hospitals, their blood slipping between his fingers. A joy ride like that would be…hell. The adrenaline. Seeing the end coming. It would have been painful, too.

  “She died on impact. Or at least that’s what they told me. I was seventeen, so who knows? They might have lied to me. If that hadn’t have happened, I’m not sure what she’d be like today. Probably not the same woman dad married. His actions changed everyone around him.”

  “Yeah, I know what that‘s like.”

  “I bet that’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through though. All I mean is…this? With your cousin? I get it. And it sucks any way it goes down.” She sighed and leaned against the door.

  “You can say that again.” Marco blew out a breath.

  Damn. How the hell she’d come out of that mess and not been screwed up was beyond Marco. She was…amazing. The drive to move on, to pick herself up? She was stronger than a lot of people he knew. He would have never guessed her history based on what he’d seen of her. And it sure as hell wasn’t in the background he’d dug up on her. Nothing about her mother or any of it. But now he had a timeline. At seventeen, everything had changed. What else happened to her? Who was Fiona really?

  “Why the SEALs? If you don’t mind me asking.” Fiona shifted, turning toward him.

  He checked the odometer and did some quick math. It was an easy three hundred and sixty miles from her place to his place. At least six hours, thanks to the summer construction in the mountains. And they hadn’t even been in the truck for an hour.

  It was going to be a very long trip.

  And the truck had no working radio.

  “Someone had to do something. I figured that someone could be me.” He shrugged. His cousin and his career history, two topics he’d rather not discuss, and here they were.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I was a kid, doing nothing but having fun on the river. Then 9-11 happened and…it all changed. I figured, if we couldn’t save Daniel, I could save someone else. So I did.” And he’d gone, because someone had to do the right thing, and he had to get out of Moab.

  “Wow. I’m in awe of people like you. I couldn’t do that.”

  “You were—what? Twelve? Thirteen?”

  “Something like that. Eleven or twelve. My birthday’s in November.”

  “Exactly. You were a baby. You probably did the smartest thing you could. We had great intentions in the beginning but…” Marco shook his head. “Sometimes it feels like we lost sight of the real goal. I’m the last guy who should be in charge, but there were times I wasn’t sure what it was we were doing.” And then there was Ghost… Marco was pretty positive one or two of those missions with the shadow soldier had nothing to do with saving lives or making the world a safer place.

  “Doesn’t everything come back to money?”

  “A lot of times, yeah.” Hell, even with her it was money. NueEnergy wanted to bypass costly waste disposal requirements by pumping the gunk into the rock. Who knew how much money they were saving while making their waste someone else’s problem?

  “Money, the root of all evil.” She stared out the window at the mountains. “What’s Moab like? I’ve never been there before.”

  “It was mostly a mining town until the seventies. Then some smart people decided that, hey, we have a great stretch of river, lots of really cool rocks, let’s make something of it. And now life revolves around tourists, the salt mine, and a little farming here and there.” He glanced at her, and wished it was the spring. They could take an ATV up to one of the natural hot tubs, strip down on the warm rock and…yeah, he needed to stop thinking that way before he got a boner.

  “You must hate that.”

  “No, not at all. When I was an eighteen-year-old bum, tourists enabled me to be on the water seven days a week if I wanted to. I was, and am, grateful for tourism, the life it provides my family. Without it, I don’t know wh
ere we’d be. But there is a price to pay.” He shifted in his seat and focused on the road ahead of them.

  “Like what?”

  “We’re starting to see a lot of property bought up by vacationers. Drives the price of homes up, out of a lot of people’s budgets. I guess the rest of the country would probably say the average Moab resident is on the poor side of the economic line, but we’re rich in history, community and culture. My family, for example? We’ve had land there that goes back generations to when my great-great—I don’t know how many greats—grandparents left a Navajo reservation to do something different.”

  “Are there a lot of Navajo people there?”

  “Not really. My grandparents are gone, so it’s my parents, my uncle and his wife, then some of our grandparents’ brothers, sisters and their kids.”

  “Wow, that sounds like a lot of people.”

  “It probably is, but this has been our home and a lot of the family stays around.”

  “But not you?”

  “I have a place there I keep up, but my work isn’t there anymore.”

  “Ever think you’ll go back?”

  “No doubt in my mind.”

  Moab was his home. The place where everything was right in the world. Except NueEnergy was destroying that, and Marco was ready to fight like hell to keep his home just the way nature had created it. Even if it meant using Fiona. He’d get over feeling like a rotten bastard. Eventually.

  Fiona slid out from the truck and stretched. She wouldn’t think of grumbling about the ride, but damn. There had to be some shocks or something that could make the truck a smoother ride.

  They’d passed through town, turned off the main highway and kept going a little ways into what felt like nowhere. He hadn’t offered an explanation, but most of the mailboxes along this dirt road had the same surname written on them.

  Marco’s house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, pushed off a little ways from the road. It was an honest-to-God log cabin, with a wide deck and a second-story balcony. Actually, the deck and balcony might be bigger than the whole dang house.

  He paused at the front of the truck, staring off to his right.

  “Something wrong?” she grabbed her stuff from the back of the truck and joined him. She stared at the house next door, a good thirty or forty yards away. Shrubs and desert trees created a bit of privacy, but she could still see the lights on as the sun set, throwing vibrant colors against the red rock and sand.

  “Nothing.” Marco planted his hand on the small of her back, took her bag and ushered her up the steps to his front door.

  He didn’t unlock it, just twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.

  “No locks?”

  “No point.”

  “Because no one comes out this way?”

  “People do from time to time, but they’re usually lost. If I lock the doors, the family will just unlock it and forget to lock it. So I don’t bother. Besides, anything worth stealing isn’t small.” He flipped the lights on. “There’s a bedroom and bathroom down here. Master’s upstairs. I’ll see what we have to eat.”

  Where did she put her stuff? In some way, this was going to determine the rest of the weekend. If she stashed her stuff in his room, the master, would that be too presumptuous? Was she ready for several nights in a row like last night? And if she stayed in the guest room, did that…she didn’t know what that meant, except she wasn’t ready for this at all.

  Fiona hadn’t thought much beyond her circumstances, the breech at work and Scott’s betrayal. Now…she was in no way prepared to make this choice.

  “Marco? Marco are you home?” The sudden, very loud voice, had Fiona flinching and looking around for someone else.

  “Shit. Yeah, ma?” Marco grimaced and crossed to a sort of speaker unit near the front door.

  “Oh, good! Dinner’s just about ready. I’ll set a place for you.”

  “No, don’t do that. I’ve got a—friend—over.”

  “I’ll set two places then.”

  “Ma? Ma?” He let go of the button. “God damn it.”

  “What?” Was it because of her? Did he not want his family to know she was there?

  “It’s family dinner,” he grumbled.

  “I can stay here.”

  “What? Why?” He frowned.

  “So…I don’t know…they don’t think…things?”

  “Sweetheart, they’re my family, not stupid.” He chuckled, but it trailed off fast. “No, I was hoping to have the talk about Danny tomorrow or Sunday or never.”

  “Oh.”

  “I didn’t… They probably saw the truck and think he’s home.”

  “Oh…” Her stomach dropped.

  They were driving Danny’s truck. Of course his family would assume that meant the lost sheep had come home again.

  “Oh, well. You want to change or…anything?”

  “Is jeans okay for dinner? I don’t think I brought much in the way of nice clothes.” She’d opted for jeans, ballet flats and a tank top. It wasn’t fancy, but for once it was nice to relax. Be herself. Not the buttoned-up, boring woman she pretended to be.

  Marco paused, his gaze roving down her body then back up.

  He’d looked at her like that last night, right before he pounced on her.

  “Jeans are fine,” he said, and his eyes were hooded, sensual.

  She swallowed.

  “Okay, then I’m ready to go.”

  Marco left the lights on and guided her back outside.

  “Careful, stay on the path.” He took her hand, guiding her to what passed for a path between the coarse ground cover.

  She clutched his hand and walked so close she nearly tripped over his heel.

  “Is something out there?” Fiona had been born and raised in cities. This was, to date, the closest she’d ever been to wildlife.

  “No.” Marco chuckled and tugged her closer, until she had one hand in his and the other against his back.

  He picked his way along a path she couldn’t see until it opened up into a small, cultivated garden and beyond that stood another house. The windows were open and she could hear voices. A lot of them. This was supposed to be a coming-home party, and instead all they were getting was her.

  “Are you sure me coming is a good idea? They’re expecting Danny…”

  “We all know Danny is…Danny. No sense in making you pay for him being a dumb fuck.”

  “I just…don’t want to make things awkward.”

  “You won’t. Come on.” He led her up the porch and opened the door, and a chorus of voices greeted them.

  Fiona stepped inside the door and hovered there for a moment before a big, beefy man swept her into a hug.

  “Dad, Dad, Dad!” Marco pried the man’s arms from around her. “Don’t scare her. Shit.”

  Marco’s father engulfed him in a hug as well. Fiona covered her mouth, chuckling as she glanced between the two. Talk about night and day.

  “Come in, have a seat. Is Danny with you?” An elegant woman took Fiona by the hand and led her away from the door.

  “Um.” Fiona glanced behind her at Marco with his father and two other men. They all had a beer in hand and the hugs were done. No one was smiling. “No, I’m afraid he’s not with us.”

  “Oh? Maybe he’ll be by later. Sue? Sue? Your son brought a friend home.”

  A woman turned from the stove, her bright, glittering eyes honing in on Fiona in a way that was unmistakably Marco.

  “Hi.” Fiona clasped her hands.

  “Hello, hello, my dear!” Sue crossed to Fiona, squeezing her in a fashion after her husband.

  How had two gregarious, happy people produced Marco? The king of all things stern?

  “I didn’t catch your name,” the first woman said.

  “Oh, I’m Fiona.” She offered her hand first to one woman, then the other.

  “I’m Jennifer, Marco’s aunt,” the elegant woman said.

  “I’m Marco’s mother.” Sue didn’t offer a name
, but she didn’t have to. Fiona could imagine her insisting everyone just call her Ma. “Over there’s my daughters, Michelle and Mindy. Those are their babies. And, let’s see, my other boys are around here somewhere. I’m sure you’ll meet everyone before too much longer. I have to stir the beans before they boil over.”

  The next fifteen minutes were a whirlwind of meeting Marco’s sisters, their adorable babies, and the rest of his family. After five or six relatives, she stopped trying to remember them all and instead focused on figuring out which people belonged to what family branch. She didn’t even see Marco until the plates were handed around and he magically appeared at her side, helping himself to the plate in her hand. She frowned and took the next one for herself.

  “You could have warned me your family is huge.” She shot him a dirty glance, but she didn’t really mean it. She’d never had or known of more than a few family members beyond her mother and father. This was…an experience in being overwhelmed.

  “This isn’t everyone. This is just Saturday dinner.” He shrugged.

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “Yup.”

  Fiona glanced around. There were at least twenty people, and that wasn’t including the smallest children. And they were missing people? Danny, obviously, but there were more on top of him that weren’t there?

  “How many of you are there?” She spooned food onto her plate, not always sure what she was getting.

  “Oh, during the spring and summer when the whole family is here, maybe fifty people?”

  “Fifty? Where are they now?”

  “Some work weekends. Others spend the fall and winter in other places. Most come back for the tourist season.”

  “What are they doing now?” The trees would begin turning colors soon, and in another week or two the tank tops would go to the back of her closet until next year.

  “Most head down to New Mexico and work at ski resorts. Trade one tourist spot for another.”

  “Oh.”

  “There’s an open bench at the table. Get it before anyone else does. I’ll get drinks.” Marco shoved his plate into her free hand and bumped her hip with his.

  She edged forward, sliding onto a bench seat at the main dining table with Marco’s parents, aunts, uncles, and siblings. A few cast smiles her way, but most ate, hunched over their plates as if they were afraid someone might steal their food.