I could feel the tension in his body, and his willingness to sprint back out the door to track down Greg. “Marcus, no. You can’t confront him right now.”
“Oh, yes, I damn well can, and I will. Only a damn coward wales on a woman half his size,” he ranted. “And who gives a fuck if he got mad? That’s no excuse. There’s never an excuse for touching a woman with the intent of hurting her in any goddamn way. I get mad. My brothers get mad. Your brothers get mad. My friends get mad. What they don’t do is punch a woman in the face.”
“He didn’t punch me. He backhanded me.”
“Just the fact that he touched you at all is a good reason for me to hunt him down. He can’t hurt you like this, Dani. Christ! Does he know what you’ve been through? Does he even care?”
“No,” I said softly. “No to everything. He doesn’t really know me at all.”
A sob escaped my mouth. Then another. And then one more. Tears started to flow free in a river down my face. “Don’t leave me right now. Don’t go to find him,” I pleaded.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” he grumbled.
He was hesitating, his hand running up and down my back in comforting strokes.
“Because I need you more,” I said in a helpless tone, flinging my arms around his neck, knowing I had to let go and share my secrets.
Dani
Mindlessly sobbing my heart out wasn’t something I was used to doing, but it seemed so easy to just let it happen when Marcus was holding me against him, his solid body making me feel safe.
He lifted my body easily and then sat down on the couch, holding me on his lap while I released all of my sorrow, frustration, and fear.
He didn’t ask any questions.
He didn’t try to make me stop crying.
All he did was hold me, comfort me, giving me something I’d never had before.
“I hate crying,” I finally admitted with a hiccup.
His mouth by my ear, he said in a teasing voice, “For something you hate, you seem to be doing a lot of it.”
I smiled just a little, thinking that it was a typical Marcus kind of comment. But there was a thread of kindness running through the teasing tone, and that made me feel protected.
Honestly, Marcus made me feel safe to be myself, and I really needed to feel that way right now. “I think I’m done now.”
“By all means, feel free to continue,” he answered drily. “Having your shapely ass draped over my dick doesn’t bother me at all.”
“You’re completely perverted,” I accused as I gingerly swiped at my eyes.
“No, Dani. I’m worried about you.”
Those four simple words made my heart ache. I was used to traveling around, taking care of myself. I was alone. Always alone. I’d had a relationship in college, and I’d tried to have some kind of connection with a male correspondent, but it hadn’t ended well. Both of us traveled so much that we rarely got to meet up, and it had felt more like a friends-with-benefits type of thing. We finally broke it off, and I’d never even tried again. What was the point? I was always in motion, and no relationship had a chance when I traveled that much.
Most of the time, I didn’t mind relying on myself. I was used to going solo. But since Harper had found Blake, and after being held captive by a ruthless group of rebels, I recognized the emptiness in my soul. Problem was, I couldn’t just fill it by being with somebody. Many times, I’d be in a crowded room, but I still felt like I was alone. I’d never realized how much I craved that one person who would make me feel like I wasn’t lonely. Life experiences had changed me, and I couldn’t seem to completely fall back to the way I’d been before my kidnapping.
I guess my priorities had changed along with my personality.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” I argued.
I knew I could move now that I’d stopped crying, but the scent and feel of Marcus just felt so good that I didn’t even try.
His arms tightened around me. “For fuck’s sake, Dani, you’re dating a sociopath who just backhanded you until your face was black and blue.” He stroked a hand through my hair before adding, “Which reminds me, we need to treat that cheek.”
“I have ice,” I informed him, reaching over to the side table for the cold pack.
“Let me have it,” he rumbled, gently resting the pack on my face before he slowly slid me onto the couch so he could get up.
“Where are you going?” I hated that my voice sounded slightly panicked.
“You need to take something for pain and inflammation. Do you have that here?”
I had moved my hand to keep the cold pack on my face, and as I moved to get up, he protested. “Stay there,” he demanded. “I’ll find it.”
I tried not to notice that Marcus’s gruff protectiveness was one of the best things I’d experienced since my kidnapping. Maybe I shouldn’t find it as sweet as I did. It wasn’t like he was pouring on the charm because he really wasn’t all that charming. Or maybe he wasn’t to most people. But I found him nearly irresistible. Meaningless words and actions weren’t Marcus’s style, which made his protective instincts heartbreakingly adorable.
I directed him to the kitchen cupboard. I wasn’t able to see his face once he opened the door, but I could hear him rifling through the items impatiently until he found what he wanted.
He brought some ibuprofen and a glass of ice water.
“Nobody has taken care of me for a long time,” I mentioned as I accepted the items from him, dutifully swallowing the pills.
“I’m starting to think you need a damn bodyguard,” he said in a disgruntled tone as he sat back down on the sofa next to me, and took over holding the cold pack to my face and gathered me into his arms.
I sighed as I curled my feet beneath me and leaned against him. “Are you applying for the job?”
“Hell, no. I’d probably kill any guy who got within ten feet of you. I can’t watch this, Danica. I can’t see somebody hurt you again,” he answered in a husky, annoyed tone. “It nearly killed me to see what the rebels had done to you, and I can’t get the images of them abusing you out of my damn head. I know you made a mistake by crossing the border, but you did it to save some stupid teenagers. I get that. But why in the hell would you let Becker do this to you? Why?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before I answered. “It took me some time to get my head straight after we came back to the US. I had intensive therapy, but I was suffering from PTSD and anxiety. It was so bad I was afraid of almost everything and everyone at first.”
“Understandable,” Marcus remarked. “Anybody would have felt the same way.”
“But I hated it. I’ve never been afraid of anything. I traveled the world alone.”
“You’re definitely fearless,” he agreed.
“No, I was fearless, Marcus,” I said. “Now I have to push through the fear I never felt before. I’ve come a long way in counseling, and after I’d become a little more stable, I remembered something I’d heard while I was in captivity. I remembered after I’d gotten over the initial trauma.”
“What?”
“I told you that I speak and understand Arabic, right?”