Vivian Arend - High Risk

“I meant regarding the new developments,” Ted interrupted. “Will you be going back to Yellowstone for the funeral now that they found your partner’s body?”

It wasn’t a gasp that escaped Becki, more like a total and complete cessation of breathing altogether. Marcus caught his arm around her as she wavered. Questions and confusion rose on the air as the news spread rapidly, as those who hadn’t been aware of Becki’s presence caught hold of the word and turned to see what was going on.

“Ted, not here—” Marcus’s attempt to slow down the train was destroyed by the very insistent man.

“I have the news report from the team that found him earlier today. Seems there’re some irregularities. Have you been contacted yet by the state police to find out if you can help answer their questions?”

“What irregularities? Where did you get this information?” Becki had Marcus’s hand in a tight grip, but she was moving now, stepping across the room to Ted’s side. Another flash went off, and Becki glared at the cameraman. “Call off your hound and let’s go somewhere private to finish this.”

Marcus tugged her back. “Don’t talk to him. We can go. We can make the calls ourselves to find out what the ass is up to.”

She pressed her lips close to his ear and whispered rapidly, “But if we get him out of the room, he can’t continue to mess up David’s event.”

He didn’t give a damn about the fund-raiser right then. All his energies were aimed in one direction—getting Ted away from Becki as soon as possible. “Let’s take this outside, Ted.”

Ted lifted his hands in protest, then pointed toward where the Lifeline crew had all risen to their feet, standing at attention. “Just wanted to get a reaction from the team as well. Since Becki’s been training them.” Ted checked a paper he pulled from his pocket. “How do you feel learning that Dane’s safety line appears to have been cut?”

She’d gone numb. There was a faint ringing in her ears but beyond that, nothing.

Becki leaned her forehead against the window of Marcus’s truck and stared at the lights flashing by, the water on the streets reflecting the streetlamps and creating a far too beautiful setting compared to the pain rippling inside.

Dane.

A soft touch landed on her shoulder as they paused at an intersection. Marcus squeezed her briefly before taking the wheel again. “We’ll make some calls. Find out what happened.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“I should have shoved that damn reporter’s notebook up his ass the first time I met him,” Marcus growled lightly as the truck moved forward. The slick of water being spun from under the tires and the windshield wipers stroking back and forth merged into a rhythm and gave her something to cling to.

She wanted to smile, to tease back that she figured Ted was plenty afraid of Marcus now, after he’d hauled the man from the room and given him hell.

She couldn’t. All that consumed her were images that stacked and fell apart, never creating the correct picture, teasing her with their incomplete story.

They’d found Dane’s body. That alone would have been enough to give her pause. She might have shuddered briefly to a stop but made herself keep moving because that was what you did. People died on the mountain, and you kept on. She’d mourned Dane, stopped asking why, and over the past couple of months slowly accepted that she might never know the truth.

Hearing how they’d found him had been blunt and definitely announced to be hurtful.

Dane’s safety line had been cut.

And now, the questions were all out there again. What had happened? Why couldn’t she remember?

Oh God, had she done the unthinkable?

They stopped and she sat there, unable to move. All the while as Marcus guided her into the house and slipped her into a chair by the fire, she was only borderline aware of what was happening. She closed her eyes to shut out the pain, but it refused to leave her alone, haunting her.

“Becki.” Marcus’s voice cut through, but she didn’t want to answer. What would he do? What would he think? Opening her eyes, would she discover that he had a look of sympathy on his face, or distrust, or . . . ?

She wasn’t sure what emotion she expected from him, or which would be the worst.

Dane’s rope had been cut. The one that had held the two of them together.

“Becki—you’re in shock. I’m going to get you warmed up, and then we’ll talk.”

He undressed her—when had they gone to his room?—and helped her into sweatpants and one of his oversized sweaters. Something sweet and warm passed her lips, and she swallowed instinctively.

Tea. Marcus’s magical blend.

Then she was nestled against a strong chest and being held. Protected. The phone rang and they ignored it, Marcus stroking her hair as she clung to him, holding on tight.

“Should we answer?” she asked, choking out the question through a tight throat.

“Tomorrow is soon enough. David and the team know how to reach me if there’s a real emergency. This call isn’t important.”

“I’m not going to fall apart. I’m not,” Becki insisted, knowing even as she said the words they would seem ridiculous.

“You’re going to be fine,” Marcus agreed. “But you don’t have to hide anything from me. Don’t have to be strong 24/7. I won’t judge.”

“God, I wish I could remember.”

“You will,” he reassured her. “When you’re ready. In the meantime, whatever you need, take.”

She didn’t know what she needed. To scream her frustrations at having huge, vital gaps in her past? To punch and hit Ted for deliberately choosing the worst possible time and place? Part of her was even tempted to curl into a ball and pretend none of it had happened. Not the news announcement that night, not the accident eight months ago. Never learned to climb, never left the farm . . .

A sense of the ridiculousness of that last thought struck her, and a snort of derision escaped. Okay, maybe not that far back.

A wave of mental exhaustion was settling in and turning everything darker than it should be. The one thing she was sure of in the middle of all the other doubts was that she trusted Marcus.

Maybe more than she should, but trusting him was the only thing left solid and firm.

“I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to think,” she admitted. “And having this reaction almost pisses me off more than not knowing what happened.”

Marcus shifted under her and cupped his strong fingers around her chin. “I get it. But right now? If you want to pop a couple of pills and sleep, no one will judge you for it. We’ll make calls tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

She searched his face, but there was nothing there accusing her or judging her. “I can’t go back to the dorms. . . .”

“I never expected you to. You’d already promised to spend the night with me.”

Their passionate interlude seemed a million miles away, hazy and more like a dream than reality. “Well, I thought I should double-check. The game changed tonight.”

Marcus shook his head. “A new hand got dealt, but we’re still in the same game. I want you here with me.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Becki grabbed her cup and sipped the tea, soaking in the warmth, her fingers icy cold on the ceramic. “Marcus? You have anything to help me sleep tonight? I hate taking shit, but . . .”

He rose and led her into the bathroom. “Again, there’s nothing you can ask for that will make me judge you as lacking.” He held out the box to her, retaining his grasp until she looked into his eyes. “I’ve been there. Needing to be cared for. Let me help you.”

The fact that his life hadn’t been picture-perfect, that he knew how the world could change in an instant, made him perfect for her right then and there. She took a pill and swallowed it with a bit of water, staring at the face of a stranger in the mirror.

Marcus took down her hair, trailed his fingers through the strands. Handed her a face cloth to wash away the fancy makeup she’d taken such pains to apply. All the while Becki floated in a haze. The sleeping pill slowly overpowered even the numbing confusion in her brain.

She tugged him after her as she crawled into his bed without caring how it might look, clinging to his hand and refusing to let him go.

Sleep would release him. Until then, she needed to know she wasn’t alone.

* * *

Marcus slipped away when her breathing finally relaxed, the fierce tightness in her body fading as the drug took effect and forced her to relax. He moved quickly, wanting to be back if she stirred. Needing to be there.

Damn Ted and all his kind. Marcus snatched up his phone and called his brother.

“You guys okay?” David asked. “Oh, first. Thank you for not killing the man in the middle of the room.”

“It was close,” Marcus admitted. “What’d you find out?”

“Ted contacted someone over in Yellowstone only days after I arranged to hire Becki. He’s been in constant communication—was probably digging for shit to try to make some kind of story when the report came in regarding the discovery of Dane’s body. There’s not even an official write-up yet, for God’s sake.”

“Damn leeches.”

“I know, it’s not news, but it is. The timing sucks, and by tomorrow I expect Yellowstone SAR will have someone making contact with Becki, but it’s a moot point. She’s already sat through one investigation. It’s been closed.”

“What are you saying?”

David sighed. “I looked into the legalities, Marcus. I had to when I asked her to come teach at the school. The criminal investigation was as thorough as it could be, and she was cleared of wrongdoing. Even if she did cut his rope, she won’t be charged.”

“I never thought she would be.”

“Just making sure so you can reassure Becki on that point. Criminal intent is required, or criminal negligence. Neither applies in this case.”

Marcus dragged his hand through his hair. “You’re sounding awfully legal-minded there, bro. But thank you, that’s good to know. Did Ted’s showboating screw up the rest of the event?”

Unexpected laughter rippled from the phone. “Are you kidding? Total solidarity from your team, and I’m buying Alisha the biggest damn bouquet of flowers I can get her. She’s a miracle worker on the podium. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alisha?” Marcus locked the house and closed all the curtains, speaking softly as he passed the master bedroom. “What did she do?”

“Off the cuff, adjusted her entire presentation and charmed the money from their wallets. Took the idea of team and trust, and how her time at Banff SAR taught her how being part of something that was bigger than yourself meant knowing what to do in life-and-death situations. That saving lives wasn’t an emotional response, but a trained instinct. I should have taken notes on her, but I was too mesmerized by the reaction of the audience. When that girl leaves Lifeline down the road, she’s got a bright future in politics.”

“I’ll make sure she knows you were impressed.” He had stopped in the doorway and stared at Becki’s still form for a moment as David had spoken. The next days were going to be tough, no matter what truths came out. “Thanks for looking into things for me.”

“No problem. And Marcus? Hell of a thing to happen your first foray back into high society, but I have to say it. I was impressed to see you there.”

“Shut up.”

David paused. “Shutting. Except—damn it all, you can shout at me later for being an interfering asshole, but I have to say it. You two are good together. You and Becki.”

Well. That was weird. “Any particular reason you’re sharing this right now?”

“Because it’s important. You’ve changed, even in the past couple of weeks, and the only difference in your life is Becki. So I’m calling it as I see it. Whether it’s her dragging you back or I don’t know the hell what else, I’m glad you two hooked up.”

The urge to snap out some sarcastic response was strangely lacking, mainly because he agreed one hundred percent with David’s assessment. “Thanks for that.”

“Call me if you need anything else.”

Marcus tossed his phone onto the table beside the couch. He debated briefly hitting the liquor cabinet for something to take the edge off his nerves but decided what he really needed was a long warm shot of something else.

He stripped and joined Becki in the bed, wrapping himself like a barrier between her and the world. She shivered, her arm that had escaped the covers cold against his. He threaded their fingers together and lay there waiting for his brain to slow.