Her Forbidden Hero

by Laura Kaye

  He’d forgotten she didn’t have her car at his house, so he had no idea where she might’ve gone or with whom. Her car was still parked at Whiskey’s, so he couldn’t drive around looking for it, and of course she wasn’t answering her phone.

  Unlike their argument from last week, this time Marco hadn’t intended to hurt her. But the more he went over the words he’d exchanged with Brady, and then when he recalled the expressions on her face when he’d told Brady it wasn’t what he thought and when she’d turned to Marco to explain what was going on, the more he knew he had. And probably worse than last week.

  For God’s sake, they’d made love. Twice. And he could see every bit of her emotions when he’d looked into her eyes.

  She’d loved him.

  He knew how he felt, now more than ever.

  Question was, after everything—after repeatedly fucking up, and then failing to man up in front of Brady—could she forgive him? And did she love him still?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alyssa waved to Eric as he drove away. He’d turned into a great friend, picking her up on Marco’s street yesterday morning and dropping her at her hotel, and then picking her up again this morning and bringing her to work several hours before their shifts started. She was going to miss him.

  She stood in the parking lot behind Whiskey’s and stared across at her car, the scene from Saturday night replaying in her head even though it was broad daylight. She turned and went indoors, about to act on a decision that would change everything.

  Last night, as she’d lain in her hotel room mourning what might have been with Marco, the Washington Convention Center had called and offered her the event coordinator job. Starting in one week.

  There was only one thing to do.

  She went looking for Pete and finally found him in his office. Nerves fluttering in her chest, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

  “Alyssa. Come on in, kid.” He rose from his seat and gestured to the facing chair. “Please sit down. How are you doing?”

  Alyssa managed a smile and sat. “I’m okay. But I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Of course.” He returned to his chair. “First just let me say how sorry I am about the other night.”

  She waved her hand. “It wasn’t your fault. But thank you.”

  He nodded. “What can I do for you?”

  She placed on his desk the letter she’d written at the hotel’s business center. “I’ve received another job offer and unfortunately it starts next Monday. I’ll be moving to DC on Thursday. I’m very sorry to inconvenience you, and I’ll work up to the last moment…”

  He frowned, concern edging lines into his forehead. “Is this because of what happened?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Because I would understand if you don’t feel safe here.”

  Alyssa bit her tongue to chase away the threatening tears. Why did she have to like everyone here so much? Funny, after being away at school for four years, she’d only been back to Frederick for three weeks and it already felt like home again.

  Too bad she couldn’t stay.

  “I had applied for this other job months ago and only recently learned I was in the running. I never would’ve taken the job at Whiskey’s if I thought another was just around the corner.”

  “I take it this other position pays more?”

  Alyssa nodded, unease sinking in her stomach—the pay truly wasn’t the reason behind her decision, odd as that was for her. She simply couldn’t stay here and face Marco day in and day out, knowing he didn’t want her. Not the way she wanted him. Distance would make things easier, would remove the temptation. At least that’s what she was counting on.

  “I’ll offer you more money if that’ll get you to change your mind.”

  Oh. She hadn’t expected that at all. Her heart squeezed at the thought Pete was willing to fight for her.

  At least someone is, her brain added unhelpfully. In her mind’s eye, she saw Marco’s blank expression when she’d hoped he’d tell Brady they were together.

  Her breath caught as her eyes welled up again.

  Pete came around the desk with a box of tissues. “Come, now. Tell me what’s really going on.”

  Alyssa accepted the Kleenex and blotted her eyes.

  He pulled out the chair next to her and sat.

  She forced her emotions under control and blinked away the tears, refusing to let them fall. “I just like everyone here very much. I hate to leave all these new friendships.” Her breath shuddered. “And I hate disappointing you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been around the block a time or two. I know how things work.” He stared at her for a long moment, as if he knew there was more to her story but had decided not to pry. “I’ll have your check ready first thing Thursday morning. You come by whenever you want.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Pete. And I truly am sorry I can’t give you more notice.”

  “Good luck, kid.” He shook her hand.

  Alyssa drove back to her hotel knowing she had a million things to arrange before Thursday. She had a phone appointment with one of the other convention center staff members who was looking for roommates to share a townhouse, and Alyssa was hoping that would work out. If not, she’d need to contact a roommate-locator service. She probably ought to do some shopping for new work clothes before she left. And now that Brady was home, she should make time to see him, too.

  Her mom had died. Her father had gone crazy. Brady and Marco had joined the army. Alyssa had never been the one to do the leaving before. Honestly, she didn’t think things were any easier on this side.

  With several to-do items crossed off her list, including the high likelihood the townhouse in DC would work out, she came to work Monday afternoon expecting an endless round of conversations where she had to explain why she was leaving, but Pete hadn’t told anyone. Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief and decided to sit on the news for at least another day. Her emotions were too raw, too near the surface, and she didn’t relish the thought of having to fight back tears every time she talked to someone. Another stroke of luck came her way when she found Jameson tending bar. She’d forgotten Marco was off that night but appreciated the temporary reprieve from having to face him.

  Hearing from him was another matter, though. He’d called her phone at least a dozen times since she’d walked out Sunday morning and left six messages she hadn’t yet listened to.

  Sitting cross-legged in the middle of her hotel bed after work on Monday night, Alyssa finally braved playing the messages.

  The first one was from right after she’d left. “Alyssa, where did you go? You didn’t have your car and I can’t find you. Please call me. I’m worried about you.”

  Alyssa’s shoulders drooped. She skipped to the next one. “Hey, it’s me. Please call me back. I really want to talk to you.” Marco sighed, a long, troubled sound. “Alyssa, I’m sorry.”

  Not stopping to analyze that message, she played the third, this one from late last night. “Aly, do you remember me saying I had things I wanted to say? I’d still really like the chance to say them. I know I fucked up today. Please call me.”

  The fourth one went on for over ten minutes. “It’s me, Aly. It’s four o’clock and I can’t sleep because when I close my eyes, all I see is the sadness on your face. Please give me a chance to make things right.” Alyssa frowned at both the meaning of the words and the long silence that followed them. And then what she heard filled her eyes with hot tears. Marco strummed his guitar. For a while he was clearly warming up, and then he began to play. He missed notes and took breaks, but he made his way through an entire song, occasionally humming along. Despite his injury and the weakness of his hand, he was playing again just like he used to do to cheer her up.

  Tonight, it made her bawl like a baby.

  Every instinct in her body demanded she get in her car and go to him. To find a way to make him love her or to make herself accept whatever he could give. Which w
as exactly why she had to leave. Because that would still place her smack in between Brady and Marco, and it was the last place on the planet she wanted to be.

  She turned off her phone and crawled under the covers. She’d have to work up the courage to listen to the last two. But instead of falling asleep, all she could do was stare into the darkness and wonder if Marco was across town laying awake and thinking about her.

  …

  They closed in on the compound, months of intelligence leading them to this moment. Something about the yard bothered him, but Marco couldn’t place it and wrote it off as nerves or the damn heat. Over the ridge. Behind scrub. Into a ditch. He exchanged a glance with Brady.

  His heart took up its position in his throat.

  This was the dangerous part. There was no cover between the ditch and the exterior wall. But they met no resistance. The team took up positions within the courtyard, and Vasquez and Marten went for the door, with Marco and Brady close behind, providing cover.

  No. Nonono.

  But it wasn’t Wentworth tied to the chair, gagged and bloody. Instead, Alyssa stood on the other side, pinned against her car by a man who towered over her and had his hand around her throat. She fought him off, but he was too big and she couldn’t find the leverage to get free.

  Marco launched into a flat-out run, but it was like wading through a deep river flowing in the opposite direction. He powered his thighs through the current but didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. In the meantime, the man shoved Alyssa backward into the rear car seat and crawled in on top of her, the darkness covering his deeds. Only her muffled screams revealed her distress, and they were devastatingly loud in his ears—

  Marco flew into a sitting position and almost face-planted on the floor because the sheet was so tightly wound around his legs. He was drenched with sweat and breathing so painfully hard, he briefly considered whether he was having a heart attack. He dragged his hands through his hair and focused on getting himself under control.

  Leaning against the headboard, Marco analyzed the dream. Since Alyssa had walked back into his life, she was the only thing that had created any variation in the nightmare he’d been having for the past year. It was always the same. The compound. The foreboding. The by-the-book operation. And waking up just before it all went to shit.

  For a year, the ambush had defined his every moment. But the dream made it clear his fear over losing Alyssa was greater than his anxiety over what had happened and how he’d changed. He would always carry the weight of that day and those men with him, but she…she meant more to him than his past. It was time to grab hold of his present, his future.

  And that meant calling her wasn’t going to cut it. He didn’t blame her for avoiding him, but he needed to try harder, do more. Determination flowed through his veins.

  It was time he stood up and fought. For her. For himself.

  Marco grabbed his guitar from where it was resting against the nightstand. His arm ached from attempting to play so much lately. But playing reminded him of her encouragement, her belief in him, of her.

  As he strummed out an old tune, a plan began to take shape, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. And after months of living in the murk of darkness, the clarity was a revelation.

  …

  Marco walked into Whiskey’s with a sense of mission and purpose that had been missing these long months. He turned in to the lounge as someone called his name. He glanced over his shoulder to find his manager. “Hey, Pete. What’s up?”

  “Come see me when you have a sec?”

  Marco headed toward him. “Now works.”

  Pete led him around the kitchen to his office. “Close the door and have a seat.”

  Marco dropped into the chair. “Something wrong?”

  “Did you know I was married once?”

  “Uh, no,” Marco said, wondering where he could possibly be going with this. Sometimes Pete got going with a story and it was like a vortex from which you couldn’t escape.

  “I was married for eleven years. Best years of my life, too.”

  A strange sense of unease settled over Marco. “Why only eleven?”

  “Because Ellen died. Drunk driver. Just like that, she was gone.”

  Marco sat forward in his chair. “Damn. I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks. I told you this because I know how important it is to find and hold onto the person you love.”

  What could this possibly have to do with Alyssa? Marco couldn’t imagine, but his gut told him somehow it did.

  “It’s not my place to share this news, but I’m going to anyway, because when you’re young, sometimes you can’t get your head out of your ass long enough to see the world around you.”

  Marco froze as he absorbed Pete’s words. “Uh, okay.”

  “Alyssa Scott has taken a job in DC, and she’s moving on Thursday morning.” Pete stared at him.

  Marco couldn’t make sense of the words. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Heart in his throat and pulse roaring behind his ears, Marco rose to his feet. “Where is she?”

  “That’s what I thought. Sit down. She isn’t here. She brought her brother by to meet me this morning, and when I learned he’d just gotten home on leave, I gave her the day off. I knew the moment you arrived you didn’t know yet, because after Saturday night it was crystal clear you love her. So no way would you be walking around like everything was all right. And any idiot with two eyes could see she loves you.” Pete arched an eyebrow and nailed him with a stare. “So, that leaves me wondering why she’s leaving town and you’re looking like the news gutted you.”

  Marco pressed his fingers into his temple. He knew he had to fight for her, but he just hadn’t realized how little time he had.

  She’s leaving.

  Was she even going to tell him?

  Pete got up and came around to pat Marco on the shoulder. “She’ll be here tomorrow for her last shift. Just wanted you to know so you could decide if it mattered.”

  Marco rose. “It does. Thank you.” He went to the bar and spent the next hour getting set up for dinner. While his hands moved, his mind raced. He’d had a plan, but it wasn’t big enough. He saw that now. He needed a way to not only say what needed said, but convince her he meant every word. If he failed, he’d lose Alyssa forever. DC might not be that far away, but soul-deep he knew if he let her go, there wouldn’t be a second chance. And then he’d really know what pain and emptiness felt like.

  …

  Alyssa was already exhausted by the time the dinner service began on Wednesday evening. The staff had thrown a big farewell party for her in the break room and everyone had come. Pete had even invited Brady. The only one missing was Marco. And she’d thought her heart couldn’t hurt any more.

  Not only did she feel terrible for not telling him her plans, but at this rate she was beginning to worry she might not see him to say good-bye at all.

  When Brady had picked her up yesterday, she’d forced him to accept a “No Marco” rule to escape being badgered with questions and hearing his unsolicited opinion about what had happened—or hadn’t happened—between them. But now she was on the verge of breaking down and asking him where Marco was. If he knew she was leaving. If he was okay.

  The only thing that gave her the strength to persevere was taking care of her customers and looking forward to hearing Tommy finally perform for open mic night. He’d promised he would do it, since it was her last night there. She’d heard him play just once, at the picnic at Cunningham Falls, but here she’d get the full experience—microphone, acoustics, and the energy of the audience fueling him on.

  Finally, Tommy took center stage with his acoustic guitar. The waitstaff knew what a great musician he was and how infrequently he played in public, so everyone gathered around the edges of the venue to listen to him. He introduced himself and launched into a song. The rasp in his voice combined with the almost percussive way he played the guitar to create
an incredible, mesmerizing performance. Even the kitchen staff came out toward the end of the song to listen. When he finished, the room shot to their feet.

  Alyssa cheered and bumped shoulders with Kim. “Wow. He’s amazing,” she yelled into her friend’s ear.

  Kim grinned, then surprised her with a big hug.

  Alyssa laughed. “What’s this for?”

  “Just because, honey.”

  “Well, just my luck to follow that up,” the next musician said to the crowd’s laughter and whistles. “My name’s Marco, and this song is for Alyssa.”

  Alyssa whirled around, a lump forming in her throat as her gaze latched onto Marco, sitting on a stool with one knee propped to support his guitar. He adjusted the mic and began to play.

  She recognized the song within three notes and thought her legs might give out. Several hundred people sat and stood around the room, but all Alyssa could see was Marco. Proclaiming in his sweet voice he could never have enough time with her and to forget the world around them. When he hit the chorus and sang the words marry me, Alyssa lost the fight against her tears and pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from drawing attention to herself.

  Was this really happening? Was Marco really saying he loved her and…proposing? Her heart suddenly felt too big to fit in her chest.

  Hands settled on her shoulders from behind and she jumped. “Al?”

  “Brady,” she whispered, batting away her tears.

  He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry I was such a hothead and didn’t take the time to listen. He loves you. And if he’s what you want, you have my blessing.”

  The room went spinny around her. She focused on Brady’s face. The sincerity of his words was reflected in his expression, which was all pride and joy for her. For them. “Thank you,” she said, and threw her arms around his neck.

  “You’re welcome. Now, go put my man out of his misery and tell him you’ll marry his sorry ass.” He kissed her cheek.

  Alyssa choked out a laugh and swatted him in the chest. Brady chuckled.