“No top rope.”
“Damn, Marc. What were you thinking?”
Problem was he wasn’t thinking very clearly lately. But he didn’t need his former SAR partner giving him a lecture right now. He knew he’d fucked up. “Hey, just take your time busting my ass. I’ll hang around until you get here.” He looked up at the falls he hadn’t been able to conquer today.
“Any injuries?”
“Sore rib, tight chest, but I don’t think there’s a pneumo.”
“I’m on my way.”
* * *
“What happened? Where’s Marc?”
Angelina had overheard enough of the conversation to know Luke was talking with Marc—and that he was in some kind of trouble.
“Don’t worry about a thing, darlin’.” Luke grabbed his sheepskin jacket and Stetson on his way to the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Luke, stop! Is he okay?”
Luke twisted the doorknob and opened the door, tossing back over his shoulder, “Pride’s hurt worse than anything. He slipped on some ice. He just needs a little help getting up again…or maybe down.”
Angelina knew from the way he’d reacted on the phone it was more serious than he was letting on. Was Marc lying on the cold ground with a broken ankle or leg or something? What did Luke mean by getting him down? Maybe he’d been climbing and was hurt on a ledge or something. Her imagination ran away from her like his Porsche hurtling around the mountain curves.
She didn’t want to remain calm. Damn it, she wanted to make sure Marc was okay.
“I’m going with you.” She removed her chef’s apron and tossed it on a dining-room chair as she ran across the room, grabbing her coat off the hook by the door where she’d hung it this morning after helping Luke clean stalls.
Luke closed the door again and took the coat from her hands. His face grew serious. “Angel, you’re not going with me. Call it a macho guy thing, but his ego isn’t going to want to have you seeing him in the predicament he’s put himself into. If you want to run over and play nursemaid to him later, I’ll take you to him myself. But not until he’s back on solid footing. ’Til then, you’re staying here to keep working on that fabulous supper I smell cooking. I’m going to be hungry when I get back. Maybe I can even talk the big lug into joining us.”
She blinked away the tears of frustration, clenching her fists to keep from yanking her coat away and following him, if need be, to wherever Marc was waiting.
But Marc needed help, might even be hurt. Clearly, Luke wasn’t going to back down. She yanked the coat away from him and returned it to the hook.
“Hurry! Go take care of him.” If she couldn’t be the one, she wanted someone he trusted to be there for him.
Luke reached out and stroked her cheek. “You know I will, baby girl. He’s gonna be all right. This might just be the attitude adjustment he needs. I’ll let him know how badly you wanted to come with me. How much you care.”
“Wait!” Angelina rushed into the kitchen to bag some biscotti she’d baked last night and ran back into the living room. “Here. Take him these.”
Luke added the bag to his pack. With a peck on the cheek, he reopened the door to a blast of cold air and slammed it resoundingly. He was gone.
Anxiety took a firm hold of her. She could do nothing but wait.
And make cannoli—Marc’s favorite. She returned to the kitchen, grabbing her apron on the way, and started pulling out the ingredients from the fridge and pantry. Luke’s kitchen was much better stocked now than it had been when she’d arrived.
The howling of the wind picked up outside, and she tried to tune it out by singing some of Papa’s favorite Dean Martin classics. When she heard the howl of a wolf or coyote in the distance, she dropped the spoon and looked out at the pitch-black night. Her man was out there at the mercy of whatever might happen across his path.
“Please, Luke, hurry. He needs you.”
* * *
The phone disconnected, and Marc closed his eyes. Images of Angelina in the French maid’s uniform he’d asked Adam to buy for her last October invaded his mind for some reason. Maybe it was Luke’s mention of her being in the kitchen cooking. A vision of her chained to the stove in their kitchen back in Denver sent his cock to throbbing, which only caused his chest to ache even worse.
He really had been an ass where Angelina was concerned. She’d done nothing but try to help him face the truth and come to terms with the past. In return, he’d done nothing but run—from both her and the past. In the bargain, he’d shut her out.
He was going to lose her forever if he didn’t do something about it. About her.
But could he stop running? Merda, he’d been running since he joined the Navy. Maybe even before that—when he’d found Gino in bed with Melissa. He’d always managed to keep the drama and emotion around him at least an arm’s length away, but since Angelina had left, he’d been fucking miserable. Even if she wanted him to deal with things he’d rather run from, his whole world had collapsed when she was no longer in it. He couldn’t eat, sleep, or work.
He couldn’t even climb a fucking icefall.
Marc watched the sun sink behind Iron Horse Peak and pulled his jacket closer around him. Without its rays, the temperature would drop like an anchor.
The sound of boots trudging through the once-again crunchy ice alerted him that Luke probably had shown up. Marc watched where the trail opened up to the area at the base of the falls and waited. Having his friend come to his rescue didn’t sit well with him.
Luke rounded the bend and zeroed in on Marc’s location immediately. He gave him a slow grin.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Marc stood taller, hoping to alleviate any concern Luke might have for his well-being, but the movement exacerbated the pain in his rib, making it smart even more. He smiled, refusing to let on. The sooner he got back to Brian’s cabin, the better.
Luke set his pack on the ground and unzipped it. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Merda. He hadn’t even thought about eating since breakfast. “Not too long ago.”
Luke pulled out a zippered bag and opened it. “Well, I’ll bet whatever it was didn’t taste as good as these.”
The smell of almond biscotti he knew had been made by Angelina’s own hands caused a lump to form in his throat that would make eating them next to impossible.
“She made them last night. Damned good.”
Last night. So she’d made them for Luke. Well, of course she hadn’t known Marc would be calling on Luke for help, but the thought of her making her special dishes for someone else just rotted his gut.
“Open your jacket.” Marc unzipped the jacket again and pulled his T-shirt up. Luke whistled through his teeth. “Hell, man. You’re going to be black and blue for a few days.” Luke gently probed at the place where the edge of the ice chunk had impacted Marc’s rib. It took all of the strength he had left not to pull away.
“Probably need to head to the ER in Breckenridge and get that x-rayed to be sure it’s not broken.”
“No need. Even if it is, you know all they’ll do is tell me to take it easy for a while until it mends. But I think it’s just bruised.”
Luke scrutinized him a moment. “Coughing up any blood?”
“No.”
“Take a deep breath.”
Marc complied, remembering the time he’d given Damián similar instructions over the phone to help determine if Savi had suffered broken ribs from the beating she’d gotten before showing up at Damián’s a couple weeks before Christmas. She’d driven halfway across the country with a cracked rib. Marc felt a little foolish to have had to call Luke out here for a minor injury.
“Mind telling me what the hell you were doing climbing alone out here?”
“Needed to think.”
“You’ve had plenty of time for thinking. Isn’t it about time you started doing something to straighten out the mess you’ve made of things with
Angel?”
Marc didn’t need his friend pointing out his shortcomings. “I didn’t call you out here to play matchmaker. Just help me pack up my gear, and get me back to the cabin.
Luke shrugged. “Suit yourself. But she’s not going to wait around forever for you to get your head on straight.”
Was Luke still interested in Angelina? Why had she gone to him and not her mom’s or brothers’ homes?
Luke walked over to the falls and reeled in the dangling rope Marc had used to rappel down. “You’re going to lose more than a coupla sixty-five-dollar ice screws if you don’t swallow your pride and talk to her. I’ve found her to be a good listener. And she’s smart as a whip.”
Was that just an expression or had Luke and Angelina been doing play scenes together? The man had been working with Damián to perfect his butterfly kisses with the single-tail bullwhip since, well, before Savi had shown up.
Merda, what was he worrying about? Luke was one of his closest friends. He trusted him to keep things casual and not make moves on Marc’s girl. Besides Angelina and Luke had played at the club before when Marc was out on a trek with clients. But those times, Marc had always given his submissive permission to play.
His girl? His submissive? Since when? He’d blown it with her the night he’d shut her out of his decision to go to Italy, shut her out of his life. He didn’t like replaying the conversation from that night in his head either, but he’d been insensitive and rude. That’s no way to treat someone you want to be your girl.
The thought of her out there playing with Luke or anyone else wasn’t an image he welcomed.
Angelina was his.
At least he hoped she’d agree to be his again. She wasn’t going to wait forever for him to get his head on straight.
Dio, he missed her, but he hurt like hell right now and needed to be at his best before he faced her again. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him looking any weaker than he must already look.
“I’m going to rest up tonight at Brian’s. I’m sure I can get there on my own steam, but I’ll call if I have any problems.”
“You sure? I can drive you up there, and we can come back tomorrow for your vehicle.”
“No, I’m fine. And I promise I’ll get in touch with Angelina as soon as I get back to Denver. I’d like these bruises to heal before I see her.”
“You worried about your bruised chest or your bruised ego?”
Marc shrugged. “Maybe both.”
Angelina meant everything to him—but how could he go to her if he couldn’t commit to her one hundred percent? Whatever had happened all those years ago to cause him to avoid long-term attachments with women still hung over him. If he didn’t figure out the reason and face it, how was he ever going to be able to make things right with Angelina?
When he got back to Denver, he knew what he needed to do. If anyone could get the answers out of him, Adam could. Time to come clean with his friend and face whatever it was he was harboring deep inside.
Adam would be the perfect one for digging that deep. Besides, he trusted him more than he would a psych officer at the VA. Adam would have his six, no matter what was revealed.
* * *
The cannoli had cooled and were ready to be filled when, true to his word, Luke returned to the house about two hours later.
Alone. She’d hoped Marc would be with him.
Luke must have read her disappointment. “Sorry, Angel. He said he couldn’t face you yet.”
“Couldn’t face me?” Before she let her temper flare any further, she took a slow, deep breath. First, she needed to make sure he was okay. “How is he?”
“His chest will be smarting for a while. And his ego.”
“Mio Dio! Where is he? The hospital?” Memories of her father’s fatal injury suffered on Mount Evans overwhelmed her. “Was he alone?” Angelina hoped he hadn’t found someone else to climb with—least of all someone with girly bits.
“He was climbing Lodgepole Falls and had a run-in with a block of ice.”
Angelina’s heart stopped for a moment. She didn’t want him to die out there alone. Why had he taken such a chance?
Luke stroked her cheek. “Stop worrying, honey. He’s fine. I took him back to the cabin on Iron Horse Peak where he’s been staying the last couple weeks.”
“Alone? He’s up on a twelve-thousand-foot mountain alone and hurt?”
Luke patted her arm and grinned. “Yes, very much alone, unless you count some of the ghosts he seems to be running from.” She thought she heard him mutter, “jackass” before he continued. “Angel, you two are meant for each other, if you’d both just quit being so stubborn and talk to each other.”
Angelina raised her chin. “My number hasn’t changed.” Did she sound like a petulant brat? Tough. Marc knew what he needed to do to have her back in his life. Until Marc decided to involve her in a more significant way in his life, fully trusting her, the ball was in his court. She wasn’t going to try to rekindle what they had before. Obviously, their initial relationship didn’t have what it took to stand the test of time.
Luke shook his head and chuckled. “Don’t worry about him. He has his satellite phone and a well-stocked pantry. May be a little sore in the morning, but he’s survived a lot worse.”
Indeed he had. Severely injured in Iraq. Losing his brother in Afghanistan. Heck, losing his birth mother at a young age, too. Savi had said the other day that losses later in life were amplified for those who had been abandoned in childhood. Whether Marc understood it or not, he still needed to heal from losing his birth parents.
The urge to go to him and wrap her arms around him was so great she shook with the effort to keep from grabbing her coat and keys and heading to Brian’s hunting cabin. He’d taken her there a couple of times, knowing she preferred the comforts of a solid structure over sleeping in a tent when they spent time in the great outdoors. The wilderness no longer scared her, though, when Marc was beside her. But she wasn’t sure she could find the isolated cabin on her own.
“Come here.” Luke wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze. His arms felt good, but they weren’t Marc’s.
Maybe Luke was right. Marc was a proud man. Not about that. She already knew that about him. But Luke said she might need to be the one to reach out to him. If she did, perhaps he’d come around to trusting her sooner, and they could have a hope in hell of sharing a life together.
“Luke, you’re right. I think I’m ready to go to him. I can’t keep pretending life can go on without him, because it can’t. He may be stubborn and have all kinds of problems, but he’s mine and I want him back in my life.”
Luke grasped her upper arms and gently pushed her away so he could gaze into her eyes. He smiled.
“Why don’t you wait and go to Denver tomorrow? He said he’s heading home in the afternoon. Give him one more night of miserable aloneness to seal the deal, but I think he came to some kind of realization out on that mountain. He’s as ready as you are to have you home with him.”
One more night without Marc. She could survive that.
Barely.
Chapter Sixteen
The Marines’ Hymn sounded on his phone the afternoon after Luke had hauled his ass off Lodgepole Falls, jarring Marc from his thoughts on the drive home from Brian’s cabin. Adam. He’d left the man a message this morning saying he needed to talk but had said he’d call again when he got home to Denver tonight. Marc took the call without hesitation. Adam wouldn’t call to shoot the shit.
“Get to Damián’s ASAP. Savi and Marisol are in some kind of danger.”
“On my way.”
Merda. Good thing he was nearly home already. He took the next exit ramp and headed downtown. Still, it took him twenty-five minutes to navigate rush-hour traffic. Every time he hit the brake, the seatbelt pressed against his bruised chest, reminding him of his accident while ice climbing.
He rolled into the parking lot at Damián’s building and found Adam’s Sil
verado, Grant’s Jeep, and Damián’s Harley parked haphazardly around the foot of the staircase. Marc parked the Carrera equally askew and winced at the pain in his chest as he took the stairs two at a time, entering the open door to the apartment.
Hearing familiar voices in the bedroom, he followed the sound and relaxed when he saw Marisol in Damián’s arms. Thank God. Damián spoke to his eight-year-old daughter with a quiet firmness while the little girl held on to him tightly. They were okay. What the hell had happened?
“You did well, my little warrior.” He kissed her on the cheek before setting her on her feet and turning to face Marc.
“Sorry it took me so long.” He looked around the bedroom. No sign of Savi.
Damián looked at him, seething rage barely contained in his buddy’s eyes. “They have Savi.”
Fuck.
Marc didn’t know what to say and watched Damián hunker down in front of Marisol. “Uncle Marc is gonna take you over to Karla’s house. I might be gone awhile, but she’ll take good care of you.”
Marisol wrapped her arms around her daddy’s neck, begging to go with him. He hugged her back but remained resolute as he promised to bring her maman home.
Breaking her tight grip on him, Damián extended her hand to Marc. “Take good care of her.”
“You know I will. I’ll rejoin you as soon as I can.” Marc turned to Marisol and tried to lighten his voice. “Bambolina, how would you like to take a ride in my sports car?”
Her fierce expression made it clear she wanted nothing to do with her Uncle Marc right now. Obeying her father’s firm instruction, though, she took his hand, and Marc propelled her toward the door into the living room. Her gaze remained steadfastly on her daddy until she could no longer see him.
Marc squeezed her tiny hand as they descended the stairs. “Wait here, cara.” He went to Savi’s car and retrieved the booster seat from the backseat. Soon he had her buckled in and on the road to Adam and Karla’s. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your maman home safely to you.”
“Maman needs me.”
“I know, but your daddy doesn’t want to have to worry about you, too. It’s better if he knows you’re safe with Grammy Karla.”
Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) Page 24