by Sasha Winter
“That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, come on. You like her, don’t you? Looked like you were getting on swimmingly.”
“She’s great, and I like her very much, it’s just…”
“Told you it was a good idea to see a physio. Might get a bit of a special service from her, I’m imagining.”
Marcus couldn’t see, but he was sure Blake was winking down the phone as he made this suggestive comment. He resisted dwelling on how ridiculous that might look to one of his office colleagues and got straight to the point.
“Blake, the military is calling me back in.”
‘You what?’ came the response, after the most thoughtful pause he had ever heard Blake make—it must have lasted at least a second.
“I said they’re calling me back, or trying to anyway.”
“You mean reinstating you?”
“They’re dropping my dishonorable discharge and asking me to move into a special shifter unit.”
“A special shifter unit?” Blake replied, incredulous.
“I know. Someone’s pet project.”
“Where did they get permission for that?”
“Beats me.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’ve never felt so indecisive my entire life, Blake,” Marcus replied. “I’m so desperate I’m turning to the likes of you for advice.”
Blake chuckled. “Well, what’s at the forefront of your mind? You still pissed off at them?”
“Of course.”
“But something must be making you consider it.”
“Army life came to an abrupt end I guess. I feel like I have unfinished business, and this unit is something a guy like me should be involved in for the sake of the country.”
“So what’s keeping you here?”
Marcus was silent.
“They’ll let you take Max onto the base, you know. Though I can look after him as well.”
“Sure, but…”
“Oh, hang on a minute,” Blake said, adding a degree of suspicion to his tone of voice. “Am I getting the distinct impression that matters might have progressed a bit further with a certain Miss Cortes than I had previously imagined?”
“Er, no, not at all.”
Blake snickered. “Are you sure? You don’t sound very sincere there, lover boy.”
“There’s a lot to think about, that’s all.”
“There isn’t much to think about unless a woman’s involved, buddy. You’re not doing anything else that can’t be left behind. So give me the lowdown.”
“Blake, we haven’t done anything,” he insisted.
‘But that’s not the whole story, is it? All right,” Blake went on, not waiting for an answer, “I know you’re too noble to ever kiss and tell and all that, but Marcus, if you want my advice you’ll find out exactly how she feels before making any decision.”
“I hardly know her, Blake. That’s the problem.”
“Then you’re going to have to go on your instincts, bro. What will you regret the most? That’s my analysis anyway; signing off. Work calls again.”
Blake hung up the phone, having presented his blunt ultimatum, but maybe that was what Marcus needed. Soldiers thrive on direct orders and become stuck in gray areas. The dilemma still felt as complicated, but there was one possible direction to take, only it involved confronting his own feelings.
Marcus had been growing very fond of Ashley, of course, but mostly he had been relieved to be putting the embarrassment of their first meeting behind him. He hadn’t gotten round to thinking about whether his feelings for her ran as deep as Max’s clearly did, considering it premature to jump to such extreme conclusions when he was still getting to know her. There had been the revelation of their meeting online, on the other hand. As well as causing him to wonder whether their meeting was actually fate, it furthered his suspicions that she might be as attracted to him as he was to her—more so than a drunken dance in some bar and accidentally waking up in his bed had.
All the same, he hadn’t even asked her on their first date yet. That was supposed to occur the next time he visited her office, so jumping forward to questions about whether she might be in love with him, or something, seemed like a stretch too far. The idea of such a conversation was holding him back, but then he realized….they would have to have it anyway. Ashley was his physiotherapist, and he couldn’t just go waltzing off without informing her or seeking further advice on how to manage his injury.
Looking to bite the bullet, Marcus picked up the phone again and was about to make the call when something held him back. He knew they had to have the conversation, but attempting it over the phone felt doomed to failure. A sales job would certainly not have been for him; he despised any phone conversation that was not very simple in content, and so knew he had to see her instead. Finding the right words to express emotions he was still figuring out himself was probably not possible, but he was more concerned that Ashley see the look on his face and that she knew him to be sincere and was able to respond instinctively.
Hasty it might have been, but he knew then that his feelings for her were deeper than he was letting on. Never had he been happier than during their walk in their park earlier that morning; denial had kept him from admitting that he was falling for her. There was nothing for it but to tell her and base his decision upon her reaction. His fate lay in her hands, but he was not going to ask her over the phone. Her working day would end soon and he would be there as it closed—as he had at the beginning—to pour out his heart and see if she would have him.
She’s the one for me, he thought. But could I ever be the one for her?
Chapter 11
Fearing that he might be running late or Ashley might leave early, Marcus took to his car to make sure he was on the premises of her office with time to spare. Initially he had pictured another meeting in the park, surrounded by greenery and blue sky, but the day was beginning to cloud over and the location seemed less romantic with evening approaching and the rush of people leaving work about to proceed.
Leaving Max at home and hoping his pet would forgive him if he came back smelling like Ashley, Marcus found his way without trouble to the parking garage of Ashley’s building. There were many offices there, and he sat for a few minutes watching the workers come and go as he decided what his next decisive course of action should be.
The car radio was full of political debate about all the atrocities going on in Syria and about keeping us all safe from extremists. Iraq had also been a crazy place when he was there, leaving him to pity the children who had to grow up in the Middle East, knowing it to be a volatile part of the world. Subsequent events in that region had not surprised him, but ever since Iraq, it felt like that craziness was succeeding in infecting the rest of the globe. The United States still looked the same to his eyes, but it never sounded the same whenever someone was talking about it.
Perhaps it was a time when all soldiers were required to prioritize their duty, regardless of how the army honored them. Then again, there was another school of thought telling us that when terror and evil are looking to hold sway in the world the best thing good people can do is go about their lives normally. What was more normal than falling in love and settling down? What greater affront to the terrorists who wanted everyone to live in fear than practicing the freedom and liberties that offended them so much?
Two different philosophies on life were opening up to Marcus at the same time, neither of which he found he disagreed with as such. The only question was which one to choose.
Which course was right for him?
In answering these questions, Marcus found he was in a familiar position, in that someone else had the power. Back in his army days it was his superiors who decided what his fate would be, but now that power was all with Ashley and, a kinder and gentler face though it might have, it might still decide his role was to sign up and fight.
It was time to go and find out. Leaving the political debate behind, he
headed towards the building’s entrance, wondering how long it was before Ashley would emerge. On reaching the doorway, he stopped to wait for her pretty face to show up, but urgency was upon him by then. He was worried he would lose his nerve, and afraid though he was that she might not feel the same way, he wanted clarity.
His decision to wait outside probably held out for about five seconds, and then he was inside the building, heading towards the elevator that would take him up to the fifth floor. As if practicing his marching again, he sought to avoid breaking his stride and whatever date with destiny was ahead, but his singlemindedness was interrupted by the sounds of a struggle.
“No! Stop!” came a shrill cry. “Vince, get away from me!”
A woman was in distress of some kind up ahead, just round the corner where the elevators were to be found, so Marcus quickened his pace to find out what on earth was going on.
What he saw caused his blood to boil and his hair to stand on end, because the woman in distress was Ashley herself.
She was being attacked.
A man who is both a soldier and a lion must practice self-restraint in order to co-exist with his fellow man, but there are always scenarios that see personal morality kicked out of the window, especially when those we love are being threatened.
The imbecile who was attacking her wouldn’t know the extent of the danger heading his way, but Marcus was giving way to every instinct evolution had gifted him with, fixing the man—who could only be Ashley’s fool of an ex—in his predatory sights and letting loose just as he had back on the borders of Baghdad.
He wasn’t going to get away with hurting her.
Not now, not ever again.
Chapter 12
Completing her day’s chores, Ashley had been keen to get home and put her feet up, feeling that yesterday evening was catching up with her at last. Not that she regretted giving into Veronica’s suggestion, even with the revelation that she was being tricked into sharing the night out with one of her clients. Marcus had been terrific company; almost too terrific, and confronting the issue as to whether she should forward him to another physiotherapist would be one dilemma to think about over the next couple of days. This depended on figuring out whether he was as interested in her as she was in him, of course, but she had not given the matter too much more thought that day, concentrating as she had been on catching up with the paperwork a morning’s hangover had kept her from.
Pleased to have made good ground and feeling generally optimistic about her life for a change, she’d turned everything off and was heading home for the day only to discover that a restraining order was not always enough to guarantee safety.
Vince was in the building.
Seeking legal help had given her peace of mind regarding her ex’s volatility, but she had underestimated his insolence and recklessness, and like a face out of a nightmare, there he was precisely when she stepped out of the lift and onto the first floor. Had he behaved calmly or if the meeting had been coincidental, then she might have been able to deal with it tactically, but Ashley didn’t need to consult one of the psychologists on her floor in order to see that a fury was upon Vince; one that no words she was prepared to give would succeed in smothering.
“Ashley, you’re damn well coming home with me!” he ordered, grabbing her coat sleeve.
“Let go of me, Vince!” she shouted, but at the first sign of resistance his demand accelerated into a full-on attack.
He grabbed and twisted the middle of her shirt, drawing it up to her neck so that she was standing on her tiptoes and unable to move in any direction, then with his free hand he grabbed a clump of her hair as further insurance against her being able to move. His grip was cruel and caused her to cry out, with no idea what she could do to stop him hurting her further.
“No! Stop! Vince, get away from me!”
“No. You’re coming back with me or I’m going to have to hurt someone,” he said with a sneer, hot breath in her face giving away the smell of beer. “I’ve got a knife and I’m not about to be messed with.”
Her ex’s mind was clearly functioning without compromise, but just then a sound erupted that pierced through his singular vision and her alarm at the same time.
It was a lion’s roar.
Many times she had heard such a noise during nature documentaries, even at cinemas with surround sound, but neither prepared Ashley for hearing the bloodcurdling terror that gripped her soul when that roar was let out in close proximity. Within the fibers of its sound lay the truth behind why mankind had come to call the lion the ‘king of the jungle’. Many a hunter on the plains of Africa has felt their blood run cold on hearing such a threat, even if they were armed with a rifle, but in Ashley’s everyday surroundings there was no withstanding its ferocity. Instantly she felt Vince’s grip on her loosen, and she was able to turn her head in time to see the jaws of death bearing down on her ex, crowned by a majestic head of hair that allowed the lion to look twice its own bulk—not that its physique needed such a show.
Ashley knew it was Marcus, though she had no idea how he had come to be there, and she was unable to see him. Neither was she able to see his love for her or his urge to protect; all she saw was a predator bearing down with fangs raised and claws extended. She thought he might actually rip Vince apart and wanted to stop him—even her loathsome ex did not deserve such a fate—but any cry of protest she wanted to make lodged in her throat, and she fell back against the wall, shaking with fright and unable to move.
This is a dream. This can’t be real, she told herself over and over again.
But it was real; all too real.
The attack proceeded so quickly that it was almost impossible to register what was happening. Marcus, in his lion form, bowled Vince over, propelling him something like three car lengths back down the corridor. Almost unbelievably, the great cat was then fast enough to get on top of him before his shocked human frame even had a chance to consider getting back to his feet.
Ashley expected blood and death right there and then, but instead Marcus simply stomped one of his powerful paws upon Vince’s chest and held him still. If she had dated the world’s strongest man, then all the illegal steroids a body can take to build up strength would still not have been enough to make the encounter anything like a contest. To the surprise of both of them the exchange was not yet over, however. Desperately, Vince had managed to withdraw the knife he had mentioned from his jacket pocket and, just as Marcus had turned to look back at Ashley as if awaiting further instructions, a stabbing thrust was made.
Snarling with renewed annoyance, Marcus turned back to the focus of his attack and, with his free paw, easily swatted away the knife which then rolled along the corridor. Even after being wounded, the lion was still able to keep its self-control, although it probably didn’t look that way to the horrified Vince. Positioning his jaws directly above the defeated man, Marcus let out a second roar right into his face, designed to show all the sharpness of his teeth and power of his jaws at close range.
The act did its trick.
Vince probably thought he was about to get his head bitten off, and by the time the show was finished, he lay flat on the floor staring into space. No longer was a paw required to keep him there either, for in that position Vince would stay until the paramedics came and took him away, medicated against the effects of shock.
What happened over the next few minutes was a bit of a blur to Ashley. As Marcus finished his roar, she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor trying to catch her breath. It might have been that Marcus then came over to consider her close up, still in his lion form, but he couldn’t have lingered long, no doubt deciding it was best for her if he go and shift back out of sight.
Following this, Ashley became aware of various other people appearing on the scene. Evidently, the roar of a lion had caused quite a ruckus, and various security guards, office staff, and eventually police and paramedics were drawn to the vicinity as soon as the first of them had
been brave enough to stick their head round the corner and assess that they were safe to approach.
A few people were asking her if she was okay when, from amid the crowd, Marcus reappeared dressed in some kind of shawl that either he had found or someone had found for him.
“You okay, Ashley?” he asked.
Seeing a friendly face succeeded in bringing her back to normality. She was able to nod, but was really still quite far from being okay. The incident had brought back bad memories, and she was fed up of violence constantly threatening to erupt in her life.
“Thank you for protecting me,” she managed to say, though she wanted to add that she was relieved Marcus had not killed him. Just then she noticed that something was dripping on the floor between them, and she remembered that Vince had stabbed Marcus.
“Oh my God, you’re injured!” she cried, snapping out of her hysteria at last and looking to take control of the situation. Although Marcus insisted it was not bad, Ashley dragged him over to one of the paramedics who was shining a light in Vince’s eyes and demanded that they shift their priorities.
“This man saved me,” she said, desperation in her tone, “when that guy might have stabbed or strangled me. Please look at his wound and do what you need to.”
Once she was satisfied they were acquiescing to her request, Ashley then turned to the police who had exchanged some previous words with her though she could not remember what. The next half an hour was then spent telling them exactly what and why the incident had happened, answering every question they had—even when it sounded like it was going over the same ground—and relating her full story of Vince’s past behavior. She stressed time and time again that Marcus had only acted to protect her and she might have been harmed otherwise, until they got the message and informed her that her patient would not be charged with anything.
Marcus had answered a few questions himself, while his stitches were being applied, and Ashley was relieved to see he looked quite calm about the whole affair. She would have hated for all the mistakes of her life to seep over into his. By the time the paramedics had finished their work and the police had asked all their questions, Vince was stretchered off into an ambulance. The police had made an attempt to inform him that he was under arrest but, as all that came back was a blank face probably still dreaming about lion’s teeth, Ashley suspected they would have to read him his rights later on as well in order for the information to sink in properly.