Chapter Twelve
Marcus’ jaw was clenched so tightly he thought it might break under the strain. As the side of the Hawk opened, he gestured to his silent and somber team to help the sobbing civilians off.
Only Gabe remained, sitting beside Zeke’s body.
“Time to go, Gabe.”
Gabe’s hands curled into fists. “I will take down every single raptor on the entire fucking planet.”
“And I’ll help you. For now, let’s get Zeke to Doc. You know she’ll do right by him.”
Gabe gave a rough nod and for a second, Marcus caught a glimpse of the man’s gray eyes. They looked like thunderclouds boiling and brewing before a storm. He was always intense, but now something frightening was alive in his eyes.
Marcus didn’t let himself think or feel as he picked up Zeke’s body. Not yet.
Doc Emerson stood near the Hawk, an iono-stretcher hovering behind her.
And beside her stood Elle, her hands clamped together in front of her and her face etched with grief.
A flood of conflicting emotions rushed through Marcus. And leading them was guilt.
He’d been enjoying himself with Elle, and he’d taken his eye off the ball. Now, one of his team had paid the price and the rest of them were bleeding from the wound.
As the sobbing survivors were checked over by Doc Emerson’s staff, he stared at a shell-shocked little boy sitting on a chair, covered in blood. His ears had been cut off.
For a second, Marcus flashed back to other children left dying in pools of their own blood. Another time he’d been too concerned with his own goddamned wants and needs to do what had to be done. To be one step ahead of the bad guys.
He set Zeke’s body down on the stretcher.
“I’m so sorry, Marcus,” Emerson said. But her gaze strayed over Marcus’ shoulder to Gabe, standing like a silent sentinel on the other side of the stretcher.
“Take care of him.” The words sounded torn from Gabe.
“I will.” The doctor looked like she wanted to reach out to the grieving man. But after a second, she nodded. “And we’ll do what we can to help the survivors.”
Marcus ground his teeth together. “The raptors had them for a while. Torturing them.”
“Like I said, we’ll do what we can. But they’ll need time for the emotional wounds to heal. You got them out of there, that’s what counts.”
But at what cost? So many of them had terrible injuries and Marcus knew better than most that sometimes the emotional scars never healed.
And now Zeke was dead.
“Marcus.”
Elle’s voice was a balm but at the same time made his guilt spike. He wanted to pull her close and bury his face in her hair. Just hold on and forget for a second.
But as he watched the stretcher move away, with the body of a good man going cold on it and the man’s broken brother walking beside it, he couldn’t bring himself to touch Elle.
Zeke would never laugh, never spar with Gabe, never hold a woman again.
Instead, Marcus held up a black crystal. “They left this at the attack site for us to find. We need to know what’s on it. Now.”
Elle took it and nodded. “Okay.” She reached her other hand for him.
Marcus side-stepped her. “I need to check on Zeke…and Gabe. I’ll come to the lab soon.” He walked away and forced himself not to look back.
It took him almost an hour to prize Gabe away from his brother’s side. Emerson was taking great care with Zeke’s body, but seeing the once-vibrant man and badass warrior with all his armor stripped away…seeing his body so still and white on the damn bunk in the infirmary left Marcus feeling a sick mixture of despair and fury.
He needed to find that comms hub. And blow the fucking raptors to hell.
He needed to stay focused on his mission and not on organizing picnics and kissing sweet, full lips.
Marcus slammed into the comp lab.
Elle’s head shot up. She sat hunched over her comp console. The screen in front of her was filled with raptor symbols and she held a stylus poised above her tablet.
The sick look on her face made his gut clench. “What?”
“Marcus, I don’t think—”
“Tell me what you found, Elle.”
Her gaze darted away and she took a deep breath. “They left a message on the crystal.”
He strode over and looked over her shoulder. She held a spread palm over the tablet but then, reluctantly, she inched it away.
They died in payment for your continued, futile attacks on us. Their blood is on your hands.
The more you fight back, the more we will retaliate. More will die.
Marcus breathed through his nose, fighting back the vicious emotions storming through him. He wanted to stride down to the cells below and tear their raptor prisoner apart with his bare hands.
Instead, he settled for slamming a fist into the desk. The table jolted, rocking the comp screen.
Elle watched him, biting her bottom lip. “It’s not your fault, Marcus.”
“I didn’t have my head in the game. I was too twisted up thinking about—” He had enough sense to cut off his words, but he saw her flinch. He knew he should say something to make it better. And he knew he was being an ass, but he just didn’t have it in him right now to be anything else. “Find the comms hub.”
She nodded. “I won’t stop until I do.”
There were other things he wanted to say and do, but all he could see in his head was Zeke’s blank face and that little boy covered in blood. “I…have to go.”
Elle’s lips pressed into a flat line. “Okay. I’ll get to work.”
He turned and walked away.
“Marcus?”
He paused but didn’t look back. He was afraid he might collapse at her feet, tug her into his arms and never let go.
“You’re not alone,” she said quietly. “Remember that.”
As he slammed out of the lab, he’d never felt more alone in his life.
***
Marcus jabbed his fist into the boxing bag hanging from the gym ceiling. As it swung, he followed with a powerful kick that rattled the chain holding the bag, then he slammed a sequence of unforgiving punches into the battered leather.
Sweat dripped into his eyes and soaked his T-shirt. He’d been in here since he’d dragged himself out of his bunk that morning, and after he murdered the bag, he was going to lift some weights.
It had been two days since Zeke had died.
Two days since a good man’s body had gone cold.
He hadn’t heard from Elle, so he assumed she didn’t have a location yet. He hadn’t seen her, hadn’t seen anyone. He’d either been in the gym or sitting up on the roof in the darkness.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Cruz’s voice made Marcus jerk around. His friend stood there in black cargo trousers and a black T-shirt. Menace radiated off him.
“Working out.”
“You haven’t spoken to the team. You haven’t seen Gabe. You haven’t turned up for training. I didn’t think moping was your style, Marcus.”
Marcus felt a muscle in his jaw tick. “If that’s it, you can leave. Or I’ll kick your ass instead of this bag.”
Cruz shook his head. “The team’s doing okay, by the way. Well, about as okay as we can be right now. I’m worried about Gabe, he’s silent at the best of times, but now he won’t talk at all. He keeps disappearing and won’t tell me where he’s been. But worst of all is what you’ve done to Elle. I thought you cared about her, wanted to protect her.”
Marcus stilled. “I haven’t done anything to Elle.”
Cruz made a rude noise. “You told her to find the comms hub, Marcus. No matter what. What did you think Ellie was gonna do, amigo?” The man shook his head. “She’s fucking working herself to the bone, you idiot. She hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten.”
Marcus’ heart kicked his ribs. “What?”
“She’ll kill herself trying to decode that raptor gibberish. You guys are perfect for each other. You’re here blaming yourself, she’s blaming herself. A pair of idiots.”
“Cruz—”
The other man chopped his hand through the air. “Save it—”
Marcus grabbed Cruz’s shoulders and shook him. “Is Elle all right?”
“No. She’s exhausted and looks sick.”
Shit. Marcus released him and scraped a hand through his hair.
“Look, Marcus, blame the damn raptors for Zeke, not yourself. Then make Elle get some sleep.”
Marcus was already headed for the door. He jogged through the tunnels. He had to get to her.
When he stepped into the lab, she was in her usual position, hunched over the keyboard. He frowned. What the hell was Cruz talking about? She looked fine.
“Elle.”
She flinched and glanced over her shoulder. His gut took a hit. Her face was deathly pale and her eyes were sunken and underscored with black circles. She didn’t just look tired, she looked dead on her feet.
“I’m really close, Marcus. I made a few mistakes and got tangled up for a bit because the symbols seem to move around, but I’m back on track.” She lifted a hand to brush her hair off her face. Her hand shook. “I’ve narrowed it down to a certain radius. The hub’s in the suburbs somewhere south of the city, near the airport. A few more hours and I hope to crack it.”
“When did you last eat?”
Her gaze skittered away, back to the screen. “I’m not hungry.”
He stepped closer. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I don’t remember. Our…the picnic, I think.”
Marcus swore and watched her curl in on herself.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he bit out.
“I know,” she whispered.
“Come on. You need to eat.”
A little life sparked in her eyes. “No. I have to find that hub.”
“Now. Or I’ll carry you.”
“I don’t like you much when you get bossy.”
“I don’t care.”
“Look—” she stood and took one step.
She collapsed.
Marcus lunged forward and caught her. “Dammit! Elle?”
“I…don’t feel very well.” Her eyelids fluttered closed and she fainted.
Marcus swung out of the lab and headed straight for the infirmary. She’d be all right. She had to be.
“Exhaustion,” Emerson pronounced, checking Elle’s eyes with a tiny light.
“I’m fine,” Elle protested from where she lay on a bunk.
“She needs rest and something to eat. Something packed with calories.”
Elle tried to get up. “I said—”
“Be quiet.” He scooped her back into his arms. “I’ll take care of her.”
They were silent as he strode toward her quarters. At her door, she pressed her palm to the lock and the door released.
Her room was almost identical to his, but of course Elle had added small touches that made hers seem more homely. A small carving of a bird sat on a shelf along with a small collection of old-fashioned books. A blanket that was a swirl of blues and green sat folded on the end of her bunk. And on the bedside table was a framed picture of Hell Squad with Cruz, Zeke and Shaw holding Elle up sideways. She was grinning and glancing up at Marcus where he stood beside them, his arms crossed.
They were his family now and he’d let them down. Again.
He had to make things right. Starting with taking are of Elle.
“Shower,” he said.
Her eyes flashed. “I’m fine now. You can go.”
“Elle, get in the shower, or I’ll strip you myself and put you in there.”
She pressed her lips together, then stomped into her bathroom. Once he heard the water running, he hurried next door to ask the teenage girl he’d spoken to last time to grab some food from the dining room.
Once Elle reappeared, wrapped in a fluffy towel, he directed her to the bed and sat behind her. He picked up the brush he’d found in the bathroom. It felt far too small for his big hand but he was determined to take care of her. His carelessness had brought her to this.
When the hell would he quit screwing up and hurting people?
He started stroking the brush through her damp hair.
“I’m sorry about Zeke,” she said softly.
Marcus paused, then resumed stroking. “He was a good soldier, a good man.”
“Is Gabe okay?”
“No. But he’s tough. He’ll pull through.” Marcus gripped her hair. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m tired.”
His jaw tightened but he let it go for now. After a few more strokes, her head fell forward and she made a small moan. Partway through, her neighbor knocked on the door with a tray of food.
Marcus thanked the teenager before closing the door in her curious face.
He forced Elle to eat some bread, soup and fruit. He also managed to get half a cup of tea into her. Then he went back to the rhythmic strokes of brushing her hair. Damned if he didn’t find it almost hypnotic and her hair was so soft, like silk. His mind was quiet for the first time in days.
Elle’s breathing slowed and her shoulders drooped. She slowly relaxed back against him and dropped into sleep like a child.
Marcus stayed there a long time, not wanting to disturb her. He just watched her sleep, the delicate rise and fall of her chest. Eventually, he settled back on the bed, pulling her with him. He thought she was still asleep but he felt her muscles tense.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.
“I’m feeling much better.” Her words were stiff.
He dragged in a breath. “I’m sorry I ignored you.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay, you—”
“No, baby. It isn’t. I was messed up. I was angry and grieving, and I took part of it out on you.”
“You shut me out,” she said, her tone blank.
“I know. I shut everyone out.”
“When you’re with someone, you’re supposed to lean on them. Share how you feel. In the good times and the bad.”
“Never been good at that.” He stroked a thumb over her lips. “Never wanted to be.”
“Unless this is just sex. Just fuck—”
He shook her. “No.”
She watched him for a moment. “You hurt me.”
Those softly spoken words speared into him and hurt worse than any bullet or laser burn. He tightened his arms around her. “I know. I’m sorry.” He shifted, rolling until she was tucked beneath him. “Whatever you want me to do to make it up to you, I will.”
Her eyes were closed and he hated that. Hated being shut out.
“Look at me, Elle.”
Her eyelids lifted and those luminous blue eyes seemed to see all the way inside him.
“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again. I’m a man and not one who’s easy with his feelings. But I want to protect you, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll try my best not to do it again.”
Her lips trembled and her face softened. “Okay.”
“We okay?”
She nodded.
Then he moved his hips until he knew she’d feel the hard bulge of his cock against her thigh. “Let me make it up to you.
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and heat flared to life in her eyes. “You’ll have to work pretty hard.”
A laugh escaped him, everything inside of him easing. “Well, baby, you’re in luck. Marines have excellent stamina.”
She helped him tear open his pants. As he stood to shuck off his boots and trousers, she cupped his cock, teasing him.
With a groan, he pushed her back on the bed and covered her with his body. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he pushed inside her, slowly. Inch by tortuous inch. She moaned, her hands clutching at his back.
Damn, she was so hot and tight. But he was going to go slow this time if it killed him. Which it just might. “Now I’ll say sorry the best way I know.”