Page 32 of Mending Our Chance

17 Felicity

I had insisted we sleep separately. Marcus took the bed because his long legs didn’t let him stretch on the couch. Sleep had snuck up on me so quickly. One moment I was channel surfing, the next I was out.

I awoke to darkness, the only light coming from the digital clocks on the kitchen appliances. The TV had been turned off and the room was silent. Then, a noise came. I realized it was the thrashing of a body. Is Marcus jerking off in bed? A smile crept over my face. It wasn’t what I wanted to think about, but it was also a very stimulating idea. Smirking, I considered my options. We had already kissed, besides all the touching and sneaking hidden glances—and it wasn’t like we hadn’t done this before. But if I was going to do this, I would need to talk to him before we went any further. I didn’t need a ring or a new last name. I just couldn’t do a fling again. I needed to know we had the possibility of a future. It was time for a talk.

Why not talk to him in bed—naked?

I slipped my bare feet out of the covers. Padding over to the mattress, I looked to the ceiling and shook my head. Here I go again. I just hope I know what I’m doing this time. I heard the twisting of blankets. He was really getting into it! Maybe I would have to help him finish before we could talk—and then we could do it together, later. He’s probably humping the bed. What else could all that noise be?

I stopped just above him and right as I was about to pounce on him, there came a moan. I froze. It wasn’t sexual in nature. It sounded like he was in pain. I turned to flip on the light, but tripped in the process.

“Marcus!”

There was no response. He was either having a nightmare or some terrible kind of seizure. Bumbling for the switch, I finally turned the lights on. I caught an image that would be burned into my mind for the rest of my life. Blinking in relief, I didn’t see a blue pallor or foam at his mouth. He wasn’t choking and it wasn’t a seizure. His body, however, was shaking and the sheen of sweat was on his skin.

His anxious breathing hadn’t stopped in the sudden light.

He was having a nightmare and I had to wake him up. Quickly reaching out, I shook him hard. “Marcus!”

Big mistake.

Two arms grabbed me and pulled me down. I struggled and called out to him again. His eyes flipped open, but there was no recognition in them, and I realized that Marcus had never been able to leave the terrors of war behind. He was trapped in the hell of his mind.

His strong fingers grabbed me hard and I froze so that he wouldn’t hurt me. He was speaking in a language I didn’t know, but assumed was something from the Middle East. That tone, however, was deadly, full of menace. Although my insides had flipped with terror, I kept a cool head. Realizing I was caught in his lethal threat, I wracked my brains for a way out of this mess.

I probably should not have tried to wake him. I knew that he could throttle me or worse, but I refused to believe that he’d hurt me. Pulling on a sense of false bravado, I kept talking to him in a loud but calm tone. “Hey buddy, come back!”

“You need to wake up now, Bud.”

“Dude, come back to me, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eventually, his eyes refocused on mine and his hold on me loosened. I scooted to the floor, listening to his gasping breaths. I waited for his breathing to calm down. It seemed like a long time later when he said, “Felicity, are you there?”

I immediately scrambled back onto the mattress. I could feel the heat radiating off him, yet there was a slight tremor to his muscles that told me he was cold. Pulling the blanket over his body, I cautiously laid down beside him.

I again waited for him to speak. Eventually, he asked, “How much of that did you see?”

“Enough.” I ran my fingers across his temples, smoothing back his hair. Repeating the motion, I decided the less he knew right this moment, the better. “How often does that happen?”

“Not very.” He sucked in a gulp of air. “Felicity, I’m so sorry. There are a lot of things on my mind. I knew my anxiety was through the roof today. I should have told you that I might have a nightmare.”

“Don’t be—at least, not for that.” I thought quickly, aware that he needed something to take his mind off things. “Look, we need to talk.”

There was a sigh and Marcus propped himself up on an elbow. His large body was tense and there was a look on his face that could only be described as sorrow. “I knew this was coming.”

“What?”

“The part where you say you can’t handle my fucked up life and that you’re leaving.”

On impulse, I threw my arms around his neck and burrowed into him. “No, not that! I want you,” I whispered into the damp skin of his neck. “I want us. But I have to know there is a chance. You couldn’t keep us more than casual before, and I want more. I’m ready for more. And I pray that I’m not reading this wrong. I see it in your eyes. You want me too. But you’re scared after how I bit your head off when you turned up a month ago at Columbia.”

“I’m not worthy of you yet, city slicker,” Marcus let the words out with a growl. “And now you know how fucked up I am, I don’t think I’m ever going to be enough.”

That caught my attention. I searched his face to discover the truth of his words. Why in God’s name did he think he wasn’t worthy of me? “You went off to war to…” but I couldn’t finish the thought.

Marcus shrugged. “I let you go. I couldn’t keep a pretty thing like you tied to a promise that I wasn’t in a position to fill.” A soft smile played at the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward, and I could feel his warm breath tickling my face. “This is my second chance, right here and right now. I’m doing everything I can to not fuck this up, city slicker.” But then the smile slipped from his face, and his body tensed before he asked, “Did you think I wasn’t affected by you?”

“I should have asked you to stay.” I just shook my head and dropped my gaze to where his hand was wrapped around mine. It was easier than looking into those soulful, lapis lazuli eyes.

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