Page 41 of A SEAL's Protection
My fingers slide to his head, and I run my hands through his hair, the way my mother used to when I was a little girl. I kiss the top of his head as my fingers trail over his temples.
“That’s nice,” he murmurs.
Hs shoulder spasms, and he shudders. “Tell me something nice. Your voice is soothing.”
My fingers continue trailing through his hair. “When I was a girl, we used to go camping before my mother passed.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcus murmurs.
There’s a dull ache whenever I talk about my mother, but I focus on Marcus and the story. “We came here to these mountains. The campsite was basic, only a pit toilet and cold water. This wasbefore Dad’s company skyrocketed. It was fall, and there weren’t many other campers around.”
My fingers trace a smooth circuit up his temples and over his forehead, a steady rhythm as I speak.
“One morning, I was playing cards with Dad while Mom heated water for breakfast. She hissed at us, and we looked up. A deer was standing there peering at us. It had come right into the campsite and it was a few feet away, just staring at us.”
Marcus’s arm spasms again, and I keep up my steady movements.
“Dad put his cards down, and we all watched the deer. It stared at me and I stared back; I looked right into its eyes. It can’t have been longer than a few seconds, but it felt like eternity. Then it sniffed the air and moved away into the undergrowth.
“I spent hours looking for the deer whenever we were back at camp, but I never found it again. A year later, my mom was dead. She had an aggressive cancer.”
I swallow hard, not sure why I’ve chosen this moment to open up to Marcus. But the words spill out.
“I kept thinking about that deer. And the look that passed between us. I couldn’t save Mom, but I could save that deer. It’s why I got into environmental science. To protect those that can’t protect themselves.”
Marcus is silent, and his arm isn’t twitching anymore.
“We’re not so different after all.”
“Maybe not.”
He shifts his head to look up at me. “The muscles have relaxed. Now you need to tug on my arm until the shoulder pops back into place.”
I brace against the boulder and take his arm in my hands and pull it gently.
Marcus hisses in through his teeth, and I let go.
“You need to be firmer,” he grits out. “Be rough.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It has to hurt so it can heal.”
I take his arm again and ignore the hissing sound that Marcus makes. I hold it firmly in my hands and pull.
There’s a popping sound as the bone slides into the socket. Marcus grunts through gritted teeth. Even now he’s an elite soldier, making minimal noise.
“Is it okay?” I stand up, and Marcus pulls himself off the boulder. He rotates his arm slowly, wincing.
“That’s better. It’s a relief.”
He sits for a moment, and the color returns to his face. “Thank you.”
I take a step back, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.
For a moment it felt like just the two of us, but there’s a man lying here with a bullet wound.
The enormity of the last hour kicks in as the adrenaline leaves my body.
