Page 36 of A SEAL's Protection
I ponder his question. Getting the grant was my sole focus for so long, I’ve almost forgotten my long-term dream.
“I’d like to have my own research facility.”
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and I glance at Marcus, waiting for some quip about how easily I can do that with Daddy’s money. It’s why I’ve never told anyone about it. I want to open a facility on my own merit. Because I’m a renowned research scientist who has important things to study, not because Daddy paid for it.
But Marcus doesn’t mention my obvious privilege. He’s silent, waiting for me to go on.
“There’s nothing like that in the mountain’s here and it’s such an important area. I want to support the mining community. There are ways to get what we need from the earth without damaging it. It just takes money and time. I’d love to have my own lab where I can facilitate greener mining practices.”
I let out a long huff. I’ve never spoken about my reasons either. Again, it’s easy to get labeled as a privileged environmentalistwho knows nothing about the mining industry and the thousands of jobs at stake. I don’t want to shut down any mining; I just want to help find ways to do less damage.
“I’ve no doubt you’ll get there.”
“You think so?” For some reason, Marcus’s opinion matters to me.
He gives a lopsided smile. “You’re stubborn as fuck. You’ll make it.”
I punch him playfully on the arm, and he clutches his bicep and staggers like I’ve wounded him. Then I remember it’s where he got injured.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”
He releases his arm and straightens up. “The cut’s on the other arm.”
My mouth drops open. “You shit.”
He chuckles. “You’re stubborn, but you punch like a wet fish. Do I have to teach you to punch as well as shoot?”
“If I was really punching you, you’d know about it.”
His mouth quirks up, but the smile doesn’t last long. He’s back to scanning our surroundings, always alert and never fully relaxed.
It feels like hours that we’re scrambling over boulders until we come out at a sharp ridge. Above us is a sheer cliff face with a rope hanging down it.
The cliff curves around on two sides. Below is a drop to more rocks, and behind us is the trail we’ve been following.
I stare up at the cliff face in dismay. My heart rate jolts up a beat, remembering the last time we climbed and I slipped.
Marcus turns to me and rests a hand on my shoulder. “You going to be okay?”
I swallow. “I have to be.”
“Good girl.”
He retrieves his harness from his pack and slips into it before tying my makeshift one. He crouches before me, and I’m aware of how close he is. His movements are precise and efficient, nothing like the intimate caresses of last night.
Marcus clips himself in and peers up at the rope.
“It goes up and then across.” He tugs hard on the rope, testing its weight. “It’s higher than the last time, but the rope is sturdy. There’s no fraying.”
He’s trying to reassure me, but I can tell by the way he rubs the back of his next that he’s tense.
He glances across the ravine to the tree line on the other side of the dried-up riverbed.
“We’ll move fast. Give it all your strength, and we’ll rest at the top.”
I nod, and he clips me onto the rope behind him and gives my harness a final tug.
Marcus springs up the cliff face, finding places to put his feet that look like flat rock from where I am. I find a handhold, grit my teeth together, and heave myself up.
