High Risk (11 page)

Now his team thought he was a raving lunatic. Awesome.

Marcus rubbed his temples, looking for some sort of miracle to give him enough strength
to get through the next hour without throttling Becki. He went to where he’d dropped
his gym bag, grabbed his prosthesis, and shoved it on, gritting his teeth at the sensation
of the sleeve squeezing his stump. Doing up straps distracted him for long enough
to realize she was taking a bloody long time getting ready.

He pushed open the change room door. “You coming out this century?”

No answer.

If she’d decided to blow him off and take a shower, he had no objections to taking
his hand to her bare ass. He threw open the door and entered, looking around for where
she’d hidden. Not in the change area. Not in the showers.

He felt like an idiot bending over in the bathroom to see if he could spot her feet
in one of the toilet stalls. “Becki? You okay?”

The teeny wisp of concern that had started to weave its way into his anger evaporated
as he noticed something by the open change room window blowing in the wind.

She’d left him a goddamned note taped to the wall.

Training today starts with a run. If you’re not too hungover/lazy/whatever the hell
happened to you, run the Tunnel Mountain trail. Otherwise, call me tonight if you
still want me to train your team.

Becki

Frustration still boiled. Pain hovered. But . . .

Marcus closed the window and bolted it. Then he went and exchanged his prosthesis
for his running shoes.

CHAPTER
11

Running took away the anger. It was difficult to hold on to fury when every ounce
of focus was directed toward gasping for air and moving one leg after another. Smacking
her feet into the ground was incredibly gratifying even though she knew she’d regret
it later, her overenthusiastic clomps burning up energy she’d crave on the downward
journey.

The trail zigzagged again and she turned the corner, lactic acid scorching her thighs
as she pumped out another sprint of a dozen steps.

Marcus had the gall to show up after vanishing for three days, then give
her
shit for her training methods?

Screw him.

Okay, maybe she hadn’t gotten rid of all her frustrations yet, but after three days
she’d built up a fine head of steam, and it was going to take a bit to let this go.

The climb was steep enough that she could push thinking out of her head. Concentrate
on the trail. On the blood pumping through her veins. In her ears, a rhythm pulsated—her
feet like drumbeats, her pulse a living accompaniment. Each intake of breath timed
to settle between the thumps.

When she reached the first lookout she slowed to a walk, sucking in air and pacing
slowly to settle her breathing. She wondered if Marcus would come after her.

She wondered if she’d be able to resist kicking him if he did.

Becki grabbed onto the railing and stretched, looking over the valley. The pine forests
of the foothills created a carpet of green to contrast with the gray and black of
the towering Rockies, snow still clinging to their peaks. The thin line of the Bow
River cut through the distance, a sliver of shining silver winding back and forth
like a ribbon. She couldn’t see the falls or the main parts of the town site. Far
enough up and far enough away to feel as if she were alone in the bush.

The wilderness closing in around her.

A shiver of fear whispered over her skin that annoyed her far more than Marcus’s desertion
over the past days.

She was not going to be defeated. And if Marcus couldn’t be trusted to come through
and help her train, she’d find someone who could. Climbing had been such an important
part of her life—yeah, she’d told Marcus she was trying to find new ways to be happy,
but that was partly a lie.

She wanted to do new things, but she didn’t want to give up the old. Having everything
she was renowned for torn from her grasp hurt. Everything that had meant something
in her life—her position, her future . . .

Dane.

Another flash of pain struck her, and she actually hissed, twisting away from the
railing and preparing to run the next section of trail. Ready to run to escape the
hurt.

Marcus crested the hill and slowed to a walk, approaching cautiously. His gaze fixed
on her, his face blank.

At least he didn’t look ready to commit murder anymore, as he had in the change room.

She stood her ground as she waited for him. He came all the way to a stop directly
in front of her. Her arms crossed involuntarily. A barrier between them less formidable
than their recent emotional confrontation.

Marcus looked her over, his chest moving heavily as he caught his breath. He’d left
the prosthesis off, his long-sleeved shirt dampened with sweat in spite of the cooler
temperatures. His hair had gone wild from the wind, or more probably from him dragging
his hand through it as she’d seen him do a number of times.

There were dark shadows under his eyes, a thick layer of scruff on his chin and upper
lip, and no matter how upset she was, she couldn’t help wonder what really had happened
over the past days. David had been noncommittal other than giving assurances that
Marcus was fine.

“You climbed out the window,” Marcus noted blandly.

“You were being a jerk,” she rejoined.

He snorted. “Yah, well, there’s nothing new in that. Not sure why you were surprised.”

“Because it was new,” she snapped, her concern flickering and ready to die away. “That’s
not the man I signed up to spend time with. So if there’s a change in situation, let
me know.”

She planned to turn, to hit the trail, when he caught her arm. “Becki. I’m sorry.”

Becki wavered. Part of her didn’t want to be generous and listen. “If I call
bullshit
right now, I suppose I’m not being very forgiving. But you want to tell me a little
more specifically what you’re sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have shouted at you,” he admitted. “I’m still mad, and we need to talk,
because I get you’re upset as well. But I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

She nodded slowly, fighting to resist sharing the internal dry commentary that noted
the shouting was the least offensive part of the entire situation. Still, he was a
man. That “sorry” would have cost him. She caved a little—the only area she was willing
to accept he had a smidgen of a right to bitch about. “I wasn’t being careless with
your team’s safety. I clearly went over the parameters of how and where they were
allowed to move. And climbing a building is illegal only if you do it without permission.”

His lips twitched. “Or if it’s a world heritage site.”

“You’re never going to let me forget that incident, are you?”

His gaze heated, the staid, controlled man melting away as if memories of their nights
of passion snapped to his mind as quickly as they did to hers.

Good grief. Maybe she should haul him back to her dorm room and get this out between
them. The urge to strip naked was as bad as it had been seven years earlier, a pile
of kindling ready to burst into an inferno.

Then thoughts of what she’d lost intruded, and the far more bitter memories of fear
and terror wiped away all sexual lusts.

Dane was dead. Her memory was gone—except for the haunting dreams that had begun the
night after she’d frozen on the wall. Nightmares that made her want to start running
again and not stop until she was exhausted.

“Why are you looking like that?” Marcus asked, his fingers soft on her shoulder. “Becki?
Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, focusing on the ridge of clouds sneaking over the mountain
range. The answer to that question was far too big a topic to break open on the side
of a trail. “We should finish our workout before the weather changes.”

He withdrew his touch, staring at her silently. Becki twisted away under the guise
of stretching to avoid having to meet his too-perceptive gaze any longer.

At least they weren’t ready to strangle each other anymore.

“Come on.” Becki tilted her head toward the trail. “Let’s burn off the rest of the
gunk in our brains.”

Without a word, Marcus joined her.

Sharing the hard physical pain of a demanding workout was far easier than sharing
the emotional turmoil inside.

* * *

He knew he should say something. Explain where he’d been, why he’d blown off training
the past three days, but by the end of the run he was hurting so badly he could barely
think. The entire time-delayed backlash from his episode hit at once, and he stumbled
into the gym after Becki, all his concentration on putting one foot in front of the
other.

Stars floated in front of his eyes as he lurched for the mats, hoping to get to them
before he collapsed on the hard wooden flooring.

A cool cloth pressed against his face. Something rigid into his palm.

“Marcus. Drink.” Becki’s voice prodded him. She didn’t sound pissed anymore. That
was good. He didn’t want her pissed at him.

The cool water slipped down his throat, easing the pain. Loosening the numbness until
he could blink and glance around the room.

Becki squatted beside him, one hand resting on his shoulder. “You with me?”

Damn. “We taking turns blacking out now?”

“I don’t think you went anywhere, but you were a touch dazed.” She squeezed her fingers.
“Now I’m the one who needs to apologize. I exploded like a crazy woman and assumed
you blew off training for no good reason. That was wrong of me.”

He struggled to get the words out. He’d held them for so long it was difficult to
actually come out and let someone other than David know. And why the urgent need to
say anything now, to Becki, drove him, he wasn’t sure.

But he
had
to say something. “I have these . . . episodes every now and then. No warning, no
idea how long they will last. They’re getting less frequent, though. That much is
good.”

Her eyes widened. “Damn.”

Marcus shrugged. He took another few swallows before he cleared his throat. “So much
for my superpowers.”

She settled back, stretching her legs in front of her. “Yeah, well. Looks like neither
of us is quite who we used to be.”

He hadn’t been for a long, long time.

Marcus glanced over. There were shadows under her eyes and faint lines at the corners,
but the signs of her sheer enthusiasm were also unmistakable. Her hopes of getting
back into the world that had been torn from her. He couldn’t destroy that hope. Even
though he’d discovered for himself there were some things you never recovered from,
that didn’t mean
she
never could. And as long as there was hope, he would goddamn not let himself become
a barrier to her dreams.

He deliberately pushed aside his personal frustrations and reached out with every
bit of acting skill he had. “You’ll get there. We’ll train you. Get you back into
the swing of it. You’re good, Becki. Good with the team.”
Good for me.
“Thanks for stepping in when I bailed.”

She nodded. “They were—something positive to focus on.”

“Were they tough days? Not just the filling-in-for-me part.”

She stared at the ceiling, biting her lip. When she turned to face him, the corners
of her mouth had turned down. “Nightmares. Since I froze on the wall, I haven’t been
sleeping very well.”

His skin crawled, but he kept his response to himself. “The accident?”

Becki sighed. “Yeah, but you don’t need me dumping on you.”

He caught her by the wrist when she stood. “It’s not dumping. Sounds as if you’ve
been dealing with fallout from the accident for a while, and maybe the whole wall
thing will finally let you move past it.”

“Still don’t need to take it out on you.”

“You want the name of a good shrink here in town?”

She pulled a face. “I’d prefer to dump on you.”

He laughed, then regretted it as his temples throbbed. “I hear you, but they can help.”
Not always, but again he kept his opinion to himself. His situation was not hers.

They were both standing now. Marcus forced his feet to remain steady.

Becki folded her arms around her body. “I’ll take you up on your offer if the nightmares
get worse. Maybe having mentioned them out loud will be enough to make them go away.
I’m going to shower, and you look like you need to crash as well. You going to be
okay?”

“I’m fine.”

If he hadn’t felt like a wet rope, he would have insisted on doing more for her. He
was a short time away from a crash. Still—“Becki?”

“Yeah?”

A spark of an idea flew, triggered by David’s conversation. “You interested in grabbing
some dinner tonight? Taste of Banff is happening in town. We can enjoy a few samples.
You can see how the restaurants have changed. A chance to talk—about whatever.”

It was an olive branch, the best he could manage with the anvil resting on his brain.

She smiled. “I’ve got to remember this trick. Shout at a guy, and get offered a dinner
date. Awesome.”

“You game?”

“After a nap.” She covered her mouth as she yawned, but he still caught it and the
two of them grinned sheepishly at each other when they were done. “Like I said, we’re
a matching set of zombies right now.”

“Just what Banff needs. The Zombie Apocalypse. Typical Thursday.” He grabbed his things.
“If you want to shower here, go ahead. Pull the gym door shut behind you when you
leave.”

Becki nodded. “What time shall I meet you?”

“Can you be ready by six?”

“No problem.”

They stared at each other for a minute, neither of them willing to leave. Neither
of them willing to make any further move forward, either.

Marcus twitched. “Zombie is right. I’ll catch you in a few.”

Walking away from her was tough, but the numbness needed to be answered before he
totally fell apart. Hopefully after a couple solid hours of sleep he’d be able to
figure out what was the next step. What he could do to help her avoid the trap he’d
fallen into.

If he could push her to the light, maybe it would make his darkness a little more
bearable.