Marcus offered a soft reassuring smile, not fazedby my discomfort in the least. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said. “How about a shower?”
Anxiety surged in my chest again. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’ll sit right here.”
I searched his eyes, needing to believe him but still wavering. “Promise?”
What am I? Five?
Marcus leaned in closer, his voice unwavering. “Of course.”
My cheeks flushed hotter. “Can I leave the bathroom door open? Can I—can I talk to you while I shower?” I cringed at my vulnerability, feeling pathetic but unable to let go of the lifeline.
Marcus nodded. “Sure.”
He didn’t pause when I brushed my teeth and stepped out in a towel, continuing his story. Even as he handed me a fresh set of sweatpants and a T-shirt, he kept talking, turning his back as I dressed, never breaking the comforting rhythm of his words.
“… so, then the damn kitten pooped in my freaking shoe.” He chuckled, and it made me feel warm.
“Thank you,” I said when he’d finished the story.
He turned to face me. “Do you want to talk?”
“I had a nightmare, is all… can I…” I reached for his hand again, and he let me hold it. Then, he tugged me to the bed, and I gestured for him to sit with me. “I just need to touch.”
“Of course.”
He half turned to look at me, and I traced patterns on the back of his hand, comforted by the familiar warmth. “It was about Pax and that day… and you…”
“Me?” he queried, and I sighed.
“You walked into the fire.”
He tightened his grip, and we were silent for a while.
Then he knocked shoulders with me. “Do you want to tell me who Pax is?”
“Paxton Hunter—Pax for short.” I swallowed hard, emotion thickening my voice. “We met during basic training. Pax was my best friend—more like a brother than anything else. He didn’t have the best family life, so he came home with me during leave and met my sister, Jess.” A faint, bittersweet smile curved my lips. “They fell in love and I was so fucking happy that my sister and my best friend… fuck…” My voice faltered. “He died,” I whispered, my breath caught. “In the explosion. He died, and I didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” Marcus murmured.
I was crying again, great all-consuming sobs, and I leaned into him. He supported the weight of me and my fucked-up thoughts.
“I miss Jessica. I miss Mom and Dad, fuck. I miss Pax and the team, and I’m the only one left.”
“It’s okay to grieve for your team and to want your family,” Marcus said. His voice was full of understanding, and I realized with a jolt that I must have voiced my thoughts out loud, raw and exposed. Marcus’s gaze was unwavering, calm, and supportive, holding me steady in this vulnerable moment. “How about we reach out to your parents and Jessica? Let them know you’re safe, at least.”
Anxiety surged in my chest, tangling with shame and grief in a chaotic storm. “They don’t want… I don’t want… I can’t…” My voice broke.
Marcus nodded, compassion evident in his eyes. “Okay,” he soothed, never pressing, never judging. “We can shelve that for now. You’re exhausted. How about you try to get some sleep? I’ll stay right here with you, okay?”
I drew a shaky breath, trying to trust his promise. I met his eyes again, finding nothing but sincerity and care. “You’ll stay?” I whispered.
Marcus smiled. “I promise. I’ll be right there.”He pointed at the chair, and suddenly, I didn’t want himthere; I wanted him where I could touch him. Was that right? Was that okay?
“We couldbothsleep,” I suggested, my voice hesitant but hopeful.
Marcus paused, considering me. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out an alarm on a chain, and slipped it over his neck. “I’m on call…”
