Page 21 of Serve ’N’ Protect

Using his foot, Markus righted the jug, leaving it on the floor where it landed. He hung the towel on a hook, then turned the tub’s hot water tap to full open. It would be at least a week until his new stitches were ready to be removed and he could take a shower. For the moment, wiping off with a wet cloth would have to suffice.

Water pounded into the enormous tub, sounding like a jet engine firing up. While he waited for the water to heat, he stripped off his jeans and underwear, hanging them on another hook. He turned back to the closet to look for a cloth when a noise came from the bedroom.

He grabbed his gun, unholstering and aiming the weapon at the bathroom door. Whoever had made that noise, it wasn’t Ghost.

His heart beat faster as the knob turned. The door whipped open, and Cassidy came stumbling in, gasping for air. Her eyes went wide as she stared down the barrel of his gun.

“Shit.” He grabbed the empty holster and shoved his gun inside. “What are you doing here?” The water pounding into the tub must have been so loud he hadn’t heard her coming up the stairs or into the bedroom. And how the hell had she gotten in?

I know the alarm code and still have the spare key. Vaguely, he remembered her saying that last night right before he’d fallen asleep.

“Oh God.” She slapped a hand to her chest, then her gaze dipped and she clapped the same hand over her eyes. The parts of her face that weren’t covered by her hand turned beet-red. “I’m so sorry. I heard something loud and thought you’d fallen, so I ran upstairs to see if you were hurt. I didn’t realize… I didn’t know…” Her chest still heaved, and she leaned heavily on her cane, her knuckles white. She must have hauled ass up the stairs, and now she was clearly in pain.

“I’m fine.” Markus shut off the water. “You look like you need to sit down.” He guided her to the toilet seat and urged her to sit. Her hand remained firmly clamped over her eyes. Markus didn’t consider himself an exhibitionist by any stretch, but he wasn’t as concerned as most people about getting caught bare-assed. “You okay?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.”

Ghost padded into the bathroom. Using his teeth, he tugged the towel off the hook and brought it to Markus. “Thanks.” He tied it securely around his waist. “You can open your eyes now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He bit back a smile. If it weren’t for the pain they were both in, this would be pretty damn comical.

Instead of dropping her hand from her face, she spread two fingers, creating a slit just big enough for her to see through. Her hand slid from her face as she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a man naked before.” With her pretty, All-American, girl-next-door looks, there was no way she’d been single her entire life. Come to think of it, something about a guy named Hugh popped into his head.

“Of course I have. I’ve just never seen you naked before.”

“If you’ve seen one man naked, you’ve basically seen us all naked. What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” She squeezed her eyes shut, hissing in a breath as she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean… I just meant… Ooh, I give up. I’m going downstairs to finish making breakfast.” Cassidy and her cane stormed from the bathroom.

“Thanks for checking on me,” he called after her.

Without turning around she shot back, “Just doing my job.”

Ghost uttered a snort then trotted out and followed Cassidy from the room.

He turned the water in the tub back on then went to the mirror to check on his five o’clock shadow. For a second, he didn’t fully grasp the look on his face. In less than twenty-four hours of knowing him, Cassidy Morgan had managed to accomplish something most people never did.

She’d made him smile.

In fact, he was grinning like an idiot. Growing up, there’d been few things to laugh and joke about. His dad had made sure of that.

Markus stripped off the towel and sat on the edge of the tub. Dad. A word he hadn’t used since he was six years old. He’d lied when he’d told Cassidy his father was dead, but he was dead. To Markus, anyway. The day after they’d buried his mother, Dad had shown his true colors and stopped being anything remotely resembling a parent. He was never there for them. Hell, the man was barely at home at all, and when he was, Markus and his sister, Kelly, never seemed to do anything right.

You’re both the biggest mistakes I ever made.

Words he said to them in private. To the outside world, Steven York was the consummate father, a grieving widower with two picture-perfect children, one the head cheerleader and aces with her studies and the other an athletic dynamo, excelling in football, baseball, track, and any other sport he had played. Little did the world know Markus and Kelly were in a living hell. It seemed like a natural progression that they began referring to their father by his given name. Steven. Because he’d never once been an actual father to them.

He grabbed the cloth, wetting it in the warm water then holding it over his face. The last time he’d seen Steven was a year ago. Kelly had convinced him he should go before it was too late. Steven had cancer. Against his better judgment, Markus had returned home. It had been a mistake.

Markus rewet the cloth, rubbing it over the back of his neck and down his chest. Before that day, it had been fourteen years since their paths had crossed, and that had been the day Markus left home to enlist in the marines. He now understood why he’d really gone home to visit Steven last year. Stupidly, he still wanted—needed—Steven’s approval and respect, none of which he’d gotten. The only thing his father ever valued was himself. The man was a pathological narcissist.

When Markus told Steven about his career in the marines and the Secret Service, his father berated him, reiterating what a disappointment Markus was as a son and a man. Without realizing it at the time, Markus had affronted Steven’s grandiose sense of self-importance, his need to be the best and the center of everyone’s attention. As a corporate executive, he had the power and prestige to fire anyone who didn’t stoke his ego. Hearing that his only son protected the President of the United States threw Steven into a fit of rage because no one ever one-upped Steven York.

Markus cranked off the water and threw the wet cloth into the tub. The man was completely devoid of love and empathy. Any expressions of feelings or emotions by Markus or his sister were met with angry shouting and, in Markus’s case, violence.