Page 26 of Serve ’N’ Protect

She moved on to the treadmill that looked, as Markus had said, top of the line. John had spared no expense. “What exactly did you have in mind for me?”

Markus lowered to one of several padded benches. “To start with, a regular regimen of stretching and deep tissue massage. After that, a few minutes every day on the bike, the treadmill. Even walking outside would help. Eventually, we’ll get to the weights and machines and get some meat back on your legs.”

It all sounded good, but… “What makes you think you can accomplish what a trained physical therapist couldn’t?”

Markus didn’t hesitate. “Determination, research, and lots of semper fi.”

Cassidy laughed softly. “I figured you were in the marines with John.” She dipped her gaze to the insignia on his sweatshirt, and he nodded. “How long were you in?”

“Eight years, two tours.”

“After that?” she asked, finding herself wanting to know more about him. Other than the fact that someone was still trying to murder him, she knew next to nothing about the man.

“After that, I got picked up by the Secret Service and got into the K-9 unit.” He stroked his big hand along Ghost’s back.

He certainly loved his dog, and Ghost adored him right back. The two of them seemed like a perfect team. “What did you mean when you said ‘determination, research, and lots of semper fi’?”

“Determination, as in, I won’t give up on you the way your therapist obviously did. Otherwise, you’d still be making progress instead of flatlining. Research, as in, your therapist didn’t do any. Seems to me that whoever you were working with didn’t dig deep enough into the physiology behind your injuries to know what the hell they were doing. If they don’t know what they’re dealing with, there’s no way they can instruct you on what to do to help yourself.”

Okay, so he’d astutely touched on the very things she’d been wondering about herself. “And the semper fi part?”

“Semper fidelis means ‘always faithful.’ The phrase symbolizes the lifelong commitment by every marine to the Corps. When I make a commitment to help you, I won’t stop until I’ve done just that. I’ll help you to identify your goals and reach those goals. If you want to walk without a limp, you will. If you want to run, cycle, play volleyball again, with my help, you can do it. But not without determination of your own, and trust. You have to trust me.”

“Very philosophical. In other words, I have to put myself in your hands.” Hands that were, at the moment, stroking his dog’s back with motions she could only describe as reverent, tender, and loving.

His dark gaze didn’t leave hers, and she didn’t doubt that he meant every word. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but it all sounded like pie in the sky, a miracle that would never happen. But he was right. If she didn’t try again, it would never happen. And she didn’t want to waste any more time and effort with her therapist.

Correction. Her former therapist.

“You’re hired.” She was rewarded with that subtle lifting thing he did with his lips. As before, not a full smile by any stretch. One day, she’d get him to smile, fully, with teeth showing and everything. “When do we start?”

“Today.” He stood and headed for the stairs with Ghost on his heels. “Go home and change into workout clothes. Meet me back here, and bring your medical file so I can review it.”

As she followed slowly up the stairs behind him, renewed hope blossomed inside her. What if one day she really could climb the stairs without a cane and do things without the constant pain and discomfort she’d become accustomed to in nearly every facet of her life?

Even with his injury, she couldn’t keep up with Markus. He and Ghost waited patiently and courteously at the top of the stairs. Hugh never would have waited for her.

By the time she reached him, she was panting like a dog. He held out his hand and she took it, again feeling his warm, solid strength as he helped her take the last step into the hallway. She teetered, pressing her hand against his chest for balance.

“I’ve got you.” With his other hand, he steadied her at her waist.

Her stomach muscles quivered from the contact, a not unpleasant feeling. Not. At. All. During their trek from the house and into her bug, their bodies had touched so many times she’d lost count. This was on a whole other level.

The words deep tissue massage flashed in her mind. That meant she’d have to get used to having Markus’s hands on her body.

“Th-thanks.” A shiver of awareness crept up her spine, something she hadn’t experienced since—don’t say it, don’t even think his name again—Hugh. Dammit.

Outside, a car door slammed, followed by two more slamming shut.

Uttering a savage groan under his breath, Markus leaned down, grunting as he pulled up the cuff of his jeans and yanked a gun from a holster she hadn’t known he was wearing. A fierce, grim mask fell over his face. He gripped the gun in two hands, aiming the muzzle to the floor as he edged quickly to the door. The heady awareness she’d felt only moments ago was quickly replaced by a frosty chill.

This was Markus in full warrior mode.

Using the muzzle of the gun, he moved the sheer curtain aside to peer through the glass. Ghost now stood beside him, lowering his head and loosing a menacing growl from the back of his throat. The two of them were so in sync it was eerie.

Cassidy clumped closer, her heart pounding faster but no longer from her trek up the basement stairs. Whatever he was looking at was enough to make Markus’s eyes glow with a dangerous light and turn his expression to stone.

“What is it?” She rested her hand on his back, trying to look around his big body.