Vivian Arend - High Risk

“So we can’t complete this challenge on our own?” Tripp asked.

Becki shrugged. “Maybe you could, but as a team maybe goes all the way up to yes. And if that’s the difference between saving someone’s life or not, which is more important? Getting to crow as an individual, or sharing the celebration among the team?”

She moved to face them all, her back toward the climbing wall. “I’m going to make some wild assumptions right now, but I doubt I’m wrong. When you heard that Marcus had asked me to come train you, I bet what instantly came to mind were things like Devon mentioned that night at the pub. Becki James’s reputation as a climber extraordinaire. My solo records here at the school, my famous single-handed rescue last year. Am I wrong?”

Tripp shook his head. “Can you blame us?”

“Not for it being the first thing you thought of, but I’ll be damned if it should have been the last thing you focused on.” Becki planted her fists on her hips. “This isn’t school boot camp. You’re not trying to win a job placement; you have one. You’re no longer six individuals, but a team. Every single training exercise should be done with that in mind, even if your instructors fail to emphasize the fact.

“Don’t try to be me. I got lucky. You guys are the ones who got attention for your joint skills, your teamwork. You’re all incredible individuals, but as Lifeline, you’re a whole lot more. Don’t forget that. You fought for that honor. You deserve that honor. Now don’t let yourselves slack off—don’t let your teammates take the easy way out—fight to keep making the team stronger.”

Alisha’s chin had lifted. Devon grinned. Someone clapped and the entire team joined in, the staccato sound echoing off the walls and ringing in his ears. Becki’s cheeks flushed red, but she smiled.

Marcus wanted to give her more than a standing ovation.

“Go on.” Becki waved them off. “You’re done, at least with me. Check your schedule for the rest of the day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marcus waited until the gym was empty, the gear put away as the crew left one by one. “I’m still applauding. That was damn impressive.”

Becki blew a sigh of relief. “That . . . is reassuring. I’m a little lost right now, feeling my way, and I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Training my team?”

“That, and the teaching gig in a month for David. Just—starting a new life in a way.” She laughed, bitterness in the sound. “A new life because there’s still so damn many holes in the old one, I can’t walk forward without falling out the bottom.”

“Hey.” Marcus caught her by the arm. “You go on and listen to your own lecture. You don’t have to do this alone. I said I’d help you. The team will help you.”

She paused. Nodded. “You’re right. You’re right, and I said I was going to face the future and move on. Damn yo-yo emotions.”

“Girl stuff. Can’t help you there.”

Another laugh escaped her. “Don’t be an ass.”

“What?” He slapped her on the shoulder lightly, guiding her toward the offices. “In the interest of teamwork, I have a suggestion. We talked yesterday about the schedule for training Lifeline. How about we do the same for our training sessions, so you have that in place?”

Becki looked him over with a wide-eyed wonder, as if she were surprised he hadn’t also spouted off some sexual innuendo, as he’d done at every other opportunity up to now.

“If you’re serious, that would be wonderful. Occasionally doing things last minute is fun, but I like being organized. Thank you.”

He ignored the sexual side of the equation for a moment. Taking advantage of the attraction between them seemed a very . . . selfish . . . thing. After her sermon on the matter, perhaps focusing on the teamwork they needed was the right thing to do.

At least for now. He still planned on getting them back into bed. On trapping all her wild energy and excitement, and soaking in it. But not today.

Agendas didn’t have to be abandoned. Sometimes they could simply be delayed.

The phone rang.

Marcus ignored it.

His cell phone rang, and he let it go to messages.

The curtains were drawn, the room was dark, and he wanted to crawl under something and hide.

The fact that he had heard the ring was probably a good sign. Only probably, because along with awareness of the pain came the realization that while it was dark in the room, there was light sneaking around the edges of the curtains. Daytime—no interior lights on—and together that could only mean one thing.

His ghosts had taken over. Now the question was, how long had he been gone this time?

The landline rang again. He reached over the edge of the couch to the side table, picked up the receiver, thumbed the mute button, and slammed the phone back on the table.

The pounding in his head was nothing new. He dimly remembered that searing pain in his left hand had woken him in the middle of the night—and wasn’t that just fucking great? That something that wasn’t even there anymore could still hurt that damn much.

Marcus grabbed a drink from the fridge and dropped back onto the couch, stared at the shadows on the walls, and waited for the darkness inside to go away.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. Minutes? Hours?

The front door opened.

He moved instinctively. The crash of the bottle hitting the door frame sang out the same moment his brother swore.

“Shit, stop. It’s me. David. What the hell?”

God. He didn’t want to explain ever again. Didn’t want to talk. Marcus grabbed the arm of the couch and held on for dear life. “Get out.”

David was already stooping to pick up the broken glass from the floor. “No can do. You’ve been MIA for three full days. According to our agreement, I’m allowed to come kick your butt at this point.”

Shit. Three days meant Thursday. Still, he wasn’t ready to move. “I can throw something else at you if you want. I’m changing the goddamn rules. Get out. Now.”

David laughed, the glass echoing as it hit the sides of the metal garbage can, sending shards of pain through Marcus’s temples. “Nice try. I’m not listening.”

He came and sat on the coffee table directly in front of Marcus.

Marcus’s jaw ached from grinding his teeth. He glared at David, hoping his expression alone would be enough to persuade his brother to turn and walk away.

David raised a brow. “Interesting. Does the caveman-slash-madman look work well on women?”

“Fuck. You.” Marcus dragged his hand through his hair, then changed his mind, pointing at the door instead. “I’m not ready for an intervention. Tomorrow.”

David’s cocky smile faded, replaced with sympathy. “Look, normally I’d leave you alone. I understand you have . . . issues. But this time is different. No extensions. Deal with it.”

“Dammit, David.”

“She’s threatening to come over here.”

Marcus stopped cold. “Who?”

“Becki. When you didn’t show up at training a couple days back, I covered for you. Hoped you’d be out of your funk quicker than usual. This time you have to choose to drag yourself back to the real world, bro. Once I assured her you weren’t deathly sick or something, she got royally pissed. She’s ready to kick my ass, your ass. Hell, she’s been kicking your team’s ass—you might want to consider pulling yourself together for their sake.”

“What the hell has she been doing with the team?” He slid forward in his seat.

David hesitated, then spat it out. “She’s kind of taken them over. You had all the rest of their training organized, but when you didn’t show up, she stepped in and has been running the show. She thinks you jammed out on her. Something about missing training plans, and ignorant assholes . . . and there was more, but I was trying to keep far enough away from her that she couldn’t hit me, so I might have missed a few of the more choice swear words.”

Marcus laughed before he realized what he was doing. Her actions were twisted enough to break through the pain. Only Becki.

David nodded. “I thought that might get your attention. Come on. I get it that you need time, but grab a shower. I’ll make you some food. You need to get moving or don’t blame me when Genghis Khan shows up here to haul you out to the training centre.”

The idea of anyone calling sweet Becki terrible names was funny as shit. “In spite of the fact I still feel like crap, fine. I’ll be there.”

His brother stood and pulled him off the couch, shoving him toward the back of the house. “Shower. You’re currently the nearest thing Canada’s got to a nuclear meltdown situation.”

“Get the fuck out. I can wash my own ass.” Marcus paused in the doorway to his bedroom to confirm that his brother hadn’t followed him or did something stupid. Fortunately, David had headed to the kitchen and was ignoring him. “You’re a bloody pain, you know that?”

“Dickhead,” David shouted back easily. “God, what died in your fridge?”

Marcus retreated to the shower. His head still throbbed, but his curiosity was high enough to drag himself out of the house. After he’d shoveled in whatever David managed to drop before him.

He hadn’t tasted a thing, too intent on discovering what kind of punishment he would have to take for disappearing without an explanation. Because he had a feeling Becki hadn’t liked it one bit.

There was no sign of anyone in the gym, even though he recognized the cars in the parking lot. Marcus checked the pool, the weight room, the boardroom. No one. Frustrated, he pulled out his phone and called her.