Chapter 6
6
T heresa unpacked a few things. It was mostly her blouses and slacks, so they didn't wrinkle. Everything else she left in her suitcase and tucked it in the closet. She wasn't sure if she'd be here long. She may just need to leave right away. If the Celtics came for her, she'd leave before Marco got hurt. She should probably leave right now, before she lost access to her vehicle.
Her heart began beating rapidly. She was in a position right now to be stuck. No vehicle, no way to get away. She inhaled slowly and deeply to keep the panic at bay. She needed to think.
After a few deep breaths, she felt calmer. She glanced around the room. The designer had done a nice job. It definitely felt like a home and not a rental or temporary home. She understood Marco's desire to make this his home. She had been in the military a few years before getting out. Then she'd gotten her job at the paper back in Maine.
She huffed out a breath thinking about all she'd lost. She hadn't been in touch with her boss, or anyone from Maine. She didn't have family anymore. Her parents were gone, and she was an only child. No one to leave behind. Except for the life she knew, the friends she had, and a well-paying job she enjoyed. In essence, everything she had. Her head throbbed and she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
After she'd calmed, she swallowed the sadness that clogged her throat. She shook her head sternly to remove the melancholy and for feeling sorry for herself. "Get your head on straight, Theresa," she chided herself.
She stood and gathered up her shampoo, conditioner, blow dryer, and styling products and placed them where she wanted them in the cabinets and shower.
It was a nice bathroom. Muted colors of tans and browns and coppers. It felt warm and homey. She sniffed at the thought of not having a home. Even in Maine, she'd only had an apartment. There hadn't been time to lay down roots.
She stepped from the bathroom and made her way to the living room where Marco sat perched on the edge of the sofa, his phone to his ear, and he was making notes in a notebook on the coffee table. She waited quietly as he finished his conversation. He glanced at her a couple of times and nodded. Each time her tummy tingled. He was a handsome man. Strong, confident, and sure of himself. He was her kryptonite. Everything she loved in a man. Everything.
His deep rich voice filled the air as he spoke. "Thanks, Mitch. I'll let her know."
He tapped his phone and set it on the coffee table next to his notebook. When he looked at her, she couldn't look away from him. His deep brown eyes were magnetic. She saw fine lines at the corners that she'd never noticed before. On him, they looked sexy. It made him more worldly to her. As if he'd had life experiences, which she knew he had. He'd been a SEAL in the past. Did they still consider themselves SEALs when they were out? Marines did. Once a Marine, always a Marine. She'd heard it over and over on base.
Marco smiled. "Mitch will be here in fifteen minutes to take your car. If you give me your keys and also the key to your apartment, he'll go over and replace the window to secure the place, so you don't get in trouble with your landlord. He’ll also take a look around. I asked him to set up some cameras and put a couple of timers on the lamps, so it looks like you're there. We'll watch and see if someone comes back."
She swallowed. "Okay."
She hesitated though. Her lips quivered slightly and she immediately became irritated with herself for feeling weak and vulnerable. He cocked his head slightly but didn't say anything. He was apparently willing to wait her out. She’d noticed that about him.
She filled her lungs, "I don't like being this vulnerable."
His lips pursed briefly. Even that was sexy.
"I understand."
"I don't think you do. I can't imagine you've ever been vulnerable."
He chuckled. "You have no idea. I've had to go into situations where I didn't know if I'd come out alive. I trusted my brothers-in-arms. I trusted every single one of them. But the enemy can be unpredictable, and shit can happen. I've been more vulnerable than you can ever believe."
She swallowed. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself. I knew the chance of them finding me was possible, but I let myself believe it was safe here."
"The best way to not feel vulnerable is to set yourself up for the win. Have everything in place to defend yourself and keep yourself safe to the best of your ability. That's what we're doing for you."
She nodded slowly, then moved to the bedroom and pulled her keys from her purse. She pulled the Sandbar keys from her keyring and handed the rest to Marco. "The key fob works for the car." She pointed to three keys. "This is for the glove box, this is for the doors if you don't have the fob, and this is my apartment key."
"Got it. If you're ready, I'll show you where everything is in the kitchen. You should feel free to make yourself at home."
She swallowed to wet her throat. This felt so weird. Her head spun from all that was happening. She hadn't even gotten sufficiently scared, other than to pack some things and start to leave. In her mind, that was more a resolute circumstance, than fear. She'd always told herself when they found her, she'd move on. It seemed natural.
"I don't think I'll stay long Marco. If they find me..."
"I'll be here to protect you."
"It's not your job to protect me."
"It is now."
"Why?"
He stood and moved close to her. She tilted her head up to look into his eyes, he bent his head down to meet her gaze.
"I've already told you. It's natural for me to protect. And I like you, so it adds a bit more to it for me."
"You can't like me enough to put your life at risk."
"I did it for millions of Americans I've never met when I was in the military. And over the past six months, I've gotten to know you a bit better than most. So, yes, I do know you enough to put my life at risk to protect you. And I think you're worth protecting."
Her nose tingled, signaling the threat of tears. A knock on the door made her jump. Marco put his hand on her shoulder and said softly, "It's okay. It's Mitch."
"How do you know?"
"Knock, space, knock, knock."
His hand on her shoulder was more comforting than she wanted to admit. He made her feel things. Sometimes her tummy felt like there were thousands of butterflies trying to get out. Sometimes she felt...comfortable. Sometimes she felt admiration for such a man. Right now, she felt grateful in so many ways. But she was also afraid. She could never repay him if he got hurt.