Page 12

PART VIIII

HEATHER

Heather walked into the venue with a smile on her face. She always loved performing for others, especially in a new venue. There was an air of anticipation, or rather, she felt it rolling off of herself in waves. [I feel like you should mention that she has her mask on covering her face. I keep picturing her without her mask on but I feel she should have it on at the venue at all times, right? I’ve read ahead to when they caught the stalker and she faces him and I question in my head if the stalker can see her face or not. Lol]

Mark looked at her, a soft, almost surreptitious smile on his face. "You look happy."

She reached out a hand and touched his arm marveling at the muscles she felt under his suitcoat. "You must have a great tailor." Her gaze touched on the other two walking in front of them, Badger and Gunny. "All of you."

Heather felt Mark's arm tense under her hand. "I'm not sure if I like you studying the fit of the suits on the rest of my team."

Her laughter bounced off of the walls of the stairway. "Isn't it a little odd to be this tightly wound when I'm the one with the crazy stalker? I think I should be the one tight as a bowstring."

Gunny slowed on the steps above her and turned around. "It might be odd, but it's fun for us."

He swung his gaze over to Mark and Heather felt her cheeks tighten when Mark lifted a hand and set it against her lower back.

"Keep your mind on the job, Gunny."

The other man smiled and nodded as he continued to climb the step. "Don't worry about us, Mars. We know what we're doing."

Heather didn't hear any defensiveness in his voice, but she had the feeling that Gunny was like that all the time, smiling.

It was probably built into him especially because of his sister.

She'd enjoyed hearing about Mary. Heather had always wanted a sibling, but she'd never had the chance. Always an only child like Tanner and Mark [or just Mark? Did you mean to have her think Tanner?]. It was lonely to a certain extent, but she'd spend the last few days with some of the men working for Big Sky Bodyguards and found herself thinking of them almost as brothers.

They'd all been easy to get to know and even easier to let inside the walls of her heart.

As they reached the landing and started the last little bit of the climb up to her dressing room, she sighed softly. Having Mark back in her life, discovering that he still felt something for her, had been like a release for her, a switch that had flipped.

Badger yanked the door open at the top of the steps and she smiled. She'd called it a switch, but it had been a rusty one. It had taken an effort and a bit of courage, or maybe it was just need that had driven her through the barriers she had up around herself.

"Hey."

Mark put his hand on the back of her neck, and she stopped to look at him.

"Hmm?"

"Hey," he repeated the word, softer this time, his fingers moving along the back of her neck, almost massaging away the tension, "you okay?"

She wanted to just blow off his question and opened her mouth to say so.

Mark pulled her in against him and lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "Hey, you forget," he touched his cheek against hers, "I know you better than that."

"Than what?"

Even as she said the words, she knew that he was right. She wasn't telling him the truth.

It was just so much easier when she'd been with WITSEC.

She gave them the answers they wanted, and they left her alone.

It wasn't the same with Mark.

Even though they'd been apart for years, once they'd reconnected, she'd found herself open to the possibilities of a life again. Open to feeling again.

No, not just open.

She'd let down all of her walls for him and now she was beginning to understand what it was she'd been missing and hoping for all of this time.

"There you go again, Heather. It's like you were somewhere far away."

She smiled at his words. "Far away? Like Scotland? Cause I could really do Scotland."

He smiled, too. "I could do Scotland," he sighed, "with you."

Heather smiled and leaned into his embrace.

"But that's not what I'm talking about. You were away... inside your head. What's going on?"

Caught.

That's what she was.

She'd been caught.

"I'm out of practice hiding my thoughts. I used to be better at it."

Mark turned them until her back was against the wall. "Don't take this the wrong way, honey, but I don't think you were ever that good about hiding it. I'm just guessing that people didn't pay enough attention to you."

Something akin to nerves crawled up the back of her neck. "That's not what happened-"

"I'm not saying anything about you... anything bad about you, Heather. I hope you know that, but you also have to know that I'm looking at you. I'm doing everything I can to get behind those walls of yours and under your skin."

"I... I know you mean well, but it's not about..." Her words drifted off because it was all about that. "I'm okay. I just hadn't thought about it in that way. I've been out of WITSEC for a bit, but even when I started to work with Bart, he left me alone to do my thing. Even Missus Fazekas leaves me alone. I'm not used to having someone inside the walls, Mark."

It felt like she'd just flayed open an old scar, a feeling that she understood all too well.

She'd opened herself up in front of him, almost more than she had when she'd let him inside of her body, but it felt right with Mark.

It felt like she was where she was supposed to be, but it was still weighing on her, this whole stalker business.

"I'm in, Heather." His voice was so soft that she knew that no one could hear them even in the large stairwell. "I'm going to be here, for you... with you for as long as you let me."

She lifted a hand and gripped the front of his shirt and felt him shiver as her fingertips brushed against his chest. "I want you with me, too. I'm just..."

He leaned in and kissed her, tipping her head back as he deepened the kiss.

"Ahem..."

Heather was slower coming back to earth than Mark was, but she held onto his shirt as he shook his head smiling.

"That'll be enough, Flash."

"Sorry, Ares, but we're in the stairwell and while no one's around here to make this all that dangerous. We have to get going."

Heather's cheeks were warm and flushed. "Yeah. I should get to my dressing room and start getting ready."

Mark leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sorry, babe. I'm going to get a hold of myself. I just... I love you."

The words were there, the feeling was, too. Heather was startled to hear him say them, but probably not as stunned as Mark was to say them.

“Safe to say you just took both of us by surprise.” She hadn't thought to hear the words, let alone say them herself. She'd been alone too long and thought that she would be for the rest of her life.

Having someone break through her barriers, just by walking through the door? She'd never expected-

"Gun!"

Heather flinched and brought her violin case up to her chest, hugging it tightly to her chest.

Sounds of a struggle were heard behind her as Mark hustled her up the stairs as one of the men in front of her brushed past on his way down to the landing behind them.

Heather tried to lift her head to look down, but they were moving too fast, and she had to keep her eyes on the steps.

If she fell, holding the violin to her chest, she didn't want to think about what harm she could cause.

The door was open, but before Mark pushed her through, she heard the most amazing thing.

"Neutralized!"

Swallowing, she turned, but Mark held her back. "You don't have to look at him."

Him.

She'd known it was a man.

Or at least that's what she'd thought after reading some of the letters that she'd been sent.

Oh, Bart had tried to hide it from her, but she had had her fill of things being hidden from her and she found a way to read a few of the notes before they were passed on to security.

And with the addition of a bodyguard and then a few more, she knew that there was something really wrong.

"I need to, Mark."

He tightened the grip on her arm and tried to keep her from turning around.

So she turned and looked at him.

She saw something in his eyes that almost changed her mind.

It certainly shocked her.

She'd just been basking in the glory of his emotional declaration to her. That he loved her.

That had lifted her spirits and made her heart swell in her chest.

But the look in his eyes, squeezed her heart just as tight.

She saw worry, sure. He cared about what he did, but she also saw pain and panic. She saw a kind of desperation that she imagined she'd held in her eyes when she'd first been told that she'd never see him again.

"Mark."

He swallowed and she tracked the movement of his Adam's apple when it moved.

"Please, let me see him." He hesitated and she understood. He was trying to protect her, like he would have all of these years if they hadn't been torn apart. "I'm okay, but I need to see him or I'm always going to wonder."

Mark nodded slowly.

"He's been caught, baby. He's not going to get a chance to hurt you. I won't let him."

She smiled and yet she was on the verge of tears. "I know, Mark. If there's one thing I'm sure of. It's that. You'll protect me."

He let out a breath, exhaling as he moved so she could turn and face the railing of the stairs.

The man being held by Gunny was glaring up at her. She saw Flash behind him with his hands on the chain between a pair of cuffs.

Her heart skipped a beat, relaxing a little more.

She'd known that he was being held and wouldn't hurt her, but it did a lot of good to see it. He... he was someone she'd likely seen a hundred times at concerts. A man in a sea of faces. But there was nothing about him that sparked any kind of recognition. The only thing remarkable about him was the open hate she saw in his eyes.

"You..."

His voice crawled over her skin.

"You.... bitch!"

"Shut your mouth!" Flash or Gunny shook him hard enough to make him wince, but she didn't know who'd done it. Or who'd spoken.

She swallowed and Mark wrapped his arms securely around her, but she didn't move. She didn't want to go inside, not yet.

Heather focused her gaze at him.

"I don't even know you. I don't know anyone!"

"You're a liar!" He spat his words out. "You love me! You play for me! I'm the one who loves you! It's me!"

Heather shook her head. "I don't know you. I've never met you. I don't-"

"Who cares!" The man looked near to breaking and that she understood. "I can't help how much I love you."

Heather wanted to vomit. The little bits of food that she'd snacked on before leaving the hotel suite were rising up toward her mouth. "Mark?"

"Let's get you inside."

She nodded, hoping that she'd go numb in a moment, but as Mark turned her toward the door, she heard the man again.

"You're a faithless whore!"

A dull thud reached her ears, but she didn't turn back to look at the man.

When she stepped into the dressing room Mark didn't stop her moving until she was standing at her dressing table, the mirrors gave her a view of the whole room, including Mark stepping back to give her space.

Heather set her violin down and ran her hands over the cover.

"You protected it."

She swallowed as she absorbed his words. He'd made a statement, but there was an unspoken question in his words.

"I protected it because it's invaluable."

"You," he shot back, "are invaluable. It's a bunch of wood that makes pretty sounds when you play it."

His tone was harder. Rougher at first before he schooled it into a more reasoned tone.

"Mark-"

"I was hired to protect you-"

"You were hired to protect the violin. I know that because both you and Bart have said-"

"He said that because he knew that you wouldn't take the bodyguard. But you were both to be protected. I just," he pressed his lips together and drew in a breath through his nose, "I just need to know that you'll protect yourself, more than that violin."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm going to protect the violin, Mark. That's not up for discussion." She turned, putting the three-part mirror behind her. "You knew when you took the job that it was about the violin-"

"Not once I saw you. Not once I knew that you were there. That you were alive!"

She could feel the rising tide of emotions in the room. His fear added to her relief was a dangerous combination. She'd had no control over her life for years, now she was trying to get some of it back and Mark pushing her like this wasn't good.

"It's part of who I am, Mark. It's what I do. And if Bart wasn't helping me, I'd have to make a living off of this skill. I don't have anything else, so you can't tell me to not protect it, because I will fight you on that."

He shook his head.

"I'm not fighting you, Heather."

"You might not be raising your voice, but you're fighting me all the same."

He opened his mouth to speak and then shook his head. It seemed like he was rethinking his words.

She hoped that he was. She didn't want to fight with him. Ever, but also not before a show. She was already off kilter having so many people around her.

"When it comes to your safety," she didn't miss the emphasis that he put on his words, "I might have to override your decisions."

Her head snapped up and she wondered if her gaze could bore a hole through his head. "Again, you were hired to protect the violin!" She pushed away from the makeup table and extended an arm toward the case. "What don't you understand?"

"I understand, Heather! I-"

"No," she shook her head resolutely, "you don't. If you did, you'd understand that the only thing here that I'm going to protect if something happens is that instrument! You do know how much it's worth, don't you?"

"I know the value of it if you're talking about cash, but your life-"

"I'm living on borrowed time!" She drew back, shocked at her own words.

"That's not true, Heather. We got the man-"

"You got a crazy ass fan of mine. That's what he is. I had some before. I'll have more later. That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then, what-"

"I nearly died that night in the Hampton's, Mark. I felt my whole life draining out of my body. The only reason I'm still here is that Alex kept talking to me the whole way to the hospital." She heard the ghost of Alex's words in her head from that night and it made her smile. "He tried to talk to me and keep me focused and conscious, but then the pain and the fear were sucking me under."

She saw Mark's hands fist at his sides and the powerful tick in his jaw muscle. She wondered if it hurt.

She didn't want him to hurt.

She'd never wanted him to hurt.

And she'd done that when she'd left. She knew that.

But she'd also been hurt.

She'd pulled her life, such as it was, back together. She'd crawled out of her cave.

Things like this?

"I love you, Mark. I've loved you since that summer, but I finally have a life out of the shadows. I have a responsibility to protect that violin, just like you do. That's your job!"

"Fuck my job, Heather! I'm going to protect you, first and foremost. I could care less about the damn violin."

"Then we're at an impasse." She heard the vehemence in his voice and knew that he wasn't kidding, but neither was she. "I'm going to do my job, Mark. And that means I'm going to take care of the violin. It's worth more than my life."

"Don't." Mark's voice was so soft, she wasn't sure she heard it at first. "Don't say that. It's not true."

"Well, we'll have to agree to disagree won't we." Heather moved over to the wall and took her cardigan from the hook where she left it and pulled it on, trying to fight off the cold. "I'm going to protect that violin, Mark. I'm a performer and that violin made me the name that I am."

"You made you the name that you are! You were big before you held that violin for the first time. Don't make the mistake of thinking that it's more important than you are. That will never be the case."

It felt good to hear the words.

Incredible in fact.

"I..." She crossed her arms across her chest and rubbed her hands against her upper arms. "I love that you think that, Mark, but now that the man who was coming after me has been caught. I'm sure you can get back to bodyguarding someone who needs it."

"I don't think I'm done here. We haven't even questioned him yet."

She nodded, understanding. "Then maybe you should go and question him. I need to get ready for the show tonight."

He didn't move at first, watching her.

She felt the weight of his gaze on her and it warmed her a little, but the chill continued to work its way through her cardigan.

"What's wrong? Are you cold?"

She chuckled a little at the change in his tone. So gruff and yet worried.

"It might just be the let down in blood flow. That excitement on the stairs." She tried to play it off. "But there's a cold draft in here. It's not good for my muscles before a show." She looked around the room and fixed her gaze on a seam in the wall. "I think it's the remodel of the space. The building is still a work in progress from what I read online. So they probably haven't blocked all of the holes and breaks in between all of these metal panels in the wall."

Heather traced her fingers along the seam where she could feel the most air pushing through. “It's actually pretty lukewarm so I guess it's from part of the building they haven't opened yet. It'll be okay. This cardigan has got me through a lot of chilly rooms. I'll be fine."

Mark nodded and turned, opening the door to the stairway.

"Mark?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, a slight hesitation in his gaze. "Yeah?"

"I love you, Mark. No matter what else is going on, know that I mean that. It hasn't changed since..." She swallowed and her eyes closed for a moment as her whole adult life flashed before her eyes. "It hasn't changed."

He dropped his chin down and a soft smile touched his lips. "I love you, too. That hasn't... and will never change."

Mark stepped outside and she shivered in earnest. It wasn't the air leaking in through the walls that made it happen.

She just had a feeling that something was... off.

Lifting her hand to the back of her neck she rubbed at the tender flesh there. It felt like someone was watching her.

She knew it was crazy.

They'd caught her stalker.

They were talking to him right now.

So, she just didn't know why her imagination was playing tricks on her. It was the last thing that she needed when she needed to be on for her performance in a few hours. The people who were paying to see her were owed a good show.

They were the people she had to focus on.

She had to put her own worries behind her and take care of her job. Moving back to the vanity where she'd laid the violin case, she smoothed her fingers over the seam along the side and flicked open the clasps. The case was lightweight, but heavy duty enough to withstand a bullet. Kevlar makes amazing products when you have the money to invest in it. And Bart had that money and then some.

When she'd heard one of the men say 'gun,' she'd acted on instinct. Pulling the case into her body, Mark turned her around and put his own body between hers and the would-be shooter. It all seemed meaningless now that she could think about it.

Not Mark protecting her, but the way she'd hunched herself over the case to protect it.

Instinct.

Crazy, but true.

Mark had been right about her career. She'd made her first big splash due to the videos on social media.

That's how she'd become a mediocre sensation.

She didn't have the fancy video editing that other channels did. She played because it was the only personal contact that she had beyond the WITSEC guards who were basically keeping her hostage for her own good. She discovered who was out there, reading their comments on her videos, getting a taste for the outside world. She got to share her love of music with the world and see that they shared her love as well.

It was eye-opening to go from being shut in to reaching people around the world. It gave her a chance to be 'alive' even if it was just on their phones or computers. Performing live was that next step for her. She was able to see people in the audience. She could see them react in real time to her performance and it gave her chills. It made the music more... tangible. Like she could actually reach out and touch the music.

And from the reviews of her shows, the audience felt it too.

Opening her travel case, she took out her mask and set it on the countertop beside her. The empty eyeholes in the shaped mask looked back at her and she smiled. "What are you looking at, Nix?" Her smile deepened as she chuckled at herself. [I feel like she should've had her mask on if not her full costume/outfit while entering the venue if her anonymity was that important to her. Maybe have her remove her mask here to put on her makeup and such?]

"Don't let Mark find out that you're talking to yourself. He'll think you're crazy."

She paused and added in. "Bart already knows you are. Mark, well, he's still finding out that you're not the same girl you were back then."

As she looked at the mask, a haunting thought came to her.

Mark was different, too.

What did that mean for them?

Shaking her head, she turned away from the mask and took out her handful of make-up items and laid them out on the counter. Base, blush, lipstick and a dark base to put on around her eyes. It didn't pay to make her eyes look 'pretty.' Instead she followed a make-up tip she learned from watching a behind the scenes special on a superhero film. Paint her skin around her eyes a darker color to aid in the shadows of the mask and keep her identity a secret.

Her life had depended on it at first, and now she kept it up as the character in front of audiences.

"Well," she told her mask, "I better stop lollygagging and get ready, right?"

Right.

Heather picked up her base and a sponge and got to work.