Page 47

Marcus

I walk into the kitchen and for the second time in two days, I fall witness to Hunter’s lips on Elliott’s.

What in the actual fuck is going on here?

I haven’t seen Elliott since she ran out of the gym the other day, after I was nice enough to try and help her. I saw her spiraling on the sofa after Hunter left to take the call from my security team about a job for one of our clients.

He wanted me to tell her that he’d be back shortly, and there she was, hyperventilating and holding herself like she would crumble into pieces if she let go. I knew what worked for me in those moments, so I didn’t think, I just took her to the gym to get it out.

It worked, she lost herself in the moment and she let her feelings go.

But something else happened, she hardened when I tried to hold her, when I tried to ease the guilt she was putting on her own shoulders.

Guilt that didn’t belong to her. She shoved me to the side as if I wouldn’t be able to relate to her.

Fuck. If she only knew how wrong she was.

My pain and trauma craved to be near hers.

That was the fucking problem.

But now here she was kissing my—I mean, Hunter.

“Ahem–is this becoming a new normal around here? Kissing the victims we rescue?”

Hunter turns to me and I see Kameron sitting on the other side of Elliott.

No. This wasn’t happening. They weren’t serious right now!

I glared at Kam, “Oh, so this is happening after all?” I chuckle in disbelief.

“And what is it you think is happening?”

“You three.” I state flatly, walking to the coffee machine in desperate need of caffeine. “I thought it might happen with lover boy over here leaving you with him for company.” I look at Elliott this time.

“You all know she can’t stay here forever, right? She’ll eventually have to start a new life.”

“She is starting a new life.” Kameron states calmly. “With us.”

“And is that what you want, princess? These two?”

“Only if they want me. If your relationship doesn’t get harmed by this. ”

“ Our relationship? Wow, she does know more than just the mission at hand.” I stir the creamer into my mug, taking a sip and watching all three of them tense up.

They don’t want me here. I’m complicating their new relationship just by standing here.

“I’ll go. Leave you love birds to it.”

“Wait.” Elliott stops me, “I didn’t thank you for the other day.”

“It was nothing.” I try to brush it off. I don’t need her gratitude.

“It wasn’t nothing, it helped me.”

“No worries.”

“What did he do?” Kameron cut in.

“He guided me through a panic attack. He took me to the gym and helped me let out my emotions.”

“You did?” Kameron asks and I don’t dare look at him because I know if I do, he’ll have a smile on his face. He’ll look at me with an unnecessary sense of knowing something he shouldn’t.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal. You were in Everton, Hunter was on a call, so I helped. I can be helpful without it being a big deal.”

“And this helped you?” Hunter asks Elliott, as I try to walk away again.

“Yes, it made me feel like I had a bit of control again.”

“Marcus.” Kameron calls me again.

I took a deep breath, knowing I wouldn’t like what he was about to say, “What?” I answer, annoyed already .

“Can you give her some self-defense lessons?”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“You’re head of the security team and you trained all of our bodyguards and security in combat and defensive training. It’s literally your job.”

“It's not my job to train your new girlfriend.”

“You’re right, it’s not your job. I am saying you are the most qualified since I’m not here to do it myself, and Hunter is Mr. Businessman. Elliott, would it make you feel safer and in control to have some self-defense lessons?”

“Yes.” She nods before turning to me again, “But you don’t have to,” she adds.

“She’s right, you don’t have to.” Kameron raises his hands in the air.

I look at Elliott, who’s biting the inside of her cheek.

She wants me to. I can see she wants me to.

Why? Because it will help her and her trauma? Or because she wants me to be the one to train her?

I sigh in defeat, I know I would’ve wanted someone to give me the chance to gain control again. How can I be the one to deny her some form of relief?

“Fine.” I groan, turning on my feet and walking away from them, “Tomorrow morning, 5am.” I throw over my shoulder before leaving the room.

Fuck, was I going to regret this?

Who was I kidding? I was most definitely going to regret this.