Vivian Arend - High Risk

God, the list of what she didn’t want was growing by the minute.

Marcus rolled and surrounded her, cradling her carefully against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “How long was I out?” he asked.

“Not long. You seemed to be having a bad dream.”

He sighed. “Well, at least it was a short episode. Thanks for being there to pull me out.”

She wanted to tell him it was no problem. Wanted to say that she hated that he had nightmares—to ask if they were because of his accident, and was there anything she could do to help.

But those were questions she would ask if she were staying. If this relationship was going to become more than what they currently had. And she couldn’t force him to stay with her when she was about to blow their connection and the entire SAR team apart. When she was going to have to go back and change her life for good.

Instead, she gave him a partial truth. “Glad I could help.”

Neither of them spoke much as they found their way out of bed. Gathered breakfast cereal from the box. Marcus brewed some of the strongest coffee Becki had ever had, and the bitter taste barely registered on her tongue. Only the heat. The bitterness seemed too appropriate for the day.

They bundled up in their thickest coats and sat in the chairs outside the cabin door that let them look out over the Bow Valley mountain range. Becki debated how long she wanted to stay silent, but it was inevitable. They’d come to hide from the media. With her memories intact, or at least the one that was most important, there was no reason to remain hidden anymore.

The scent of the breeze after it had passed over fresh snow hit her face—adding another acidic, sharp flavour to the day. The truth was going to burn for a long time. Why prolong the pain?

“Marcus?” She kept staring over the beautiful panorama, but even that didn’t provide any hope. “I . . . I cut the line.”

He was next to her chair in an instant, kneeling at her side. “What do you remember?”

Turning to look into his face was possibly more heartbreaking than actually knowing what she’d done. Because now? She was going to sever the line between them and kill all hopes of a relationship. Of a forever between them.

She’d gone and done the worst thing possible. She’d fallen in love just in time to have to cut him free.

His eyes were dark—focused. Totally and completely concentrating on her alone.

Losing his confidence in her was going to be the second worst part.

“I did it, Marcus. I’ve been so certain all this time that I would never ever do that to a partner, but I saw it. The rope attached to my harness was cut, exactly the distance it would have been if I took a knife to it. I saved myself, and Dane died. We can go back—set up an announcement. I should let David know—”

“Bullshit.”

His grip on her thigh had tightened as she spoke, but the sheer violence in his tone shocked her. She frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about? It’s the truth. I can’t deny it. We came here to avoid the reporters, but now that I know—”

“Stop it. You’re jumping to conclusions. Stop rolling yourself forward so fast and tell me what you remember.”

Becki bit back a sob. “Why are you doing this? It’s hard enough to have to say it once, but this is cruel. I killed him, okay? I killed my climbing partner to save myself.”

Marcus caught her and pulled her forward, and she allowed his embrace, her body still stiff, but her face pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Tears escaped no matter how hard she tried to stop them.

He held her tight and managed to switch their positions so she was cradled in his lap, his fingers stroking through her hair as he soothed her. When she managed to stop from shaking so hard, each breath dragging in raggedly, he let her go a bit, far enough that his caress moved to her cheek.

“I know what you’ve remembered seems shocking, and you’re rightly upset. But I need you to tell me all the details, okay? Don’t assume.”

A flash of anger intruded. “You think I’m too stupid to know what I saw?”

“I think you’re too upset to think rationally. Share, let me help you. I’m here for you.”

Becki breathed out her fears and frustrations. This wasn’t going to be settled in a minute, or a day. This was something that would haunt her forever. She might as well start the torture with someone she loved who would at least be honest and not vindictive. Because those responses were sure to be coming down the road.

“I saw the rope, Marcus. I was on my feet, gathering my gear after down climbing a rock face. It must have been after I’d cut Dane free, and I must have slipped and knocked myself out briefly. I had a cut rope attached to my harness. Right after that I found the descent trail I followed that led me past where the girls were trapped—the memory that returned earlier.”

Becki sighed, staring at the mountains. “The two memories line up. I took that short length off and used it as part of the halter I tied to help the girls off the ledge. That’s why I didn’t see it before, why no one noticed.”

Marcus continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “So you remember finding the cut rope, and discovering the girls?”

“The entire rescue of the girls—it’s completely back.” She twisted to face him. “Whenever you’re ready, we can return to Banff.”

He shook his head. “I’m not finished asking questions. You don’t remember the actual moment, do you?”

Pain laced through her and she wiggled free, pressing to her feet so she could stand alone. “Not really wanting that memory to return, if I’m honest. Don’t you think what I have to deal with is enough?”

“I think you’re jumping to some conclusions,” Marcus stated. “I think you’ve had a shock, and you need to slow down and be patient.”

“Fuck being patient,” she shouted. The anger that flared seemed unreasonable, but the knot in her chest was more than she could bear. “This isn’t some training exercise, Marcus. This isn’t about a weekend of us getting our kicks with each other. Someone died, and it was my fault.”

She stomped into the cabin, slamming the door behind her, feeling childish at the same time that the rush of her anger covered some of the pain. Stuffing the few bits of clothing she’d unpacked back into her gym bag gave her a task to concentrate on for a moment. Something other than the fact that her world was falling apart.

She’d known he wouldn’t leave her to brood. His warm body pressed behind her a second before he turned her to face him, his strong embrace tangling around her like a cocoon.

“I’m sorry.” His chest rose as he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for how much this hurts you. For what it’s worth, I still trust you. Completely.”

Another sob escaped at hearing the conviction in his statement.

Oh God. Out of everything he could have said—telling her it would be okay? That she’d make it through? She could have handled those.

His trust tore her apart.

Her fingers curled into a fist, and she pounded his chest in sheer frustration. “You suck, Marcus. I hate crying, and I’m going to bawl like a baby in a second because of you.”

“You deserve the truth,” he said. Simple words. Powerful words.

Becki tilted her head to stare at him. Maybe it wasn’t rational, but knowing he still trusted her, or at least said he did?

She was going to cling to that like a lifeline even as her heart broke and she moved toward saying good-bye.

Stubborn, hardheaded, fantastic woman. Marcus was torn between holding her or shaking sense into her.

Becki wiggled away and disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water spilling through the slightly open door. He peered in to see her press a washcloth to her face, bathing away her tears.