Page 33 of Emma's Element

“How much did Mallow pay you for dirt on me?” he gritted, enunciating each word so that there could be no confusion as to what he was accusing her of.

“Now Marcus, Honey. Calm down. This is going to be very good for you.”

“You’re fired, Colleen,” he said frostily. He was so done with her shit.

“You can’t fire me!” she insisted. “You need me. Is this because ofher? Whoever it is you are fucking there in the middle of nowhere will never be capable of giving you what I can.”

“This has nothing to do with her. This is about you trying to make an extra buck at my expense. This is about you not following my instructions. Who in their right mind would ever want to work with someone like that? You are fired, and my lawyer will be in touch.”

He hit the end button just as she sputtered about how he’d regret firing her and wished he could slam the damn thing down. He’d never been so furious in his life. Another betrayal in a long line of betrayals. Rage churned through him. He pushed his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands as his shoulders heaved.

“Marcus,” Emma said quietly from behind him. He spun to face her with a growl, anger still seething within him. She flinched.

“Emma,” he said, instantly contrite. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. She didn’t deserve his anger. “Fuck, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.” She took a step toward him, but he backed away. He clenched his hands into fists, resisting the urge to reach for her. If he lost himself in her again, the hits against her would only get worse. He needed to leave before she ended up like Marci. “I should go,” he said, ignoring the hurt in her eyes. He turned to grab his coat, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to do that, Marcus. I know you value your privacy, but . . .”

“It’s not my privacy I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, dropping her hands.

“You don’t understand. Those two pictures will turn into dozens more by this time tomorrow. If I stay here with you, your life will be turned upside down. And they won’t be nice about it. When they link you to me, discover your identity, your life will never be the same. They’d hound you day and night. They’d tear your past apart and destroy your present. They thrive on ruining the life of anybody I get close to. I can’t be responsible for that again. I can’t watch it happen again. I’m sorry, Emma. I should never have . . .” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned his back to her.

“Marcus?”

“I need to leave now. I should never have attempted any of this. It was such a stupid dream.” He met her eyes, sure that his anguish was etched into his features. “I’m sorry, Emma. I’ll head back to LA as soon as I can arrange it. Hopefully, the vultures will follow me and leave you alone.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she whispered. “We could fight this together. I didn’t have that support the last time. I’m sure together we can fight anything that will come.”

Her words didn’t penetrate, he was too focused on his need to protect her from the hell that Marci had experienced. He would draw them away from her, and that would be the end. “What those vultures will do to you is no way to live,” he answered sadly. “I couldn’t stand to see that happen to you. Or the rest of the Nighthawks. Because once they find out where you work . . .”

“We can take precautions against all that. You’re family now. Don’t throw us away. Don’t throwmeaway!” she pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Emma. It won’t work. It never does. I should never have come here. Tell Graham I’ll call him tomorrow.” He grabbed his coat and walked out the door trying in vain to block out the sound of tears in her voice as she called after him.

Chapter eleven

HowcouldEmmapossiblyfeel this devastated? It had only been a few kisses. Intense, scorching kisses. Kisses that had ended in disaster. She stood in the shower letting the spray wash away her tears. How could she have been such an idiot? She’d told herself over and over again it would be a mistake. And yet, she’d fallen for him anyway. Stupid!

She’d never forget the expression on his face just before he’d left her, absolutely lost. So broken. So alone. He’d been happy these last couple of weeks, finally opening himself up to her and her fellow Nighthawks. She understood he’d had some pretty shitty experiences in the past with his so-called friends, but Emma thought he trusted them enough to let them in. She thought he was trustingherenough.

Emma got out of the shower and dressed slowly. Marcus was trying to protect her, something she didn’t have when she’d fought to get the truth out near the end of her Coast Guard career, but there had to be a way to fix this . . . together. She’d fought alone last time. If they worked together, they could get in front of this, and it wouldn’t be as bad as it had been last year.

But, knowing the press, everything she’d experienced the previous year would be front and center again. They’d already labeled her a slut in just that one article. If they started digging and found out who she was and her past history . . . She felt sick to her stomach.

Racing back into the bathroom, she emptied her stomach as every hateful word that had been thrown out about her tumbled about in her brain. Whore. Strumpet. Homewrecker. The media had given her the title The Coastie Siren, accusing her of awful deeds, which were all completely unfounded. After the accident, they’d alleged she was some sort of evil seductress. Men had died, and they made up mythological nonsense about her, needing a scapegoat. She became their unwilling target, especially after they linked her to her deceased best friend and partner. The things they claimed she’d done with him still made her sick, forcing her to crouch over the toilet again as she dry heaved.

Collapsing on the floor, Emma rested her head on her bent knees. A tear slipped past her lashes; she ruthlessly swiped it away, angry at herself for letting a few words in a donkey dung article bring everything back up again. She’d feared being with someone of Marcus’s stature would be difficult, especially with the amount of media attention he often received. And she’d figured they would unearth those mule pucky articles and drag her name through the mud. But she had begun to think that with Marcus by her side, she could withstand the attacks.

She had started to feel safe with Marcus and believed he would see those reports for the lies that they were just as she saw through the fabrications about him. He had shared a lot of his truth with her. She regretted not sharing more of her own story with him. Thinking to protect herself from the exact hurt she was currently experiencing; she’d hidden a huge part of her past from him. It had been a mistake. Perhaps if she’d shared with him what she’d gone through, he would have been more willing to stand beside her. But instead, she’d been a coward, worried about how she would be perceived. Even though the truth had come out and ended her reign as the Coastie Siren, the damage had been done. She’d lost her career, her friends, and her self-respect.

His choosing to run hurt, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. She should have known she wasn’t good enough to stand and fight with. Nobody had stood by her last time either. Her friends ostracized her, believing the worst of her. She’d lost more than just her teammates that awful day.

She had just started to gain her confidence back. The Nighthawks and Jolene had gone a long way to restoring her self-assuredness. And the respect Marcus had shown her had done her self-esteem wonders. Not to mention the heated, hungry gazes she’d caught from him on multiple occasions, which broadcast his desire . . . for her. She was ready to build something with him. Something she knew would be spectacular. But now, all that was lost.

Marcus was a fool to think the press would follow him. They were going to dig. They would find out who she was. They’d find everything about her; there was no stopping that now. She needed to call Graham; she could request a room at the barracks until this blew over. If her past experience with the media was any indication, there would be photographers camped out in front of her apartment in no time. She would have to wait it out and hope they didn’t destroy her reputation as badly as the last time. The Nighthawks would rally around her, she was sure. If she could gain the courage to confess her past to them, they would help to shield her from the approaching paparazzi maelstrom . . . she hoped.

But who was going to protect Marcus? He would return to his lonely existence. There were no friends to rally around him and have his back. He wasn’t only choosing to leave Emma, but he was also leaving the circle of friendships he was building with the Nighthawks. Every single one of them would do whatever it took to help defend him from any media fallout, it was just the type of people they were.

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