Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney

Chapter Eleven

Honor prowledaround the first floor of her house like a caged animal, a ball of fury sitting in her stomach that would not quit. The anger wasn’t aimed at Mack for his punitive scolding, but at herself for behaving so badly in front of a man she’d grown to respect. The childish sulk had come out of nowhere, surprising her with the sheer strength of feelings it had caused to swell within her. Yes, she liked Mack, and he was attracted to her, too, but the way she’d behaved was resonant with more of a teenager than a woman of twenty-four.

Shame heated her cheeks, and a flush of pink spread over her chest and neck. She’d had such a breakthrough, making it right to the bottom of her steps and without freaking out, too. The first time she’d set foot outside of the boundaries of her property and that was how she’d chosen to celebrate—by having a fit in front of the man she most wanted to impress.

But, oh my, he was magnificent when livid. All six feet, four inches of him. She’d bet angry sex with Mack would rock the very foundations this house sat upon. Not that she’d ever experience it. He’d made that very clear.

Why, though?

Maybe the company he worked for frowned on fraternizing with clients. If they did, surely they were fighting a losing battle. Military men were hot as fuck, and it was a known fact that women were turned on by a man in uniform, even if they no longer wore it. Mack might not serve in the military any longer, but he had Royal Marine stamped all over him, just like the ink from his tattoos. Throw in a tense situation, like hers, and boom! Hormones exploding all over the place.

It didn’t matter now. She’d ruined it. Not that there’d been an “it” in the first place.

Oh, for goodness’ sake, Honor. Get out of your head.

An apology would go a long way to smoothing things over between them, and it was on her to make the first move. She trudged upstairs on legs that felt as if the bones were filled with lead, hanging on to the handrail for additional support. She stopped in front of Mack’s bedroom and lifted her closed fist to knock, then, as her courage deserted her, she dropped her arm back to her side.

Maybe she’d give it a bit longer.

No. Delaying the apology would only make it harder. Papa had taught her from an early age not to put off the difficult things, to tackle them head-on and get them out of the way first.

She rapped once. Silence greeted her. Maybe he wasn’t here. Damn, she’d bet he was outside in the yard. Although, she hadn’t heard him come downstairs after he’d thundered up them following their heated argument.

Only one way to find out.

She opened the door. Mack was sitting with his back to the window, his legs crossed in front of him, yoga-style. The backs of his hands rested on his knees, and his middle fingers and his thumbs were touching. He had his eyes closed, and his breathing was slow and steady.

“Mack?”

He didn’t answer her. She tried again, raising her voice this time.

“Mack.”

He kept his eyes shut and huffed a breath through his nose. “What does a man have to do to get a little peace around here?”

“What are you doing?”

“Meditating. Or I was until you tramped in here with your size nines.”

“I’m a size ten, actually.”

He slowly opened his eyes and lifted them to hers. “Have you ever wondered why you can’t just let the little things go? Nine, ten, what the fuck does it matter?”

She frowned, truly considering his question. “I don’t know. And you’re right; it doesn’t matter.”

He uncrossed his legs and shuffled backward until his spine hit the wall. He stretched out his legs in front of him and stared at her, one eyebrow arched as he waited for her to explain herself.

“Do you often meditate?” she asked in place of the apology she’d planned.

“When I need to calm the fuck down, yeah, it helps.”

His lips turned up at the edges while a fresh wave of embarrassment coated her skin in a rush of red.

“I’m sorry.”

He crossed his ankles. “For what?”

She snickered. “You’re not planning to make this easy, then?”

“Nope.” He popped the p. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“I behaved like a child, and I’m mortified. I don’t know what came over me. It’s not like it’s the first time a man has turned me down, but I’ve never reacted like that before.”

He studied her face, his eyes exploring every inch. He tapped the space beside him. “Come and sit down.”

She scuttled over and sat, her back resting against the wall, too.

“Any man who turns you down is an idiot, me included,” Mack said.

“Then why did you?” she dared to ask.

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through his nose. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Honor. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

“Is it your boss? Does he frown upon… intimate relationships with clients?”

“There’s no rule per se. Lots of bodyguards get involved with their clients. It’s unsurprising if you consider the circumstances. The closeness, the stressful situations. Sexual tension is inevitable in some cases. But no. This one is on me.”

“I’m a good listener.”

Mack belted out a laugh. “Nice try, Red.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, her courage bolstered when he didn’t shake her off. “I mean it. If you ever want to talk. Maybe listening to you will help me.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.” He touched his head to hers. “You did well today. I’m proud of you.”

A smile edged across her face, although he wouldn’t be able to see it from this angle. “I’m pretty damn proud of myself, too.”

“You must ring your father and tell him.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll call him later. It’ll give him hope that one day, maybe, I’ll find a way through.”

Mack linked their fingers, and a fluttering set off in her belly as it often did when they physically touched.

“You will. Next task is to walk to the end of your street and back. Every day, push it further and further until you do it without thinking, without fear.”

“I can’t imagine that day,” she whispered.

“It’ll come. Trust me.”

“I’ll try.”

Mack pushed to his feet and helped her up. “Come on. I’ll make you lunch.”

Honor grinned. “At this rate, we won’t need Lizzie.”

A strange expression crossed his face, but then the shutters came down, making him unreadable.

“You don’t like Lizzie very much, do you?”

“I don’t know her.”

“But you instinctively dislike her, yes? I’m curious as to why. Lizzie is lovely. She’s just overprotective of me. That’s all. Maybe you should try harder. Maybe the problem is with you.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Highly likely. Now move your fine arse, or I’ll leave you to make your own lunch.”

* * *

Today’s the day.

I’ve decided. There’s no point in putting it off any longer. It’s time. I want my life back. I want to walk the streets, to go shopping, to eat in a restaurant or see a play. I want to be normal again.

And I want Mack to be proud of me.

I’m not doing it for him. Not completely, anyway. I’m doing it for me, but knowing that my progress is making him happy urges me on.

The happiness in Papa’s voice when I told him I’d made it all the way to the bottom of the steps the other day still makes me glow. He’s been through so much, and I know he only wants the best for me.

As do I.

I can do this. I’m strong. I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor.

Honor snapped the journal closed and stuck it in her drawer. Putting some of her thoughts down on paper was therapeutic. She didn’t write in it all the time, but when she did, she felt at peace with herself for a good while afterward.

She pulled on her sneakers and jogged downstairs.

“Let’s do it. I’m ready.”

Mack’s broad smile at her announcement sent a rush of warmth racing through her body. When he smiled like that, he made her feel capable of anything. She’d spent the last two days since making it down the steps to the street outside her house plucking up courage to go farther, maybe even to the deli on the corner. Pick up one of their pastrami-on-rye sandwiches. Before her abduction, Susie’s Deli had been one of her favorite places to go for a fast and delicious lunch. Lizzie called in regularly to fetch her favorite, but somehow, it didn’t taste the same.

She reached the front door first, and this time, her hands didn’t shake nearly as much as she slid back the deadbolt and turned the knob. A shuffle behind her brought her head around, and she caught sight of Lizzie at the top of the stairs, a basket of laundry tucked into her hip.

Honor grinned. “Look, Lizzie. I’m actually going for a walk. Or I’m going to try at least.”

“That’s wonderful.” Lizzie beamed. “Let me put this in the laundry room, and I’ll come with you.”

“No need,” Mack cut in. “I’d rather have only one female to keep an eye on.”

“I can take care of myself,” Lizzie snapped.

“Let her come,” Honor whispered, nudging Mack in the ribs. “She’s been such a support to me. She deserves to celebrate my successes.”

“Fine.”

Mack’s scowl scored deep, drawing his thick eyebrows in and down, furthering Honor’s certainty that he did not like Lizzie at all. Sure, Lizzie could be prickly at times, but only because she felt protective of Honor. She’d worked for the family for a few years now, although Honor had only really gotten to know her when she’d come to work here instead of at her father’s house. Lizzie was an only child and an orphan. Her dad had died when she was eight, and her mother had passed away a few days after Lizzie’s eighteenth birthday. Honor thought that, in Lizzie’s head, she’d adopted Honor as a kind of sister figure. And that was fine by her considering she had no siblings of her own.

Lizzie skipped down the stairs and dashed off with the laundry, returning less than a minute later.

“Right.” Honor sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “Here we go.”

With Mack on one side of her, his colossal presence an enormous comfort, and Lizzie on the other, Honor made it to the street in half the time of her last attempt. A few people were milling about, but it wasn’t crowded by any means. If it had been, she might have lost her nerve.

“You got this, Red,” Mack murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

She shivered, not from fear this time but from desire. A heaviness settled between her legs, and she pressed them together to ease the ache.

I can do this. I can. I have courage and backbone. He didn’t break my spirit.

Honor wasn’t aware she’d taken a step, but when she emerged from the calming chants that ran through her mind, she was halfway to the corner.

“Oh God, I’m doing it.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Mack spontaneously hugged her and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. Honor froze, then slipped her arms around his waist and snuggled closer. Neither appeared in a rush to release the other until Lizzie cleared her throat. Reluctantly—at least, that was how it seemed to her—Mack let her go.

“You’re amazing, Honor,” Lizzie said. “I’m so proud of you.”

Honor fired a smile at Lizzie. “I’m proud of me, too.”

It took twenty minutes to walk a distance that should’ve taken no more than seven or eight, but as Honor stood outside the deli, having made the journey without freaking out, the first flashes of hope sprang up inside her. What if her future wasn’t lost? With Mack’s guidance, and maybe with the help of the right therapist, she had a chance at life again.

“Okay.” She dug out her credit card from the back pocket of her jeans. “Who’s for tasting the best pastrami-on-rye in the city?”