High Risk

CHAPTER 31

Her cheek rested on something cold and solid, flakes of dirt and grit under her palms where they were pressed to the ground. Becki pushed to a sitting position with the caution born of a thousand climbs—testing each hold before trusting her life on it.

She’d expected the spruce forest, but it had vanished, leaving nothing but the grey of cloud and granite. The rock she sat on was bombproof. Flat, solid. The perfect place to take a nap.

Right—as if.

Taking to her feet used more energy than she wanted, every muscle at the point of quivering in agony. Legs, head, torso—all a mass of aches and pains. Cold as well, as if she’d been motionless for a long time. She staggered under the pack’s weight, pulled off her helmet, and rubbed her aching temples. Whatever had happened, she was still standing. Still breathing. It wasn’t the end of the world. She stretched one arm back and clipped her helmet in place, the move more instinctual than planned.

Even her fingertips hurt. She shook out her hands gingerly, trying to get them to warm up, and she brushed her harness. Another habitual move kicked into gear and she reached forward, grabbing the figure-eight knot she found anchored tight. She slid her fingers upward to gather her rope and coil it neatly. When her hand slipped off far too soon, a rush of adrenaline shot through her. Sickening bile rose as her mind registered what was wrong.

The rope ended barely a hand’s grasp from her harness.

She stared down at the cut rope, the ends of the twist already coming unraveled. The moisture on her face—she wasn’t sure if it was the rain that had chosen that moment to become full out, or if it was tears.

What had she done?

Becki woke first, sadness sinking into her brain like a heavy blanket as her dream slipped from the distant place of the night to the here and now. Understanding brought so much sorrow. She rolled slowly, taking herself from under Marcus’s left arm, which lay draped over her stomach.

Recovering the memory was strangely anticlimactic.

Maybe she’d been ready for it. Maybe that was why her heart wasn’t pounding like crazy. While the truth hurt, and finally knowing changed everything, at least she could go on from here. Do what needed to be done.

That was at least something to be grateful for.

She stopped beside the bed, her vision caught by Marcus. The blankets in disarray around him, his naked chest exposed, his head tilted to the side with his right hand near his temple. His left arm, the one that had held her to him, lay across his chest, the shortened section of his forearm ending abruptly. Maybe it should have shocked her how seldom she noticed his missing hand.

He wasn’t lacking, though. In any way. Strong and determined. Giving and powerful. Since the moment she’d met him so many years ago up to now, the only word she had for him was extraordinary.

Now she was going to have to leave him, and the realization hurt far more than she’d expected. The pain she anticipated taking control after her memory returned finally arrived. Only it was because having to say good-bye to Banff would mean leaving Marcus again.

The first time, after their fling, she’d missed him, but with the ease of youth she’d moved on.

She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do that this time.

And last night? God. Last night had been so exactly what she’d needed. Having this man take control of her and drive her to new heights of passion . . .

Marcus scowled, his face tightening in a grimace. He twitched in his sleep. Head jerking as something rolled through his body. Becki stepped closer, concern washing away her own sorrows.

“Marcus?” she whispered. “You’re dreaming. It’s okay. Wake up.”

He moved uneasily, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Moans broke free from his lips, words forming. “No, no . . . Don’t give up.”

Oh no. Whatever nightmares he fought, this could get ugly fast.

“Hang on. I’m coming. I’ll be there.”

“Marcus. Wake up,” she insisted louder. Becki placed one knee on the bed and reached for his leg. He shot upright, arms flailing, and she jerked back to avoid being hit. “You’re good, you’re safe. It’s me, Becki, and we’re in David’s cabin. There’s nothing wrong.”

His body continued to shake for a moment before his eyes slowly focused, and he collapsed back. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She crawled next to him, fingers light on his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for. You okay? Can I get you anything?”

He stared at the ceiling and shook his head. “I’m glad I didn’t come out of that swinging and hurt you.”

Becki laid her head on his chest, stroking him gently. Trying to ease his panic. His heart pounded like crazy, and she deliberately breathed slower. Willing him to find peace. She didn’t want to have him hurting.

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.