Page 24 of Serve ’N’ Protect

“Why don’t you tell them you need some space?”

“Can’t.” She shook her head. “It would hurt their feelings, and it’s not the Morgan way.”

She rose to get the coffee pot from the counter. Walking awkwardly without the cane, she managed to bring it to the table and refill their mugs. Markus didn’t know the extent of her injuries but wondered if she shouldn’t be stronger by now. In his opinion, she was too skinny and with barely enough muscle to fill out her baggy jeans.

“They’re bringing dinner over later.” She sat then poured milk into her coffee. “I’d be happy to share it with you, although I can’t guarantee it’s carb-friendly.”

“Thank you.” Just what he didn’t need more of. Carbs.

Having been a military fitness instructor, he knew the limits of his body. Aside from walking, he wouldn’t be able to get in much of a workout for a while. That didn’t mean he couldn’t help her work out. Whoever her physical therapist was, he or she wasn’t getting the job done.

His phone buzzed with a text message from Kade: How many feds does it take to change a lightbulb?

Markus typed back: Asshole.

A few seconds later, his phone lit with Kade’s response. Three middle finger emojis.

“Anything about the shooting yesterday?” she asked.

Markus couldn’t miss the worry clouding her eyes. Shit, he was the asshole. Having been overseas in the marines, getting shot at stopped freaking him out a long time ago. But Cassidy was a civilian, and he hadn’t even talked to her about it. For all he knew, she could be experiencing PTSD.

“Nothing yet.” Kade and Matt couldn’t get back to him soon enough. Markus was itching to know whether there were any witnesses or if they’d pulled the license plate of the shooter’s car off the hospital cams. “Are you okay? I mean, it’s not every day someone gets shot at. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, then for a long moment, she stared at the remains of her breakfast, most of which she hadn’t touched. “I realize you don’t know why someone is trying to kill you, but what happened exactly? That is, if you can talk about it.”

“Fair question.” Not that he relished reliving the moment. Considering she’d nearly been killed helping him, he owed her that much. “There were a lot of people visiting the White House that day. Ghost and I worked a double shift. By the time we got home, it was dark out and we were dog-tired.” He leaned back in his chair, remembering everything in graphic, grisly detail. “I got out of my truck, then went to grab something from the passenger seat. Ghost must have seen him because he started barking. I started to turn around when I felt something in my back. The next thing I knew, I was staring at the tip of a blade protruding from my abdomen. Somehow, he managed to stick me right below my body armor.”

“Then it was a knife,” she whispered, her expression turning even more serious. “I thought so. You must have been in incredible pain.”

“I was, but not at first.” Weird how that was. “I looked down at this shiny piece of metal sticking out from my gut and, in that moment, I knew.”

“Knew what?” Cassidy rested her arms on the table, leaning forward.

“That Jack Barnes’s murder wasn’t a random killing and that the same person who’d murdered him was standing right behind me.” He picked up his mug then set it back down. “Jack was also killed with a long blade, probably the same one the killer used on me.” He tightened his fingers around the mug as anger and bitterness swept over him. Anger that they hadn’t caught the guy and bitterness that he’d been so careless.

“Were you able to call for help?” she asked quietly.

“No.” The rest of that night replayed in slow motion. “I yanked my gun from the holster. When I turned to shoot, I didn’t see anything. I didn’t get ten steps before I doubled over and hit the ground. That’s when the pain started. Ghost kept barking, loud enough that eventually one of my neighbors saw me and called 911. By then, I’d lost a lot of blood.”

She smiled wanly. “Losing a lot of blood sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Getting knifed in the back with a blade long enough to gut a whale kinda takes the Christmas spirit out of a guy.” Then again, holiday spirit had never been in him to begin with. After his mother had died, he couldn’t remember a single Christmas.

“I imagine it does.”

A long moment of silence passed before he asked, “Since we’re sharing, tell me about your accident.” Knowing more about her injuries would help him design her a better workout regimen.

“Like I said, it was a car accident.” She took a deep breath then slowly let it out. “It happened about a year ago. Right before Christmas.”

Markus’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. Kade. Adrenaline had his heart pumping faster. The hospital cams were their best lead at catching whoever was trying to kill him. With any luck, one of the cameras would tell them which vehicle the shooter arrived and left in. Maybe it caught the license plate.

This was the call he’d been waiting for.

Chapter Nine

Just when Cassidy thought Markus might have a human side to his stoic, hardcore personality, he morphed right back into cop mode.

His forearm muscles flexed as he gripped the phone tighter. “Kade, whatya got?”