Her Shield (The Uncut Series Book 1) (8 page)

  “I'll be right outside if you need me.” He came over and kissed her lips.

  She returned his kiss then watched as he picked up his weapon and walked out to the patio. Isis bit her lip and looked at the vegetables he'd placed on the counter then to the pan next to the stove. She wished she had access to her phone. At least she could Google and see what she was supposed to do.

  Think Isis...you're smart. Vegetables can't be that hard to cook. They're vegetables, people eat them raw so cooking them shouldn't be difficult, she thought.

  She placed the skillet on the very generous flames and grabbed the oil on the counter, pouring a generous amount into the pan. She'd seen the cook use oil to prepare things so she thought it was needed. Isis took the pre-cut vegetables consisting of broccoli, cauliflower, Brussel sprouts and carrots then dumped them all into the hot pan causing the oil to splatter and catch the flames. Her eyes widened as the flames grew and surrounded the pan.

  “Oh my god!” she screeched.

  Moving quickly she went to the sink and started the water before turning to look for something to put it in. Her only thought was that she had to put the fire out...

  Marc started the grill then put his sunglasses on. He placed the prime cuts of meat on the fire before heading back inside to see if Isis needed any help. He heard her cry and switched immediately into agent mode. He was in the kitchen in a flash and quickly assessed the situation. His vision went from the blazing fire to Isis holding jug of water. 

He grabbed her. “Isis no!”

She tried to pull away to get to the stove. “Marcus there's a fire!”

Marc removed the jug from her hand and dumped it into the sink. “Don't move!”

  He sat his weapon aside then reached inside the cabinet for a lid and rushed over to the stove turning the knob, cutting the fire underneath. Calmly he smothered the remaining flames with the lid, before moving the pan from the stove and sitting it to the side.

  Turning he rushed over to her. “Are you okay? Did you get burned?” he asked while looking over her bare arms.

Shaking she answered, “No, I'm fine. Why did you stop me from putting the fire out?”

  “You can't put water on a grease fire. It makes the flames spread,” he explained calmly.

  “Oh...I didn't know that.”

  “What happened sweetheart?” His hand went to her face lifting it to his.

Marc watched in confusion as her eyes watered. “I'm sorry,” she whispered very softly.

  “Sorry for what?”

Her face scrunched. “I started the fire...because I don't know how to sauté,” she admitted.

  “So why didn't you say that before you tried to burn down Ray's multi-million dollar home?” Marc questioned softly looking down at her.

Isis lowered her gaze. “I didn't know how.”

  “Uh, 'Marcus I can't sauté' would have sufficed.”

She looked back at him with watery eyes. “I can't cook. I don't know how. I never had to.”

  “Now was that hard?” he asked catching the single tear that slipped from her eye.

Isis smiled slightly. “Yes, very much so.”

  “Why Isis?”

  She shrugged. “Society says that I'm not a real woman if I can't cook and clean. How can I fulfill what every woman's alleged lifelong dream is of taking care of a husband and family if I'm not domesticated?”

  She looked at him. “I will try but my husband will either help me or hire someone, like my Daddy did.”

  Marc caressed her cheek. “If it's a choice between you cooking and me dying, I'd hire anyone you want.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Just tell me sweetheart. I'll never judge you.”

  Isis laid her head on his shoulder holding him tightly. “Thank you Marcus. You don't know how much that means to me.”  

  It meant more to Isis than he could ever imagine. All of her life, she'd been judged as the light-skinned, rich girl with pretty hair. The fact that she was smart and double majored in college was often overlooked, along with the fact that she was a sweet, loyal and kindhearted person.

  To Isis, being the daughter in a wealthy family was not a badge of shame, it was a blessing. No, she hadn't lived a hard life and she wouldn't apologize for it. She just tried to be the best person she could be.

   “I need to check the steaks before I burn the house down too,” he told her then took her hand. “We'll do something else about vegetables.”

He began to lead her out of the kitchen. “You don't trust me in here?” she asked smiling.

  “Hell no! Didn't you see that damn blaze you started?”

  She laughed as Marc led her through the house and out to the grill where he checked the perfectly seasoned steaks. Isis watched as he flipped the meat before closing the cover and turning to her.

  “Your father is a famous movie star so I'm sure your family had chefs and cooks. How is it that you can cook so well?” she asked leaning against the furniture.

He folded his muscled arms. “I've been on my own for a while. I left home at sixteen.”

Isis looked confused. “You left for college?”

  “No Princess, I ran away.”

Marc's phone rang in the distance and he looked at her. “I need to answer that.”

  She nodded slowly and he walked away. Isis stood in confusion contemplating what Marcus had told her. He'd run away from home and never returned?

  Marc returned and she could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong and he was clearly in agent mode now. He had removed his glasses and his gray eyes were serious.

  “Your father is in the hospital. The preliminary diagnosis is a heart attack,” he announced watching her closely.

  Isis was sure she had not heard him correctly. She stood frozen watching him as he handed her his phone.

  “Your sister wants to speak with you.”

Isis took the phone with stiff hands and brought it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Isis, this is Isabelle.”

  “Isabelle what happened?” Isis asked in a light voice.

  “Daddy's in the hospital. They think he had a heart attack. We're waiting to hear more,” Isabelle explained.

Isis took a breath. “Are you there with him?”

   No, Shana was with him when he collapsed and she's at the hospital now. I think my presence will just upset him and Ray doesn't want me to go there until we know exactly what his condition is.”

  “I need to go to him,” Isis said putting a hand to her mouth.

  “Isis we don't think...” Isabelle began and Isis' eyes sought Marc's.

  She lowered the phone not listening to her sister anymore. “Please take me there,” she asked him.

  “It may be too dangerous for you to be there,” he responded.

  Isis went to him and stared up into his face. “Please, he's my Daddy,” she choked out holding back her tears.

  Marc stared down into her water-filled eyes and could not deny her. “Go get dressed.” He took the phone from her hand and began speaking to Isabelle as Isis ran to her room.

  “Hi Isabelle, I'm taking her to the hospital,” he relayed.

  “Do you think it's safe?” Isabelle questioned.

  “I won't let anything happen to her,” Marc promised.

Isabelle heard the serious inflection in his voice. “I trust you Marc.”

  “I'll have her call you after she sees him.”

  “Thank you Marc.”

  He ended the call then went to remove the steaks he was grilling before changing himself. He was exiting the kitchen where he'd gone to put the food away when she emerged from her room and their eyes met.

  “I'm ready.”

  He nodded and started towards the door. When they met there, he looked down at her. “I understand how much your father means to you, but your safety is what is important to me so when we get there, I need you to follow my directions and not make me the enemy.” 

  Marc knew how Isis' father liked to manipulate situations to his advantage. With him being hospitalized, Isis would feel every ounce of sympathy possible for the man and Milton was just dirty enough to use it.

  “I know you're not the enemy Marcus,” she whispered.

  He leaned down to kiss her briefly before escorting her out to the car. The drive to the hospital was basically quiet as Isis was deep in her thoughts. Marc held on to her hand the entire drive but didn't intrude on her thinking.

  At the hospital, Marc was met by the backup he'd called in and they all walked inside with Isis in tow. The three men were dressed alike in dark suits and dark glasses. They all flashed their shields as they entered the doors.

  Quickly they were shown to the floor where Milton's room was located. Isis moved forward to approach the desk and heard someone shouting.

  “I can't believe you came here!”

  Isis turned towards the voice and her eyes narrowed as she stared at her half-sister Shana White.

  “I'm here to see my Daddy!” Isis returned.

  Shana moved closer and Marc stepped in front of Isis. “You bitch! You're the reason he's going to die!”

Shana yelled and Isis gasped.

  “Okay, back the hell up!” Marc demanded staring at Shana.

Shana put her hand on her hip and looked him up and down. “Who the hell are you?”

Marc frowned. “That's funny. I was about to ask you the same damn thing.”
 

  Shana's eyes narrowed on Marc as the doctor approached the group. They all turned towards the man in the scrubs and he analyzed the people waiting in the lobby.

  “Who is here for Mr. Martin?”

Both Shana and Isis answered. “I am. He's my Daddy.”

  They turned to each other and Marc now knew who this woman was. Ray had told him about Isabelle and Isis' half-sister, but he had never met her in person. From Ray's description, she was a female version of their father, which to him meant she was a threat to Isis.

  The doctor looked between the two women. “He's stable now and awake. We believe Mr. Martin suffered a mild heart attack. His tests all came back negative for any damage to the heart but he is still complaining of chest pains, so we will be keeping him for at least the next few days to monitor him.”

  “Can I see him?” Isis asked eagerly.

  “I want to see him first!” Shana demanded. “I was the one who brought him here. He couldn't even find your ass!”

  Marc stepped up and ended the debate before it began. He flashed his badge to the doctor. “Special Agent Graham, FBI. I've brought Miss Martin here to check on her father. She'll see him first and then his other daughter can visit.”

  The doctor nodded and Shana frowned. “You can't just come in here and start directing. This is my Daddy!”

  Marc glanced at Shana then back to the doctor. “You can take Miss Martin to see her father now. I'll make sure Miss White doesn't cause a scene.”

Isis looked up at Marc as he moved her gently towards the doctor. “Thank you Marcus.”

  “Don't forget, I'm not the enemy,” he told her quietly. She nodded and followed the doctor as he led her down the hall.

  Marc turned to Shana who was looking at him with pure rage. “Don't even think about it,” he warned. He turned to the two additional agents. “If she moves, arrest her.”

  Both men nodded then glanced over at Shana who was standing in complete shock as Marc walked away in the direction where the doctor had escorted Isis. Shana didn't know who this guy was, but what she did know was that he was fine and sexy. She didn't know what Isis was doing with the Agent but she knew what she wanted to do with him. Shana looked at the two agents standing watching her before taking a seat, waiting to see her Daddy and that fine ass Special Agent Graham.

*********

  Isis pushed opened the heavy door and entered the room where her father laid in a hospital bed connected to a few machines. She rushed to his side and took his hand.

  “Daddy,” she whispered.

Milton smiled slowly at her. “Baby girl, you came.”

Isis squeezed his hand. “Of course I came, Daddy. I never want anything to happen to you.”

  “I couldn't find you. I was worried.”

  She looked down into his face. “I'm sorry Daddy. After that man pulled a gun on me, Agent Graham took me away to keep me safe.”

Milton's eyes narrowed. “Agent Graham?”

Isis nodded slowly. “Yes, he's protecting me.”

  “I told you I would protect you. You don't need him! I want you to stay away from him.”

Isis looked away. “He's not the enemy Daddy.”

  “How the hell is he not Isis? He wants to put me in prison!” Milton began to turn red and one of the machines began to beep.

She turned back to him. “Daddy please calm down.”

  “He's just wants to use you to get to me!” he snapped.

  “He wouldn't do that Daddy,” Isis protested. “And if you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to worry about.”

Milton lifted a brow. “If? What the hell does that mean?”

Isis turned to the monitor. “Let's not discuss this now Daddy. I just want you to get better.”

  Milton studied his daughter noticing there was something different about her. Outwardly she was still as beautiful and put together but he sensed a change in her underneath. What the hell had that damn FBI Agent done to her?

  He looked up as the door opened and a nurse entered followed by Agent Graham. The nurse hurried over to begin checking both Milton and the monitors. Marc stepped over to the bed and stood behind Isis looking down at Milton.

  “Mr. Martin.”

  Milton frowned as the nurse adjusted his pillow to make him more comfortable. “Mr. Martin, we need you to relax and not get upset. We don't want that machine going off any more. Okay?” the nurse told Milton. She turned to Marc and Isis. “I'm going to have to ask you both to let Mr. Martin rest. We want to keep him as calm as possible while we monitor him.”

  Isis looked down at her father. “I'll be back to see you Daddy. Please get better.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

  Milton kept his eyes on Marc as his daughter kissed his jaw. Isis straightened then turned to Marc. “You will bring me back?” she asked quietly.

  “Let's talk in the hall,” Marc responded staring down at her.

  Isis nodded slowly then turned back to Milton. “Bye Daddy.” She turned and walked out of the room followed by the nurse.

  Marc turned to Milton. “If you're faking this heart condition Mr. Martin, you will regret it. Regardless, you're still going to prison.”

  “I'm not going to no damn prison Agent Graham,” Milton whispered. “And if you've touched my daughter I will make sure you regret it!”

Marc stepped closer. “Your daughter has nothing to do with me and you.”

  “Stay away from Isis or I will make sure your father performs his final act.”

Marc leaned over. “You're threatening my family?”

  “You investigate me and I investigate you Marcus Graham. You don't know who you're messing with boy,” Milton gritted out.

  Marc stood to his full height and adjusted his dark glasses. “I could arrest you right now, but I'm not.” He stared down at Milton. “What I'm going to do is take your daughter, and tonight when you're sitting in this hospital bed, I'll be kissing her goodnight.”

  He walked to the door stopping for a moment before turning back to the fuming man in the bed. “Don't fuck with me, Milton.”

  Marc opened the door and walked out as the monitor began beeping loudly. A nurse ran down the hall passing Marc as he met Isis.

  “What happened?” she asked in alarm watching another nurse rush into her father's room.

  Marc took her arm. “He's fine.” He gently led her down the hall to a different set of doors. The two agents joined them as he led her to the car. 

Inside the car, she turned to him. “I want to stay close in case something happens.”

  “I have to keep you safe Isis,” he said turning to her.

  “I don't want to go back on that mountain. It's too far away.” Her eyes looked into his dark glasses.

  Marc nodded then turned to start the car. Isis stared out the window as he drove and thought about her father.

  She turned back to Marc. “What happened with you and my father when I left the room?” she questioned.

Marc glanced her way. “Your father and I were letting each other know where we stand.”

  “What does that mean?”

   “Nothing for you to worry about Princess,” he promised taking her hand.

  Isis held his hand tightly. “The doctor said he's going to be fine. He needs to rest and stay calm.”

  “I'm sure he's going to be fine. I never doubted it.”

Isis frowned. “What are you saying Marcus?”

  “Your father wanted to find you and this was his way of doing it.”

  “Marcus my father is lying in a hospital bed right now!”

He nodded. “And he knows that you're going to stay around to check on him.”

Isis removed her hand. “Don't do that!”

  “Do what?”

  Her eyes flashed. “Make me sound like some air-headed Princess that my Daddy can manipulate.”

  “I never said you were an air-head.”

  “But you think my Daddy manipulates me?” she demanded.

He turned to her. “Yes. I think your father manipulates everyone around him, or tries to.”

  They turned into a parking garage and drove until Marc reached a designated spot. Isis looked at him in question as he exited the car and came around to help her out. Stepping out she took his hand and allowed him to lead her into the building. In the lobby, an attendant greeted him.

  “Good evening Agent Graham.” Marc nodded as they continued to the elevator.

  Isis remained silent as he led her to a door with the number eighty-eight in gold numbering. She waited as he retrieved the keys and opened the door allowing her to go inside.

  Isis walked through the door and paused. The floor to ceiling windows gave a spectacular view. After he flicked a switch on the wall, she observed gleaming floors that were spotless and opulent furniture. Beautiful paintings hung on the walls and she looked from the living room into the open concept kitchen and dining room. All in all, the apartment was exquisite.

Isis turned to him. “This is yours?”

   “Yes.” Marc began to remove his jacket. “Make yourself at home.”

  Isis watched as he stepped inside and removed his weapon placing it in a nearby drawer. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

  She remained in the same spot holding her bag as he turned on more lights. When he was done, he turned and noticed her standing as though she was lost in a dream. Silently he walked and stood in front of her. Marc removed his glasses then gently pulled her into his arms holding her closely. Isis gasped when he swept her up into his arms carrying her across the room to the sofa.

  Marc held her on his lap and looked into her lovely and sad face as Isis kept her arms looped around his neck watching him. He touched his lips to hers softly and she responded offering him more until he was engaging her lips and tongue.

  Isis held on to his solid frame reveling in his strength and Marc pulled her closer stroking her back gently. She moved back and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

  “We'll stay here until your father is released. It's closer to the hospital,” he explained.

Isis touched his jaw. “Do you regret what we did?”

  “Is that how you feel?” he asked.

She traced his full lips. “No, I don't.”

  “I don't ever do anything I regret. I learned a long time ago not to do that,” he told her.

Isis pulled back. “You told me you wouldn't lie to me.”

  “I won't.”

  She looked at him. “What happened in my father's hospital room, because I know something did happen.”

  Marc settled his hand around her waist. “Your father has decided to play hardball and threaten my family, since I'm investigating him.”

Isis eyes widened. “What did you say?”

Marc remained silent as she scrambled to her feet. “My father threatened to hurt your family?”

  Isis was more hurt and embarrassed than she had ever been in her life. Marcus' family had nothing to do with his job. They were the kindest people she had met. Isis had no doubt that Marcus was telling her the truth. He had never lied to her, not even if he knew it would hurt her feelings. She grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.

  “I shouldn't be here. You shouldn't even care.” She was fidgeting with the locks when he came to stand behind her. Marc placed his hand over hers on the latch to stop her.

  “Isis...”

  “No,” she choked. “This is wrong. My Daddy can't do this. I have to stop him!”

Marc slipped an arm around her waist pulling her back against him. “I can handle your father.”

  Isis let her head fall against the door closing her eyes. “Why do you want to protect me?” she whispered.

Marc leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Because now, you're mine to protect.”

  “You shouldn't want me,” she told him.

  “I know.”

She kept her head against the door. “I shouldn't want you either.” Isis turned to face him.

  “But I do...I think I always have,” she finished looking up at him.

Marc touched her cheek. “Your father has nothing to do with us.”

  Isis felt his body pressed against hers and smiled at him before dropping her bag to the floor. His mouth was on hers as soon as it landed. She wound her arms around his neck returning his kiss measure for measure. Marc lifted her hands above her head against the door and pressed closer allowing her to feel his evident desire for her. Isis moaned and as always, it drove him to distraction. He also heard her stomach grumble.

Marc raised his head. “We haven't eaten all day Princess and I hear your stomach protesting.”

Isis flushed. “Sorry, I didn't realize I was hungry.”

  “I should have fed you a long time ago.” He released her hands and kissed her softly. “No cooking in my kitchen, okay?”

  “I'm never going to live that down, am I?” she asked smiling.

  “Never.” He took her hand and led her into the kitchen where he gestured for her to take a seat at the counter.