Unlikely Hero (Atlanta #1) (9 page)

He was so angry to think of how much she lost at the hands of that entitled, over-puffed college boy. Thank goodness Marcus had no idea who that asshole could be. Marcus's rage was an impressive thing. He wanted to use his anger and training to make an impression on Erin's attacker.

By the end of the shift, Marcus had thought his way through her note and had decided on a response. He didn’t feel he had any other choice than to ask what he needed to.

E~

It truly breaks my heart to think of you scared and alone for so long. I'm sure you're terrified even now for telling me that. Don't worry, I'll take good care of it, just like I have with everything else you've told me. But now I really want to just take care of
you
, not just your story.
 

I spent a lot of years holding my sister through her tears when she was broken and scared. You have no idea how badly I want to hold on to you, too. Words in this book aren’t enough right now. I hope you don't find that frightening.
 

I will never do anything to hurt you or break your trust and I know I’m probably scaring you right now for asking, but you haven't let anyone in. I think you need that, even if you're scared of it. I want you trust me. I want to help. You’re safe with me. I'm strong enough to protect you. Will you let me?

~Marcus Walker

Erin sat at her cafe table, stared at his note, and started crying again. His name was Marcus and he wanted to take care of her. He wanted to be her champion and hold her while she cried. And even though she wanted to, meeting him already was too much to consider, even after all these months.
 

Suddenly those notes that brought her close to him seemed like a path to her undoing. She had been so safe and closed away from people for so long, she didn’t even realize she had let him in as far as she had. Sharing herself had been too easy in that book, but now look what she had done! She was open and exposed and he wanted to meet her outside of the safety of her journal.
 

The thought of meeting him terrified her — but not because he scared her. That wasn’t the problem. She was
so scared
of being vulnerable again. She had worked so damn hard to keep that from happening. And she was scared because she
wanted
to meet him. Allowing herself the potential to feel something, even something good, made her want to shrink back into the chasm and stay there.

She held back the sobs threatening to rack her body and pulled out her cell phone. She texted Scott and told him she wasn't going to be in to work. She went straight home and locked her door.
 

Erin dropped down onto her couch and started to sob. She never told anyone what happened at that party with the exception of the psychologist she saw. She was too ashamed and embarrassed to tell her family. She tried to tell a roommate from school about how terrified she was, but that “friend” had simply waved off her story as if what happened were no big deal.
 

"It's not like he actually raped you," she said dismissively. That much was true, but the fear had changed her none the less. That conversation with her friend left her feeling even more broken. Maybe she was just a whiney drama-queen, and not a real victim.
 

Either way, Erin was left trusting no one, including herself. Her only realistic option was to shut down. She let her fear become an all-consuming habit ever since. And now here was Marcus and her notebook drudging the ugliness back up. Erin needed to shut down again; shutting everything out was the best way she knew how to deal. She called in sick to work for a few days; she needed to be alone.
 

She wanted to cry, and she did not want to sob like a pathetic victim in front of Marcus, no matter how much experience he had in such matters. She wanted to blame him for these tears, even though she knew he wasn’t at fault. Like a coward, she couldn't face him, so she didn't. So much for all that strength Marcus saw in her.
 

Marcus anxiously went to Erin's desk that night, dying to find out if she would meet him. They had only been writing to each other for about three months, but he knew her completely.
 

She trusted him with cherished memories and greatest fears. She joked with him and talked about everything and sometimes nothing. Being with his newest and probably best friend would be the most natural thing in the world, and he would comfort her while she tried to deal with the horror she pushed down for five years.
 

He showed her every side of himself, even confessing his rage. She understood almost everything, and had accepted what she didn't understand. He was fairly confident that he would get to meet her, comfort her.
 

His heart raced at the thought. He wanted nothing more than to hold her...both to comfort her and to feel her soft, warm, and safe in his arms. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to be near her.
 

He walked to her desk and froze. His heart stopped when he saw the empty corner of her desk.
Damn it!
She didn’t leave him a response. For the first time in months, she kept the notebook from him. He must have scared her. That was the last thing he wanted.
Damn it all!
Why did he ask to meet her? The request was too soon and she was still too scared of everyone.
 

What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he do that to her?
Damn it!
He felt like punching the wall, but he kept his rage down. He wouldn't risk scaring her again, even though she wasn’t here to watch him. He controlled himself for her.
 

Hanging his head, he went back to start his custodial rounds. He debated with himself about leaving her a note, but decided against it. If she needed some space or just some time, he would give her whatever she required. She was precious to him, and no matter how badly he wanted to talk with her again, she clearly didn't want to. The decision to connect again had to be up to her. He wouldn't force himself on her in any way. Not ever.
 

He left the office building that night an absolute wreck. He couldn't help but think about Erin and what she was feeling, knowing there was nothing he could do to help. The next day dragged on through his very distracted training session and a fitful sleep on his couch. He could only focus on his need to get back to her cubicle and see if the notebook had made its way back to him.
 

He entered the office building and went straight to cubicle 15. The notebook still wasn't there — but other things were. Her desk was piling up with file folders, memos, hand-written post-its requesting certain files, etc. Fear set in when he realized Erin hadn't been to work.
 

He forced himself to breathe calmly and reason with himself. She could be sick, or maybe decided to take some time to go visit her family. But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself those were possibilities, the less likely those possibilities seemed. His gut told him something was wrong, and he was the one at fault. Damn it all, again.

Two more days of no Erin at the office, and Marcus was in a complete panic. There was no more reasoning, no more rationalizations. He needed to know if Erin was ok. So like a complete bastard, he went through her desk to find out where she lived. He wouldn't bother her, but he needed to check on her. No one else was looking out for Erin. That was his self-appointed job, and he took his position very seriously. In the back of the top drawer, he found an old birthday card from her parents that Erin apparently brought to work.
 

The card still rested in the torn-open envelope, still with her home address printed on the front. Around 7 a.m. he got in his car. Marcus had to know she was ok. He stopped at home for a quick shower, threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, and headed off in the direction of Erin’s apartment.
 

Sunshine was already brightening the August Friday morning when he pulled up to her townhouse in an apartment complex. The cluster of buildings was a quaint little place that seemed to fit her perfectly. Her home was classy, not overly-ritzy, and comfortable looking.
 

Marcus relaxed a bit when he saw the place. These were good surroundings for her, safe. But he still needed to know that she was alright. He had no idea how badly he scared her. She didn't seem the type to be suicidal, but he had to make sure she wasn’t that far down.
 

Either way, Erin was hurting because of him. He sat in his car for a while, feeling like the damn stalker that he was, hoping to see signs of life from the apartment. He had no idea how long he had sat there when he saw her from the little window that looked into the kitchen from the front of the townhouse. She poured herself a cup of coffee, wiped at her eyes with a tissue, and blew her nose.
 

He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw her walking around, but his chest tightened when he saw her crying. In spite of all the emotions he was feeling in this crazy situation, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was with her messy curls falling along her shoulders, and how graceful and strong her body looked in her favorite cotton outfit he recognized from her notes. All resolve to leave her alone left his brain. He stepped out of his car and to her front door.

Erin heard a knock at her door and rolled her eyes. How early do packages get delivered? She was expecting a box today, but at 8:30 a.m.? Geez.
 

She blew her nose one more time and blotted her tears. She didn't really care what a mess she was, she just knew she couldn't do anything about her unkempt appearance for the delivery guy. He could think whatever he wanted. Erin reached for the door and opened it.
 

There was a man there, leaning his hands against the door frame. Her jaw dropped when she realized she was looking directly at Marcus. She didn't know how she knew this stranger was him; she just did. His face showed such a mixture of concern, guilt, embarrassment, anguish, and other emotions she didn't have words for. He was so intense, standing there, worried about her. He cared that she was hurting.

He looked like a safe harbor after a horrible storm.
 

Before she realized what she was doing, she moved forward and rested her head on his chest. She balled up her fists and tucked herself into the only person she felt close to. His arms immediately wrapped around her protectively and she sobbed.
 

They stood in her doorway for who knows how long before he gently picked her up and cradled her to his chest. He carried her inside, kicked the door shut behind him and settled on the couch, still holding her like a child. She continued to cry against him, not even knowing why.
 

Well, that wasn't really true. She had five years of frustration and sadness pent up inside of her. She hadn't so much as hugged another person since that stupid party, and the genuine warmth of this embrace opened the flood gates completely. This was her first real connection in years and she was overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry," she choked out between sobs.

He only rubbed her back and kissed her head in response. This sent her into more sobs that he caught in his shirt. To comfort her more, he pulled her gently tighter against him and threaded his fingers up into her hair against the back of her neck. His arms felt so incredibly strong around her, and completely safe.
 

And most surprisingly, she had no fear with Marcus in her house. She knew him and trusted him. Now that she could feel his physical self, too, she was lost to him completely. Just as overwhelming as the emotion was the instant physical attraction. Her body reacted to his with butterflies in her chest.
 

She felt like a fool with all of her blubbering, but she couldn't stop. She had been too closed off for too long. The safe walls around her emotions were crumbling at an alarming rate, but right now that didn't matter because Marcus was there, being strong for her.
 

After nearly a half hour of being held, Erin finally cried herself out. Right on cue, Marcus handed her a fresh tissue to wipe away the last of her tears. He really was good at this, she thought.

“I’m such a mess," she said apologetically.

“I’ve seen worse," Marcus said with a smile. He kissed her on top of her head again to show that he didn't care.

"I have to ask," Erin started. "How did you find me?"

"Wasn't too hard," Marcus admitted sheepishly. "I went through your desk until I found something with your address on it."

"How do you even have access to my desk? How did you ever come across my journal in the first place? I know you don't work at my firm, and I don't recognize you as a client. I haven’t even seen you in the elevator.”

He grinned. "Janitor."
 

Erin's eyes grew wide. "Seriously?? I can't believe I never thought of that."

"No one ever does. We get ignored a lot," he said with a big grin.

"I've been pouring my heart out to a fighting janitor," she said, now laughing at the thought. "That's not a sentence you hear every day."

They were both grinning now and Erin became acutely aware that she was still sitting on his lap and in his arms. She about jumped away from him under the guise of offering him a cup of coffee.
 

"Sure," he said, obviously comfortable and relaxed. He had such an air of confidence about him, but absolutely no arrogance. He knew why he was there, and was completely fine with his role. She envied him that kind of strength. But then she remembered how hard he worked to gain that strength, and squared her shoulders to emulate it.
 

As she was working on brewing a fresh pot of coffee for them to share, she kept glancing over at Marcus sitting on her couch. He was easily over six feet tall, and he was incredibly hard-muscled. Every single line of his body was defined in a perfectly-toned and rock-solid physique. He was an Adonis, without question.