2. Marco

2

MARCO

I could fix anything.

From the time I turned three, my parents told me I had a knack for working with my hands. I’d take things apart and put them back together, and I’d do it just for fun.

The older I got, the more refined my skills became. I had an affinity for LEGO building, and when I was old enough to drive, I loved working on my car.

I enjoyed construction.

I thrived when it came to troubleshooting. Problem-solving was one of my favorite things, and I always liked a challenge.

All of that contributed to me winding up where I was now. It was also likely the reason I loved my job so much. That, and the fact I got to work with my best friend at his family’s business. Cooper was the head of maintenance and operations at Westwood’s, and I had been with him from the start, working as his right-hand man. And while it was rare for it to happen, if he ever had a day when he couldn’t be at work—like when he’d recently gone on his honeymoon—I easily stepped into his role and got things done.

Cooper Westwood and I had known each other for as long as I could remember. In fact, I found it difficult to recall a time in my life when Cooper and the rest of the Westwoods weren’t in it.

As someone who already had a big family, I considered myself incredibly lucky to have met Cooper and have his family welcome me into theirs the way they had. I liked being part of their family as much as I liked my own.

But in all the years that I’d been working to repair things, of all the tasks I’d ever had to complete, I hadn’t ever reached a point when I didn’t think I’d be able to fix something.

Until now.

Until I walked into this hotel suite, prepared to finish my last task of the day before I went home.

Until I stopped just inside the door and saw my best friend’s little sister like I’d never seen her before.

I felt a mix of rage and powerlessness at what I saw—her clothes in tatters, her face swollen and bloody, her body trembling, and her expression laced with terror.

Ivy Westwood.

A woman I’d always seen as so strong-willed, fiery, loyal, and hardworking. A woman with a bright spirit and gorgeous personality. A woman I was suddenly feeling the overwhelming desire to protect and take care of.

“Ivy,” I said softly. “What happened?”

Her bottom lip trembled, her eyes frantically searching my face. Ivy’s skin was flushed, her hand gripping her shirt at the center of her chest. It was clear she was on the verge of a complete breakdown, so I set aside the tools I’d brought with me just in front of the door and moved in her direction.

I got there in time to wrap my arms around her and pull her close. That’s when she lost it. Ivy’s body was wracked by uncontrollable sobs, and she clung to me like she was afraid I might vanish if she let me go.

It was such a stark contrast and deviation from the woman she’d always been around me.

And though I desperately wanted to know what had happened to her, who had done this to her, Ivy was barely able to get a full breath in. All I could do in that moment was find comfort in the fact she was here now and that she was safe.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but it had been a long while that I held Ivy in a protective embrace as she cried and fought to regain control of her emotions. She’d taken in several shuddering breaths and eventually loosened her grip on me.

Taking half a step back, she looked at me briefly before she lowered her gaze to the ground. Her voice was just a touch over a whisper when she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

I reached for her, my hand coming to rest at her elbow. Her hand was still clutching her torn shirt at the center of her chest. “You have nothing to apologize for, Ivy. What happened? Who hurt you?”

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she lifted them to meet mine. “I don’t know. I don’t know who he was.”

I didn’t know why there was a part of me that was surprised by her response. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I had been expecting Ivy was going to tell me I’d gotten it wrong. That nobody had done this to her. Though it looked awful, I was hoping she would tell me that she’d hurt herself when she took up another one of her classes, like she’d been doing for at least a year now.

That she’d just confirmed some guy she didn’t know had done this to her, I was suddenly on edge. My jaw clenched painfully, a vain attempt to suppress the rage that was building inside me.

I focused that rage on inspecting her for injuries, on trying to assess just how bad this was.

“Someone did this to you? Where were you?”

“I was… I was going to a woodcarving class,” she confessed, her body still quaking. “I was downtown, walking from my car to the class, when this guy showed up out of nowhere and dragged me down a side street.”

It was a real effort not to react the way everything inside me was screaming to. My eyes took in the cuts and blood on her face, the bruising around her throat, and the state of her clothing once more.

My chest tightened painfully. If this woman had been violated, I was going to lose my mind. “What did he do to you?”

She swallowed hard. “At first, I thought he just wanted my purse. I gave it to him. I just didn’t want him to hurt me. But then he… then he…” Her lips trembled again. “He groped me, and he wasn’t gentle about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if my breasts are bruised for how hard he squeezed me.”

Jesus. She’d not only been robbed, but she’d been physically assaulted. Sexually assaulted. “I’m so sorry, Ivy. Did he… did he…” I trailed off, unable to get the words out. “What else did he do?”

She closed her eyes, her body shaking uncontrollably again. Ivy seemed to be in a state of shock, and I wasn’t quite sure it was safe for her to still be standing. So, I lifted her in my arms and carried her deeper into the suite toward the living area. I sat down, settling her body right beside mine, and I took her hand in mine, hoping it’d offer her some comfort.

Following several moments of heartbreaking silence, Ivy shared, “I shoved my knee into his groin, and it was enough for me to get away. But he caught up to me and threw me to the ground. I landed on piles of trash bags on the street. And that’s when he brought his body over mine, choked me with one hand, and unbuttoned my jeans with the other.”

I couldn’t imagine the sheer terror Ivy must have felt when this was happening to her. Anger was bubbling up inside me with each word she spoke, and my thumb began stroking over the skin on the back of her hand somewhere in the middle of her relaying the story. I wondered if that move was meant to be something to comfort her or me.

“I thought I was going to die, Marco,” she rasped, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I thought I was going to die, naked and alone on the sidewalk in a pile of trash.”

Ivy was teetering on the edge of another breakdown, and I couldn’t bear to see her go through that again. So, I lifted both of my hands to either side of her face. Gently, I urged her to look at me, and when I had her gaze focused on my face, I said, “You didn’t. You didn’t die, Ivy. You’re here, and you’re going to be okay. I’m going to make sure you’re okay. Do you trust me?”

Sadness and hurt and devastation marred her expression, but none of that stopped Ivy from giving me a nod. “Yes.”

“Tell me what happened next,” I urged her, bringing one hand back to hold hers as the fingers on my opposite hand drifted back into her hair, brushing it away from the sides of her face.

Ivy went on to tell me how, believing she was on the verge of passing out from a lack of oxygen, she succeeded in getting her attacker off her. How she got herself free, slammed her foot into his groin, and got away.

Just over a year ago, my own sister had been robbed, and that had been traumatizing enough. It had taken her some time to get through it, so I could only imagine how Ivy being physically assaulted the way she had been was going to impact her. I hated it for her.

Even still, regardless of the time it took her to move past this, I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t proud of her for doing what she had to do to protect herself, to get away from the guy who’d attacked her.

“Can I take you to the hospital to get checked out?” I asked her.

Ivy shook her head. “No. No, Marco. I’m going to be okay.”

“I know you are, but I still think it might be wise to get yourself looked at,” I returned.

“I’d rather not. Please,” she begged.

“What about the police? Can I take you to the police station, so you can report what happened? I can call them and have them come here.”

She was silent a long time before she replied, “I know I need to report this, but can it wait until the morning? I don’t want to leave now, and if we call them to come here, everyone is going to know what happened.”

I wasn’t sure it was the wisest idea to wait, but I refused to force Ivy to do anything before she was ready. “Okay. How can I help you tonight? Do you want me to call your mom or your sister?”

“If that guy followed me, they wouldn’t be safe,” she reasoned. “I understand if you need to go, though. Maybe I can call Liam to come stay with me. It’s not like he isn’t already here in the hotel, anyway.”

Liam was her younger brother. I didn’t doubt he would be here in a heartbeat if he knew what had happened to his sister. But I worried that Ivy believed I needed someone else to come here because I didn’t want to be here. That simply wasn’t the case.

“Ivy, I don’t have to go anywhere,” I assured her. “I can stay with you for as long as you like. I just want you to be comfortable, to feel safe. If me staying here with you will accomplish that, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Are you sure?”

I dipped my chin. “Absolutely.”

She closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Marco.”

“Whatever you need, I’ve got you covered. Okay?” Standing, I reached my hand out to her. Ivy hesitated for just a moment before she placed her hand in mine and allowed me to lead her away from the living area and toward the bathroom.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’m going to get your face cleaned up for you, so I can see how bad these cuts are.” I put my hands on her hips and lifted her onto the counter beside the sink. I flipped on the warm water, grabbed a clean washcloth, and focused my attention back on Ivy while I waited for the water to heat up.

Something passed between us. A lingering look of appreciation on her end, perhaps? On my side, I wasn’t quite sure I could explain it. I’d known Ivy for years, had seen her almost daily, yet it was like I was seeing her for the first time now.

Ivy held my stare briefly, but ultimately looked away when it got too intense. She focused on her torn shirt, pulling at the sides to cover her exposed body. Not thinking twice about it, I lifted my shirt over my head and held it out to her. “Go ahead and take that off. You can wear this for now.”

“But you?—”

“I’m fine, Ivy. I want you to be comfortable. I have extras in my truck.”

Following a tense moment of silence, Ivy took the shirt from me. As she peeled off her ruined shirt, I focused my attention on running the washcloth beneath the warm water. By the time I’d squeezed out the excess water and looked over at Ivy again, she’d gotten my shirt pulled on.

I offered a small smile as she said, “Thank you, Marco.”

Lifting the cloth to her face, I replied, “Don’t mention it.”

For the next few minutes, I worked in silence on cleaning the blood from Ivy’s face. And while I was enraged that she’d been assaulted at all, I was relieved to see that the cuts were minor enough to not need stitches.

“We should probably get some ointment on these cuts,” I suggested. “I can run down and grab it from one of the first-aid kits. And while I’m down there, I can run out and grab a T-shirt or two from my truck.”

In a move I hadn’t been expecting, Ivy’s hand immediately shot out and seized my wrist. I stopped my inspection of her face and sent her a questioning look. “What is it?”

She considered her response and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me,” I urged her. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“I… I don’t want to be left alone,” she murmured. “And I know that’s stupid, but I’m just not ready to be alone.”

Any of the rage that had been bubbling inside me from the moment I learned the truth about what happened to her had vanished. I didn’t think it was because I wasn’t still livid that she’d gone through this. Rather, I realized my focus had to be on Ivy and what she needed now. If that meant not leaving her side until she was comfortable with it, then that’s what I’d do. “Okay. I’ll stay here. I can call down to the front desk and tell them I was working on the dryer in here and need a couple of bandages. They’ll bring me the kit without thinking twice about it.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind staying?”

I cupped the side of her face, my palm pressed lightly against her jaw. As my thumb stroked tenderly over the soft, uninjured skin there, I promised, “Not at all.”

Ivy seemed to lean into my touch, like it was exactly what she needed in that moment to feel safe and protected.

“Your hands,” she whimpered.

I froze, my body going taut as I pulled my hand away, believing she didn’t want to be touched.

Ivy’s horror-stricken gaze met mine. Her bottom lip quivered as tears filled her eyes. “Your hands are clean and safe and familiar,” she rasped. “I feel dirty. Dirty from the trash pile he threw me on and from where his filthy hands touched me. It feels wrong. It feels gross.”

If I ever saw this guy, if I ever had the chance to be alone with him in a room for even a minute, I was going to make him wish he’d never laid a finger on this beautiful woman. “Do you want a bath or a shower? You can wash all of that off. I’ll wait just outside the door for you.”

“You won’t leave, will you?”

“No, Ivy, I’m not leaving you. I promise.”

Her eyes roamed over my face, something I couldn’t quite read swirling in the depths of her blue irises. Maybe it was that she had far too many emotions moving through her that there wasn’t just one that could make its way to the surface.

“I think it might help to shower,” she said.

I smiled reassuringly at her. “Okay. Is there anything you want me to do, other than to wait for you to finish?”

She shook her head.

“What about food? Have you had any dinner?”

“No.”

I jerked my chin down. “Alright. You take your shower, take your time, and I’ll get you some dinner. If you need me, you just yell, okay?”

“Okay.”

After giving her one last reassuring look, I stepped back and moved toward the door. I was just about to walk through when she called my name.

“Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here with me, for looking after me tonight.”

My stomach pitched uncomfortably, but I tried not to let it show. My mouth curved into a smile. “It doesn’t end here, Ivy. Whenever you need me, you’ve got me. I hope you know that.”

She bit her lip nervously, her chest rising and falling rapidly with the increased pace of her breaths. Then she gave me a nod and eased herself off the sink.

That’s when I backed out of the bathroom and closed the door. I got to work on making sure Ivy would have everything she needed to get through the night.