My Alpha, My Bodyguard

4.3 Marcus

Nevertheless, Marcus was aware of the necessity of those patches. Rogues, wild omegas, and feral shifters especially were known to attack even members of their own packs and families, let alone strangers attempting to subdue them. Hell, the bear shifter himself had made ample use of those during his less…lawful occupations, but it was another thing to be on the receiving end of the subterfuge.

“I’m also sorry about Darryl,” Carlson nudged his apparent protégé who had gone extremely pale, which was impressive considering his already bloodless complexion. “He’s new on the beat and still needs to learn the ropes. Moved here from way up north, I think, and he hasn’t met that many shifters.”

With some effort, Marcus forced his teeth back into a blunter and more human shape. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” he muttered.

“Hm?” Vivienne blinked, looking between the men. Her cheeks went red at the sudden attention, and she quickly waved her hands. “No, no harm done please! As long as we can keep this whole debacle quiet, that’s enough for me!”

“No problem,” Carlson nodded sharply, still maintaining their demeanor of stoic professionalism. “It’s also my fault for not introducing myself properly. Officer Carlson, beta of the Blackmoon family. I wasn’t made aware of any shifters of your…type. You are…?”

Had Marcus not spent many years learning to control himself, he was certain his hackles would have risen extra high at the almost condescending cadence of Carlson’s voice. “Marcus. Riviera,” he replied stiffly. “I made my greetings to the Blackmoons last month.”

“Right, right,” Carlson nodded, his wispy blonde eyebrows furrowing between his eyes. If not for the slight brown tan of his skin from being outdoors, the strands would have been nigh invisible. “Only, we were told that the only bear shifter in the city ought to have left 24 hours ago. What are you still doing here, Mr. Riviera? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

I do mind, Marcus grimaced. Vivienne cleared her throat pointedly. “Sorry to interject, especially as all of this is going far over my head,” she said, “but Marcus is acting as my bodyguard for the foreseeable future. Whoever the Blackmoon family are, they can speak to me about the whereabouts of my employee instead of hassling him. Are we clear?”

It was so innocuous, Marcus thought as his head spun. It wasn’t as though she’d declared him to be her mate, and yet his heartbeat kicked up so obviously that even Carlson shot him a concerned stare. The man’s eyes flickered between the two of them before finally looking at Vivienne with more than just a vague, passing interest.

The divot between his brows became deeper, and then his eyes widened in recognition. “Mrs. Hardison? Mrs. Vivienne Hardison?!”

The smile that she flashed was three parts professional politeness, and one part clear irritation. “If we could not shout my name so loudly, that would be wonderful,” she hissed. “I have enough on my plate without more drama.”

“Of course, of course!” Carlson fumbled for words, almost losing his grip on his cellphone. Lightning fast reflexes meant that he managed to catch it before the suspiciously expensive model cracked against the asphalt. “You have our deepest apologies, Mrs. Hardison! Uh, if you could um…not mention my associate’s behaviour to your husband–”

“Well, if you manage to take our statements and call a taxi for us sometime in the next ten minutes, I’ll consider not getting you fired for this particular breach of ethics,” Vivienne replied stiffly, and it was only the rapid pitter-pat of her heartbeat that told Marcus that she was quite scared. The brave, brash, confident sneer was only a front and he couldn’t help but squeeze her thigh comfortingly; a reminder that he was right there with her.

To his delight, she pressed into the sensation, seemingly without consciously thinking about it. Unhesitatingly seeking his warmth and his touch like he was someone she trusted unflinchingly.

Of course she trusts you, his thoughts sneered. She has to. You’re protecting her. She’s reliant on you, and you want to take advantage of her fear?

The thought tripped him up, cut the wave of glee right out from under his feet. God, this was just like back then, the first time he’d met her. Just on the cusp of being 30 and terrified of overstepping his boundaries, of coming off as the creepy old man leering at the barely legal waitress who’d smiled at him during one of the worst nights of his life. So scared of making a fool of himself and scaring away such a pretty young thing that he’d done nothing at all, putting her in the path of men like Liam Hardison.

Tearing his mind away from such dour memories, Marcus refocused on the lingering police officers. In their rush, the on-scene reports only took a little less than five minutes and there really wasn’t much to be said. Neither of them knew who had planted the bomb in the engine, only that it must have been after Marcus had parked the car at the store. Thus, most of the time after the event summary was spent grilling Marcus.

Did you smell anything off? No.

Did you see anything suspicious? No.

Were you with Mrs. Hardison in the store? Yes, the store cameras have evidence of the two of us entering and exiting the store. I never left her side.

“Well then,” Carlson relented after a few more minutes of hemming and hawing. “I think we’ve got everything we need for now. We’ll contact you if any new information arises from the forensics.”

“Mm,” Marcus hummed, already knowing that there wouldn’t be anything left once the fire went out. Nothing more than smoking, melted steel and crumbling leather. Wisely he kept his mouth shut as Vivienne – now on her own two feet after sharply worded demand – handed the primary officers her phone number and address details for any future follow-up. “We should go now.”

“Right. My partner can escort Mrs. Hardison to the main road to flag down a taxi,” Carlson nodded at the still skittish-looking Darryl. The man quickly straightened his back and gestured for Vivienne to follow him, but she hung back with a worried scowl.

“Is there a reason you have to detain my guard?” She demanded, planting her hands on her hips with her spine ramrod straight. “Because anything you have to say to him, you can say in front of me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t, Mrs. Hardison,” Carlson replied, hurrying to explain when her expression became even more thunderous. “It’s shifter business, Mrs. Hardison. The Blackmoon pack’s affairs are private to outsiders, especially non-shifters. This is a piece of protocol that I cannot waive.”

“But-but he’s injured!” She snapped and pointed at Marcus. “He got burned by the explosion! We need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible, and you’re obstructing that!”

She was trying so hard to extract him from the situation, and Marcus appreciated it, but he couldn’t keep dodging the Blackmoons forever. It was lucky enough that they’d allowed him to exist within their territory for the past month without demanding he perform some ‘freelance’ work for them, he didn’t want to drag Vivienne into their sights.

“Vivienne, it’s fine,” Marcus interjected, and turned around to show her his perfectly healed back. Smooth and mostly unblemished, aside from a few red splotches where the skin was still a little inflamed. “Bear shifter, remember? We heal very quickly.”

“Exactly,” Carlson nodded swiftly. “Besides, it’s nothing particularly serious. We’ll have him back to you in less than two minutes.”

Dark eyes narrowed seriously, and Vivienne finally relented with a sharp nod. “You’d better. If not, I’ll be sure to file a report about this with whoever signs your paychecks.”