It looked like the man was going to argue but Zeke didn’t wait around to hear the issues the bodyguard would bring up. He had to get Marissa out of there. His personal guards were becoming anxious which meant that they knew something they couldn’t tell him around Marissa.
After a reassuring nod and a smile of agreement, Zeke led Marissa back out of the hospital. He got her back into the protection of his limousine as quickly as possible, needing her safe. He caught Dave’s eye a moment before he ducked into the car and nodded. Dave understood the message and instantly reacted to the unspoken communication.
Marissa watched the interaction between Zeke and the unnamed man and she knew something was terribly wrong. “What’s going on?” she demanded as soon as Zeke was sitting next to her again.
Zeke took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I just want you safe,” was all he would say.
After a lifetime of living with secrets, she knew something was significantly wrong. She considered her words carefully, trying to figure out what she could say that would reassure him that she could handle whatever was happening. She didn’t know what was going on, what his perception of their relationship might be or what their future might hold, but she didn’t want any secrets between them.
Then again, did she really want to start an argument with him? If she only had a small amount of time with Zeke, did she want to spend that time arguing with him? Even if he was gallantly trying to protect her?
Thinking that she needed to know information more than she needed to keep the peace, she squared her shoulders and faced him, trying to put as much confidence and assurance into her tone so he would understand that she was fully capable of handling whatever was on the horizon. “Zeke, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.
Zeke looked down at his new wife and felt his chest expand with pride. She was beautiful, intelligent, compassionate and kind. She loved her sister who was trying to protect and heal a stranger. What had these two women dealt with while growing up in the household of Joe Berutelli? He couldn’t imagine how such a messed up childhood had created caring, loyal sisters. Zeke never wanted her to have to go through anything like that again.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he caressed her cheek gently. He glanced out of the window and nodded to his thanks to his driver who had maneuvered around the busy Chicago streets in record time. “We’re here.”
Marissa wanted to pull him back and demand answers. She was thoroughly sick of being told that they were some place and then being dragged out of the limousine without any explanation of where they were or what they were doing, why they were here and, more importantly, what the rush was all about. She knew it was because of her father and the very possible threat of whatever retribution he might pass along because of the morning’s events. But since no one was talking to her and explaining, she could only go with her imagination. That was probably scaring her more than the reality could.
Or maybe not. She’d passed by the stranger’s room and he’d looked pretty badly beaten with his face mostly purple from his recent pummeling, not to mention all the bandages covering various parts of his body.
She shivered at the horror of what the poor man must have endured.
“What’s wrong?” Zeke demanded, obviously having felt the shiver as he pulled her along behind him. They were standing in an elevator going up to the roof for some reason. “Are you okay?” he asked, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw.
“I’m fine. When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Never?” he suggested with a twinkle in his dark eyes.
She pulled back, shaking her head. “Not a good answer,” she countered. “Tell me what’s happening and maybe I can help.”
He looked like he was considering her comment, taking her seriously. But the moment he seemed like he was going to say something to her, the elevator doors opened. “Let’s get out of here,” he said instead of whatever he was going to tell her.
Marissa hesitated at that moment but he pulled her along behind him anyway. That was when she realized what was waiting for them. When she saw the small helicopter that was already prepped with the pilot standing beside the machine with the door open, she dug her heels in.
“I’m not getting into that machine,” she said with a very firm voice. She didn’t look up at Zeke, just stood there on the windy roof of the building with her arms crossed, glaring at the helicopter.
Zeke stopped and turned around, looking at her as if he wanted to laugh. Fortunately, he held his humor at bay when he realized that she was genuinely nervous about getting into the machine. “Are you afraid of flying, Marissa?”
She looked up at him, stubbornness showing in every cell of her body. “I’m not afraid of flying in an airplane. But that is not an airplane.” He’d tricked her into the marriage thing, there was no way he would trick her into getting into that machine.
Zeke realized that she was genuinely terrified and felt horrible that he had to force her into this situation. “If I promise to get you through this, that you’ll be okay and that this is a very short flight, will that help?”
She was already shaking her head. “There’s nothing you can do that will get me through that flight. I’ve never been in a helicopter and there’s nothing you can do to get me onto this one.”
Zeke smiled, eager to take on the challenge Marissa had just tossed down. “Is that a fact?” he asked softly.
Marissa wanted to back up, but the elevator door had already closed behind her. “Zeke, if this is a short flight, then it’s probably a short drive as well and we can get there just as easily in a car.” She was starting to wonder just who was more stubborn; her or Zeke. She was terrified that he might win this one. How could he do that though? She didn’t think he would toss her over his shoulder and stuff her in there. He was too kind and gentle for that.
Wasn’t he?
Zeke brutally suppressed the fear for her safety in order to address her fears as much as possible. But if it came down to protecting her from harm, he would carry her in and strap her down. He kept an eye on his bodyguard who had an earpiece that communicated any threats from the street.
With a patience he didn’t know he had, he stood in front of her and spoke calmly. “It’s a short flight because we’ll be flying over buildings to get to our destination,” he explained as he reached out, easily reaching her even when she tried to twist out of his arms. With his strong arms wrapped around her waist, he felt her shivers and his compassion increased. But his need to protect her from the very real threat of her father overrode the comparably less likely threat of the helicopter crashing. He paid this pilot very well and knew him to be an extremely adept pilot so he had no concerns about taking Marissa in the air in this machine.