Chapter 10

'Even God Forgives'

The words were angrily written in red lipstick on the wall above Mac's bed. Her bedroom was torn apart; mainly her clothing which was strewn all over along with one or two of mine. Yeah, we'd gotten to the point where some of my things were there and several of hers were in my place.

I glance up to the window separating our offices and find hers dark as my stubborn Marine remained at her apartment, alone trying to put it back together after some son of a bitch tore her bedroom apart. Her bedroom and nothing else.

Had it not been for the blotches in the red markings I would have thought it were blood. Coster did too which is why he sent in a team to check for 'bodily substances.' I cringe thinking of how they checked her bed for semen - apparently some stalkers were perverse enough to leave their 'mark.'

Thankfully, there was nothing there and after a thorough combing through her apartment Coster asks a question that made me freeze. "Is there anyone else in your life Mac? Even someone you merely fantasize about?"

I turned abruptly, unable to stop myself from looking towards Mac praying I didn't tip our hand. Our relationship is not public knowledge, a mutual decision made by both of us mainly because Mac's break from Lowne was so sudden. She didn't want anyone to think badly of her or me. And I confess I'm enjoying the exclusivity.

"No. No one." She never made eye contact with me simply stared at the words with an unreadable expression. Her lie actually hurt me although I understood the reasoning behind it. Having her admit she had no one while I stood so close to her was heartbreaking.

"You shouldn't stay here tonight, Major."

"Rabb's right." Coster agreed and I swore he was about to offer her a place to stay when Mac flips on 'Marine Mode.'

"This is my home. No one is making me run away from it." I felt her glaring before I saw it, her eyes squaring and daring me to challenge her. I didn't and as I sit here behind my desk I wonder why I didn't argue.

The file currently on my computer is a blur and all attempts to focus are thwarted by my wayward thoughts which drift to Diane. Did she run away from her attacker? Did she try to hide? Did she know him? My fists clench and unclench as the images of her in a bodybag with a single shot to the chest pass through my mind.

She didn't deserve that and I hate that I can't fix it. I hate that I can't bring her back. Diane's gone and with her my chances to save her. But, I can save Mac. I can watch over Mac who is alive and well although I left her.

I left because she asked me to, wanted to be alone while she put her apartment back together again. And I left because I was too stupid to rwalize this was a fight I needed to get into with her.

Coster asked Mac if she had a weapon and when she answered to the affirmative a sly smile spread on his lips. I don't like the guy and felt more put off every second he stood in Mac's apartment asking her personal questions. The creep factor shot up as he leered at her.

"You're staying with me." I was in the kitchen preparing some chamomile tea after the police left. She changed into civvies, a simple USMC sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up and cotton shorts that looked far too cute on her.

"Even God Forgives."

"Mac…"

She leaned against a counter and sighed. "Dalton said something like that over the phone."

"What? Oh…" I rush past her, ignoring the screaming tea kettle and head straight to her phone. Upon dismantling it I find a flat monitoring device and mouth the word 'Bug' as I raise it up for her to see. We stare at each other in disbelief and I'm stricken by the notion that her stalker possibly knows about us.

The feeling of being violated fuels a growing anger inside as we rush outside with the listening device in my hand. Mac takes it from me, purging it from my finger and then stomps on it with the ball of her shoe. "Mac! No. Damnit, you busted up our only evidence."

"It's probably not the only one in there." She stares up at the window with disgust and sighs. "I'm gonna turn my place upside down, I'll find every last one."

"What then?" Mac's pacing back and forth in the most manic of fashions. It's disconcerting and she only atopa when I stand in her way. "Mac. Talk to me."

She looks up at me with the saddest of expressions, pained because what Mac says next hurts. It hurt just as bad as a break up would. "You can't be here. We can't be together right now."

"Mac, what…"

"Coster is right, Harm. Whoever is watching if they heard...They know about you and me." Mac's shoulders slump, that ever present Marine demeanor crumbles as well." You have to go...Get out of here...You can't get hurt because of me."

"I'm not scared and I'm not leaving you." I try to take her into my arms but she resists, pushing me back with a force not even I knew she could muster. "God damnit, Mac. I lost Diane to a stalker, I'm not gonna lose you too!"

Her name slips past my lips easily, too easy and I realize my mistake even before Mac turns to face me. Her face contorts in an absolute expression of pain and something else: disappointment. "It's always about her. You'll never not see her."

"It's not about that."

Every argument I could possibly offer dies when she turns and starts up the steps to the building. "Just go...Go back to work. I have a weapon, I'll be fine."

Pinching the bridge of my nose does nothing to stifle the growing headache. Our client that is sitting in front of me joking about the woman who made accusations against him makes me want to hurdle the desk and beat him until there's nothing left.

Mac disliked him and now that we are only two boys in the room the Chief feels the need to he graphic, trying to buddy up to me about how good the hooker was. I find myself disgusted, ashamed because these were details I once happily discussed with my fellow jet jocks while on deployment.

That crass, chauvinistic, male speak that my mother would have beat me for even at this age. "That Major of yours, she's got killer legs. I tell you, Commander, letting women in the military has been…"

I don't let him finish, don't even care if he has anything positive to say about the fairer sex. Without warning, I pounce on him grabbing the Chief by the lapels of his Navy blues. "What ever thought you have about the Major or any woman in general you are going to stow immediately if not I'm going to forget that I'm an officer and happily be charged for conduct unbecoming, am I clear, Chief?"

His eyes are wide with fear and anger and it crosses my mind that this piece of shit works in surveillance. The bastard knows how to build listening devices, plant them and use them to the best of his abilities. What's more, he and Mac never saw eye to eye.

Her innate need to protect women from abuse and not have them suffer like her mother did prevented her from seeing him as anything other than a monster. Mac claimed to zealously defend him, the military officer in her would follow every order to the end. But the woman in her… "Did you do it Chief?"

I've barely released him when my grip tightens again. "Tell me you didn't buy her apartment. Tell me you aren't that much of a perverse son of a bitch."

His hands clamp over mind trying to pull them off of him. It only angers me more until he winds up on the ground with my knee on his chest. "Whatever you think you know you're wrong. I like women but, I respect them, sir. You're wrong about me, let me prove it."

I let him go, surprised no one but Bud has caught the scuffle. He wisely moves on but I know that soon he'll want answers that aren't mine to give. "Someone put a bug on her phone."

The remnants are still in my pocket and after helping him up I hold them out in the palm of my hand. He takes the fragments and studies them under the light from my desk lamp. "Are you sure you can get me off the hook? You and the Major, I mean?"

"We're the best. That's why we were assigned to your case." Some of his work went hand in hand with SEAL teams and the CIA. He was an asset to his country and the acxusarion of beating and raping a prostitue would dewtroy our alliance. "What do you see?"

"This is something old like the kind of surveillance the police would use." He hands me the pieces and leans against my desk, that cocky demeanor he just can't help slides back into place. A chill runs down my spine and the very first thing that crosses my mind is Frank Coster - his leering face and that sly smile every time he looks at Mac.