The Deputy and His Enforcer (Kincaid Pack #3) - Kiki Clark Page 0,100
never feeling good enough for his dad and like it was his job to do everything and take care of everyone. He’d thought he was doing better—and spending more time out of the farmhouse than in it definitely helped, allowing him to get to know his siblings again without stepping on each other’s toes. He’d been better about listening to what Teo, Annalisse, and Valentina needed rather than just ordering them around.
Maybe being a friend to Fiona and V was enough, and taking care of Marcus so he could take care of the pack better was enough, and protecting the pack as best as he could as a deputy—even though he was bored out of his mind with his job—was enough.
Okay, that last one he might have to keep working on.
Nodding to himself, he pulled out his phone and sent a text, then went to shower. There hadn’t been a note on Marcus’s side of the bed or a text from him, so his mate was somewhere in the house, probably wallowing in self-recriminations about how he couldn’t figure out Gregson’s letter.
It was time to protect his mate from himself.
Thirty minutes later, he was showered, dressed, and had set a plan in motion to help pull Marcus out of his downward spiral. He descended the stairs two at a time and bounded into the kitchen, not surprised to see Marcus slouched over that damn letter at the table. Even though the scent of coffee was pulling at him, his mate’s pull was harder and more immediate.
“Good morning, cariño,” he murmured, stepping up next to Marcus and running a hand over his tense shoulders. He was a little surprised when Marcus immediately turned and pressed his face into Robson’s stomach, wrapping his arms around his hips tightly, body trembling. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
Marcus shook his head, pressing even closer, and Robson was alarmed at the dampness he felt seeping into his T-shirt. “I can’t do it,” he whispered hoarsely, voice full of anguish. “I’m not smart enough.”
“Hey!” Threading his fingers into Marcus’s hair, he jerked his head back and glared down at his tear-streaked face. “Don’t you fucking say that. You’re brilliant, cariño. You just need to give yourself a break and let the answer come to you.”
Marcus scoffed as he swiped at his face, pulling out of Robson’s hold. “Mikel died and Wendy almost did too to get this letter, this message, to me. I can’t just sit back and twiddle my thumbs, waiting for inspiration to strike.”
Robson’s mouth dropped open a little, shocked not just by the words but by the tone Marcus used. He’d never spoken to Robson like that before, and Robson wasn’t a fan of it. Taking a breath, he tried to rein in his temper, knowing Marcus was just tired and stressed. “Okay, but you can’t keep going like this, Marcus. I can’t either.”
It was Marcus’s turn to look surprised and hurt. “You… What are you saying? You’re done with me?”
“What?”
“Because I thought you understood that sometimes the pack would have to come first and that it was my job to protect them any way I can. I thought you—”
Darting forward, Robson gripped the sides of Marcus’s face and forced him to look at Robson, their noses nearly touching. “Stop, cariño, stop. That’s not what I meant. You know that. Take a few deep breaths for me.”
He got two breaths sucked in before he broke, collapsing into Robson’s arms and sobbing uncontrollably. Carefully, Robson led them into the living room and lowered onto the couch, Marcus falling on top of him and crying just as hard. The pain wracking his mate was killing Robson, but it had been for days now. Marcus needed this, needed to grieve Gregson and be grateful for Wendy and let go of the idea that everything was on his shoulders.
Arms wrapped around Marcus as tightly as they could get, Robson slowly rocked him and whispered over and over, “It’s okay, cariño,” “I love you so much, and nothing can change that,” and “You always have and you always will protect our pack. You’re so good at it, sweetheart.”
By the time Marcus’s sobs had slowed to just shuddery breaths and the occasional whimper, the shoulder of Robson’s shirt was completely soaked, but he could feel a lightness in his mate that hadn’t been there for weeks. The weight of responsibility had been slowly crushing him, so slowly not even Marcus had realized it was happening apparently.