I close my eyes, reminding myself that this is not the same. My irrational feelings are just that. Irrational. Remnants from today's events—this week. Someone has it out for me. For what reason, I have no idea. Marcus and Ethan are protecting me, which apparently includes having a new friend. I refuse to let this break me. I've been crippled by my mind my entire life. A person's attempts to cause harm are no competition to one's mind rendering them helpless.
Me: Are you coming back tonight?
I hit send before I can overthink it.
When there is no immediate response, I glance over at the clock. It is after eight. I let the phone fall back on the comforter and head to the bathroom for a hot shower.
Walking inside, I pass the tub. Stepping in front of the mirror, I begin to remove my makeup. Wiping with the cotton pad over my lid, I zero in on the reflection of the tub with my open eye. I halt midmotion, waiting for the need to feel the burn. Today's events should've sent me spiraling. I should be craving the numbness, the urge to float. It's not there. The only explanation I have is that Marcus has changed things. For some reason, he anchors me.
I finish my skincare routine, take a shower, and then check my phone once more. Nothing. I peel the covers back and climb into bed. It's early, but leaning into the pillow, exhaustion weighs me down and before I can shift to turn off the light, I feel my body drift into sleep.
I startle awakeby my phone buzzing across the nightstand. My heart is thundering, and my body is anything but rested. Groggily, I blink at the lamp.
What time is it?
I reach for the device as the vibration of the repeat notification begins to resemble a motor next to my ear. My head is pounding, and I click on the message without looking at the sender. The text doesn't have a name, just a number.
I informed your father of your little issue resurfacing. He will be in touch. Time to come home, sweetheart.
I jolt upright. What the—? I narrow my eyes at the digits above the three sentences. I know the number. How he got mine is another question.
My pulse thrashes in my ears. The covers are suddenly too heavy, my pajamas too tight. No, no, no. I refuse to let Collin do this to me when someone slashing my tires didn't.
You had Marcus there when Lilly's car got mutilated. You're alone now.
I glance at the bedside table. The red numbers on the alarm clock show 5:32 a.m. I exit out of the message and see that Marcus had texted at one point. How did I miss his but heard Collin's? I must've been out cold for most of the night.
I click on the message.
Marcus: Heading back now. You're awake?
That was at 11:13 p.m. Clearly, I wasn't.Shit.
Eyeing the comforter, the unpleasant sensation of tightness begins to constrict my chest. I swing my legs off the mattress and don't bother with shoes. I'm in sleep shorts and a camisole. Goose bumps roll down my naked arms, but my mind is set on a singular goal.
I throw my door open and take two steps down at a time. Before I can aim for the French patio doors, hushed voices drift into the foyer from the kitchen. The lights are off, the rising sun already bathing the rooms in a warm glow.
I slowly pad toward the archway, and my breath hitches. Marcus leans against the kitchen counter, his chest bare, workout shorts low on his hips, and in front of him is a dark-haired girl I've never seen before. She's too close to him, their voices too low for me to hear their conversation. I'm frozen in place. Did I interpret the change in our…relationship all wrong? The thudding in my chest slows and becomes painful with every passing moment.
What the fuck is going on here? I want to yell out my confusion, but my jaw is so tense that I can't form words.
All I see is her long, dark hair cascading down her back. She's dressed in tight black leggings and a formfitting long-sleeve shirt—also black. Combat boots complete the outfit, making her look like a cat burglar or…The Cleaner.
Suddenly, Ethan rounds the corner from the hallway leading to the garage and gym. "I got your bag, J." His eyes lock on me, and he halts midstep, letting J's duffel hover between them. "Oh, hey, Den."
Marcus's head jerks around, and the brunette—no. J? Jenn? Whatever—turns as well. All eyes are on me, and I swallow audibly. I wish I would've at least grabbed my cardigan.
I don't know what I expect to happen, but it is not Marcus sidestepping our guest and stalking toward me with so much determination I stagger backward as soon as he reaches me, and he wraps me in his arms, my face resting against his naked chest. I'm acutely aware of our lack of clothing at this early hour, but at the same time, I can't bring myself to care. He smells of sweat, something that would repulse me on any other man. On him, though… I press closer, digging my nails into his back as I return the embrace. A rumble in his chest indicates his approval, and I lean back in his arms. Craning my neck, our gazes lock, and the heat in his brown eyes causes my skin to tingle.
"Baxter, either take your little make-out session to a room or introduce me," a female voice calls out, and my shoulders tense.
Marcus rolls his eyes and smirks without looking at her. "Denielle, this is Jenn. Jenn, meet Denielle."
Relishing his sole attention, my earlier insecurity vanishes into thin air. I've never been the jealous type, but this man wakes all kinds of new traits. Leaning to the side, I peer around Marcus's large frame and face my babysitter. Marcus shifts so his arm is draped around my waist and guides me toward Ethan and Jenn.
Jenn stretches her hand out, bouncing on her heels. Her eyes shine with warmth, and her smile is sincere—both in complete contradiction to her appearanceand occupation. "Hi. Denielle? May I call you D?" She cocks her head. "Your name is quite the mouthful." Jenn shrugs. More bouncing. "Wild Bill here tells me you've got yourself a little stalker situation." She dips her head in Ethan's direction.
I take her hand, my brows arching as my gaze swivels to Ethan. "Wild Bill?" I enunciate the words slowly. Is she messing with me? On my side, Marcus shakes with silent laughter.