Page 15 of Marc (Men of Forbidden Temptation #2)

STACI

Marc’s voice is full of concern, and I think he said something about calling the police.

That can’t be right.

Who needs to call the police?

Us?

Or someone else?

I open my eyes and turn to look at him.

His gaze isn’t even on me.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes, let out a little yawn, and stretch in my seat.

“What? Sorry, I was caught up in my thoughts and dreams.”

Marc’s gaze glances at me before locking onto something outside my window. He nods his head towards my house, like he is telling me to look.

Turning around to follow his gaze, I let out a loud gasp.

The front door of my house has been broken into. It is splintered in half and barely hanging on the hinges.

Paper, plastic, and other trash litters my front porch and the bushes along my house.

My voice finally comes back. “Oh my God, what happened to my house while we were gone?”

I don’t really need to ask this question, because deep down, I already know what happened.

Jared happened.

Just like he happened all over our house.

The pit in my stomach knew what he was capable of, and yet I still went on vacation with Marc.

I know I should count my blessings that I was away and safe on vacation with Marc and not here alone when Jared came through.

I get out of Marc’s car and cautiously walk through my broken front door. We have to step over broken drywall and smashed items.

Everything inside appears to be trashed.

Glass is shattered all around, picture frames are crushed and leaning against the baseboards, and throw pillows that were normally on the couch are now torn to shreds and scattered around the living room.

“I’ll call the police.” Marc pulls his phone out of his shorts pocket and dials the police as I continue to look around at the destruction.

A throat clearing from the open front door grabs my attention, so I make my way back through the destruction to see who is trying to get my attention .

Miss Edith walks through the doorway looking proud. “I used my camcorder for the first time in decades.”

Is she serious?

Did she really come over here just to let me know she used her camcorder?

I didn’t even know people still use them. Technology has changed so much in the past couple of decades.

“That’s great.” I reply, not knowing how that can help me right now.

She glares at me for a moment before smirking. “My video clearly shows who the suspect is.”

Suspect for what?

For this mess?

I don’t have the energy for riddles.

She walks closer to me and whispers in my ear, “It was Jared. He’s the one that did all of this, and I have the proof.”

Of course it was. Who else would have done this to me?

Relief washes over me for a moment before reality sets back in. “We can’t give it to the police. They will destroy the evidence.”

Marc interrupts. “The hell they will.”

I look towards him with panic rising in my chest.

“Please, Marc. Please, just listen to me this one time. We can’t give the police this footage. It’s the only copy we have. It will disappear with all the other evidence I gave them in the past. ”

“We can make a copy of the tape, and then you can press charges. If they won’t do their job and arrest him, then we will take it to the news outlets if we have to. This bullshit should have never happened, and I’ll make sure it stops.”

“I’m happy to go along with your ideas and adventures, but not this time. Please, just trust me on this. I will go along with whatever else you can think of next. Just let me have my way on this, please.”

“Fine. We will do it your way, since this is your life and your house.”

I breathe a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Marc storms outside just as a couple of police cars arrive.

Miss Edith elbows me and chuckles. “He’s hotter than hell when he is defending you. Why aren’t you married to him yet?”

Her comment brings a small smile to my face.

I whisper, “Yeah, he is.”

Truth be told, I’m wetter than the ocean we just left, but our fake relationship arrangement is preventing me from confessing my true feelings.

Things are all twisted and I don’t want to mess up our friendship or our working relationship when this nightmare with Jared is over.

Marc's loud, booming voice has me running outside to see what is going on.

He is nearly face to face with a police officer, yelling .

“Why aren’t you guys doing more? She’s had a restraining order for a year now, and yet he still calls her, barges into her studio, and now he’s breaking into her house and destroying her property.”

The police officer smirks. “Let’s not start throwing accusations out there. That can be considered slander, and it’s a punishable offense.”

Of course, this is one of Jared’s friends, but Marc doesn’t know that.

They must have had my address on file because they sent two of the officers that I’ve tried giving evidence to in the past.

Marc clenches his fists and I run to his side. If he hits a police officer, then I’ll be all alone to deal with this and Jared will get what he wants.

I won’t let Jared win.

Not this time.

Not anymore.

I wrap my arm around Marc’s much larger one and, using my other hand, I turn his face to look at me.

“Hey, let’s just file the police report and clean up my house. We can take things further at a later date. Let’s focus on one problem at a time.”

Marc doesn’t move or speak, so I add, “Please, for me, just walk away and let me handle this right now.”

Marc’s gaze softens, but he nods his head. “I’ll go inside and catch up with Miss Edith.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You can tell her all about our weekend together. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Looking back at the smirking officer, anger fills my veins. They know it was Jared, but once again, they pretend they don’t know shit.

Once again, I am left to pay for Jared’s harassment and destruction.

But this is the last time.

With Marc’s help, I’ll figure out a way to get justice.

When Marc is inside my house, the police officer grabs his notepad to get my side of the story.

I give the police all the details that I have while excluding the footage Miss Edith took.

“Everything was fine when we left Friday afternoon. We just got back and found my house like this.”

The police officer jots down some notes before saying, “Do you or any of your neighbors have any security cameras?”

I shake my head. “No, because this never happens here. This is a safe subdivision.”

“Hmm. That could make it harder to find the suspect.”

Is he serious?

We all know who it was, but we can’t turn in our evidence.

The officer signals for the other officer to go ahead and leave. He hands me the form to fill out.

As I fill it out, I say, “There’s only one person who has been harassing me and violating the restraining order and he was here Friday.”

The police officer raises an eyebrow. “Did you see him here Friday?”

“No, but Marc and Miss Edith did.”

“Hmm, then we have nothing to go on.”

I hand the form over. “He walked into my photography studio Thursday evening while I was there.”

“That’s in another county.”

“So?”

“So, it’s out of my jurisdiction. There’s nothing I can do about that. You should have called the police when it happened, if you wanted to enforce the restraining order.”

He strolls back to his car and immediately calls someone on his cell phone.

I have a guess about who that could be.

And based on his growing smile, I know my gut feeling is correct.

When the officer finally leaves, I head inside to clean up the destruction.

Marc and I say goodbye to Miss Edith while I prepare to spend the next several hours cleaning.

I grab a trash bag from under the kitchen sink while Marc grabs the broom and dustpan.

Tears fall down my cheeks and land on my shirt as I quickly fill the trash bag with my belongings.

These might just be simple things like pillows, dishes, and placemats to most people, but to me, they symbolize my freedom from Jared .

I had to work long hours and struggle to pay bills just to make this house my home.

And in no time at all, Jared destroys my sense of peace and security.

Sometimes, I would skip dinner just so I could buy something new for my house, like a bed frame or a shower curtain.

My tears turn into sobs as I bend over and pick up a smashed picture frame containing a picture of two smiling young girls.

Marc walks over to me and rubs his hand across my back. “Is that you and your sister?”

“Yes.” My voice cracks as a ball of emotion forms in my throat. “My sister gave me this frame and picture right before she was hospitalized. She said she hoped I would remember how to let go and live life.”

Even back then, I was strict with my schedule and by the books when it came to following the rules.

This picture was one of the few things that survived my marriage and Jared’s wrecking.

How could Jared do something like this?

He was there for me every year on the anniversary of her death.

He knew how much she meant to me and how much her passing destroyed a part of me.

Did he pretend to care while he held me in his arms?

Was he pretending to care when he drove us back to the very same beach where we met every time I missed Teri?

I clench the picture against my chest and sob while Marc holds me in his arms like Jared once did.

Unlike Jared, Marc doesn’t rush me or beg me to stop crying. He lets me cope with my sadness and grief while drenching his shirt with my tears.

Marc doesn’t complain or try to move. Instead, he pulls me closer to him and wraps his arms tighter around me like a big, comforting blanket.

My head fits perfectly on his chest as he rests his head against mine. My tears become less frequent the longer I stand in his comforting embrace.

I close my eyes and listen to the beating of Marc’s heart. It’s almost the exact same rhythm as mine.

It calms and comforts me.

I inch my way closer to him, needing to feel more of him.

His hand trails up my back and rests on the back of my head for a moment before he gently runs his fingers through my strands.

“Move in.”

Marc’s voice is low and I can hardly hear him.

I take a step back and lean away to look at Marc. “Uh, what did you just say?”

Did I hear him right?

I know his voice was a light whisper, but I swear I heard him say move in .

Marc’s arms are still wrapped around my waist. He looks down at me and says, “Move in with me.”

I shake my head.

As much as that sounds like a dream come true, I can’t put Marc in that position.

A position to be attacked by Jared or have his stuff destroyed. Or worse, being stalked and harassed by him.

“I can’t. He’s going to continue harassing me and stalking me until I am back with him. There’s no other way for me to be happy.”

Tightness forms in my stomach as hopelessness, dread, and fear fill my veins.

Jared won’t stop until I am back home with him.

Or dead.

And knowing Jared, he won’t let anyone step in the way to save me.

Especially a man like Marc.

I turn around and start to walk away because there’s no point in having this conversation, but Marc pulls me back towards him. I slam into his hard chest and he wraps his arms around my waist.

His gaze is dark and dangerous, hungry even. “You won’t be happy with him. We both know this.”

I scoff. “Of course, I won’t be happy with him. I won’t be happy anywhere. It seems like I’m not allowed to be happy at all.”

It’s not fair for Jared to keep tormenting me- in my life and in my nightmares .

It’s not fair for him to not allow me to move on and be happy.

It’s just not fucking fair, and I’ve had enough of this bullshit.

I want to scream to the world that Marc makes me happy.

He makes me look forward to living again. He gives me hope and helps me dream once again.

Marc rests his chin on the top of my head. His voice is lower than a whisper, but I can still hear him say, “You are happy with me.”