Page 21 of Marc (Men of Forbidden Temptation #2)

STACI

There’s only been a few times in my life that I have been unable to say what’s on my mind.

Today seems to be another one to add to the growing list.

So many emotions flood through my body: anger, shock, disappointment, and sadness.

I’m speechless as my gaze stays locked onto my flat tires.

I walk around my car to inspect the other two tires. Anger builds in my chest as I see they match the two on the other side of the car.

The slashes are several inches wide and look perfectly cut from a knife.

“If Jared ruined my rims, I’m going to be pissed.”

More like livid because I am already way past pissed.

Marc scoffs. “Going to be? Hell, you should already be there. I know I am. ”

Marc’s hands are balled into tight fists. Reaching out, I open his hands and link my fingers with his.

“From now on, when it comes to Jared, there is no point in either of us getting angry. It’s not healthy and in the end, we are the only ones that suffer.”

Marc turns towards me. “Wha-”

I lightly squeeze his hands to get him to stop talking and look at me.

“There is no use in us wasting the energy being mad because Jared is going to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and consequences be damned. Maybe if we ignore him, he will get bored and move on with his life.”

Even I don’t believe that for one second, but I can still hope it will happen.

I had one year without him, but now that he’s found me, he’s not going to leave quietly. At least not without causing another dozen more destructions.

Marc pulls his hand away from mine and jabs his finger to my tires as his breathing gets heavier from the anger coursing through his veins.

“There will be consequences for this, believe me. He may have gotten away with coming here to try to intimidate you, breaking in and trashing your house, and smashing your window this morning, but I’m not going to stand here and let this shit continue.”

Marc pulls out his phone, scrolls through his contact list, and calls someone .

After a few moments, I hear that the person he called is a friend that works for a tow company and Marc is getting my car towed to the local garage.

I guess it’s a good thing he is here with me because I probably wouldn’t have thought to have my car towed to a garage. It would have sat back here in the alley until I could have bought new tires and hired someone to come put them on.

At least the garage can lift the car up so the rims aren't ruined because they were resting on the ground because four new tires are going to cost me an arm and a leg.

Marc ends the call and shoves his phone into his shorts pocket.

“He will be here in ten minutes to get your car. Once he loads it up, he will bring it to the garage. I’ll call them in a few to give them a heads up.”

“I’m glad it was just my car and not yours. It’s one thing to destroy my stuff, but you don’t deserve this, especially since you weren’t involved in our past. Speaking of your car, where did you park?”

Marc grabs my hands and stares at me like there’s a million things he wants to say.

After a few silent moments, he takes a deep breath and says, “Staci, you don’t deserve this either. No one does, but you, especially. It doesn't matter that you two have a past. What he is doing is unacceptable. Not to mention dangerous and illegal.”

“I know that, and I wish there was a way to make him stop, but there isn’t, unless I close the studio, move far away, and change my name.”

“That’s not going to happen. I won’t let you give up your dreams. I’ll help you get that bastard thrown in jail one way or another.”

I sigh and wipe the drop of sweat that’s running down the side of my face. “Where did you park? I want to make sure your car isn’t damaged.”

“Around the corner.”

I’m glad he parked around the corner, but I didn’t expect Jared would so brazenly come here and slash my tires. Especially with the hired security up front.

Speaking of security, where the fuck was he when this happened?

“Smart thinking, or else we would both be stranded here without a car.”

I follow Marc out of the parking lot and around the corner to his car. After thoroughly inspecting all sides of his car for any possible damage and not finding any, we get in.

He drives to the front of the studio and parks in the spot directly in front of the security guard’s car.

Marc doesn’t wait for me to get out of his car. In one swift movement, he turns the car off, unbuckles his seatbelt, and gets out.

He slams the driver’s door shut and walks like a man on a mission.

I have to hurry to unbuckle my seat belt and speed walk to catch up to Marc, but by time I am within earshot, Marc is already mid conversation with the security guy.

“What good are you or your services if Jared is still able to get to Staci? She hired you to protect her and her property here and from what I’ve seen, you haven’t done shit and now all four of her tires are slashed.”

Marc’s face is red, and his hands are being squeezed into fists.

If I didn’t know how caring Marc really was and I was on the receiving end of his death glare, I’d be scared and quivering in my seat.

The security guy rolls his eyes and, with no concern, mutters, “Relax, you’re being dramatic.”

That one word makes me see red.

I can understand the eye rolling because Marc showed up angry and looking like he’s itching for a fight, but for the security guy to not have any concern over what just happened is inexcusable.

I open my mouth to speak, but the security guy holds his hands up to get me to not speak.

Marc starts to protest, but once again, the security guard holds his hands up to stop Marc from speaking.

“I had motion activated security cameras installed at the back of your shop. If it was your ex-husband, then we will have evidence and will be able to press charges. His police friends won’t be able to help him because we are in a different county.”

He pulls up the camera footage on his phone and swipes along the screen to fast-forward the time to this afternoon.

When a rusted pickup truck parks at the end of the back alley, the security guy plays the video.

Marc and I lean closer to watch the event unfold. As a person walks around my car, the security guard zooms in.

The three of us watch in silence as the person in the video pulls out a pocket knife and stabs it into the first tire and pulls on it to create a large gash.

He repeats the process, slashing all four tires.

Marc leans closer to the open window. “We can’t really see his face. It’s almost as if he knew there was a camera back there and wanted to protect his identity.”

As soon as Marc stops speaking, the perpetrator stands and faces the camera.

The video shows Jared grinning and waving at the camera before walking down the back alley to his truck.

He takes his time driving off, like he didn’t just commit a crime.

The nerve of that guy!

“What the fuck?” I yell, not caring who is around to hear.

Jared was able to do all that while I was inside, unaware of his whereabouts. And while the security guard sat in his car up front, not doing a damn thing.

The security guy stops the video. “Don’t worry. This is more than enough to charge him with several offenses, including violating a restraining order.”

My heart beats faster in my chest as I remember the brick and the letter that he threw into my living room.

“Nothing will stop him. Nothing ever does. He’s going to keep harassing me, stalking me, and destroying everything I own until I am back with him or dead. This morning made it clear that he doesn’t want me moving on and living my life away from him.”

Marc straightens up and gives my hand a squeeze. “Nothing was done in your county because of the incompetent police, but this is a different county, and Jared doesn’t have any friends in the police department here.”

The security guy perks up. “Is there proof that he violated the restraining order before?”

I nod. “There are several police reports. I filed one each and every time, but nothing was ever done.”

He strums his fingers on his steering wheel. “Do you, by chance, have a copy of the police reports? If not, I can get them from the police station.”

I don’t think the police department will willingly hand over the police reports that will get their friend thrown in jail. Luckily, I’ve saved my own copies.

“I do. They are locked up in the office. I can make you a copy if you will be around for a few minutes. ”

He glances at his watch before saying, “Yeah, it’s still early. Plus, I’ll be here as long as you are. I appreciate the copies because it will help me expedite things.”

Turning around to head back inside, I yell over my shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few.”

I dig out my keys to unlock the door. The familiar beeping of the alarm lets me know I only have thirty seconds before the siren will go off. I type in the code to disarm the alarm and grab the police reports from the bottom drawer of my desk.

Using my small three-in-one printer, I place the five reports on the tray to make a copy of each of them.

The printer beeps but doesn’t scan the pages.

Out of paper.

“Great.” I mumble as I search for more.

Checking all of my drawers, I come up empty. Where would I have put the extra?

Do I even have any extra paper?

It’s been a long week and I haven’t been on top of things like I normally am.

I search in the only other cabinet I have in the studio, which is the coffee cabinet, and find half of a pack of paper. Chuckling, I carry it to the printer and put all of it in the paper tray.

While waiting for the machine to make the copies, I grab an empty folder to put the security guy’s copies in.

When the machine is finished, I place the police reports back in the drawer, arm the alarm, and lock the front door before handing the security guy his copies.

He starts reading the first one.

Since he seems to be experienced, I ask, “Do you really think we have a chance to get Jared to stop harassing me?”

His eyes widen before his eyes narrow, like he is surprised that I am asking that.

“Absolutely. I’ll get all the evidence together and file a new emergency restraining order in this county, and we will take it from there.”

I don’t want to get my hopes up, but he seems confident, and I want to have hope that the Jared destruction saga will finally be over.

Sure, it might have led to me wanting to sell my house and me having to buy four new tires, but I just want to live a normal life.

With Marc.

As his girlfriend.

“Where did Marc go?”

Marc is nowhere to be seen.

The security guy finishes reading the reports and puts them in his passenger seat. “Around back. The tow truck arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, great. I’ll go check on things.”

“And I’ll go submit this. I’ll be in touch.”

“Alright, bye.”

I start walking down the sidewalk to the end of the block as my stomach lets out a loud growl that causes me to laugh.

It has been a while since I’ve eaten .

“Only a few more minutes… hopefully.” I tell myself.

I stop in my tracks when I get to the back alley and see that there are several police cars as well as a giant tow truck.