Page 77 of King of Clubs

“Marlee, please let me explain. I’m worried about you and you keep saying you’re fine, but–”

She scoffed and when she spoke, her words held more fury than I’d ever heard from her.

“I didn’t ask you to look into him, Sebastian,” she spat, pointing towards the papers and I nearly flinched at the way she used my full name. “Why do my boyfriends always do shit like this? I am capable of taking care of myself, you know? Or do you think I’m that weak? Do I seem weak?” Her questions increased in volume, each hitting me in the chest like a series of darts.

“Of course not. That was never my intention. Fuck,” I reached for her and she stepped aside, averting her eyes as hot tears fell down her face.

I was out of my depth. I wanted to know everything I could about this jerk so I could help, but I’d taken away the one thing she begged for. The one thing she craved – honesty.

I needed to fix this but I didn’t even know where to begin. She was the first person I’d ever dated, cared for,possibly even lovedand I was drowning. Navigating a new city with no access to a map.

She paced my office, her arms flapping as her breathing increased.

I wanted to hold her but the look on her face was terrifying. She was pissed and an angry Marlee wasn’t for the faint of heart. This was exactly why I didn’t date. I didn’t have the first clue about how to support someone else in life. I made decisions proactively and when I couldn’t, my reactive response was clearly messy. And look where that got me.

Running an exasperated hand through my hair I waited for her to speak, to give me some indication where she was at mentally. I didn’t know what to do and for once I needed to let someone else lead.

“I know you think what you’re doing is okay, but it’s not,” she snapped, and like a can opened after having been shaken she erupted. “I’m tired of constantly fighting for governance of my own life,” she ran her hands through her hair, holding tight fists at the back of her neck, “and now I haveyouinvestigating me like some kind of vigilante fucking detective.” I watched the fury emanating from her acidic words but didn’t dare interrupt.

“I have adoormanwho won’t take no for an answer no matter how many ways I say it and a fuckingstalkerwho has contacted me three times and I have literally no idea who they are. It’s everywhere I turn and I'm exhausted!” Any form of hold on her emotions was long gone, the last words spilling from her on a scream. This version of Marlee was filled with despair, driven purely by emotion and it clawed at my skin, creating my own form of torture at having to see her like this. My first instinct was to get in her space and make her see me. See my intentions and my love for her so I could reassure her and work through it with her but before I could, realisation slapped me across the face.

“Wait!” I strode towards her, unable to stay away. Her hands raised defensively, causing me to halt. “Did you just say stalker? Clarify what you mean by stalker?” I gritted.

Her eyes were wide, signalling her own recognition of what she’d just admitted.

I took a deep breath to kerb the fire that was swirling inside my chest as each of her comments swarmed in the silence between us.

Suppressing my anger, I spoke as calmly as I could manage. “We will get to these,” I pointed towards the documents, “but first, you need to explain what you mean by stalker?”

“Sebastian, please, I just want to go home,” she looked up at me through her lashes, but despite the pain splashed across her features, I needed clarification.

“No!” I stated, matter of factly. “I know I fucked up but you don’t get to say someone is stalking one of the few fucking people I lo - argh - care about and not explain.”

Shit, had I just been about to tell her I loved her. Christ. The fire in my chest was an inferno and I wasn’t even remotely ready to go there right now.

“I don’t know, okay!” Exasperated, she threw her hands in the air. “Someone has been sending me messages,” she took her phone out facing the screen towards me, “and they’ve commented on what I was wearing or they mentioned you. I didn’t say anything because you don’t need to worry about my bullshit drama. And I don’t even know who’s sending them so what’s the point of worrying you?” I took her phone and scanned the screen before I forwarded screenshots of each text – and the number they came from – to myself.

“This first one was sent days ago, Marlee. How the fuck am I supposed to protect you if you don’t tell me things like this? How were you actually going to fix this on your own? Do you think you have it handled? Because it doesn’t fucking look that way to me.” I could see the way each of my questions ripped right through her before she seemed to deflate in front of me. She shrugged, the external anger almost viscerally melting away whereas my vision was near blurry from the rage that lingered in my stomach like a brick. I teetered on the edge, the pressure mounting underneath my skin.

I needed to speak to Wayne.

I needed to see Cooper so I could punch the shit out of someone.

But more than those things, I wanted to protect her. Which meant I needed to find out who the actual fuck was messaging her before I lost my mind. Quickly opening my phone, I shot a message to Wayne to get to my office immediately.

Marlee’s small voice snagged my attention, drawing me away from the flames licking at the edge of my resolve.

“I’m going home now, okay. I know you’re upset and I know you mean well but I need to breathe and I can’t do that when I’m near you. Your anger is palpable, Sebastian, but I’m angry too. And I can’t think when you smell like, like, that,” she flung her hand in my direction and the look of aggravation was so Marlee-like I nearly smiled. I wanted to wrap her in my arms. Tell her I was sorry and vow to protect her but the fury was still clawing at my chest, my thoughts swirling.

Marlee had a stalker. A fucking stalker. And the doorman at her building was bothering her. How long had that been going on? I knew he was a shit stain when I first saw him but I didn't realise it was this bad. I made a mental note to call Andy ASAP.

Who the fuck was this guy and more importantly, who the fuck was messaging her?

As much as it pained me to let her go, I knew it was what she needed right now, and I also needed time to process and calm the fuck down. I wanted her near but she didn’t deserve my anger and I didn’t know how to defuse my own anger with everything swirling.

“Okay, babe,” my voice sounded utterly frustrated, even to me. “Wayne will drive you home. I’m sorry. I - I never meant to hurt you,” my voice broke on that last line and I turned away from her. My nose twitched and if I wasn’t wrong, I felt on the verge of tears. Something I hadn’t done since I was child. Taking a moment to compose myself I paused at the door to my office, my back still to her. I couldn’t let her see me like this, especially when I was barely hanging on.

“Go home and breathe, Marls, but just know, I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe and I’m sorry if that’s the wrong thing to do. But you’re mine now and I protect what’s mine.”

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