Page 67 of Desperate Haste

I open the door just an inch and peek at him from behind it. “What the hell are you doing here, Jarrett?”

“There she is, my runaway bride. So this is where you’ve been hiding the last four years.” His breath reeks of alcohol and I try not to shrink at the sight of his cruel smile.

“How did you find me? Why did you come here?”

“Well after you pulled your little disappearing act on the night of our wedding—cute touch with your dress, by the way—I figured good riddance. But then, I ran into your mother a week ago at the grocery store and she told me a veryinteresting story about you.” My eyebrows furrow as I try to figure out what she could have said to him. I had emailed her a week or so ago updating her on things in my life like we do once a month, but I don’t remember telling her where I live.

“She mentioned to me how you recently met someone and that things were hard between you two. How you were worried about him after he lost his mentor and how he was dealing with being a new restaurant owner.” I turn and look at Malcolm who’s standing dumbfounded, overhearing everything Jarrett is drunkenly admitting to. “She made it clear to me how desperate you were for a strong enough man who can deal with life’s changes. Something about how you wished your current man was stronger?”

“I never said anything like that,” I stress before turning to look at Malcolm again. “I swear, I never said any of that to her.”

“Oh, but you did, Ophelia. She even showed me the email and was nearlybeggingme to come and find you. Using the information you gave her, I looked up local obituaries and business ownership documents, they’re all public records you know. When I found what I needed, I simply called up your boyfriend’s bar and asked to speak with him. When they told me he wasn’t in, I asked if they knew where to find him and they told me he would probably be with you. You in there, Malcolm?” He calls out his name and Malcolm nearly throws himself through the door but I push him away before he rips the door off its hinges.

“The nice girl on the phone told me what building you lived in but couldn’t tell me which unit. So I grabbed some takeout, walked in, and told the front desk people I was here to drop off some food.” He leans closer to the doorway and looks at me through the less than an inch opening I’d allowed for and meets my eyes through the crack. “It’s time to come home now, Mrs. Wheeler.”

The sound of him referring to me as his wife is what breaks any sense of control Malcolm is hanging onto. He pulls me out of the way before tearing the door open completely, slamming his body into Jarrett’s, causing them to clash in the hallway. There is a clear size difference between the two of them that Malcolm uses to his advantage. Years of training with Reese and Marshall doesn’t make for a fair fight. Not that Jarrett deserves it. The entire exchange is over before it starts when Malcolm lands a hard left hook into Jarrett’s chin, nearly knocking him out completely.

“If you ever come near her again, I will fucking end you, you hear me?” Malcolm growls, holding Jarrett up by the collar of his shirt. His head is limp and his eyes are hardly staying open as he looks between me and Malcolm. Between Malcolm’s punch and the jug of alcohol he seemed to have consumed before coming over, he is struggling to maintain any sense of coherence.

“She’s my wife, you stupid prick. She was never meant to be yours,” he slurs.

Malcolm yanks his head up to meet him and looks at him as if he’s ready to beat the life out of him. “If she were your wife she never would have run away in the first place, but she did. She’s mine now, and I’mneverletting her go. Now you better get lost before I make it so no one ever findsyouagain. Got it?”

“Whatever. The bitch isn’t worth it anyway.” Jarrett’s eyes close as his body finally succumbs to the beating. Malcolm drops him and stands, leaving him on the floor passed out and comes to stand next to me.

Forty-five minutes later, the cops are walking Jarrett out in handcuffs, arresting him for trespassing and harassment. When the whole ordeal is over and we’re alone once more, we climb into bed and lay close to one another.

“Malcolm, I’m so sorry. I promise you, I never said any of that to my mother. I told her about you, yes, but nothing like what Jarrett said I did. I swear to you I didn’t.” I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline finally kicking in from what happened or the fear that he will be upset with me that causes my voice to crack. Tears spring into my eyes and I look towards the ceiling in an attempt to force them back down. He moves closer and wraps his strong arms around me like a shield.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, princess. You did nothing wrong. You’re allowed to share things with your family. It makes me happy knowing that you told her about me, about us,” he speaks into my hair.

“I didn’t know she still talked to him, I wouldn’t have ever said anything if I thought she did.”

“I know you wouldn’t, I know. It’s okay that you share things with her,” he hushes, wrapping his arms around me tighter. “I’m sorry, Ophelia.”

I pull away and look up at him, confused by his apology. “You’resorry? What do you have to be sorry about?”

His hand comes to my forehead and smooths some of my hair out of my eyes. “For not doing a better job of protecting you. For not being here enough. For being so distracted by everything—Marshall, the bar, my friends. I’m sorry for treating you so poorly the last few weeks. I promise to do better.”

“Malcolm—”

“No, I’m serious. I like you, Ophelia, I think I might be in love with you. But I’ve done a pretty shitty job of showing you that since losing Marshall. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise.”

My mouth falls into a small ‘O’ at his confession and my brain is too stunned to form words.

“I–I—” I falter.

“You don’t have to say anything back, just come here.” He pulls me into a hug and holds me against his chest for what feels like hours. Eventually, he falls asleep and the sounds of his slow and steady breaths fill my quiet bedroom. But I lie awake next to him, unable to comprehend what he said to me.

I think I might be in love with you.

But what I can’t believe more is the fact that I don’t totally hate the idea that he is.

34

MALCOLM

It feels like the alarm goes off five minutes after I collapsed into bed last night after getting home from work. For the first time in weeks, I’m waking up alone after staying with Ophelia at her place—or her staying with me—ever since her deadbeat ex-fiancé was hauled off by the cops. After several arguments of her telling me she didn’t need them, she agreed to allow Kolbi to install cameras outside her door and in the hallway of her building that link directly to his team in case Jarrett ever comes back. And with the encouragement of Bailey, she filed for a restraining order against him too. She might not be concerned about him coming back, but I’m not going to risk it.

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