Page 60 of Marc

I park my car in the garage and carry her bags into the guest room.

She sits on the edge of the bed and lets out a loud sigh.

“Thank you. For everything. The trip, helping me pack, fixing my front door, and letting me stay here.”

I squat in front of her so she can see me. “You are always welcome here. Whenever and for however long you want.”

Tears fall down her cheeks as she cries.

Shit.

Did I say something wrong?

“Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m here for you.”

A sob gets caught in her chest. “There’s so muchI need to do and with work, I barely have any down time.”

Using my fingers, I lift her chin until she is looking at me.

“We can figure everything out later. Take tonight to process everything. Be emotional and vulnerable, and then tomorrow hold your head high and show that fucker that you are stronger than he thinks.”

She swipes the tears from her cheeks and sits up straighter. “Yeah, you’re right. I can do this. Thank you.”

Staci is incredibly strong; she just needs to believe that she is.

“I’m here for you. How about I whip us up some food?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry. I think I am just going to shower and then go to bed.”

She hasn’t eaten since this morning, but I don’t want her to make herself sick by forcing herself to eat.

“Okay. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” I stand and head to the bedroom door. “Good night.”

She whispers, “Good night, Marc.”

I grab a protein shake out of the refrigerator and head to my bathroom to shower. After chugging the shake, I start the warm water.

The warm water feels great, but I turn the temperature a bit cooler to make sure Staci has all the hot water that she could want.

I shower quickly and dry off before slipping on a pair of shorts and climbing between my sheets.

My muscles are tense with the hatred I feel towards Jared.

How could anyone do something so heinous?

Especially to Staci.

That woman is so kindhearted and caring.

She deserves the world on a silver platter. She doesn’t deserve the shit he is putting her through.

Grabbing my phone, I dial my agent’s number.

He answers on the first ring.

I don’t give him a chance to talk. “Hey, I need to push back my appointment tomorrow morning. There’s something I need to do first and it will take me a couple of hours.”

He clears his throat. “Is everything okay?”

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