Page 84 of Marc

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 amwithin 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 phoneand 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 withseveral 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.”

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