Page 47 of Don't Hate Me
Marc thought it might be enough, but I knew he didn’t fully understand. Still, if Arthur didn’t accept what we’d done, Marc would resign his position, then we would go to his apartment in Brooklyn.
He’d already explained it was completely crowded and we would basically be sharing a couch until he could find work at another firm. But that was fine. We would be together, and free, and married.
It wouldn’t be out of character for Arthur to be petty and try to blackball Marc from several prestigious firms, but he wouldn’t be able to stop him from getting a job somewhere. Not with Marc’s résumé.
We made our way down the tunnel which led to the gate. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Marc had a smile playing around his mouth. Not a full-out smile, but a small, satisfied one that reminded me what I did for him. I brought him pleasure and smiles and easy times. With me, and only with me, he could escape from the loss and anger that sometimes threatened to overwhelm him.
He was happy with me. No matter the trouble I brought on him, I also brought him a sense of peace. He had to see that. He had to be able to compare the difference of his feelings when he was with me, and when he was without me. At least I hoped he did.
Maybe it was because I was looking at him, at his expression, I didn’t notice the two men in suits who stood at the end of the gate as if they were waiting for someone.
“Marc Campbell?” the one suit said, stepping forward.
They both wore navy blue suits, white shirts with red ties. They had short hair, military-style haircuts, and both had the same serious expression.
“Yes, I’m Marc Campbell.”
“This is Agent Bellevue. I’m Agent Warren.”
The agent named Warren handed Marc a document.
“That’s a warrant for your arrest.”
“No,” I gasped. This wasn’t happening.
“Charges of fraud and embezzlement. We’ll need you to come with us for processing.”
“What the fuck?” Marc raged. “Is this a joke?”
“No joke, sir. A complaint was filed by your employer three days ago. Our investigation shows a direct transfer of money from your work account, to a personal account, in the amount of two thousand dollars.”
I looked over at Marc and he closed his eyes. “That wasn’t…I didn’t embezzle that money. That money was mine. It was what I earned.”
“Sir, that money was not yours,” the agent named Bellevue said. “But that’s not what we’re interested in. What we would really like to know is what you did with the twenty million dollars you stole?”
I closed my eyes and felt the world turn black. The insidious cold of my father’s plot chilled the air around us, making it so hard to breathe.
But I had to breathe. I couldn’t let myself collapse on the spot. Not when I knew Marc needed me.
“This is a mistake. My father is doing this,” I tried to tell the agents, but they were impervious to my pleas.
“You have a previous charge for resisting arrest, so we’re going to need to handcuff you,” Warren said, extracting a pair of cuffs from what appeared to be some type of utility belt. When he shifted his jacket, I saw the gun on his hip.
“No!” I screamed.
“Ash,” Marc barked at me, even as he was turning his back on the agent so they could lock his hands together. Around us, people were starting to stare. “I need you to calm down. We’ll get this sorted out.”
“How? How are we going to beat this? You know he set you up. You know it! This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you get involved. I didn’t know he would be this ruthless. I thought he would let me go. I did this to you. This is my fault.”
I could feel myself panting. Could feel my lungs starting to heave and reject the oxygen I desperately needed.
“Ashleigh, look at me,” Marc said, getting up in my face. His hands were cuffed behind his back so he couldn’t touch me. I tried to pull at his arm as if I could will them to come apart. “Look at me and breathe.”
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “Please don’t hate me.”
“We’re going to figure this out. I didn’t do anything wrong. We both know this is temporary. You need to trust me.”
I shook my head. “This is him. This is them.”
