35. Magnolia Steel
Chapter 35
Magnolia Steel
Alex’s name stares at me from my favorites list, glowing at me like it knows I’m hesitating. I should’ve called hours ago, right after I left the police station. But the words are too big. The fear, too heavy. And I didn’t want to be the reason his healing is delayed.
But now I’m sitting on the edge of my bed wearing one of Alex’s T-shirts, a towel wrapped around my damp hair, fresh from a shower I barely remember taking.
My thumb hovers, then taps. It rings twice before his handsome face fills the frame.
He’s reclining against a mountain of pillows in his bed, shirtless, jaw rough with days-old stubble. Hair a little wild. He looks tired. But when he sees me, he smiles, slow and soft.
“There’s my girl. Hey, favorite.”
The knot in my chest loosens a fraction. “Hey you.”
“Been waiting to see your face all day. You okay?”
“Yeah. I... needed a minute after work to take care of something.”
“Fair.” His smile tugs crooked. “I left you a voicemail about how it’s way too quiet here without you stealing all the covers.”
A laugh slips out. “Puh-lease. You’re the cover hog and we both know it.”
He smirks. “Evidence or it didn’t happen.”
But the teasing fades when I don’t keep it going. His eyes sharpen. Hone in.
“Hey… what’s wrong, babe?”
My chest caves a little. I look down, swallowing. “I need to tell you something.”
The smile on his face disappears and his voice becomes steel. “That motherfucker. Tell me what he’s done now.”
I take a breath.
“He came to my office two days ago and said he wanted to talk. He was... so intense . I told him to leave multiple times, which he didn’t like at all. He kept inching closer, and that made me feel threatened, so I picked up a glass bottle and broke the bottom off to use as a weapon if he came at me. He left after that.”
“Jesus, Magnolia.”
“He sent me flowers yesterday with an apology. And today, there was a blacked-out car parked across the street from my office. I’m not certain it was him, but it seemed off. So I filed a police report and got a restraining order.”
His jaw tics, rage simmering. “This isn’t something you casually tell me about two days after it happens.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to stress you out. You’re still recovering, and I had hoped it would stop after I threatened to slice him open.”
He mutters a string of obscenities beneath his breath. “I’m not mad at you. I’m pissed off about this whole situation––that he can get near you and I’m not there to keep him away.”
I love that Alex wants to protect me, but I’m not helpless. “I’ve been protecting myself since I was a little girl. I’m very good at it.”
“Don’t care. Pack a bag. I’m chartering a plane for you tonight. You’re coming to Dallas.”
I love the lengths he’s willing to go for me. It’s overwhelming sometimes—this fierce, unapologetic way he shows up. “I can’t. I have a site walk-through on Friday. Violet’s staying with me—we’re doing a sleepover with wine. I’ll be okay.”
His eyes are hard. Unyielding. “I’m not comfortable with this. Not when he’s showing up where you work. Not when we don’t know what he’s capable of.”
I shift the phone, curling tighter into myself. “If anything else happens, I’ll come. I promise.”
He stares at me for a long beat, like he’s trying to hold himself together. “I need you to take this seriously now. Not after something happens.”
“I can’t drop everything and leave when I have a business to manage. My client is depending on me.”
His voice softens. “I don’t like this. Not one fucking bit.”
“I know, but I can’t allow him to control my life.”
“If anything else happens, you promise me you’ll come to Dallas.”
“I promise.”
“Send me your location when you go somewhere, even if it’s just to the grocery store.”
I nod. “I will.”
“Promise me, Magnolia.”
“I promise.”
And that’s one promise I’ll keep. Because I’m afraid of Tyson now. Not in the abstract. Not in the maybe. In the real, bone-deep way that changes how you move through the world. That makes you look over your shoulder twice.
I didn’t go into the office today. I told myself I could be more productive from home. But the truth? I couldn’t stomach the idea of unlocking that front door and spending all day wondering if I was being watched. Wondering if that car would show up again across the street.
So I stayed home. Locked every door. Double-checked every window. Made a second pot of coffee I didn’t drink.
I’ve been camped at the kitchen table for hours—laptop open, fingers hovering, pretending to work. But I’m not seeing the screen.
I keep glancing at the front door, flinching at every sound—every creak, every voice in the hallway, every buzz of a neighbor’s phone vibrating through these paper-thin walls.
To say I’m on edge doesn’t even come close.
Violet offered to bring lunch and keep me company—and I didn’t say no.
A knock sounds––sharp and urgent—and I almost jump out of my skin.
“Be right there, Vi,” I say, already pushing away from the table, assuming she’s juggling too many takeout bags to use her key. But when I open the door, it’s not Violet.
My stomach drops so fast I become dizzy.
He looks more put-together today—dark jeans, a fitted tee, clean-shaven. But the intensity in his eyes is the same. Off.
“What are you doing here?” I try to keep my voice calm, but my fingers tighten around the edge of the door.
He steps forward, pushes past me like he has every right to. “We need to finish our conversation.”
I whirl around, my heart hammering. “No, we don’t. You need to leave.”
He doesn’t budge.
“This is your fault. You shut me out. You dropped everything we had as though it meant nothing. You want to play the victim now, but you lied too. You made me believe you wanted this.”
Something snaps inside me. The fear coiled in my chest unravels—not into panic, but into fury. Red-hot and righteous. Because how fucking dare he.
“You want to talk about lies?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Just venom. “You are the reason Alex and I broke up. Then you pursued me just to get back at Alex. How fucked up is that? And now you want to rewrite the story like I asked for it? Don’t you fucking dare twist this around on me after everything you did.”
He scoffs, eyes flashing. “Yeah, I pursued you because it would destroy Sebring. But then you let me in. You made me believe we could become something. You said yes to dinner, yes to that gallery opening. You gave me permission to touch you. I finger fucked you until you came all over my hand. You led me to believe there was something real growing between us. And I fucking fell in love with you. Hard. And then you flipped the script and made me the villain.”
There’s a wild look in his eyes now—unhinged and glassy. Like a man coming undone in real time, right in front of me. It’s not just anger—it’s desperation. Entitlement. A spiral that comes when someone realizes they’ve lost control, and they’ll claw at anything to get it back.
Gaslighting at its finest.
He wants me to question everything. To rewrite the truth into something more convenient for him. But I’m not confused about what happened.
My pulse roars in my ears, my whole body shaking.
And then I hear it—Violet’s voice. “What kind of fresh hell is this?”
She steps into the apartment like a bullet, keys still in one hand, takeout bags swinging from the other.
She sees him. Sees me. And without a second of hesitation, she plants herself right between us like she’s been waiting her whole life for this fight.
“Ten out of ten don’t recommend you being here. You need to turn the fuck around and walk out that door and never come back.”
I’m glad Violet’s my best friend because, fuck, she can be a little scary when she’s mad.
“This is between Magnolia and me. It has nothing to do with you, so fuck off.”
Oh shit.
His jaw tightens, hands flexing at his sides. But Violet doesn’t flinch.
“Everything that happens to her is my business. I’m more than her best friend—I’m the motherfucking fire-breathing dragon at the gate.”
I grab my phone, heart slamming in my chest, and dial 911.
Violet crosses her arms, lips curling like she’s just getting warmed up. “You ever come near her again, and the police will declare it a case of fucked around and found out. ”
Tyson’s eyes flick to the phone in my hand. He hears me give the dispatcher our address and turns, leaving without another word.
Violet races to the door and locks it, deadbolt and chain. “Holy shit, Mags. That dude is enormous. I’m a chihuahua who chased away an Irish wolfhound.”
I slide down the wall, legs folding underneath me, hands trembling.
She crouches beside me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but I’m lying. I’ve never been less okay in my life.
“That’s it. You’re not staying here with Hulkenstein on the loose.”
I nod, this time meaning it. “It’s time to call Alex.”
My hands tremble as I scroll to his contact. The moment he picks up and sees my face, his expression shifts from happy to terrified.
“Babe, what happened?”
“He showed up at my apartment again. This time, he forced his way in. If Violet hadn’t shown up when she did… I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
“That motherfucker!” he yells. “Call the police.”
“I already have.”
“Pack a bag. Now. No arguing this time. I’m chartering a plane. I’ll text you the details. Violet, don’t leave her side until she’s in the air.”
Vi doesn’t miss a beat. She never does. “Copy that. I’ll get her on that jet like precious cargo. And if Tyson shows his face, we’re gonna have ourselves a come-to-Jesus meeting with claws and consequences.”
I don’t argue with their plan to pack me up and send me off. Because they’re right. And I’m done pretending this isn’t serious.
Violet helps me pack while I tremble and fight tears. She moves through my apartment with a quiet, steady rage—folding clothes, zipping suitcases, muttering under her breath about men who can’t take no for an answer.
“This shit starts the second a girl grows anything resembling a breast.” She shoves a toiletry bag into my suitcase. “We’re fair game to anyone with a dick, like existing in a female body means we owe them. I’m so fucking sick of it. I wish I was into women… but, dammit, I like dick too much. I just don’t like the jerks they’re attached to.”
She doesn’t stop moving or muttering, rage vibrating off her.
By the time we’re in the car, she’s still mad as hell—hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes blazing as she tears down the road toward the airstrip.
“It’s always the same damn story. A man gets told no, and it becomes a vendetta. You pull away, set a boundary, and they act like you’ve just dismantled their whole damn identity. Like we were put on this earth to stroke their egos and hand them our peace of mind on a silver platter.”
She blares the horn at someone driving too slowly.
“Fucking patriarchy!” she screams.
I don’t say anything. I just sit there, clutching the handle on my bag like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered. But every word she spits lands because she’s not wrong.
When we pull up beside the hangar, the plane already waiting, she throws the car into park and turns toward me.
“You know I like him, right?” Her voice is softer now. “Alex, I mean.”
I nod. “I know.”
She smiles. “He takes care of you, and you deserve that. He’s one of the good ones, Mags. Don’t let him get away.”
Not a chance in hell. “I won’t.”
Dallas is waiting.
Alex is waiting.
And this time, I’m running toward something good.
By the time the car pulls up in front of the hotel, it’s late and I’m exhausted. I use my keycard and ride the elevator to the penthouse. It’s quiet. Dim. Just the low mechanical hum of gears turning, the soft whir of the elevator rising floor by floor, and the distant pulse of city noise beyond the glass.
When the doors slide open, I step inside and pause.
Alex is there. Waiting.
He’s sitting in the chair near the windows, one leg propped up on an ottoman, crutches leaning beside him. He looks pale and tense, like he hasn’t slept in days. His eyes snap to mine the second I step inside, and he starts to stand—but he doesn’t get far before I drop my bag and rush to him across the room.
I’m on him in seconds, careful of his leg, climbing into his lap like gravity’s been pulling me there all along. His arms lock around my waist, his face burying in my neck as I curl against him.
We don’t speak. We don’t have to.
His chest rises and falls against mine, erratic, like the weight of seeing me knocked something loose in him. My fingers sink into his hair, anchoring myself to the man who is my home.
“Babe, I’ve been losing my mind.”
I press my lips to his temple. “I’m sorry.”
We stay like that for a long while. Just breathing. Holding. Letting the world fall away.
My heart calms, and he pulls back just enough to look at me. His hands tighten at my waist. “Tell me everything.”
So I do.
I can feel it—Alex’s anger. The way his jaw locks. The way his hands flex beneath mine like they’re dying to be fists.
When I finish, his voice is low and wrecked. “I should’ve been there.”
“No,” I say, brushing his hair back. “You don’t get to do that. This isn’t your fault.”
His eyes flash with fury. “He’s obsessed with you because of me.”
I sigh. “Maybe it started that way. But it’s become something different now.”
“What do you mean?”
The words are heavy, but I owe him the truth. “He believes he loves me. Like, truly. In that twisted way that some people perceive love.”
Alex looks like he might break something.
“You’re staying here until we figure this out.”
I pause. Not because I’m resisting—but because I’m not used to being the one who surrenders.
“Okay.”
His brows lift, surprised.
“I’ve never been afraid like that of someone before.”
He squeezes me to him.
“Right now, I need to feel safe.”
He presses a kiss to my temple, fierce and full of everything he hasn’t said yet. “You are always safe with me, favorite.”
“I have a walk-through later this week. My only client. I’ll have to go back, at least for that.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m so tired. Can we go to bed?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He shifts, adjusting his leg, and I help him to the bedroom. We don’t bother undressing. We just climb under the sheets, limbs tangling, breath syncing. His arms wrap around me like armor, and I melt into him like I’ve been needing to all along.
It’s late. It’s quiet. For the first time in days… I feel safe. And for now, that’s everything.