20. You Belong to Me
Chapter twenty
You Belong to Me
Marcus found me at the Muddy Boot.
I was there with Lila. It was her idea, after a long day at the studio, and I didn't see him until he was already there, sliding onto the barstool beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Serena," he said. "I've been looking for you."
Cold flooded through me. My hands shook. The old terror rose, the one that knew his smile, his voice, the weight of his certainty.
Don't let him see it, I told myself. Don't give him the satisfaction.
"Marcus," I kept my voice flat, emotionless.
"You're hard to find." He was smiling, that charming smile I used to love before I understood what it meant. Before I understood it was a weapon, a way of disarming people so he could control them. "New town. New friends." His eyes flicked to Lila, assessing, dismissing. "New life."
"I moved on. You should too."
"Did you?" He leaned closer, and I caught his scent, expensive cologne, the faint smell of whiskey. The smell that still triggered nightmares. "Because it looks to me like you ran away."
"There's a restraining order."
"That hasn't gone through yet. I checked." His smile widened. "I just want to talk, Serena. That's all I've ever wanted."
"You need to leave."
"See, that's the thing about you." His voice dropped, went intimate in a way that made my skin crawl. "You never understood that you don't get to make those decisions. You belong to me. You've always belonged to me, and wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll find you. That's just how it is."
The terror was overwhelming. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't—
My hand found the pepper spray in my jacket pocket—the one I’d carried every day since Atlanta.
My thumb found the safety cap. I didn’t pull it out.
Not yet. But I held it, felt the solid weight of it against my palm, and the contact steadied something inside me.
I wasn’t the woman who’d frozen in our apartment anymore.
I had a weapon. I had a door behind me. I had options.
And then Callum was there. Solid as a wall.
His cold fury sharpened the air between us.
"Get. The fuck. Out," he said. His voice was quiet. Flat. Absolutely certain.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Someone who is asking you to leave." A pause. "Once."
For a long moment, they just looked at each other. I couldn't see Callum's face from this angle, but I could see Marcus's; the way the charm flickered, the way something colder showed through. The mask slipping to reveal the predator.
"This isn't over," Marcus said to me. Not to Callum, he was already dismissing Callum, which was a mistake I suspected he would come to regret. "You and I both know that."
He stood, straightened his jacket, and left.
My knees buckled. Callum caught me. One arm around my waist, solid, keeping me from shattering.
"Breathe," he said, his voice gentler than I'd ever heard it. "Just breathe."
I tried. The panic was receding, slowly, replaced by something that felt like shock. My hands were still shaking. My heart was still racing.
But I was okay. I was going to be okay.
"Thank you," I managed.
"Don't thank me for something I should have done sooner." His jaw was tight, his eyes dark with something that might have been rage. "He won't get that close again."
"You can't promise—"
"I can." He turned me to face him, his hands on my shoulders, his gaze boring into mine. "I can, Serena. He touched what's mine tonight. It won't happen again."
The possessiveness in his voice should have frightened me. Should have reminded me of Marcus, of all the ways men tried to own women under the guise of protection.
But this was different. Callum wasn't trying to own me. He was trying to keep me safe, whole, protected, and the difference was everything.
"Okay," I breathed.
His expression shifted, something raw moving through it. Then he stepped back, releasing me, rebuilding the distance.
"Jasper's outside," he said. "Eli's at the house. You're not going to be alone tonight."
I nodded. I didn't have words left.
Lila was staring at me with wide eyes. "What the hell was that?"
"I can't," I said. "I'm sorry."
I let Callum walk me to his truck, his presence a solid wall between me and the darkness.
My neck prickled a warning, I glanced back at the bar one last time.
Marcus was standing in the doorway, watching us go. And he was smiling.
It wasn't the smile of a man who'd lost. It was the smile of a man who'd gotten exactly what he wanted.
He wanted to see them, I realized. He wanted to see how they'd react.
Which meant this wasn't random. It wasn't coincidence.
Marcus was planning something.
And we'd just given him exactly the information he needed.