14. Miles
Another fucking unknown text message. I’m getting tired of this. Trash my apartment. Break all of my shit. I don’t give a damn. But blaming Maddie for it? That’s where they fucked up.
I’m not angry with her. None of this is her fault, no matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise. But I can see it all over her face—the guilt and fear, the way she’s already carrying the weight of something that was never hers to carry.
Soft tears slide down Maddie’s cheeks, and she quickly wipes them away like she’s embarrassed that I saw them. Then she throws her phone across the room.
“Goddamnit! I’m over it!”
Her voice cracks as she drops to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in her arms.
My chest tightens. I hate seeing her like this. I hate knowing someone has made her feel so afraid that she thinks disappearing is easier than letting someone help her.
I move toward her without thinking, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her against me. I press a kiss into her warm curls, holding her while she cries.
I want this to end just as badly as she does. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
I look up at Kaitlin. “Can you grab her some water?”
She nods immediately, heading toward the kitchen. A few seconds later, she returns with a bottle and hands it to me before sitting on the floor a few feet away, giving us space.
I open the bottle and tap Maddie’s shoulder gently. “Here, Princess. Take a drink.”
She takes it from me with shaky hands and brings it to her lips, taking a few small sips. Her face is flushed, her eyes swollen from crying, but despite that, she still manages to give me a tiny smile.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly, and I kiss her forehead.
“Of course, Princess,” I brush a curl away from her face, looking down at her. “Listen to me. Don’t worry about my apartment. None of this matters.”
Her brows pull together slightly.
“It’s just stuff, Mads. It can be replaced.” I pause, letting my thumb brush over her cheek. “But you can’t.”
Her eyes flicker, and I know my words hit her, but I don’t think she believes them yet.
“You matter to me.”
I don’t know what happened to her to make her think she has to carry everything alone, but I’m going to figure it out. I meant what I said. Her demons are mine now.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Kaitlin says, standing up. “But where’s your bathroom?”
I point toward the hallway. “First door on the right.”
She disappears, and the second the door closes, I lower my voice.
“I’m going to get a security system placed. Some cameras and stuff. I don’t want anyone else but you knowing about it, so don’t tell Kaitlin.”
Maddie studies me for a moment. “Why?”
Because I don’t know who to trust. Because whoever did this knows too much already.
“The fewer people that know, the better.”
She hesitates before nodding. I lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She tastes like coffee and salt from her tears.
“C’mon,” I whisper. “I don’t want you sitting on the floor. There’s dirt and glass everywhere.”
I help Maddie up, guiding her toward the bed. At least the bastard didn’t destroy the mattress. I’m actually surprised he didn’t since he knew what took place on it.
The image of Maddie squirming beneath me while my tongue lapped up every last drop of her release has my cock hardening against my zipper, and I try to push it to the back of my mind.
I need to find out more about this stalker.
I sit beside Maddie and take her hands in mine. Every time I’ve tried to get close to the truth about her past, she shuts down and changes the subject. She always finds some excuse to keep me out. But I need to understand—I want to know how to protect her.
“Can you tell me more about home? Why did you leave?” Her body immediately stiffens as she looks up at me with wide eyes. She folds her arms across her chest and bites nervously at her bottom lip.
“Why do you need to know?”
Need to know?
Is she being serious right now? Maybe because my place has been ransacked, and she’s getting murderous text messages from a stalker that watched me eat her pussy while she screamed in my bed?
But I can’t say any of that. I need to choose my words carefully.
“I just think if you opened up to me more, maybe I could understand what’s happening.”
“Understand?” she questions, her tone low. “Miles, I don’t need you to understand. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”
Shit. Okay. Wrong words. I’m already fucking this up.
“Maddie—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I know you mean well, but every time someone finds out something about me, it becomes a reason for them to treat me differently.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?” The hurt in her voice makes my chest ache. “How would knowing about my past help stop whoever is sending these messages?”
I open my mouth to answer, but she keeps going.
“The more you know about me, the more you’re at risk.”
“Mads—”
“I can’t do this,” she says, standing from the bed. “I think we need some space.”
My heart drops. “What?”
“This is getting too serious, Miles. And I can’t handle it.”
Before I can respond, Kaitlin steps out of the bathroom.
“What's going on?” she asks, stepping farther into the room, her eyes darting between Maddie and me.
Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, she brushes past her and heads toward the front door.
My chest tightens.
“Maddie,” I call out, following after her, catching her wrist just before she reaches the handle.
She freezes, her shoulders tensing beneath my touch.
“Please,” I say quietly. “Just talk to me.”
She slowly turns around, her amber eyes glassy with tears that refuse to fall.
“I have talked to you.”
“No, you’ve told me just enough to keep me from asking more.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and the hurt that flashes across her face makes me regret them instantly.
“Miles,” Kaitlin warns, and I ignore her.
“I’ve watched you jump every time your phone buzzes. I’ve watched you wake up crying. Someone broke into my apartment, trashed everything I own, left notes about you, and now they’re texting you again. How am I supposed to just sit here and pretend none of that means anything?”
“Because it doesn’t involve you.”
“The hell it doesn’t.”
“It shouldn’t!” Her voice cracks, and she rips her wrist from my hand. “This is my mess!”
“And I’m telling you it isn’t just yours anymore.”
“Miles,” Kaitlin says again, stepping between us. “Maybe you should give her a minute.”
I clench my jaw so hard it aches. Every instinct in me is screaming to fix this, but the more I push, the farther away she gets.
Maddie looks over at Kaitlin before turning back to me. “Can you go downstairs and call us an Uber?”
Kaitlin hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Kaitlin glances between us one last time before nodding. “I’ll be right outside.”
The apartment falls silent the second the door closes.
Maddie lets out a shaky breath, rubbing her forehead. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. “You don’t get it.”
“Then help me understand.”
She shakes her head. “No. Because the more you know, the more danger you’re in.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do!” Her voice echoes through the apartment. “I care enough for both of us.”
I stare at her, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Maddie…”
“No,” she says, as she angrily wipes at the tears spilling down her cheeks. “You don’t get to decide what risks I take.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” She steps closer, her finger pressing firmly into the center of my chest. “You don’t get to tell me where I should stay, who I should trust, or what I need to do.
I’ve spent my whole life with men making choices for me, convincing themselves it was for my own good.
I finally got away from that, and I’m not letting it happen again. ”
Her words hit me harder than any punch could. Because she’s right. I wasn’t trying to control her, I was trying to protect her. But somewhere along the way, I’d stopped seeing the difference.
I let out a slow breath. “You’re right.”
She blinks.
“I shouldn’t have told you what to do.”
Her tension in her shoulders eases ever so slightly.
“I just…” I run a hand over the back of my neck, searching for the right words. “I don’t know how to stand here and watch someone I care about get torn apart without wanting to do something.”
Her eyes soften. For one brief second, I think she’s going to let me hold her. Instead, she takes a step backward.
“I can’t stay here, Miles.”
I nod slowly, even though every part of me wants to tell her she’s making a mistake.
“Okay.”
“I need some space,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“I’ll text you later.”
I force myself to nod again. “Okay.”
She picks up her phone from the floor, gives me one last look, then quietly walks out the front door. The apartment is silent again. Only this time, it feels emptier than when I found it trashed.
It takes me the better part of three hours to clean up the disaster that used to be my apartment.
By the time I’m finished, my entire body aches.
Every broken picture frame has been tossed into a garbage bag, every shard of glass has been swept off the floor, and the busted furniture has been dragged outside for the dumpster to pick up tomorrow morning.
The place doesn’t look like a crime scene anymore, but it doesn’t feel like home either.
It’s too quiet. Too empty. Every bare spot where something used to sit is another reminder that some piece of shit stood in my apartment while I wasn’t here and decided to make my life a living hell.
After I’m done cleaning, I spend far more money than I originally planned on shopping for new furniture.
A new couch, television, and coffee table to replace the ones that got destroyed.
Then I order an entirely new security system, refusing to settle for the cheap crap I had before.
Every entrance is getting a camera, every window and blind spot, motion sensors, door alarms.
The whole damn package.
If that coward decides to come back, he isn’t walking away without me knowing exactly who he is.