Ch. 43 The Attack We Didnt See Coming
Three days have passed in peace. Well, relative peace.
My pen catches the sunlight, glinting as I tap it on the file. Is there another way to get to Coleman?
His financials—at least what I have access to—are too clean. And the Brits refuse to slander 'an upstanding citizen' over the word of a 'washed up' actress.
Every time I remember that conversation, my blood boils. Christopher's friend is looking into Detective Boon, but who knows how long that will take?
I'm still waiting on Legend. I've been following up with him daily, but nothing tangible yet.
Christopher has been extremely tight-lipped about Madison's case, which is strange.
Should I drop by his office?
My files snap shut and I'm already stuffing them into my briefcase when my phone rings.
I frown. It's my building's security.
"Sir, we're sorry to disturb you, but we have a woman here, insisting on speaking with you. She claims to be your mother. Would you speak with her?"
"Put her on speaker."
"Marcus—I'm here to collect that check. Why don't you let me in? I'll wait inside the house."
"No. I'm sorry lady, but I don't know you, and I'm not giving you a dime. Now get lost, or I'll be forced to call the police. Do not let her in. I repeat, do not let her in."
Her voice goes cold. "You've made a big mistake, Marcus. You'll regret it."
—------------------------
My building pulls into view and I rush towards the security kiosk to ensure she doesn't pull something.
Thankfully, when I arrive, security assures me she's already gone, but a deep pit opens in my stomach.
Something's wrong—and I just can't put my finger on it.
I spend what's left of the afternoon on my laptop. Celeste has to work late tonight, so I'll go meet her at the office once she's done and accompany her home.
I'm just about to start another futile search into Coleman when I get a text from Kyle.
"Marcus, check the news."
Dread fills the pit in my stomach. Is Celeste—
I switch on my TV, and there she is.
My mother.
I stumble back from the TV, the spite in her eyes so clear it stings, even miles away.
And then I hear the words she's speaking.
—-----------------------
I'm not at my desk when Kyle comes looking for me. I've just made myself a fresh cup of coffee. I had a late lunch today, because my team meeting ran late, and I'm starting to feel the food coma come on.
The cream creates pretty swirls in the coffee as I stir it when a bang pulls my attention. Kyle barges into the break room, pale, and—are his hands shaking?
"There you are! Come on!" He grabs my wrist and starts pulling me towards the elevators.
"Kyle, what's wrong?"
"We need to get to Marcus's office. Hurry!"
That's how I find myself in front of the TV in Marcus's office, staring at his mother spouting horrific lies.
"Ma'am, are you sure you saw this woman, actress Celeste Shaw, at your son Marcus's home?"
"Indeed. And she was staying over. She was wearing my son's T-shirt and nothing else. I could tell she had seduced my son! Oh!"
Fake tears run down her face. "Marcus was never a good son to begin with! I've suffered so much as a mother! He was selfish, and demanding...His father and I put everything into raising him and ensuring he would become successful.
"Do you know how he paid us back? He drove a wedge between us, and then drove his father to an early grave!"
A younger man with the same eyes as hers and Marcus's stands beside her, patting her back.
"Now, my younger son's in trouble, and I had only just managed to convince Marcus to help him, when that demon—!" She points emphatically at the camera, "She convinced him to hold off!"
"That succubus has stolen what was left of my son from me!" She turns hatred filled eyes to the camera again.
"Celeste Shaw, mark my words. You might think he's great, but he's only listening to you to get in your pants. Once he's done with you, you'll be cast aside just like the rest of us. Marcus will only disappoint you.
"He was an inadequate son, and he'll be an inadequate partner. Let him return to us, so that we may help him straighten himself out."
The camera cuts to a reporter and I turn to Kyle in disbelief.
"Are people really going to buy this crap?" Kyle gestures to the TV, and even I can see the reporters eating it all up.
This is a scandal for the ages.
And I finally understand now why Marcus collected debts just like me.
He too was taught he'd never be good enough—that he'd never be worthy of love.
I understand a little now why Marcus might have turned away from me then.
I would be lying if I said I haven't seen the complete devotion in his eyes when he looks at me. That I hadn't seen the love there.
I can see now why he was so afraid, so insecure. I can understand why everybody's doubt broke him so much.
Oh, Marcus.
I turn to Kyle. "Where is Marcus?"
Kyle looks deeply disturbed. "I don't know. His schedule was clear today. He's usually at the office when he doesn't have meetings."
My phone is already in my hand. The dial tone rings as the call connects—straight to voicemail.
I call again.
Kyle's phone buzzes. "I was just telling Celeste, I don't know. I thought he was here."
Kyle hangs up. "Keith can't reach him. No one else can. I'm worried."
So am I.
"Listen Kyle, I'm going to take the rest of the day off. Call me if you hear from Marcus."
I grab my things and head straight to Marcus's.
—--------------------
Marcus's door vibrates on the hinges as the intensity of my banging increases.
What else can I do?
The doorbell has been disabled from the inside.
The lock is dead too.
Marcus has to be inside. What if he's unconscious? Or worse?
It was already early evening by the time I got here, and now the sun's gone. Lights should've come on inside, but I see nothing.
Keith and Ella have been hunting all their regular haunts with Kenneth and Legend while Kyle is managing the media fallout.
Worry clogs my throat as minutes pass without a response. I rack my brain, trying to think of a way in.
I have his key.
The master key he gave me—the one I completely forgot in my panic.
I fish around in my purse. Yes!
I slot the key and turn it, unsure what I'll find.
The door swings open, and the light outside illuminates some of the interior.
My pulse pounds in my throat as I slowly step inside. All the lights are off, except for the flickering static from the fractured screen of a damaged television.
Shattered glass carpets the floor—glittering in the faint light—the likely culprit behind the broken TV.
My gaze catalogues the wreckage in front of me slowly, before falling on the couch.
Marcus is sitting there, unmoving, folded in on himself. His palms are pressed to his eyes, and his whole body is still—like he's frozen in place.
I hop towards him, mapping my path in between shards of glass, slowly, cautiously and softly call his name.
He doesn't move.
I drop on the seat next to him and place my hand on his wrist, which is ice cold. "Marcus."
I tug on his hand and he finally raises his head.
His eyes are red and swollen, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone look this miserable.
His eyes finally register my presence. "Celeste," he whispers. My name sounds like a prayer on his lips.
His voice is raspy and barely audible. "I failed you completely. You got attacked again, because of me."
His breath hitches, and his eyes fill with tears. "I am so, so sorry. I dragged you into this mess."
Tears spill from his eyes and I can't hold myself back. I pull him into a hug, and his body has no resistance.
He collapses into me, silent sobs wracking his entire body. "I don't deserve you."
He keeps apologizing as he comes apart in my arms.
—-----------------------
Marcus is drowning. It's as if none of my words reach him.
So I do the only thing I can. I hold him.
He clings to me like I'm a life raft and the only thing that will save him from drowning.
It's while I hold Marcus that I realize he's lost weight. His cheeks are hollow, and the shadows under his electric blue eyes are darker and bigger than I remember.
His body shudders and I pull him closer.
Has he been sleeping at all?
"Marcus, come with me."
He stares at me, uncomprehending, so I tug on his hand and make him stand up.
He follows me to the bedroom and I push him on to the bed.
"Marcus, I want you to lie down. When was the last time you slept?"
He opens his mouth but no sound comes out.
I gently push him down, and he obeys, but his eyes never leave me so I slip in beside him and rest my face in the crook of his neck.
"Let's sleep."
His arms are wound so tight around me, I'm pressed against his length.
"Okay." He whispers against my hair, and we both close our eyes.
—-----------------------
It's the mattress twitching that wakes me up.
I pry my eyes open and try to make sense of where I am. Marcus is thrashing on the bed beside me.
Sweat coats his face and he flinches like he's being beaten.
"Please! I beg you! Please let her go! I'll do anything!"
He jerks again.
"No! Celeste!" He screams in his sleep. "Hit me! Don't touch her! No! Celeste!"
"Marcus!" I shake him as hard as I can. "Marcus, I'm here! Wake up!"
Marcus is so deep in the throes of his nightmare that he doesn't respond.
I know I'll get hurt if I try to restrain him—and Marcus will never forgive himself if he hurts me—so I do the opposite.
I slap him with all the strength I can muster.
My palm stings from the impact. I had to hurt Marcus to help him—my chest aches at the pain I likely caused him.
The slap rings through the empty room and Marcus snaps awake. He spots me the moment he wakes up and pulls me into a tight hug.
"You're okay." He pulls back and runs his hands over my face and shoulders, as if to make sure I'm actually fine.
"You're here. You're really okay."
He hugs me again, and I feel his heart pounding against his chest.
His clothes are soaked through, and he shivers as the cool air hits his body.
"I'm here. I'm safe. Everything is okay."
"Okay." He pulls me closer and holds me tighter.
A few minutes later, I sense his breathing ease, and his heart beat is calmer. His body is finally starting to relax against mine.
I pull away and cup his face.
"I'm going to bring you a cup of water, and while I do that, I want you to freshen up and change your clothes. Can you do that for me?"
He nods. He looks far more present and in control.
"Good. Now go."
I watch him as he walks to the ensuite and shuts the door behind him before I bring him some water from the kitchen. The shattered glass sits on the floor, proof of the nightmare that seems to have only just begun.
I debate cleaning it up, but finally decide it's okay to leave it for another day.
I quietly walk back, to find Marcus changed and already sitting on his bed, waiting.
I hand him the cup and he sips the water in silence, gathering his thoughts.
"Do you get nightmares often?"
He nods. "I've had nightmares ever since I was unlawfully detained in a prison in Beijing. Sometimes I see my dad dying, and I'm unable to help him. Sometimes I'm back in that prison, unable to get out."
"And today?"
He swallows hard. "You were trapped in that prison. They were hurting you, and I couldn't do anything."
His face pales at the memory.
I take his hand and place it on my cheek. "Look at me Marcus."
He raises his eyes. "I'm absolutely fine."
He nods and caresses my face.
"Did I tell you how sorry I was?" His voice is a whisper, but each word is crystal clear.
"Yes. And I forgive you."
He doesn't look happy. "Maybe you shouldn't."
"That's entirely my call to make, won't you agree?"
He studies my face and nods slowly. "Okay. Then I'll gratefully accept."
I bite my lip, wondering about how to bring up his mother, but he does it for me.
"I'm very sorry about what that woman said about you. It's all my fault."
Then he tells me how she came here to coerce him. I'm absolutely furious.
"How the hell is that your fault?! If you give her one cent Marcus Holden, I'll make you pay for the rest of our lives!"
His eyes widen and mouth drops open. "We'll have a 'rest of our lives' to worry about then?"
"Didn't you hear what I said? The man I'm dating isn't weak enough to give in to blackmail, is he?"
"He isn't?" His question is tentative, and I'm tempted to smack him upside his head.
"That woman slandered the man I'm dating, insulted me, and all so she can coerce you for money. We're not paying."
"Dating?"
"Are you glitching on me?"
He grabs my arm and pulls me close.
He's kissing me with an urgency that makes me forget what I'm about.
He smells like fresh cologne.
My hands roam over and caress his shoulders. His body is well defined, and I can feel the strength in his muscles.
He lifts me into his lap and deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint and salt. I can't have enough of him.
—--------------------------
Celeste is in my arms. She is kissing me back. She said we're dating.
My fingers twitch, and I'm squeezing her slender waist.
My hands travel up her back and rest in her hair.
I pull her closer—I need her. To me, she's the air I breathe.
Our kiss deepens. She tastes like mango candy. Sweet and tart.
Her fingers twist in my hair and tug, and I'm lost to her.
I don't know how much later, I pull back and rest my forehead against her.
"If we don't stop now, I don't think I'll be able to stop at all."
"Do we have to?" She pouts, and I'm so tempted to bite her lips.
"Yes we do. You've only just agreed to date me. Let's take our time. No rush."
She smiles at me. "Okay. No rush."
I smile back and fall into bed with her in my arms.
Celeste's warmth anchors me, but a cold fury burns in my bones.
My mother—no, Eva and her son, Seth—they'll pay for daring to even look in Celeste's direction.
And I know exactly how.