บททั้งหมดของ MY EX-BOYFRIEND WANTS ME BACK: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

I didn't know how to act, what to say, or how to say it all through the ride to Alex's house. God knows this was the last thing I would want. Staying in his house? Gosh, that sounded like having to walk on eggshells! It sounded really crazy.But you know what's crazier? Marcus’ face under that tree. Dressed in that shiny black leather outfit that made him look like a black panther in the dark. Ugh!That sight was scary. I stood there, by that window, transfixed, hand turned white on the curtains. Mary knocked again and my heart flew over the roof as I spun fast. By the time she stepped in I was already panting like I had fallen from a tall tree.Then I looked back, he was gone. It was almost like I was hallucinating. Exactly what he was good at, making you lose your mind and question your sanity.I knew it was best to lock up the mansion. Alex was right. I could tell Marcus was still lurking around somewhere. And what happens when he crept up on me in the middle of the night? I couldn

I turned slowly, my eyes burning from another night with almost no sleep. I didn’t even remember drifting off. One minute I was staring at the ceiling, the next the room was bright with morning light. Blinding me. But what cut deepest was the silence after my words, after telling her what Marcus said. Lena hadn’t defended it. She hadn’t looked at me and said the baby was mine. She hadn’t called my name. She hadn’t stopped me when I walked up the stairs. She just sat there, hands in her lap, eyes on the floor, letting his claim hang in the air like smoke. I hated that she remained quiet. That the flicker in her eyes didn't die, they stood there, igniting anger in me. Did I not mean anything? Did we not have any understanding? What about the way she looked at me? I wanted her to fight for us. For me. For the tiny life I had already started imagining, tiny hands, her smile, my eyes. I had pictured it every night since I found out. I had driven to her doctor’s appointments even wh

The day had been long and loud, the kind that left no room for anything else. I had lost count of the number of cases I had attended to just this morning. People shuffled in and out of the station, like the city was going agog.Captain Ramirez barked from his office doorway, either shouting at one warden or shouting out an order, his voice rough from too many cigarettes. Detective Bradford kept dropping new files on my desk, thick folders with red stamps, always whispering how urgent each one was. I had expected it to be that way this morning. Especially with the news that had made headlines.I spent hours bent over case files, flipping through statements, marking timelines, asking the same questions to suspects who gave the same tired answers. My eyes burned from staring at screens. My shoulders ached from leaning forward. Every time I paused to grab the lukewarm coffee from the corner of my desk, the bitterness hit the back of my throat and my mind drifted to her.Lena.What was s

I woke up with my head pounding like someone was hammering nails into my skull.The mattress beneath me was thin and lumpy, springs digging into my back. I blinked slowly. The room came into view in pieces, a small square space with peeling beige walls, a tiny window right behind the four-post bed. My eyes strayed still to the rickety wooden table pushed against the far wall. On the table sat a dusty ceramic vase with a few dried-up flowers, petals curled brown and brittle. The air smelled of old dust and something sharper, like mold and danger mixed together.I tried to sit up. My body felt heavy, sluggish. A wave of nausea rolled through me. I pressed a hand to my forehead. The skin there burned hot under my palm. I swallowed hard, my throat had gone dry and scratchy.Voices drifted in from outside the room, low and muffled, one familiar and smooth, the other rough and husky. I turned my head toward the slightly open door. My neck ached with the movement.Marcus.His voice floated

Her hands shook, the groaning sound of the man was destabilizing her, the burner phone in his hand was ringing, vibrating insistently. She knew at once who it was. Marcus. And he could sense the tension in the man if the man picked up. Then her eyes flashed to the table that stood against the wall, she stretched out her leg, and grabbed the vase that stood on it.“Lord, forgive me for what I'm about to do,” she muttered in her throat, hands shaking still. She lifted the vase in her hands and smashed it against the back of his head. The man sprawled to the dusty floor, vibrating like life was leaving him, blood spilled to the floor. Then he went still. Her heart thumped, chest rising fast, she bent over, felt his pulse, it was there but weak. He was unconscious. She pulled off him quickly. Time to act, not pity.She turned, grabbed her bag off the bed, something crashed across the floor from the bag, her eyes darted toward the sound once, it was her wristwatch.Every second mattered