Chapter 18

Gracen

Marek’s breathing seems deep and steady, thus it’s a good time to make my escape. I’m embarrassed I’m still in his bed. Even more embarrassed that I’ve got my head on his chest and my arm wrapped around his waist. When the morning sunlight filtered in under his roman shades and woke me up, I’d silently berated myself for still being here.

This was supposed to be a one-night-only thing, fueled by drunken desires.

That did not mean cuddling in bed, and I sure as hell don’t want to face any wrath he might be feeling to find me here.

Marek’s arms are stretched wide to either side of his body, so the cuddling was one-sided last night. We’d gone at each other twice more after we got into his bed, and then practically passed out from exhaustion and too much alcohol. At some point in the night, I’d unwittingly curled into him.

Now I’m uncurling.

I manage to slide out of bed without him noticing, giving one last look at his perfect body lying splendidly naked in the middle. His head is turned slightly toward the window and his chest is rising and falling deeply.

After slinking naked into the dining room, I put on my clothes that had been discarded last night. Memories of what he did to me on that table cause me to flush hot. I pick up Marek’s clothes, fold them, and lay them on the table. I’ll throw them into his laundry basket later.

At one point last night, Marek was tossing me around and putting me in different positions on the bed. All that sliding around left a rat’s nest on my head, but nothing a little conditioner won’t help right now. A soft sigh escapes at the prospect of a hot, cleansing shower to wipe away all evidence of last night so we can go back to being just parents to Lilly. Why that thought makes me so sad isn’t hard to figure out, since I’m the one with residual feelings.

I tiptoe from the dining room through the formal sitting room. As I make my way past the white leather sofa separating the area from the foyer, movement from my left catches my eyes. I turn to look at the large double doors that are mostly glass, and my heart practically stops as I see Owen walking up the front porch steps.

Owen is here.

I walk quickly toward him before he can knock or ring the doorbell. As I approach, his head lifts and his eyes lock on me.

He is not happy.

I unlock the door, step onto the porch, and pull it shut behind me, cringing at the tiny tinkling of bells just inside sounding from the camera/motion detector Marek has mounted just above the door. Thank God I shut his bedroom door when I crept out; he’ll sleep on oblivious.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss at him angrily.

He doesn’t respond, but instead gives me a slow, cold perusal running his eyes in scrutinizing fashion from my toes to my head. His eyes linger and narrow on my breasts, and I cross my arms across them protectively.

This amuses him and his smirking gaze slides up to my face. “You’re not answering my calls or texts, Gracen. What did you think I’d do?”

“Why would I answer your calls or texts?” I snap at him, but I’m still able to keep my voice low. “I told you I wasn’t coming back. The wedding is off.”

“Don’t you love me?” he asks mockingly.

I refuse to answer him, just lifting my chin higher.

“Don’t you love your parents?” he snarls, taking a step toward me. “Or did you forget I’ve got the power to ruin them?”

My stomach rolls with nausea over the threat to my mom and dad. I have no good comeback, because the bank has not responded to my email or follow-up call. I made my choice to potentially abandon them when I called off the wedding, and now I’m regretting that.

I decide I’m not above begging Owen. I’ll plead with him not to take this out on two innocent people caught in the crossfire of this weird and volatile obsession he has with me. Perhaps he has a soul buried down deep.

But I don’t get a chance to lower myself, because the door flies open and Marek is storming out onto the porch. He’s got on his shorts zipped but unbuttoned, and his hair is as bad as mine. My fingers spent a lot of time there last night.

“What in the fuck are you doing on my property?” Marek barks at Owen as he positions himself in front of my body, shielding me completely.

“Coming to get my property,” Owen sneers back, but I don’t even have time to be affronted.

Marek’s right arm flies and his fist connects solidly with the right side of Owen’s face. There’s a splatting sort of sound when knuckles hit flesh and the force of the punch spins Owen toward the front door. Marek wastes no time, grabbing Owen by the back of the shirt and spinning him swiftly the opposite way. He gives a shove to Owen’s shoulder blades and he goes flying off the porch. He misses the first step, manages to land a foot on the next one, but with arms windmilling he goes sailing face first into the small area of landscaping that borders the walkway. He takes out a small azalea bush and rolls over before popping up to his feet.

Owen’s a fit guy with the build of a linebacker. He’s got a little brawn on Marek, and I expect him to come charging back. Instead, he rubs his fingers gingerly over his jaw and gives a condescending smile to Marek.

“Guess I know whose property she is now,” Owen taunts Marek before sliding his gaze to me. “It’s clear you two are fucking.”

My face flushes hot with embarrassment.

“Guess it’s only fitting,” Owen says, then swivels his jaw a bit. “I mean, I took your sloppy seconds, Marek. They’re even sloppier now.”

“You’re going to pay for that,” Marek snarls, and starts across the porch. Rage contorts his face until I can’t even recognize him.

I lurch forward and put myself in his path. My hands go to his chest and I have to lean all of my weight forward to slow him down.

But I don’t stop him. His hands come to my shoulders to push me out of the way.

“Marek, please don’t,” I murmur to him, sliding to stand directly in front of him again. He just looks right over my head at Owen standing in the yard, his eyes blazing with an unholy sheen of violence. “He’s not worth it.”

A few moments roll by, and Marek doesn’t move. His eyes are locked on Owen and his jaw is clenched so tight I’m afraid his teeth might crack.

“Think of the season starting,” I continue in a soft voice. “You don’t want to get in trouble.”

I get nothing from him, muscles still coiled taut and hatred in his eyes as he glares at Owen.

“Marek,” I implore, but he won’t look at me. “Think of Lilly. I don’t want to have to explain to her why her daddy is in jail.”

And just like that, Marek’s body loosens and he drops his eyes to me. I can still see the heat bubbling deep within, now tempered a bit with frustration that he can’t beat the shit out of Owen.

He takes in a breath and nods. I let my hands drop away from him, and turn to face Owen.

But it’s Marek who does the talking. His voice is surprisingly cool and collected when he says, “Get off my property. And if I catch you anywhere near Gracen or Lilly again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it.”

Owen doesn’t say a word, but turns his smirk my way. He points is finger right at me, which can be taken in no way other than a threat. “You’re a bad daughter, Gracen. Tell Mommy and Daddy I said hello.”

“Go fuck yourself, Owen,” I snarl back at him, letting my anger finally win out over the pressing guilt weighing down on me.

I should have left well enough alone, because Owen gives a delighted laugh, lowering his hand. He shakes his head, amused over the little bit of fight he sees within me. “Can’t believe you’re letting your parents down like that, Gracen. No loyalty whatsoever.”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Marek asks in a low voice.

I ignore Marek.

I ignore Owen.

I turn my back on both of them and march into the house. I’m filled with anger and disgust and downright helplessness. It makes me want to throw up, so I hightail it up the stairs to my bathroom.

Leaning over my sink, I splash cold water on my face, taking deep breaths. Not only was that about the most unpleasant confrontation I’ve ever had in my life, but now I’ve got to figure some things out where my parents are concerned. I know about the only thing left to do is to call them and tell them that I couldn’t save their house.

Not that they really knew I was trying to save it, but maybe we can discuss it and come up with another solution. Maybe they can go to the bank and work out a monthly payment that’s acceptable and I could afford. I make decent money as a nurse, and I’ve got no real expenses while living here at Marek’s.

I bend over, cup another handful of water, and dunk my face into it. As the water dribbles away, I straighten up, only to find Marek standing behind me. His reflection in the mirror puts me on edge.

“What was Owen talking about?” His voice is hard, giving me some inkling that he’s not going to accept a bullshit story.

“It’s nothing,” I say as I grab the towel to wipe my face off. When I turn to face Marek, I add, “Just some personal financial stuff you don’t have to worry about.”

A muscle ticks in Marek’s jaw and he crosses his arms over his chest.

God, what a chest, I think, and my face goes warm remembering how I slept on top of it last night.

“Try again,” Marek says through gritted teeth. “That guy has something over you and your parents, and he’s clearly batshit crazy coming all the way down here to taunt you with it. Now, you may not think it’s any of my business, but Lilly lives in this house and I want to know what’s going on.”

His proclamation that he’s now Lilly’s chief protector is both warming and humiliating to me. I love how much he innately loves her, but it’s also a clear reminder that I’m lacking in my abilities to provide and protect as well as he can.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle—”

“Gracen,” Marek says in a low voice. “The truth.”

My mouth opens and closes as if it wants to let the words pour out, but they just don’t come. I’m too humiliated to admit to him how stupid I was to agree to marry someone essentially for money. It wouldn’t be my money, but Owen would handle my parents’ debt.

“Last chance,” Marek says ominously.

I swallow hard, but I can’t bring myself to admit what a dumbass I am.

“Stubborn as ever,” Marek mutters softly, and spins away from me. As he heads out of my bedroom, I hear him say, “I’m sure your parents can tell me what’s going on.”

It takes several seconds for his words to penetrate, but then I’m flying down the stairs to catch up with him. I find him in his bedroom, flipping through his contacts. It doesn’t surprise me at all he’d still have my parents’ cell phone numbers.

“Marek, don’t,” I hiss at him as I make a grab for his phone. He turns away from me, stabbing his finger on the screen.

He puts the phone to his ear, dodges a second attempt by me to get the phone, and then I’m frozen when he says, “Sheryl, hey, it’s Marek.”

I imagine my mom has to be shocked as hell to be getting a call from him. Whatever my mom is saying on the other line causes a fond smile to tip the corners of Marek’s mouth up.

His voice is tender when he says, “Yeah, it’s good to hear your voice too.”

My chest squeezes hard, and then I feel a warm, gooey sensation flood through me. Marek loved my parents as I loved his. He still cares for them, and that touches me deeply.

“Listen…is Tim around? I need you to put this on speaker so he can listen in.”

My jaw drops and I make another futile grab for the phone, to do what with it I don’t know. Maybe drop it down the garbage disposal to prevent this call from going a step further.

Marek taps his speakerphone button and then I hear my mom’s voice, “Okay, Marek. Tim’s standing here with me too. Are Gracen and Lilly okay?”

Marek gives a slight wince from the worry in my mom’s tone. He quickly assures her, though. “They’re both fine. Gracen is standing here with me now, also on speakerphone. Lilly’s with my parents.”

“Hey, honey,” Tim Moore says to his daughter. I’m close to my mom, but I’m also a daddy’s girl. He would have been right beside Marek on that porch, beating Owen to a pulp for the things he said.

“Hey, Dad,” I say softly, my throat threatening to close off.

Marek, not one to beat around the bush says, “Owen Waller was just here at my house. Long story short, he said some shitty things to Gracen and I punched him. He’s gone now, but he said something before he left that has me worried.”

My eyes plead with Marek not to go into this with my parents. I’m not prepared just yet for everyone to know just how far I’d sunk with Owen.

He stares at me, acknowledging my silent request, but his lips are pressed into a grim line. He leans over the phone and says, “Before he left, he’d said Gracen was a bad daughter. And then it was creepy as hell when he said, ‘Tell Mommy and Daddy I said hello.’ Now I know Gracen is the furthest thing from a bad daughter, but she won’t tell me what the hell is going on. I need to know, because I want to know how to handle this douche if he shows back up.”

My parents are silent, and I imagine it’s because they have no clue what’s going on. They were absolutely kept in the dark by me and had no clue I was marrying Owen in a desperate attempt to save their house.

Marek’s eyes stay pinned on me expectantly, and the silence coming through the phone from my parents is brutal.

It makes me take a deep breath and admit to all three of them, “I was marrying Owen because he was going to pay off your note that was in default with the bank.”

Marek blinks at me in surprise and confusion.

I rush to fill more of the silence. “Obviously, since I’m not marrying him now, he’s going to push it through. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop it. I tried but…well…I just can’t marry him.”

“Gracen Calliope Moore,” my mom shrieks into the phone, and I wince as Marek holds the phone farther away from him and toward me. I take a step backward. “How could you agree to do something so stupid? You marry for love, not for money.”

My face burns so hot that I feel sweat pop out on my forehead and upper lip. “It didn’t start out that way,” I feel the need to defend myself.

But then my words stutter as even I know how lame that sounds. I knew from the get-go that Owen was a horrible person and I’d never love him. Rather than cut it off, I let him suck me into this notion that he could at least be a savior to me and my parents.

“I just can’t believe this,” my mom says in bewilderment. “I’m so disappointed in you, Gracen.”

My shoulders slump and my gaze drops to the floor. My parents’ approval means the world to me, and while I knew they would be pissed, I’m not prepared to handle their shame in me.

“Let’s not go there, Sheryl,” Marek says tightly into the phone, and my head pops up in disbelief he’d defend me. I know he has got to think I’m a dipshit too. His eyes come to me, but he’s asking my parents, “What are the terms of the note? I’ll help you out with it.”

I expect silence from my parents. They’re prideful and won’t want his help. Instead, my dad chuckles into the phone. “We don’t need help with the note. It will be paid off soon.”

“What?” I say through lips numb with shock over this revelation. My father’s been out of work for a long time.

“Well, your mom and I found out several months ago that we have natural gas on our property. We’ve been working with an attorney to explore avenues. We looked at letting them put a well on the property and leasing rights, but ultimately we just decided to sell the place to a gas company, which will include payment of the second mortgage.”

“You’re selling the house?” My voice is thick because my mouth is so dry.

“There’s apparently a lot of gas,” my dad says with another chuckle, but then his voice turns somber. “I’m regretting not telling you this now. We were going to keep it as a surprise and help you and Lilly get set up in a home of your own.”

I stumble a few feet backward, my legs hitting the edge of Marek’s bed. I sit down heavily on the mattress, staring at the floor.

“Owen knew about it,” my mom says, and my head snaps back up to look at the phone with surprise. “He’s been trying to buy this place from your dad and me for months now. I find it horrendous that he stopped asking once you agreed to marry him, I guess figuring he’d get it through inheritance.”

“But how did he know?” Marek asks.

“Because we provided a letter of intent to the bank, showing them the proof of the gas and that we were in the process of leasing or selling. It’s why the bank extended the note for us the first time. But after you left for North Carolina, Owen started hounding us again.”

“And we would have sold to him too,” my mom adds. “But he just wasn’t offering enough. The gas company offered more than triple what he did.”

And I feel officially broken. I put myself through hell dating Owen and then agreeing to marry him. I went through a painful and humiliating process of planning a sham wedding all for money, and I worried myself sick over my parents’ debt.

This entire time…

For months they knew everything would be okay and I had no clue.

“Listen,” I hear Marek say softly, but my gaze is pinned back on the carpet. “I think Gracen’s had enough. How about I have her call you later, okay?”

My parents give farewells, but I’ve already disconnected mentally. I’m beyond ecstatic that my parents don’t have any financial woes, but I’m so disappointed in myself that I just need some time to process. I push off Marek’s bed and walk out of his room.

He doesn’t follow me.