Page 51 of Deep in Her Marrow

Larry’s lips twitch. “We were never truly alone,” he looks at me with a knowing gleam in his eyes, “were we son?”

Her mother stops short and turns her glare to me. “What is he yapping about, Jacob?” She crosses her arms over her chest the same way Cadie currently has hers. The similarities between them are even more obvious when they’re pissed. They even call me by my full name.

I scratch the side of my beard. “Ya, see,” I start before Sprite interrupts me.

“Oh, my God! You had someone following us the whole day?” She looks shocked before her fiery eyes narrow once again. “That’s why your phone has been going off like crazy all day isn’t it?” Her foot has started tapping, letting me know I should make sure to stand outside her throwing distance.

I glance sideways, “Can we talk about this later?”

“No, we’re not going to talk about this later,” she scoffs. “Why would I want to wait to hear everything?”

Marc coughs into his hand and steps forward. “Probably because we still have to take yourofficialstatements.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Need to make sure to cross the T’s and dot the I’s and all of that good stuff.”

Her lips purse, but thankfully she nods her head in agreement. “I don’t really know much. I was awakened, told someone was breaking in and then got tossed into a safe room where I was locked in supposedly for my safety.” She smiles sweetly even though her tone is pure acid.

“Right.” Marc smirks at me before looking at her parents. “And ah, were you guys tossed into the safe room as well?” He only snickers mildly. Jackass.

“Nope, we were locked in our bedroom. We didn’t even wake up until we heard you all yelling.” Larry supplies with a grin. At least I have someone who’s sort of on my side.

“All right, well, we’ll just be needing your security footage to verify everything, and we’ll be on our way so that you folks can get back to bed.” He’s enjoying this too much for my liking. At least Damon has gone back to being a statue. I’ll take him any day.

“I’ll forward it over via email. It’s all cloud based. No hard copies,” I tell him.

“Okay, we’ll be in touch,” Marc states before giving me a chin lift and walking out, Damon on his heels without a backward glance.

Once the door closes, I am met by expectant looks making me grimace. “I guess I’ll make some coffee,” I say to no one in particular and hightail it out of the living room and into the kitchen. I’m not normally a coward, but fuck, the hostility radiating off Cadie and her mother could kill easily.

I get the coffee started and place my hands on the counter and drop my head.

It’s going to be a rough-ass night.

It’sbeenthreedayssince Dominic broke into the house. Three days of feeling angry, sad, scared, happy, overjoyed, and betrayed. None of them stay for very long, passing through me at the speed of light constantly throughout the day. I wish I could just stick to one emotion, but I can’t. I’m a jumbled-up mess right now and can’t seem to stop it; though my anger has abated a bit. Especially after my parents told me to go easy on Marrow before they left yesterday because he was only trying to protect me.

After making him explain everything for hours that night, my parents forgave him almost immediately. Especially after hearing how long Dominic will most likely be put in jail. That pretty much solidified their forgiveness as well as earning their undying love and gratitude. To say I felt outnumbered is an understatement.

I mean, logically, yes, I understand why Jake did what he did. I know in my heart and soul that he planned all of this to protect me and give me peace of mind. And it worked. For the first time in years, I feel as if I can take a full breath. It’s liberating knowing that I won’t have to look over my shoulder every time I leave the house. I didn’t even realize how much of a weight that was dragging me down until it was lifted.

But even sort of understanding all of that, I am still just so angry with him. I’ve barely spoken to him, except out of necessity. The only real conversation we had was when he asked me if I wanted him to leave. I thought that he just meant for a day or two until he continued about moving all of his stuff and leaving me the house. I was so shocked that I was actually speechless! I mean I’m upset with him, but I still love the overbearing, paranoid, annoying man. I can’t believe he actually thought I would want to end our relationship because of this. Men are so freaking thick sometimes. Even after I told him that we were fine, minus me not wanting to speak to him for a bit, he still looked at me like I was about to crush him. Actually he still does.

I glance across the couch and see him looking at me like I kicked his puppy. Grrr, he is so damn infuriating! It’s so frustrating that I want to be angry with him for going behind my back and doing all of this. But how am I supposed to do that when he looks so beaten down the whole time?

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” I growl in utter annoyance and kind of want to throw something at him.

“Like what?” He has the nerve to look confused. I really understand why some women go crazy and strangle their partners. He’s maddening!

I stand from the couch in frustration and wave my hand in the general direction of his face. “Like that. Like you’re worried I’m just going to disappear on you or something. It’s irritating!” My voice gets louder even though I don’t mean for it to do so. “I just want to be angry with you, and you looking at me like that is making it difficult. Why can’t I just be mad for a little while without you making me feel guilty about it?” I huff and storm into the kitchen. I need to calm down and baking is the best way I know how to do that.

I go about getting out all of the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Hopefully, those gooey, chocolatey babies will curb my anger. I bumble around annoyed for a good few minutes in peace as I mix up everything, thankfully remembering to preheat the oven as I pop the dough into the fridge to chill before balling the dough to drop onto a cookie sheet. Not everyone believes in this step, but I feel it’s crucial for well-shaped cookies.

I’m just closing the fridge door when I feel his presence, because I sure as hell didn’t hear him, stupid ninja cat skills. I look over my shoulder and see him leaning against the doorway, making my mouth water a tiny bit since he’s in low hanging black sweat pants. And I know full well that he purposely didn’t put on a shirt just to torture me with his abs and that damned V. I glare at him for making me want him just by standing there.

“Whatchya makin’?” he asks casually.

“Chocolate chip cookies.” I narrow my eyes. “For myself.” I sniff and haughtily lean against the counter, well, as best as I can at my height anyway.

His lips twitch but he doesn’t comment on my passive aggressiveness. Which is probably for the best. I know I’m just itching to yell at him some more, so it’s probably better that he doesn’t engage me.

He strolls in and pulls out one of the kitchen chairs. He takes a seat and looks at me calmly. “How long are you planning on being upset with me?” He holds up a hand. “I’m not saying I don’t deserve it; I was just wondering how long I need to worry about getting bashed over the head with a rolling pin or something.”

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