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“You were gone.” Her building manager turned his glare on her. “How was I supposed to know when you were returning? You left me. I had to find some way to cope!”
She was shocked at his vitriol. Why was he blaming her? She hardly ever spoke to the man and here he was–in her space—oh lord.
“And your way of coping is to jizz all over her stuff? Fuck, man, you need therapy. That’s disgusting.”
She was close to vomiting.
Looked like she was going to let Marcus buy her all new stuff after all.
“Why should you need to cope? I don’t even know you. And this is my apartment!” she snapped. “You shouldn’t even be here, and you shouldn’t be doing that.”
“We should call the cops,” Marcus said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “This guy is fucked in the head. He’s got stalker written all over him and not the good kind.”
There was good kind of stalker? She pushed that out of her head. Not important.
“You’re not calling the cops!” Mr. Fenton snarled.
“Should have listened closer when you said he was a creep,” Marcus said, tapping his phone. “And I’m starting to wonder if he gave that asshole who robbed you a copy of your key.”
Oh god. Now she felt even more violated.
“Give me your phone!” Mr. Fenton ran over to Marcus, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him down.
She screamed.
“Run, Isla!” Marcus yelled as Mr. Fenton grabbed his phone.
Yeah, no. Not happening. She wasn’t leaving him here.
Mr. Fenton drew his foot back to kick Marcus and she let out a screech, jumping on his back. “You leave him alone!”
She managed to get her arms around his neck. But as he moved from side to side to shake her off, her hold slipped.
“Get off me, you little bitch!”
Marcus jumped to his feet and let out a yell, smacking his chest with his fists. “You’re going down, fucker! I’ve clocked over two thousand hours of Street Fighter.”
Oh hell.
Marcus drew up his fists.
They were dead meat.
“What the fuck is going on in here!”
Relief flooded her as Cullen stepped into the room, his face filled with fury. She was so surprised, her grip loosened and as Mr. Fenton turned his body, she went flying, landing against the wall with a thump that made her moan in pain.
“Isla!”
“Baby!”
She sucked in a breath. Had she imagined his voice? Had she hit her head? Marcus filled her vision as she heard Cullen yelling at Mr. Fenton.
“Isla, are you all right?” Marcus asked frantically, running his hands over her.
She stared past him into another concerned face. One she never thought she’d see again.
“I don’t think so.”
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.
“I’m seeing things.”
“You’re not seeing things, little one,” Eliot said.
Marcus turned, falling back on his ass as he gaped up at Eliot.
“So I’m not hallucinating then?” she asked.
“If you are, we both are,” Marcus told her. “Could be those mushrooms we ate for breakfast.”
“I bought those from the market. You were with me.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re not magic.”
“Are either of you hurt? You hit the wall hard,” Eliot said with concern.
“I’m all right. Eliot… why are you here?” she asked.
Some scuffling sounded from across the room, and she glanced over in shock to see Cullen wrestling with Mr. Fenton.
Holy crap.
“I’ve got to go help Cullen,” Eliot said. “But I need you both to know that I’m here because I made a huge mistake. I was trying to protect myself and ended up hurting all of us. But I’m here now and I’m going nowhere.”
“Fucking let me go! This is assault!” Mr. Fenton roared.
Cullen had him pinned to the wall. But the guy was built like a brick wall and managed to push Cullen back, smacking him in the face.
“Both of you get downstairs. Now.” He spun and rushed over to help Cullen, who had blood gushing down his face.
Marcus helped her up and they both stood watching for a moment.
“Is this actually happening?” Marcus asked. “I’m not hallucinating from lack of sleep?”
“If you are, I am too. Shit. I should call the cops.”
“Isla! Marcus! Downstairs, now!” Eliot roared.
“Whoa. He’s sexy when he’s being all protective,” Marcus said.
Yeah, he was.
“Should we do as he says?” she asked as both Eliot and Cullen pinned Mr. Fenton down.
“Marcus! Call the cops!” Cullen yelled out.
“He broke my phone!” Marcus told him.
“I’ve got mine.” She reached for her handbag, only to realise she was no longer holding it. Uh-oh.
“Both of you downstairs, now. Or we’ll be having a long talk soon, and it won’t be pleasant,” Eliot told them.
“Is long talk code word for spanking?” Marcus asked as Mr. Fenton tried to shove them off. He was seriously strong.
“It will be if you agree to be mine,” Eliot retorted.
“For how long?” Isla asked. This probably wasn’t the time for this conversation. But she had to know why he was here.
