Chapter 14: Home Sweet Home
I lay there frozen while my eyes looked around my bedroom—I was alone. I was lying in bed, wrapped snuggly in a blanket.
It was a dream, I thought thankfully. I was just about to sit up when Marcus walked through the door. I flinched—a painful mistake. I clutched my side in agony. It wasn’t a dream.
“What’s wrong?” I could hear the dread in his voice.
“Nothing,” I lied. The pain had subsided some. I breathed out slowly, trying to calm myself.
“Phoebe.”
“Really, I’m fine. You just scared me; that’s all.” I forced a small smile.
He studied me for a moment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he said with regret. “I brought your car back for you.”
“Thanks. I just opened my eyes actually.”
He sat down beside me. His face looked strained. I knew he had questions for me . . . questions I didn’t want to answer.
I could feel the tears building up and spilling over. “I should have stayed home,” I cried, the very act causing my body unprecedented pain; which only made me cry harder. “I shouldn’t have gone out alone.”
“No, no.” He lifted me gingerly onto his lap and began rocking me. The gentle movement causing me to winced mentally. There was no way I could tell Marcus I’d been injured.
“I’ve always been safe there,” I sobbed. “He’s never acted like that before. I couldn’t get him off me. He was crushing me . . . pulling at my clothes . . . I couldn’t breathe.” I cried hard now that I was safe in Marcus's arms. I held on to him, ignoring the shooting pains in my side.
His grip on me tightened. “Who?” he asked flatly.
“Brian,” I sniffled.
Marcus's breath caught. “He hurt you?”
I looked up into Marcus's face. I could see the fear in his eyes as he waited for my answer. I turned away from him.
“Phoebe?” his voice was shaky.
A long moment passed before I had the courage to look at him again. He looked furious. His eyes dropped to the tattered shirt where my fingers where nervously fiddling.
“Brian did that to you?” It wasn’t really a question I needed to answer. He knew.
“Marcus . . .”
“I’ll take care of it.” His face showed no sign of mercy. His eyes, black as ebony, looked sadly into mine as he sat me back down on the bed. “Don’t think on it any longer, my love.” He kissed my forehead and stood up to leave.
“Where are you going?” I grabbed onto his arm desperately.
“To track a different kind of monster,” he said. His words were laced with venom. “I’m not going to allow him to live after what he did to you.”
My heart stopped, and for a moment, time itself stood still. Marcus was going to kill Brian? He couldn’t. I couldn’t let him have Brian’s death on his hands because of me . . . and part of me didn’t think Brian deserved such a horrific death either.
“Don’t leave me alone!” I cried.
“Phoebe, you’re safe now.” He touched my cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes were growing deadlier by the moment. “You don’t have to worry about Brian touching you again.”
“Marcus please . . . don’t leave me alone . . . I’m begging you!”
He stared at me, probably thinking my tears were based solely on fear, if he only knew.
“Very well, I won’t leave, just yet,” he added subtly as he sat down and wrapped his arms around me once more. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need me.”
I sighed with relief. I was safe with Marcus. He’d never let any of them touch me. I snuggled into his body, allowing him to hold me tighter still.
“Phoebe,” I could feel the tension in his arms. “I must ask, did he . . .?”
“No.” I knew what he was implying. “He didn’t get the chance,” I added thankfully. “Although, I don’t think he would have stopped if Damen hadn’t torn him off me.” I shivered as I recalled the attack.
“Damen was there?” he hissed.
“Yes,” I squeaked. “He pulled him off me when he was . . .” I stopped, shuddering once more. I didn’t want to remember Brian’s hands on my body. I folded my arms across my chest protectively.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, trying to warm them. “Damen helped you?”
I nodded. “He threw Brian into a tree!”
“He didn’t kill him?” Marcus mocked.
“No . . . he didn’t,” I said incredulously, still amazed myself that Damen had let Brian go. “Brian was so jealous you stayed the night with me . . . I’ve never seen him so crazed. He’s never forced himself on me before.”
I shivered, recalling the hateful look in Brian’s eyes. “He’ll be back. He said this wasn’t over.”
“He’s right,” Marcus threatened. “It isn’t over. But I can promise you Phoebe, he won’t come near you again.”
“Damen tried to persuade me into letting him take me home,” I added reluctantly, trying to change the topic a little. “I wouldn’t let him. I know he helped me, and I am grateful . . . but I can’t trust him.” I prattled on nervously. “I won’t listen to his lies. I saw his memories. I know the truth.” I was practically ranting now. The events of today had finally cracked me.
“He kept saying I misunderstood things, but I didn’t. I saw him in the woods with Phoebe; I saw him kill her and the baby. What kind of monster—”
Marcus grabbed hold of me, bringing me to attention. He held my face, his eyes wide with wonder. “What baby?”
My mouth hung open. I was speechless.
His face was shrouded in shock as he realized what I’d said, what had been kept from him, all this time.
“You were with child?” His eyes looked down at my stomach as he was trying to comprehend his own question. He looked back at me with a wild, uncontrollable rage in his eyes.
“She,” I clarified.
Marcus looked at me as though I were splitting hairs. “She was with child?” He rephrased the question, through gritted teeth. “How do you know this?”
I felt myself recoiling from him. “My dreams,” I admitted. “The night she was killed, she wanted to tell you desperately, but Damen challenged her when she wouldn’t step out of his way. He was going after you!” I exclaimed.
Marcus's eyes wandered the room, as if looking for answers elsewhere.
“She loved you more than anything,” I continued, trying to defend her actions. “She knew she was going to die. She sacrificed herself to save you,” I pointed out, like her sacrifice had been for a good cause.
“For me? She died . . . to save . . . me. She sacrificed our child, to save me?” he growled angrily.
I bit my lip, afraid to say anymore.
“I had no idea,” he sounded far away as he thought.
I reached out to touch his arm. He slammed his fist down on my bed, causing me to recoil once more.
“I would never have allowed her to hunt if I’d known!” he thundered.
“Marcus.” My heart ached for him. “I don’t know how long she knew,” I stammered. “Remember, these are Damen’s memories I have—”
“Not all of them,” he hissed, silencing me. “How would he have known?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted softly. “He was chasing Phoebe. I think he was hoping she’d lead him to you. I . . . I don’t think he would have killed her if it weren’t for . . .” I paused, “if it weren’t for her strong intent in defending you.”
I watched Marcus as he became consumed with anger and loss, all over again. He fell into my lap, hugging my waist. I ignored the pain in my ribs. It was my turn to comfort him.
I played with his hair, smoothing it back while he rested his head on my leg.
“I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. I’m sorry.” I felt so ashamed. Why did my mouth have to be the size of a cavern?
“I’m glad
you did. I needed to know.” His eyes were full of sorrow. “I feel like I’ve lost her all over again, if I didn’t have you now . . .” He held me tighter, and I closed my eyes, wincing at the pain of it.
“You’d never have known,” I breathed. “And you wouldn’t have to be looking after me now. You’d be off somewhere happily killing werewolves.”
“I am happy,” he forced a smile for me. “We’ve been given another chance, you and I. I couldn’t ask for more.” His eyes met mine. There was so much love looking back at me.
“Marcus forgive me but . . . I just assumed that being immortal you couldn’t have children like normal humans could.”
“We can’t . . . unless the woman is part human to begin with,” he explained. “Your mother was human. That made you half human, half vampire. You were immortal but you could have children.”
I listened intently. Trying to comprehend what he was saying.
“If we had had a daughter . . .” his voice cracked. “She wouldn’t have been able to conceive. Her human gene wouldn’t have been strong enough.”
We sat quietly, deep in our own thoughts, letting the silence pass.
“Marcus?”
“Yes, my love?” He absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down my calf.
“Could we have a baby?”
He stilled.
“I don’t mean now!” I interjected quickly. “I meant someday . . . if we wanted to.”
There was a long pause. His silence was making me feel self-conscious. “I honestly don’t know Phoebe. I’m not sure how much of your make-up has changed. Until we know more about you . . .”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I could feel the blush on my cheeks. Marcus was looking at me like I was a delicate figurine on a shelf.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I have to worry about you so much as it is. The thought of you having a child frightens me. I couldn’t stand it if anything were to happen to you; either of you. You’d be more vulnerable than eve; .more than before. Had I only known,” he growled in frustration. “I’d have made sure you were protected. You would never have been left alone.”
I looked at his tortured expression. My heart broke. I tried to offer words of comfort. “I’m sure she just didn’t want to worry you. Your mind needed to be elsewhere.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” he asked.
I shook my head, ashamed. “She didn’t want you to keep her from helping you.”
Marcus nodded. He’d already guessed as much.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It meant that the old Phoebe was reckless, and in the end, chose her husband over their child. Would I make the same decision if I were in her shoes . . . again?
“I don’t want to think on this any longer,” he announced. “You are my concern now. How are you feeling?”
“My arms a little sore,” I admitted, lifting my shirtsleeve to reveal one of the fingerprint bruises Brian had left there. “Funny. I didn’t think he’d squeezed me so hard.” My voice cracked. I nervously began rubbing my arms as if the action might rub away the marks.
My ribs still throbbed. I looked down my shirt to see similar marks on my chest. I looked up quickly and met Marcus's enraged stare.
“It’s not as bad as the ones on my arms,” I quickly lied. It was worse. I figured I could hide them from him until they healed.
“He had no right to touch you like that,” Marcus snapped. “It drives me crazy to think what might have happened if Damen hadn’t stopped him. You realize Damen could have easily decided to kill you instead of help you,” he added darkly.
I shuddered. I knew he spoke the truth.
“As it is, I despise the thought of owing Damen my gratitude,” he said with disgust.
I looked at the clock, 11:15.
“You’re not going anywhere without me,” he warned, guessing my thoughts.
I looked down at my clothes. “I think I’ll wash up a little. Promise you won’t leave me while I’m gone!” I hated how needy I sounded. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
Marcus smiled. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, causing me to smile myself.
I walked with great care toward the bathroom. I stopped suddenly and turned around. “When you came back just now, you said you’d just picked up my car . . .”
“Yes?”
“How did you get me home from the park?”
“I flew. It was the fastest way. A bit tricky not being seen, though,” he added with a smirk.
“Humph, good thing I was passed out,” I muttered under my breath. The corner of his mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile.
I cleaned up as quickly as I could, my body screaming in pain all the while. I couldn’t believe it: My arms already had large bruises where Brian had squeezed them.
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again as I pictured him on me. My chest and along the right side of my body had similar bruises. The worst had to be my lower right ribs—they felt broken. I’d have to somehow hide this from Marcus.
“Crap!” I realized I’d forgotten to grab clothes when I came into the bathroom. “Ok, don’t panic . . .” I thought aloud. I took a towel from the shelf and wrapped it around me. “I’ll run to my dresser, grab the first thing I see and run back before Marcus has a chance to notice.”
I held onto the door handle, counted to three, and flung the door open. I didn’t exactly run because my wounded body wouldn’t allow that—so I made my way slowly to my dresser. I yanked open drawers, grabbed a random outfit, and turned toward the bathroom—busted!
“What are you doing?” Marcus was surveying the clothes I’d somehow managed to toss onto the floor.
“Looking for something to wear,” I gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ll just be a minute.” I maneuvered around him and headed back toward the bathroom.
“One moment please,” he said firmly. It wasn’t so much a request as it was a command. I stopped in my tracks.
His cool hand moved lightly over the bruises on my arm—it felt good. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he sighed.
“They look worse than they feel.” I held back the impulse to cry. I was going to be strong. And I might have gotten away with it if he hadn’t put his arms around my waist. I winced loudly, flinching and moving away from him—another mistake. I blew out a painful breath of air.
He dropped his arms.
I couldn’t hide the tears that leaked out the corners of my eyes now. I was practically gasping for air.
“Show me.”
“No! It’s . . . nothing.” I shied away from him.
“Phoebe!” He moved to grab hold of me but paused when I put my hand out to stop him.
“It’s fine. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” I was slightly hunched over, clutching my side as I made my way back to the bathroom door.
“Wait! How bad is it?”
I paused. “I don’t know,” I said in defeat. “I think my ribs might be broke.”
“He hit you?” Marcus hissed. His tone had gone from mad to lethal in a fraction of a second. I was afraid to look at him. I was in too much pain. This accelerated healing, if that’s what it was, made symptoms come on too quickly; I only hoped they’d leave just as quickly. It was nearly unbearable.
“He tackled me from the side and knocked me off the path,” I recalled the painful memory.
“He what?” Marcus snapped, making me flinch once more. “Phoebe you have to show me. If they’re broken, they’ll need to be wrapped.”
“I can’t,” my eyes were downcast. “I don’t want anyone else touching me,” I admitted reluctantly. “I’m sorry.”
Marcus’s voice turned gentle. “I would never take advantage of you; you know that.” I could see the hurt in his eyes. “Phoebe, I can’t take you to the hospital—they’ll notice a change in your blood. You can’t suffer like this.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. I knew he wa
s right. “Be careful,” I pleaded.
“I promise to be as gentle as I can, as well as discreet.”
I nodded. “I’ll just . . . be a minute.”
I went into the bathroom and dropped the towel. It took longer to put my pants on than I’d thought. Bending over was nearly impossible. There was no way I was going to get a bra on. I couldn’t lift my arms high enough to get through the straps. As for hooking it . . . that would be hopeless.
I dug around in my cupboard and found some gauze I purchased last Halloween. Kim wanted to make a mummy for one of our displays. Funny, I never thought I’d need it to wrap myself in.
“Phoebe, are you alright?” Marcus called through the door several minutes later.
I took the deepest breath I could. He was going to freak out when he saw the bruising . . . there was no hiding it now. I wrapped the towel around me and opened the door.
“Will this work?” I asked as I held out some extra large gauze wrap.
Marcus looked at it curiously. “I’m sure it will be fine.” He held out his hand and led me to the edge of the bed and sat me down.
“There’s a little more bruising than I admitted . . . I just didn’t want you to worry,” I added quickly, seeing his darkened expression. He said nothing.
I watched as Marcus unrolled a little of the gauze. He looked at me nervously. “This will be uncomfortable,” he warned.
I nodded my head in understanding.
He moved the towel aside just enough to see my ribs. I closed my eyes; I didn’t want to see his face.
He gasped. “He’s a dead man!”
I turned my head so Marcus couldn’t see the tears escape my tightly closed eyes. I wanted to kill Brian myself.
I felt Marcus pressing lightly on my back where he started to wrap. A low growl escaped him, each time I winced.
I tried to comfort myself with thoughts of running Brian over with my car or letting werewolves rip him to shreds. Part of me didn’t even care if Marcus did kill him. I wanted Brian to feel pain like he’d caused me. Why on Earth would he do this? We were supposed to be friends—Phoebe and Damen were supposed to be friends too, but his assault on her wasn’t so very different than Brian’s was on me.
“Phoebe, you need to lift the towel a bit more; this needs to go a little higher.” Marcus’s tone was soft but all business. He was doing his best to detach himself from what he was doing—my guess, he was trying not to run out the door and kill Brian.
I lifted the towel so that it was just covering my chest. You could have heard a pin drop. The silence was deafening.
“I swear to you . . . I will kill him.”
“No!” I grabbed onto Marcus’s arm as he moved to stand up, wincing at the pain of it. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me alone,” I cried.
He looked torn. I knew he wanted nothing more than to rip Brian apart—literally.
“Please Marcus!” I took in a shallow breath. “It looks worse than it feels,” I lied, trying to lighten the mood.
He sat down reluctantly and continued without another word. His eyes, pitch black and swimming with anger flickered to mine.
“How bad is it?” I asked after a few minutes, groaning as he pulled the gauze tighter.
“I’m fairly certain your ribs are cracked.” His eyes met mine for only an instant. This was almost as painful for him as it was for me. “I hardly doubt he was strong enough to break them.”
“Thank you for helping me.” I gave Marcus a small smile. “I know I’m awful to look at.”
“What’s awful is that I wasn’t there to prevent this from happening in the first place,” he growled. “I shouldn’t have left you!”
“Marcus, this isn’t your fault. You can’t always be there. You need to take care of yourself too.”
“I need to take care of you first.”
I reached out and cupped his face, giving him a small smile. “God only knows what else can happen to me. Since I was bitten, I’ve had nothing but extremely bad luck. If I get struck by lightning tomorrow as I step outside . . . well, let’s just say you might not want to walk so close to me.”
“I hope it hasn’t been all bad?” His hand reached up and smoothed the hair alongside my face.
I couldn’t help but grin. “No. It hasn’t been all bad.”
With help, I stood up and walked over to my closet and found a shirt.
“How are you going to sit in a car for four hours?” he asked from behind me.
“Tylenol. Lots and lots of Tylenol. I’m not staying here. If Damen, or worse Brian, decides to show up looking for me—”
“They wouldn’t reach the door step,” he promised darkly.
I couldn’t help but shiver.
“New plan,” he announced.
“What?”
“You’re coming with me to England. Tonight. Right now.”
“What?” I realized I’d just repeated my question, but somehow I felt I was missing something—like an entire conversation!
“You’ll be safer there. Just until I can deal with Damen,” he explained. “Besides, it will be much more comfortable for you to travel by plane . . . you can lie down across the seats if you need to.”
“But my customers—”
“Will understand that you are unable to personally deliver the jewelry,” he concluded. “We’ll have the jewelry mailed.”
“I guess I could . . .” I thought aloud, debating whether or not I should.
“Pack. I’ll have the plane fueled and ready within the hour.”
“Plane?” My mind was spinning. “You have your own plane?”
“You didn’t think I flew here? Over the ocean?” He watched my confused expression with mild amusement. “Pack and I’ll explain along the way.