Marek (Cold Fury Hockey #11)(45)

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.”