EMBRACE YOU Lone(liness Book Two)(11)

Because of this, the crackpots inevitably come out from under their rocks, nooks and crannies. Soon - too soon, I see breathless accounts of "How I Helped Melanie and Cara Kidnap Johanna's Baby!" or "I Saw Everything Happen! Cara Threatened to Set the Baby on Fire!" It all becomes too much for me, as my imagination begins to run riot. Marcus finally has to set his foot down rather firmly. My mum and dad begin to take care of our food shopping, letting us know when they're nearby so we can let them into the back yard. We unload the groceries from their car, and then they stay and visit for a while. This happens infrequently because we decide to buy everything we need, so that we only need to replace staples and things we run out of often, such as nappies and wipes for Lizzie.

Finally, things seem to be calming down. I notice that the numbers of reporters and satellite trucks swarming around the house and studio seem to be dwindling. I draw a huge breath of relief - as it turns out, prematurely. I learnt the following only after it happened:

Cara, in her overweening desire to keep herself in Marcus' mind, finds a way to do so. A rather enterprising, erm, "reporter," for lack of a better word, disguises himself as a jail guard. He gets into the jail and finds where Cara is incarcerated, then, still in uniform, manages to interview her! She's only too eager to speak. She wants any opportunity to let Marcus know that she still "loves" him. Once that "reporter" leaves, he makes an immediate beeline to his employer's office, where he tells the editor that he has a scoop.

The editor listens to the recording and reads the reporter's notes and he agrees. By the next morning, an accounting of "My Wild Night with Marcus Hadley: A True Accounting by Cara!" is splashed over the tabloids all over the U.K.

I'm not aware of the story, so when a reporter raps on my car window, shouting at me as we arrive at the studio, I'm taken completely by surprise. Thankfully, Tim has hired a team of security guards, who wait for each of us to arrive. Naturally, when they see a queue of reporters swarming our car, they run outside, shouting.

"OY! Get away from them! Now!"

"We have the right to get Mrs. Hadley's...OW! Just you wait! I'll call the police and have you arrested...gerroff me! Now! OW!"

The security guards grab each reporter and, twisting arms behind backs, force them away from our car. Each reporter is quick-marched out through the gate and pushed heartily down the street, allowing Marcus to get Lizzie and me into the studio.

Inside, it's not much better. Tim, Linny and Laslow are sitting in a semicircle, each holding a copy of the tabloid with that damned story.

"Em, you need to know what this nut is saying so you're prepared. It's not going down," Tim says quietly.

I take the paper that he hands to me and I read.

"...Loved him since secondary school...See those hot, hard muscles and his steamy, sexy green eyes that radiate hot sex...tracked him down late last year..."

"I've really read enough. This only proves..."

"No, Em. You need to read the whole, sick, sad accounting. Marcus, you too."

Marcus reluctantly takes a copy of the rag from his brother and begins reading.

"...Was at the London concert before Christmas and I bumped into him, quite by chance. He smiled gently at me, and said, 'I remember you. You're Cara!'

"I smiled tremblingly and nodded shyly. 'Yeah, I am. Then, I turned, as if looking for my good friend. I wanted him to see my trim, new body - you see, I had lost several stone and I wanted him to admire the new, smaller Cara.

"I felt Marcus' eyes running up and down my body. I gave him a shy glance and saw the heat in his gaze. He whispered to me, 'My wife still has to perform another set after the intermission. Let's go this way...' He took me to a small closet-like room and stripped down. I saw his cock standing stiff and I knew he wanted me. Seeing his wanting made me want him, too, so I stripped my clothing off and he admired by body art. He gently lifted me to a work table and had his way with me. His cock was hard as it drove deeper into my loin. Much like a bus would drive into a bus station."

I drop the rag as if it carries bubonic plague bacterium. I want to vomit, so I lean over and place my head between my legs, breathing deeply. A few seconds later, I hear Marcus drop his copy of the rag, then hear him run to the loo, where he slams and locks the door. Next, we all hear the unmistakable sounds of my husband retching as he loses his breakfast.

"Guys, I know there's not a lot we can control in this whole nasty, sorry mess, but I'm sure we can control what comes out of this whack job. I'm going to talk to the barrister prosecuting her and Melanie and show her this tripe." I shudder as I pick up my copy of the rag in between my thumb and fingertip. Singlehandedly, she's making my poor husband and me look like witless losers."

"Okay, then, after we have a shortened practice, you and Marcus go talk to the barrister. Before you go, though, I'm calling in reinforcements. The reporters out there aren't going away any time soon - not after this," Tim says.

Marcus comes out, looking sweaty, pale and shaky.

"Lord, that's...nasty." He gags again and I grab the rag, pulling it out of his vision.

"Marcus, we're shortening practice. You and I are going to talk to the magistrate's barrister so we can get this kind of shit stopped. Cara's a loon," I say. I stand up and wrap my arms around my husband, who responds by wrapping his arms tightly around me.