Troubled Waters (The Lake Trilogy, Book 2) (22 page)

“So we’re going to your place. What about your roommates?” I ask knowing full well that he’s moved to a new apartment.

“I’m not living with those immature frat boys anymore, Layla. I’ve moved on to a place more suitable for us.”
Us?
His irritation with me is softening. He smiles and I can’t help but feel good about it. As long as he’s happy, things are going to go just fine. I need to keep him calm, which means I have to keep calm. “We’ll have all the privacy we need.” He gives me a wink and puts his hand on my leg. He’s inching it up too high on my thigh and a shiver runs through me. I take his hand in both of mine so he’s not even touching me. “That’s more like it,” he says giving my hand a little squeeze.

“So I guess you’ll be getting a job soon. With your experience at the bookstore, I’m sure you’ll find something on campus, or nearby.” I do my best to make normal conversation. I really don’t want him to get upset like he did while we were walking. The last thing I need is for him to do is floor the gas and slam us into a tree in some crazy murder-suicide attempt.

“Nope. I won’t be doing anything that will take my attention from you,” he says. His delivery is eerie. It reminds me of the tone Mr. Meyer used when he found me on the trail during his early morning walk while we were in the mountains. My stomach turns at the memory.

“But how are you paying for your apartment and school?” I know the answer to this, too, but I need to appear as if I don’t.

“Let’s just say I’ve saved enough money to last us for a while.” His vague response leaves a harder look on his face. He’s not going to tell me any more about Gregory Meyer, at least not right now. And he’s using that word again,
us
.

I’m silent for the rest of the drive to Marcus’ apartment. Every few minutes of the fifteen minute drive Marcus volunteers a giddy comment. “This is going to be so great,” or “I can’t wait for you to see,” he says. I give the best smile I can pull together and nod in feigned excitement. We approach the gate to the complex and Marcus enters his code. I try to see what numbers he punches, but my view is obstructed by Marcus’ hand and the shape of the metal box.

The gate opens a moment after he enters his code and soon we’re winding through the maze of buildings. I’m doing my best to pay attention to where we’re going but it’s too much.
Left, right, right, left, left, left…
I know Furtick, Taylor, and Cline know where Marcus’ apartment is, but I’m trying to remember in case I end up having to make a run for it.

Marcus parks the car in a space close to the building. “Wait right here,” he says with a bright smile. When his door closes I take a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

“If you’re listening Furtick, I’m sorry,” I whisper before the door opens.
Marcus takes my hand as he helps me out of the car.

“So, Marcus…uh…when did you decide you would move to Tallahassee?” I ask timidly as we walk toward the building. Knowing what the catalyst was I’m not sure how he’s going to respond, but perhaps it will be a good lead-in to talk him out of what he’s doing. I’m trying to nonchalantly look for Taylor and Cline, hoping that they were monitoring our conversation in the car, although I’m not sure how the whole bugging thing works. I don’t see them, but then again, they’re not supposed to be seen.

“Well, that’s hard to say. After that night at Halloween, when Will exploded as he did, I knew it would only be a matter of time before you’d come to your senses. And then when Will went missing, I knew you would want an appropriate amount of time to mourn so as not to appear to be heartless. But I suppose when you moved here, which I knew was out of complete obligation, I knew you’d miss me so I started tying up loose ends and working on the logistics.” Marcus’ confidence seems to rise with each step we take toward his apartment. And as we begin to take the stairs up to the second level my fear level also rises. Marcus really believes that my relationship with Will became a lie; that I really wanted, and now want, to be with him.

“Then why all the comforting talk about how they’d find Will and everything would be ok?”

“I couldn’t present myself as a completely insensitive jerk, Layla.”

We reach his apartment and my dread has reached an all new high. I have to believe that I can reach him. That has to be my sustained objective. If I lose focus for even a minute I don’t know what will happen. Marcus smiles at me as he unlocks the door. “Ready?” he asks with a new tone of joy. I nod with a faint smile.

The door opens and Marcus puts his hand on the small of my back to usher me in ahead of him. As I cross the threshold I am overwhelmed with the loveliest aroma. It’s beautiful and immediately calms me, even if just for a moment.

I walk past the kitchen on my right and enter the living room. It’s large, bigger than I would have thought for an apartment, but then this is a gated development and these are high- end units. There’s hardwood flooring in the entryway and kitchen, which I noticed has brown, black and silver granite counters and dark wood cabinets.

He’s already furnished the apartment and everything is nicer than what I’d expect a bachelor to have. But beyond the furnishings, flooring, and granite is a site that overcomes me with mixed emotions. The apartment is filled with flowers – vases and vases of flowers. Roses of all shades, long stemmed and spray. Violets both opened and closed, and my favorite, Gerber daisies, in an assortment of colors. There are so many, hundreds, that I don’t even recognize.

“I didn’t know what your favorite flower was, so I had them bring something of everything. Do you like it?” Marcus says in a voice that reminds me of the man he used to be. He’s not cocky or arrogant. Right now, he’s a guy who’s crazy about a girl and going to extremes to impress her. Were he not on the other side of a mental break down, I’d think this was sweet.

“They’re lovely,” I say still taking it all in. Marcus takes my hand and leads me into the living room.

“Here, let me show you around,” he says happily as he puts my backpack on an accent chair. I’m glad he’s back in a good mood. It eases my nerves and makes me feel like he’s reachable. “You saw the kitchen when we walked in. Obviously this is the living room, and the dining area is over there. And over here…” he begins as he takes me toward a hallway. “…is your room.” I still myself in the moment, not knowing how to respond. The wrong words on my end could be disastrous, but to tell him what he wants to hear will only encourage his delusion.

“Wow,” I say ambiguously. It’s a simple room with a wrought iron, queen-size bed, matching side tables, and a beautifully ornate dresser.

“Do you like it? I wanted you to have your own room at first.” He smiles at me as if I should be grateful for his act of valor, but he has no idea how inappropriate and assumptive he has been. Even if I were interested in him, does he really think I would move in with him? Just more evidence that he really does not know me at all.

“Well, I’m not really sure what to think about it, Marcus. You’re moving a bit fast.” I try to say it shyly so as not to offend him but that doesn’t seem to work. I’ve tried hard to not upset him but I see the heat begin to rise on his face and I brace myself for what may be coming next.

“This isn’t fast, Layla. We’ve had these feelings for each other for a year now. And when two people love each other, they take steps to move their relationship forward.” He takes my hand again and pulls me behind him to the other end of the hall. “And this is our next step.” He’s brought me to his bedroom. The room, just like the living and dining area, is filled with flowers. It’s beautifully romantic and terribly frightening at the same time.

“Marcus, I…” I start to object but Marcus cuts me off.

“I know you’re nervous. And I know you don’t want your aunt and uncle to think that you’re disrespecting Will’s memory. After all, they think you were really in love with him. But I think if we can just explain to them how we feel about each other, they’ll understand. They want you to be happy, Layla.” He runs his thumb along my jawline and it takes everything in me not to jerk away. He really is his father’s son.

“I think we should talk about this,” I say moving out of the room and into the living room. I take a seat on the couch, crossing my legs and arms in my own defense.

“Alright,” Marcus says sitting next to me too close. He pries my arms from their pretzel state to hold my hand. I don’t put up too much resistance as he’s already upset. I sit, collecting my thoughts. I compose myself and quickly formulate an idea that I think will buy me some time, as in days, if Marcus will agree.

“Well, I think you’re right about my aunt and uncle. I don’t think they’d understand me wanting to be with you right now. But, you know, what Will and I had being together secretly worked really well. I think we could make that work, too. I mean, just while we’re working this out.” I look at him with hopeful eyes, thinking that I’ve offered a viable option. If he can let his guard down, maybe I can reach him. However, I’m dismissed quickly as his face hardens.

“No! That’s not how this is going to be. You and Will
had
to hide. We don’t.” Marcus is angry. “You love me, Layla, and I won’t let you think that we have to live in the same secretive state that you and Will did.” He takes my face in his hands and pulls me to him. My body is shifted in such a way that my defensive leg crossing comes undone. Marcus’ lips are on mine before I know it. I try not to resist too forcefully but I’m too obvious in my struggle and I have set Marcus off. “Layla, don’t make this difficult.”

“I just…Marcus, I can’t do this.”
I really can’t do this
. I thought I could but I can’t play into his delusion any longer. All it’s doing is fueling him. “I know about everything,” I blurt out but Marcus isn’t thrown. He lets me talk, all the while kissing my neck. I continue to try to push him off of me, but he’s too strong. “I know about how your mother forced you to play her games in her retaliation toward your father. I know that Meyer rejected you time and time again. I know you hated Will for having a father who acknowledged as him as his son.” Marcus stops mid-kiss, his lips feeling glued to my skin. “But forcing yourself on me isn’t going to change any of that. I don’t love you.” I verbally vomit all over him and he doesn’t flinch. He just stares at me with dark eyes.

“So you’ve decided to make this difficult,” he says, not acknowledging what I’ve said at all. “That’s ok, Layla. You’ll give in to your true feelings soon. In the mean time I’ll help you along the way.” He stands, holding tight to my hand, and pulls me to stand with him. He releases my hand and slides his arms around my waist. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” he directs. I do as I’m told after a moment of hesitancy. I mustn’t forget that there are two powerful guns located somewhere in this apartment.

Marcus leans in and kisses me again. It’s sweet and, in another universe, nice, but his passion builds quickly and it takes only moments before he’s pressing into me forcefully. He’s holding my body with more strength than I realized he had. I’m absolutely not kissing him back but that isn’t stopping him. He holds me tighter and moves one hand to my behind. I pull my face from his and try to push him off of me.

“Marcus, stop!” I yell, pushing his body away from me with as much force as I can gather. He releases my body and I think I’ve gained a small victory, but it’s nothing but a brief break as he looks at me, fire in his green eyes, taking my hand and pulling me to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

Oh, no!

Marcus pulls me into his bedroom and throws my hand from his. We stand there looking at each other for a few long moments. I don’t know what to say so I go for pleading. “Please, don’t do this, Marcus.”

Suddenly Marcus’ phone rings, giving me a reprieve, however short it may be. It’s obviously a personalized ring because I don’t think he would have answered it otherwise, and he doesn’t even look at the screen to see who it is. “Hey, I can’t talk…” he answers but is quickly cut off. “Why? Ok, ok!” Marcus moves the phone from his ear and presses a command on the screen. The next thing I hear is Holly’s voice.

“Layla, can you hear me?” she asks through the speaker.

“Yes, I can hear you,” I reply. I can’t believe she called. I can just imagine the fury Luke has disposed upon Furtick for this predicament. I hope Luke hasn’t fired him. I don’t care what Luke says, I’ll do everything I can to keep Furtick around. Whoever came up with it, right now I can only assume the thought would be that Holly is the only one who will be able to get through to Marcus.

“Are you ok?” she asks with softness. I can almost see her face, tilting down in a nonthreatening, concerned way.

“Why wouldn’t she be ok, Holly?” Marcus interrupts. He’s staring at the phone and furrowing his brow. He’s so consumed with his belief that I’m in love with him that her suggestion that I might not be ok is beyond him.

“Marcus, you have to let Layla leave now. Ok?” Holly’s speech is slow, but not so slow that it’s demeaning. I can tell she’s trying to reach Marcus and make sure he’s really listening to her.

“Layla is fine, aren’t you?” Marcus looks to me with bright eyes, still completely confused as to what the issue is.

“Actually, Marcus, I would really like to go home. I appreciate the flowers and all the attention, but…as I told you when you first came here, I think we make better friends.” I make my tone and delivery soft like Holly’s, like Claire’s.

“Layla, love, it’s Holly. You don’t have to pretend around her. She knows how you feel about me.” His anger has subsided but I know that’s going to change if the conversation continues as it is.