Chapter 68

I make my coffee stronger than usual the morning after my outing with Marcus and Liam, not because I drank too much the night before, but because I waited up half the night for Marcus to call and tell me that he was safely home.

I knew I'd seen that man shadowing him all day, and I'm so glad that I decided to speak up. I'd almost convinced myself that I had half-imagined it, but Marcus's call confirmed that I was right.

"You might've saved my life, Evelyn," he told me seriously. "I can't believe that neither Liam nor I picked up on it, and god knows how long he's been following me. I owe you a service."

I had to laugh at that, despite the fear coiling in my stomach.

"Marcus, we're dating," I had said. "I care about you – quite a lot, in fact. You don't owe me anything; I just want you to be safe. What do we do now?"

"Well, we called Jack as soon as we got in," Marcus said. "And he suggested that I bring back my bodyguard full time. It's not my usual style, but I agree that it's probably become a necessary step. It'll take some doing to explain it to people on the outside, but we'll think of some excuse."

I remember Marcus's bodyguard - Yasin, I think his name is. He was such a kind man to me, back when I was plain old Nicole, the plus one at Daisy and Charles's wedding. My god, how long ago that seems now, even though it was only a few months past.

"That sounds like a good idea," I said to Marcus, and I meant it. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him. I'm falling in love with him, fast. It's too early to tell him that, of course - he'd probably run screaming in the other direction - but I have to acknowledge to myself that it's how I feel.

"It is a good idea," Marcus agreed, but he sounded hesitant.

"What is it?" I'd asked. Marcus hesitated further before answering.

"Jack wants you to have a bodyguard, too."

"What?"

"Think about it, Evelyn," Marcus had said, a pleading note in his tone. "We're all being targeted now, and you're the most likely to be next. You're close to my father, you're close to me. You're close to this entire situation. And I–"

He paused again, and I heard him swallow hard, like what he had to say next was difficult for him.

"I care about you, too, Evelyn," he went on. "Deeply. I – I lost someone close to me, as you know, because I couldn't protect her. I couldn't live with myself if the same thing happened to you.

"Please, Evelyn," he continued when I didn't answer at first. "If nothing else, please do this for me."

It was difficult to say no to that, I have to admit.

"All right," I had finally responded. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Now it's tomorrow, and I have to find a way to tell Marcus that I cannot have a bodyguard 24/7, the way I know he's going to insist upon. A bodyguard would have to know where I live, and that would jeopardize both the gang's privacy and that of my real identity.

He's not going to be happy about it, I know him well enough to guess that much. I have no idea how I'm going to persuade him to let me have a bodyguard only during the day, at the Alpha's mansion, where I'm arguably the safest and in least need of a guard.

But I'm going to have to find a way to do it. Kent agreed with me on that, when I called him in the middle of the night last night to relay the events of the day. He was awake, of course. Sometimes I wonder if the man ever sleeps.

"You have to find a way to convince him, Nick," Kent had said urgently. "I'm sorry, hon, but you just are. We're so close to solving this thing – well, not really, but we're not entirely hopeless, either. We can't blow it now."

I sigh, resisting the urge to scrub my face with the heels of my palms, which would ruin my makeup. Of all the times to risk Charles recognizing me, now would be the worst.

Andrea had taught me weeks ago how to apply my "false face" myself, and it miraculously works every time, despite my previously minimal makeup habits. I've never asked about it - Kent has told me "you don't want to know" enough times that I've given up on getting answers.

I glance at the clock - I'm going to be late if I don't get going. Time to face Marcus. Maybe I'll think of a good excuse on the drive over, I think to myself, draining my coffee and grabbing my keys.

I certainly hope so, anyway.

"But the mansion is where you're safest already." Marcus is staring at me in disbelief from across my desk. I'm in my desk chair, fiddling with the cuffs of my summer cardigan. "Your home is where you need the bodyguard the most."

"I just can't, Marcus," I say softly. I tried all the way here to think of an excuse that he'd buy, but I couldn't come up with one. I'm just going to need him to trust me.

"Why, though?" Marcus asks. "If Charles strikes, he's going to do it when you're unprotected and alone. What could possibly be worth that risk?"

I'm silent, and Marcus frowns.

"Are you in danger at home, Evelyn?" he asks urgently. "Is there someone – a, um, roommate, or a…"

"No," I say quickly, holding up one hand. "No, I promise it's nothing like that. Marcus - I can't tell you why. I tried to think of some plausible reason to give you, but I can't. And I don't want to lie to you.

"I just need you to trust me. Please."

Marcus sits and looks at me for a long moment, then slowly nods.

"My father told me that I need to trust you," he says. "He knows your circumstances, and he told me that I have to live with not knowing them myself a little longer. And I do trust you, Evelyn. If you say you can't have the bodyguard at home, I believe you."

Relief floods me, and I reach across the table. Marcus leans forward and grasps my hand tightly.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"This can never work between us unless we trust each other," Marcus says. "I believe that you can't give me all the information right now, for whatever reason, but I know that you would if you could. I know it's not because you don't trust me - you do."

I nod, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"And I trust you," he continues. "We will find another way to keep you safe, together."

"Thank you," I whisper again.

Marcus smiles fondly at me, and then leans back to take his phone out of his pocket.

"Let's set up a few interviews," he says, tapping at his screen. "I want you to have someone you feel comfortable with. Liam has already screened a few candidates, and I know that we can rely on them not to be in Charles's pocket."

"That sounds good to me," I say, and, to my surprise, it does.

In the end, I choose Anton. He's a burly man in his mid-40s, built like a tank and with a rolling Russian accent softened by decades living in the United States. He's bald and looks a little battle-scarred, but his blue eyes are bright and kind.

"Do not worry, Marcus," Anton says at the end of our interview, shaking my hand first and then Marcus's. "While she is here, she will be the safest person in the world. I will not let anything happen to her."

"I know you won't," Marcus smiles with gratitude.

I smile, too. I wasn't expecting it, but I already do feel a little safer, just knowing that Anton will be at my side while I'm at the mansion. I had thought that I wouldn't feel much different, given that I am likely more in danger when at home.

But somehow, being in proximity to Charles is what actually scares me most. I'm glad Anton will be with me, from now on. Until we get all this settled.

Hopefully.