Chapter Twenty

Marco is gone when I wake up, but there's a note on the kitchen counter saying he's gone for a run.

Looking out of the window, I wish I could join him for the run. Not that I've ever been very athletic, but I do miss being outside.

I get up and take my coffee into the living room. I notice that Marco has been a lot more open and honest with me.

Before he never would have bothered to leave me a note about where he was. Although, Luca squashing the deal last night probably makes me useless to him now.

Still, I thought he might want to keep an even tighter leash on me to try and find a new angle to use against my brothers.

Being back at the beach house feels pretty normal now. I know that last night it was the last place I wanted to be, but Marco staying with me helped.

Plus, there is still a quiet energy to the place, which seems to be helping me think a lot more clearly than last night.

Drinking my coffee, I take out my sketchbook and pencils and instead of drawing, I start a letter to my brothers.

We've always been close, but as an adult, it's been harder to toe the line between them protecting me and making my own choices.

I know they're angry, but I need them to know what has been going on while I've been in Mexico.

I'll have to try to figure out how to send this to my brothers, although I have no idea how they will reply if not through Marco.

That's a whole different problem that I need to deal with. Folding up the paper, I take out one more page, deciding to write a letter to Marco as well.

I'm too emotional right now to speak, but since I'm stuck in Mexico, I need to know what his thoughts are about me and the whole situation.

I hesitate with the "love" at the end, but decide to put it in. The "your girl" is an easy choice, it just feels right.

I hope that Marco will read the letter with an open mind, but I know that it's a gamble. He could read it and agree with me, letting us move forward together.

Or he might get angry and punish me again, refusing to come and see me, leaving me to go crazy with my own thoughts.

Marco gets back about three hours later, looking like he decided to go for a swim in the ocean after his run.

I wasn't sure he was going to come back to me, so I'm glad when I see him walk through the door.

I'm still struggling with the feeling of not wanting to be alone right now.

He seems like he's in a good headspace, so I decide that right now is a good time to ask him for something that I'm not sure he's going to agree to.

"Marco," I walk up to him as he's taking his shirt off and I swallow, feeling my cheeks heating up slightly.

The attraction between us is impossible to ignore, but I have a more important issue to deal with right now, and I just can't be jumping on top of him and ripping the rest of his clothes off.

"Yes?" He turns around and looks at me.

I'm still dressed in my sweatpants, so I doubt he's having the same problem by looking at me.

"Um, would you be okay with me going into town to go shopping? I need more clothes if I'm going to be here any longer. It's getting chilly in the evenings and I don't have many warm clothes. I really want to get a few specific ingredients to add to the cupboards for making dinner as well. There's a meal I'm craving right now. I did pack in my emergency credit card so I have money."

My words tumble out of my mouth on top of each other, trying to get the whole question out before he cuts me off. I don't have anything to worry about, though, because he stands still and listens to me until I'm finished.

I also need to send the letter to my brothers, but I worry that if I mention that, Marco will think I'm trying to be sneaky.

So, if he allows me out, I'll just sneak the letter into my pocket and send it off. What Marco doesn't know can't hurt him.

He thinks for a minute. "Would you take one of my guards with you?"

I'm surprised at the question. I have a feeling it's more of a command, but he's putting it in a way that makes it seem like he's simply requesting it.

"Sure." I nod, relieved that I've managed to ask him for this favor. I'd feel better having someone show me around anyway because I'd probably get lost otherwise.

"All right. But you are essentially a guest of mine now. I will send you with money."

As he speaks, he digs into his jacket pocket and takes out his wallet. I don't miss his words, a "guest of his" now and not his captive?

I wonder if he realizes what he's said.

"You don't have to do that." I try to wave him away, more than happy to spend the little bit of my own money that I still have, and not really eager to accept a gift from him yet.

"I want to." He places a few bills in my hands.

"I'm going to shower and get some work done. Enjoy the shopping. Can I come over and join you for the dinner you want to make?"

"Of course! Please come back tonight. I promise not to burn the food."

I smile at him. The more time he spends at the beach house with me, the less terrified I seem to be feeling.

It's probably just because when he's with me, I don't find myself going down the rabbit hole of wondering whether he's planning to have me killed or not.

I don't give him his letter just yet, deciding I'll do it after we have dinner.

This guard does not like speaking. I have tried to ask him a few questions, but he shut me down immediately, clearly not a big talker.

I keep asking random questions, and he continues to ignore me. Eventually, I give up and stare out of the window instead, trying to block out my loud thoughts.

My shopping trip is anything but relaxing.

I have never been the biggest fan of shopping, and when I'm being followed by a security guard, it makes it even less exciting. I am eager to get a few essentials, though, to help make my time in the beach house a little less crappy.

Somehow my anxiety is so high that I barely see where I am.

People walk past me, and I wonder if I look like the lost person that I am right now or if they just see me as one of them.

I manage to get my letter sent off to my brothers first without being caught, and then go into the grocery store.

I grab what I need for dinner, plus a few other items that will make it seem more like home. Next, I head into the first store that I see sells clothing, not too bothered about what I buy because no one is going to see me.

There are almost too many options in here. I'm not sure I want to deal with clothing shopping anymore.

But I also need to figure out a laundry solution if Marco is going to be keeping me at the beach house until who knows when.

I find a nice-looking jacket and a couple of shirts with long sleeves. I also pick out a couple of pairs of jeans and a bikini—just in case Marco allows me out on the beach again.

I grab a few more items that could work for lazing around a beach house as well.

I pay at the counter and then tell the guard, who has been following me like a puppy, that he can take me back to the beach house.

I saw Marco give the keys to him, so I know that we don't need to go back to Marco's home or go find him to get back inside the beach house.

I did notice that I still wasn't trusted with the keys myself. I think about how a future in Mexico would look, us staying in the house together and no longer worrying about things like dying or fighting with my brothers.

But Marco doesn't seem too worried about things like that.

He seems to be focused on how he can make his money now.