Marcus arrives -Blink

Around seven o'clock, the heavy deadbolt clicked open. Amelia practically floated down the hallway, her cheeks still carrying a faint, happy flush.

Marcus stepped inside, looking exhausted and imposing in his dark uniform. Before Amelia could even say anything, his massive hands gripped her waist. He pulled her flush against his chest, planting a quick kiss on Amelia's lush lips. "I'm home honey."

"Welcome home, my big strong man," Amelia purred, her hands resting on his chest, hoping for a little more affection. "Dinner is ready."

"Thank god baby, I'm famished. Today was a rough day. They had me doing ten hours of straight paperwork and riding along with a rookie without a damn break" he muttered, completely missing her unusually eager look as he trudged past her toward the bathroom. "Call up Liam too."

Ten minutes later, the three of them were seated around the dining table. Amelia had prepared a massive roast, humming happily as she served the plates.

Marcus took a long pull from his beer, his eyes scanning his son across the table. Liam was slouched over his plate, pushing his peas around with a fork, his shoulders hunched up to his ears.

"Alright, spit it out," Marcus barked, his voice slicing through. "Who messed with you?"

Liam flinched, his head snapping up. "What? Nobody. I told Mom, orientation was fine."

"Don't bullshit me, boy. it's my job to uncover lies." Marcus sneered, pointing his fork at Liam. "You're slouching, you won't make eye contact, and there's a scuff mark on your right sneaker that wasn't there this morning. Somebody shoved you." he said casually biting into the pork piece "Did you hit them back at least, or did you just tuck your tail between your legs and walk away?"

Liam’s face burned a humiliating crimson. "Dad, there were just these guys in the hallway, they bumped into me, it wasn't a big—"

"Oh, Marcus, stop it!" Amelia interrupted, as she reached over to rub Liam’s arm affectionately. "You’re always seeing criminals and bullies everywhere! The boys were probably just playing around or in a rush. Everyone at that college is going to be so nice to our sweet boy. You just have to give people the benefit of the doubt."

Marcus stared at his wife’s wide, impossibly naive blue eyes. For a second, he looked like he wanted to argue, but then a low, gruff laugh rumbled in his chest. He shook his head, taking another bite of his roast.

"You live in a goddamn fairy-tale, Amelia," he chuckled at her usual argument, his eyes softening as he looked at her beautiful, glowing face. "But I'll let it go tonight. You seem extra happy today. It's nice to see you smiling like that."

Amelia’s heart did a tiny, nervous flutter, but she just offered him a bright, dimpled smile. "I'm just happy to have my boys home!"

A few hours later, the house was dark and quiet. Amelia lay in bed wearing a tiny silk nightie, her head resting on Marcus's massive, bare chest, who was looking at his phone screen, his expression unreadable. The rhythmic thumping of his heart usually put her right to sleep, but tonight, her mind was buzzing with thoughts of Samuel's flattering texts.

"So," Marcus's deep voice suddenly rumbled in the pitch-black room, breaking the silence.

Amelia blinked, looking up at his shadowed jaw. "Yes, baby?"

Marcus put the phone down, his thick arms coiling around her waist. . "Who the fuck is this.. Samuel?"

Amelia’s blood ran cold. The air in her lungs simply vanished. "S-Samuel?" she stammered, her mind racing. "Oh! Oh, you mean the neighbor!"

"The neighbor," Marcus repeated flatly, his tone dangerously calm.

"Yes! It was the craziest thing today," Amelia babbled, her natural innocence kicking in to save her. "An older gentleman fell right on the sidewalk outside our house. I had to get him inside to give him some coffee and make sure he wasn't hurt. He's a retired salesman, lives right across the street."

Marcus suddenly sat up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he glared down at her in the dark. "You brought a strange man inside my house? After I specifically told you to lock the doors and not talk to the neighborhood trash?"

"He was hurt, baby! I couldn't just leave him on the concrete," she pouted, shrinking back slightly.

Marcus took a slow, heavy breath through his nose. "And how exactly did a retired salesman get your private cell phone number, Amelia?"

"Well, I... I asked him for it," she lied, a little stammer in her voice, trying to sound as sweet and harmless as possible. "I just wanted someone to talk to, Marcus. It gets so quiet here, and he’s just a sweet, funny old man. Also he said he wanted to help me with the heavy boxes since you're working so much."

Marcus's heard his instincts buzzing.

"A sweet, funny old man?" he growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous, vibrating snarl. "Is that why this 'sweet old man' is texting my wife that she looks like a fucking angel? Telling her he's jealous of me?"

Amelia's eyes went wide in the pitch black. B-but how? She had no idea that Marcus had installed a hidden mirroring app on her phone years ago. Every single text she had sent and received that afternoon had been forwarded directly to his own device while he sat at his desk. It was just that he only looked it up tonight, when he noticed the shift in Amelia's demeanor.

"Marcus, please, you're misunderstanding!" she pleaded, her innocent mind genuinely terrified that her husband was going to hurt a harmless grandpa. "He was just being polite! He's a lonely, retired neighbor. He even asked when you would be home so he could introduce himself!"

"Oh, he's gonna get an introduction, alright," Marcus spat, his massive frame shifting caressing Amelia's pale face. "Tell him to come over tomorrow morning without mentioning me. Let's see how lonely this guy really is. Call him. Nah, text him. "

"Marcus, no! Please don't be mean to him," Amelia pouted, her soft hands stroking his thick chest in a **** attempt to calm his raging temper. "He didn't mean anything by it, I promise! Just talk to him normally. You'll see, baby. You'll see he's a really good guy once you get to know him."

"Babe you're too innocent to know the real world. Just text him to come tomorrow morning, tell him you want his help to move those boxes." Marcus let out a cynical breath through his nose. "And also, I promise I won't hurt him, we'll just talk... normally."