My Toxin

Chapter 14

"What the hell, Alex?" she shouted, her voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and rage. "You just disappeared for a week! Ignored my messages like I don't exist!"

I froze mid-rep, dropping the dumbbell I was holding as I turned to face her. The sight of her, even with the fire blazing in her eyes, filled me with a confusing mixture of relief and guilt. My heart thudded, and an involuntary smile tugged at my lips. For reasons I couldn't explain, her anger—her passion—made me feel alive.

"Marjorie, I'm sorry," I started, stepping toward her. But she wasn't about to let me off that easily.

"Sorry?" she cut me off, advancing like a storm. "You think sorry is enough? You disappeared without a word, and now you're just... here, acting like nothing happened?"

She was in front of me now, so close I could feel the heat of her frustration. Her small hands pushed against my chest, not with force but with the kind of raw emotion that made my heart ache. I reached out instinctively, but she swatted my hands away and kept on shoving me, each touch more of an emotional blow than a physical one.

"Don't you dare smile, Alex! This isn't funny!" she yelled, her voice breaking slightly.

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm just... happy you're here," I said softly, my sincerity catching her off guard for a split second.

Her hands, which had been pounding against me, stilled as her breath hitched. Her anger faltered, and then she slumped against me, burying her face in my chest. A muffled "You idiot" escaped her lips, and I felt her body tremble as tears began to fall.

Wrapping my arms around her, I held her tightly, letting her cry. "I'm sorry," I whispered again, my voice low and steady. "I'm so sorry."

After a few moments, she pulled away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "You stink," she muttered, her voice still thick with emotion.

I chuckled, relieved to see a hint of her usual self breaking through. "Yeah, I just finished working out."

"Well, go fix that," she said, gesturing toward the bathroom, though her tone held less bite now.

I nodded and headed to the shower. The warm water felt like a reset, washing away the sweat and grime from my workout, but it also gave me a moment to reflect on the mess I'd created. I knew Marjorie deserved better, and yet, my actions had only pushed her further away.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, a towel slung around my waist, I immediately noticed something was off. Marjorie was standing by my desk, her back to me, her posture stiff. My laptop was open in front of her. My stomach sank.

"Alex," she said, her voice dangerously calm. She turned to face me, holding the laptop in one hand. "Care to explain this?"

My heart plummeted when I saw the live feed on the screen—the cameras I'd installed in her apartment, still running.

"Marjorie," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "I can explain."

"You'd better," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Because right now, it looks like you've been spying on me."

"It's not what it looks like," I said quickly, the desperation creeping into my tone. "I installed them for your safety. After your panic attack, I wanted to make sure you were okay, especially when I wasn't around."

"For my safety?" she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "Do you even hear yourself, Alex? This isn't protection—it's control!"

"I missed you," I admitted, my voice cracking. "This past week, I missed you so much I couldn't help it. I just... I needed to know you were okay."

Her expression softened briefly, but the anger returned just as quickly. "And this?" she demanded, holding up my phone. "Your messages with Chanel? You've been talking to her every day, for hours."

"She's a friend," I said firmly, taking a cautious step toward her. "That's it. She was helping me understand things—things I should've known but didn't. I was trying to become better... for you."

Marjorie's eyes filled with tears, but this time they weren't from sadness. They were from frustration. "How am I supposed to believe that? You're watching me through cameras, you're talking to another girl, and now you're standing here telling me it's all for my sake? I don't know if I can trust you, Alex."

Her words hit harder than any blow, but I couldn't let her go on believing this narrative. "You know what, Marjorie?" I said, my frustration bubbling over. "I'm not going to keep explaining myself because you're a hypocrite."

Her eyes widened, her disbelief almost palpable. "I'm a hypocrite?" she repeated, her voice rising.

"Yes," I said, meeting her glare head-on. "You flirt with Jordan, you spend all your time with Kemi—people who clearly have ulterior motives—but I talk to one girl, and you're ready to burn me at the stake."

Her anger flared, and she stepped closer, jabbing a finger at my chest. "You're the hypocrite, Alex. You're a stalker! Watching me like some kind of deranged—"

She didn't get to finish. Her words broke off as she started hitting me again, her fists small but full of unrelenting fury. I grabbed her wrists gently, stopping her mid-swing. Her breathing was ragged, and for a moment, we simply stared at each other, the tension between us almost unbearable.

"Deactivate the cameras," she demanded, her voice quieter now but no less resolute.

I shook my head. "The cameras stay."

She stared at me, her eyes hardening. "I'm not your property, Alex."

Something shifted inside me, and I stepped closer, my gaze locking onto hers. "You are mine, Princess," I said, my voice low and unwavering. "Everything about you is mine. You're mine to watch, mine to protect, mine to love... and those lips"—I leaned in, my breath brushing against hers—"are mine to kiss."

Before she could respond, I closed the gap between us, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss was a storm—angry, desperate, and full of unspoken words. It was a plea for forgiveness, a declaration of possession, and an attempt to close the widening chasm between us.