Twisted Devotion

Forty Five

The house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the heating and the glow of the TV as Jess lay curled up on the sofa. It was a familiar comfort, this routine she had with her father. As much as his late-night calls to the hospital disrupted her evenings, she had learned to embrace the little rituals they'd formed over the years. She had packed him a container of leftovers and a steaming mug of coffee, watching as he carefully tucked them into his bag.

"You remind me so much of your mother, Jess," he'd said with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with a quiet warmth. "She never let me leave the house without something to eat. Always made sure I was fed, no matter how late I had to go in."

Jess's heart ached at his words, touched by the simple way he kept her mother's memory alive. She'd given him a hug, watching as he left for his shift, waving until his car disappeared down the driveway. Now, she snuggled under a blanket, letting her mind drift as she watched the familiar scenes of Gossip Girl flicker across the screen.

But her light sleep was soon broken, jolted by a dark, relentless nightmare. Jess's heart pounded as the image of Dominic's shadowy figure loomed in her mind, his dark eyes cold and unyielding. She could almost see him there, gripping Ava's arm, his face twisted in malice. She felt helpless, frozen in place, watching as he hurt her best friend, hearing Ava's voice calling out, but unable to reach her.

She sat up with a start, gasping as her eyes flew open to the dim light of the TV. The room felt colder, emptier, the usual comfort of her father's presence absent. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, trying to shake off the nightmare, but it clung to her like fog, lingering in the corners of her mind.

With a shaky breath, Jess reached for her phone. She couldn't call Ava—her best friend was out there, somewhere, maybe experiencing horrors Jess didn't even know. The thought sent another wave of dread through her. She glanced at the time; her dad wouldn't be back for hours. The house felt too quiet, too still, and her nerves were fraying.

There was only one other person she could think to call. Her fingers hovered over Marcus's name in her contacts list, her thumb trembling as she pressed it. She knew it was late; she knew he was likely off-duty by now. But she needed to hear a reassuring voice, someone who understood what she was going through, who wouldn't brush her fears aside.

The phone rang twice before he picked up.

"Jess?" His voice was low, a bit rough with sleep, but warm and attentive. "Is everything okay?"

She let out a shaky breath, a small part of her relieved just to hear him. "Marcus, I'm sorry, I know it's late... I just... I had a nightmare about Ava, and I can't shake it. It was awful, and I know I probably sound ridiculous, but—"

"Jess, you don't have to apologize," he said, his tone soothing. "It's okay. I understand. Do you want me to come over?"

Jess hesitated, not wanting to impose. But at the same time, the thought of Marcus's steady presence, of having someone there who made her feel safe, was too reassuring to resist. "If... if it's not too much trouble," she whispered, barely able to voice the words.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," he replied without hesitation. "Just sit tight, and keep the phone close. I'm not far."

As she ended the call, a wave of relief washed over her. She curled up on the sofa, waiting, listening for the sound of his car in the driveway. The memory of the nightmare was still there, lurking, but with Marcus on his way, she felt the faintest glimmer of hope, a quiet comfort knowing she wasn't alone.

Marcus pulled up to Dr. Martin's house, his heart racing as he saw the faint light glowing in the front window. He hadn't expected the flood of emotions he felt when Jess had called, her voice raw and fragile. It had been more than relief—something deeper, something he hadn't fully acknowledged until now. He cared for her, and not just in the way a detective might care about someone involved in a case. No, this was different, and he could feel it in every beat of his heart as he climbed out of the car.

He knocked softly, hearing her footsteps approach. When Jess opened the door, he felt his breath hitch. She looked so vulnerable, her grey eyes red-rimmed, tears staining her cheeks. Her face was pale, and the strength she usually carried in her expression was nowhere to be found. She looked... breakable, and his heart twisted at the sight of her.

Without a word, Marcus reached for her, wrapping her in a warm embrace. Jess sank into him immediately, her body trembling as she clung to him, and he instinctively stroked the back of her head, murmuring softly as she let the tears fall. His hand gently tangled in her curls, and he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, feeling her relax just a little in his arms.

He'd never noticed before just how small she was compared to him. Her head barely reached his chest, and her slender frame seemed almost lost in his hold. But she clung to him, her face pressed into his hoodie, letting her emotions spill out as he held her close.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here, Jess. I'm not going anywhere."

She sniffed, pulling back just enough to look up at him, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. There was a shy, almost embarrassed look in her gaze, but Marcus just smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"Thank you, Marcus," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I just... I didn't know who else to call."

"I'm glad you did," he replied, his tone gentle but earnest. "Anytime, Jess. You don't have to go through this alone."

She gave him a small, grateful smile, her hands still clutching his hoodie as she relaxed a little more, her breathing beginning to steady. Marcus kept his arms around her, unwilling to let go, knowing that, in this moment, she needed him—and that he needed her just as much.

In that quiet moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of them standing there in the soft glow of the house. And for the first time, Marcus allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this bond between them was more than a fleeting comfort—it was something real, something worth holding onto.