Unwritten Obsession - Joe Goldberg

Chapter 24: Trouble comes Knocking

Juliet

I try to distract myself after Joe leaves. Dishes pile in the sink, laundry spills out of the basket, and the dust on the bookshelves is begging to be wiped away. Anything to stop thinking about the shift in Joe's demeanor today, the way he stiffened at the sight of Mark, or how he brushed off my questions about the text message.

But no amount of busywork keeps him from creeping into my mind.

By the time the sun sets, my apartment feels colder, emptier. I grab a blanket, curling up on the couch with a cup of tea, but even the comfort of warmth can't settle the unease sitting heavy in my chest.

Who was texting Joe? And why did he look like he was carrying the weight of the world when he left?

I tell myself it's none of my business, that Joe is entitled to his privacy. But deep down, I can't shake the feeling that his secrets are heavier than most.

A knock on the door startles me.

For a moment, I think it's Joe, back to explain himself. But when I glance through the peephole, my stomach drops.

It's Mark.

I open the door just a crack, keeping the chain in place. "Mark? What are you doing here?"

He leans casually against the doorframe, his leather jacket catching the dim light from the hallway. "Just thought I'd check in. Make sure you're okay after earlier."

"I'm fine," I say quickly, glancing over my shoulder. "It's late, Mark."

He smirks, that same cocky grin that irritated Joe earlier. "Yeah, I know. But we didn't really get a chance to catch up."

"I don't think we need to," I reply, trying to keep my tone firm.

His smile falters, just for a second, and something sharp flickers in his eyes. "Come on, Jules. Don't be like that. We used to be close, remember?"

Used to. That's the key phrase.

"I think it's time for you to go," I say, starting to close the door.

His hand shoots out, gripping the edge of it.

"Hey, hey," he says, his voice dropping to something softer, almost pleading. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I miss talking to you. That's all."

The tension in my chest tightens, but before I can respond, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

"Is there a problem here?"

I turn to see Joe standing at the end of the hall, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. His expression is calm, almost too calm, but there's a fire in his eyes that I've never seen before.

Mark straightens, releasing his hold on the door. "No problem," he says, his tone defensive. "Just catching up with an old friend."

Joe steps closer, his presence somehow filling the narrow hallway. "She doesn't look like she wants to catch up."

Mark chuckles, but it's forced. "Relax, man. I wasn't bothering her."

"You were at her door, uninvited, after dark," Joe says evenly. "That sounds like bothering to me."

Mark's jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he's going to argue. But then he shrugs, backing away with a casualness that doesn't match the tension in his stance.

"Fine," he mutters. "Whatever."

He turns and walks away, disappearing down the stairwell.

Joe waits until the sound of footsteps fades completely before he looks at me. "You okay?"

I nod, still clutching the edge of the door. "Yeah. Thanks."

He steps inside, his eyes scanning the hallway before I close the door behind him.

"Why was he here?" he asks, his tone quiet but laced with something dark.

"I don't know," I admit. "He said he wanted to check on me, but..."

Joe's jaw tightens. "But what?"

I hesitate. "Something about him feels... off."

Joe exhales slowly, like he's trying to rein himself in. "You shouldn't have opened the door."

"I didn't let him in," I say defensively. "And I didn't expect him to show up."

"I know," Joe says quickly. "I'm not blaming you. I just... I don't trust him."

There's something in his voice that makes me pause, something deeper than jealousy. It's protectiveness, yes, but there's also fear.

"Do you know something about him?" I ask, my heart pounding.

Joe shakes his head. "No. But I know his type. Guys like him don't just show up out of the blue. He's trying to get something."

I cross my arms, studying him carefully. "And what do you think he's trying to get?"

Joe's eyes meet mine, his gaze steady. "You."

The word hangs in the air between us, heavy and undeniable.

For a moment, I don't know what to say. Part of me wants to brush it off, to tell Joe he's being paranoid. But the other part—the part that feels Mark's presence like a shadow lingering in the corner of my mind—can't ignore the truth in Joe's words.

"What do we do?" I ask finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Joe steps closer, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. "You let me handle it," he says firmly. "You don't need to worry about him, Juliet. I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again."

The intensity in his voice should scare me, but it doesn't. Instead, it makes me feel safe, like I can finally breathe again.

"Okay," I say softly, leaning into him.

His arms wrap around me, holding me close, and for the first time tonight, the tension in my chest starts to ease.

But as I close my eyes, I can't shake the feeling that this is only the beginning.