Chapter 3 Little Reed - CRASHING INTO YOU

IRIS

I didn't sleep. How could I? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Marshall’s dark, gold-flecked gaze or felt the phantom heat of his fingers against my ear. I spent half the night staring at the silver GPS tracker on my nightstand.

By morning, I was already a mess. I tried to convince myself that he was bluffing about the car keys, but this was Marshall North. He didn’t bluff.

I dressed in my usual oversized sweater and jeans hoping that if I didn't look like a "target," he might lose interest. I grabbed my bag, shoved the tracker into my pocket, and headed down to the dorm lobby.

I expected to wait for him since he would be late, to show me that my time wasn't as valuable as his. But when the glass doors slid open, he was already there.

Leaning against the brick pillar of the entrance, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a charcoal hoodie that made him look even broader and more menacing than the night before.

A group of freshmen girls were giggling and whispering a few feet away, but Marshall didn't even glance at them. His eyes were firmly locked on the door.

The second he saw me, he pushed himself off the pillar. "You're five minutes late," he said, his voice flat.

"And you're five minutes too early," I shot back, trying to walk past him toward the parking lot. "Where are my keys, Marshall? I have a 9 am lecture and I don't want to be chauffeured like a toddler."

He reached out, grabbed the strap of my backpack, and gently but firmly redirected my path toward his SUV.

"I told you last night. I’m driving."

"It’s a five-minute drive! I can see the Business block from here!"

"Then it's a five-minute drive where I know exactly where you are," he countered. He opened the passenger door and waited.

I looked at the car, then at the crowded campus walkway where people were starting to stare. The legendary Marshall North was escorting the not so popular quiet girl.If I stood here and argued, I’d just draw more attention. With a low growl of frustration, I climbed in.

The interior of the SUV smelled like him. As he climbed into the driver's seat, the space felt impossibly small.

"Vanessa called me," I said, trying to regain some ground. "She thinks it’s hilarious that you’re my new babysitter. She wants to know if you're going to carry my books to class, too."

Marshall pulled out of the lot, his movements smooth and practiced. "If it keeps you from wandering off with the wrong people, I’ll carry whatever you want. Even your soul"

"You're being ridiculous. I've lived in my whole life. I know which streets to avoid."

"Knowing the streets isn't the same as knowing the people on them," he said. He slowed down as we approached the main campus gate. "Soren is a loudmouth, Iris. He bragged about his New York internship at the campus bar two nights before he left. He mentioned he was worried about leaving you behind. He basically put a 'fragile' sticker on your back and invited the whole world to see if they could break it."

I gripped my bag tighter. "Soren just cares about me."

"Soren is a fool who thinks everyone plays by the same rules he does," Marshall muttered. He pulled up to the curb of the Business building, but he didn't unlock the doors. He turned in his seat, draping one arm over the steering wheel so he could face me fully.

"Listen to me. There’s a group on campus of older guys, mostly townies who hang around the athletic department. They handle the bets for the games. They think Soren owes them a favor because of a dispute last semester. With him gone, they might decide that his sister is the best way to collect."

"And you?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "Why are you safe? You're his best friend. Wouldn't they come after you?"

A dark, chilling smile touched Marshall’s lips.

"They know better than to touch what’s mine," he said quietly.

"I'm not yours," I whispered, the defiance feeling weak even to my own ears.

"For the next six months, you are the only thing on this campus that matters to me. That makes you mine in their eyes. And in mine."

He reached over, his hand trailing along the dashboard before resting dangerously close to my knee. He didn't touch me, but the heat was radiating through my jeans. "I’m going to be at the gym until noon. Then I’m picking you up for lunch. Don't leave this building. If you have to go to the library, text me the floor and the table number. Clear?"

"I feel like I'm in prison," I snapped, reaching for the door handle.

"It’s an expensive prison, Iris. Enjoy the view."

He clicked the lock, and I scrambled out of the car,my heart racing. I practically ran into the building, feeling his eyes on my back until the heavy oak doors shut behind me.

I sat in the back of my Development Studies lecture, but instead of taking notes on economic theories, I was doodling in the margins of my notebook and then aggressively scratching it out.

Vanessa found me during the break. She was a whirlwind of bright colors and loud energy, her "Bloom" surname fitting her perfectly.

"Okay, spill it," she demanded, sliding into the seat next to me. "I saw the SUV drop-off. Is the Campus God actually staying true to his word? Is he really going to be bodyguard?"

"He's jailer, Vee," I groaned, leaning my head on the desk. "He took my car keys. He gave me a GPS tracker. He’s literally tracking my every move."

Vanessa's eyes went wide. "That is... actually kind of hot? I mean, in a creepy way. But come on, Iris! It’s Marshall North. Half the girls in the campus would kill to be tracked by him."

"He's doing it because he hates me," I insisted. "He told me he’s doing it to protect me from Soren's enemies. He thinks I'm a target."

Vanessa grew quiet for a second, her usual bubbly demeanor fading. "Well... he might not be wrong. I heard some guys at the canteen yesterday talking about Soren. They didn't sound happy that he skipped town for New York without 'clearing the books.'"

I felt a cold pit form in my stomach. "So Marshall isn't just being a controlling jerk?"

"Oh, he’s definitely a controlling jerk," Vanessa said, patting my hand. "But he’s a controlling jerk who happens to be the scariest guy on the football team. If anyone can keep the wolves away, it’s the Alpha Wolf. And that's him."

The rest of the morning dragged on. I tried to focus, but every time the door to the lecture hall opened, I jumped, expecting to see Marshall’s tall frame standing there. I felt haunted by him.

At the afternoon my phone buzzed.

Marshall: Outside. Front steps. Don’t make me come in there.

I sighed and gathered my things. Vanessa gave me a sympathetic wink as I headed out.

Outside Marshall was leaning against his car, looking like he’d just come from a workout. His hair was damp, and he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

He looked like a total distraction.

As I walked down the steps, I noticed a group of three guys standing near the fountain. They didn't look like students—they were older, wearing heavy jackets despite the heat, and they were staring at me. Not the way guys normally stared, but with a cold, calculating look that made my skin crawl.

One of them started to move toward the steps.

Before I could even react, Marshall was moving

he just stepped into the man’s path with the effortless grace of a linebacker. He didn't say a word. He just stood there, towering over the guy, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.

The man stopped. He looked at Marshall, then at me, then back at Marshall.

Marshall tilted his head slightly. The silence between them was deafening. It was a quiet, immovable force that didn't need to shout to be heard.

The man stepped back, muttered something to his friends, and they all turned and walked away toward the campus gate.

Marshall turned back to me. His face was a mask of indifference, but his eyes were burning.

"Get in the car, Iris," he said.

I didn't argue this time. I walked as fast as I could to the SUV and waited for him to unlock it. When we were both inside, the tension was so thick I could taste it.

"Who were they?" I whispered.

"Nobody you need to worry about," Marshall replied, his voice tight. He started the engine and gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "But you see now? You see why I’m here?"

"They were just looking at me, Marshall."

"They weren't looking, Iris." he snapped, finally looking at me. "They wanted to see if I was actually going to show up. They wanted to see if you were alone."

He reached out, his hand hovering over mine for a second before he pulled back, as if he was afraid he might break me if he touched me.

"I told you last night," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "I’m the only one allowed to burn you. And I’m the only one who gets to keep you safe. Don't ever test me on that again."

He pulled away from the curb, driving us toward the city center. I sat there, watching the trees pass by, feeling the weight of his protection like a heavy blanket.

I was an author. I wrote about romance, about heroes and villains. But sitting next to Marshall North, I realized I didn't know which one he was. He was saving me, but he was also taking me over, inch by inch.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To lunch," he said. "And then back to my place."

"Your place? Why?"

"Because I have a film study for the game tonight," he said, flicking his blinker. "And you’re going to sit on my couch and write your little stories where I can see you. I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the day."

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I thought about the men at the fountain. I thought about the way Marshall had stepped between us without a single moment of hesitation.

"Fine," I whispered. "But I'm picking the music."

A tiny, almost invisible smile pulled at the corner of Marshall’s mouth. "Deal, Little Reed."

As I reached for the radio, I realized I wasn't just running anymore. I was following the only person who knew how to keep the shadows far away. Even if that person was the biggest shadow of them all.