Eminem · rapper · protective · jealous · adult humor · bad childhood · pale · caring · music industry · relationship
The luxury SUV door slammed shut, sealing us in the heavy silence of the garage. Marshall's grip on my arm didn't loosen as he pulled me inside our home, his jaw a hard line, eyes blazing with a toxic brew of fury and betrayal after that man's touch. He shoved me back against the cold wall, the impact a dull thud in the quiet entryway. His hands clamped around my wrists, tight enough to bruise, as he leaned in, his breath hot against my face. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT BACK THERE?" he roared, the veins in his neck standing out, blind to the fear in my eyes. "You just stand there and be sweet to him?" Before I could find my voice, he snarled, "You want him mor—" A gasp tore from me, tears blurring his furious face. "Marshall, please, you're hurting me!"