He Seduced Me (Eminem fan fiction)

Chapter Seventeen

When I wake up that morning, I suddenly have a feeling of emptiness. I look over to my right to see Marshall wasn't there. I sprung up from under the sheets and try to look for him. I look in the bathroom, no Marshall. I walk all over the entire suite trying to find him, but he was no where to be seen!

Was he hurt? Was he kidnapped? Did he die? Or even worse, did he leave me? All of the worst thoughts imaginable came to mind, and it started to haunt me.

I glance at the dresser to see a piece of paper that was scribbled on. I picked up and saw it was from Marshall. It said:

Good morning beautiful! Hope you slept well! I'm gonna be at the studio for a few hours, but I'll be home as soon as I can. Still trying to make up for last night. Have a good day!

Marshall

My heart just about melted after reading that. I know it wasn't exactly a "love letter" but hey, if you got a note from Eminem calling you beautiful, I'm sure you'd feel the same way.

I sat the note back on the dresser, and decided to get dressed. I didn't really spend much time on my outfit, cause I figured I wouldn't be going out today. I decided to go with my royal blue shirt, showing the appropriate amount of cleavage, and my jean short shorts. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and hair and did my usual eye makeup. I noticed the bruises were finally starting to heal, thank God! But I put some foundation over it anyways, not wanting anyone to notice them. Seeing those bruises made me angry. Angry at Dylan for doing that, and angry at me for not defending myself that well.

I felt weak, I felt hopeless, I felt like I hit rock bottom. I hope Dylan rots in jail, then drops the soap so he can get shower raped! Yeah, that's how much I hate him right now.

I pushed that thought out of my mind, and went in the living room to watch some South Park. After about ten minutes of that, and eating my breakfast, I heard my phone start buzzing. I pick it up, not recognizing the number, but answer it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Shana Jordan?" A man spoke in a firm deep voice. This scared me. Made me think a rapist was calling me.

"Who's asking?"

"This is Officer Smith from Detroit Police Station." That made me feel relieved. Pretty much the opposite of a rapist, huh?

"Oh yes! This is she! How may I help you?"

"Yes ma'am, I just thought I'd let you know that we've found Dylan Stafford and taken him in." It felt a like the weight of the world was lifted off my chest. Now I don't have to worry about dickhead anymore.

"Oh thank you Jesus! Thank you so much for letting me know! You have no idea how paranoid I've been!"

"You're welcome. And my advice to you is, get yourself a restraining order. That boy sure is something else."

"Oh, yes sir. I fully intend to!"

He went on to tell me more about Dylan's arrest, and how he didn't go down without a fight. He screamed, kicked, and even bit one of the police officer's! Turns out he was hiding at his brother, Nick's house, which isn't a good idea since I know pretty much everything about him and his family. But the best thing out of all of this is that he said that Dylan could face up to ten years in prison from everything he did! That made me smile.

After I was done with that, I set my phone back on the coffee table and tried to enjoy the rest of my morning. Only for five minutes later, another stranger starts calling me. I'm so popular today!

"Hello?"

"Hey" I groan once I hear that familiar yet horrible voice. I guess you know who I'm talking about.