Page 4 of Dangerous Obsession

Hospital. She had to get to the hospital, but Cliff had smashed her cell phone.

She remembered the phone Dulce had given to her the second time she noticed bruises on Marigold’s arms, called it a burner phone, and said it couldn’t be traced. She’d programmed her number into it and said, “Call me when you’re ready to leave that sonofabitch, and I will be there. No questions asked.”

It had seemed a tad dramatic at the time—very cloak-and-daggerish. Fortunately, she’d acquiesced, and her friend’s forward thinking could very well be what saved her life.

She thought back to Dulce’s final words to her earlier. Her friend was right. Not about Marigold being strong but about her being the only one who could change things.

Fragile confidence flickered to life deep within. She drew back her shoulders.

Time to take back control of my life.

Ear to the door, Marigold stilled herself, tuned in to the sounds of the apartment.

Nothing.

She disengaged the lock on the doorknob with a softclick. Hinges silent—she’d had the foresight to oil them after the last time—she opened the door just enough to peek down the short hallway.

The small apartment was eerily quiet. As if it, too, held its breath.

How long had it been since Cliff left?

Don’t think about that. Just move. She swung the door open and moved across the hall to the closet in the bedroom. Each step sent pain shooting through her body.

Heart racing, injured arm tucked close over her tummy, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder and then slid the closet door open. Frantic, no time to waste, she scraped hangers across the wooden rod, sending shirts, sweaters, and pants fluttering to the floor.

A car door slammed outside. Her gaze flew to the window, and her fingers wrapped tightly around the hanger. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as multiple sets of footsteps rumbled and vibrated up the steps outside. She closed her eyes and listened carefully until she recognized the muffled voices from her neighbors just before their apartment door closed.

Every scintilla of breath exploded from her lungs, and she nearly collapsed.

Marigold returned to her search and glanced down at the growing pile of clothes. She gnawed the inside of her cheek but resisted the impulse to rehang them the way Cliff insisted and focused on finding the phone.

Where is it? Where is it?There!

After a last hasty look toward the door, she dug it from where she’d hidden it in the lining of her old coat. Before she could change her mind, she powered it on and pressed “1.”

One ring.

What if her friend didn’t answer?

Two rings.

What if Dulce had given up on her?

Three rings.

Did she have the guts to leave on her own?

“Marigold?”

She nearly broke down at the sound of her friend’s voice.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “Please help me.”

“Are you safe?” Her friend called out to someone in the background, “We need to go!”

Marigold nodded, then remembered Dulce couldn’t see her. “Yes, but I’m not sure for how long.”

“Dad and I are on our way, honey.” The sound of doors closing and a car starting came through the phone.

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