Page 41 of Dangerous Obsession

Viking wanted to know about the shit she’d been going through at home that could lead an otherwise smart, intuitive girl into the arms of an asshole like Barnum. Who was he kidding—he wanted to knoweverythingabout her.

She began to reach for her wine, and he handed it to her. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He took a long swallow of water and waited, letting her set the pace.

“We were inseparable that summer, then he headed off to play football on a full-ride athletic scholarship at George Mason, and I took a full-time job as a receptionist at a mortgage company.” She took a sip of wine. “We saw each other on the weekends, and things between us were pretty good. Then, his junior year, he got injured during practice and wasn’t able to play. He was also having problems with his classes and was stressed-out about losing his scholarship and getting kicked off the team. So he asked me to move in with him, said heneededme and that I was the only thing that could cheer him up.” She shook her head. “Needed me.What a crock. But, like a gullible fool, I fell for his sweet talk.”

Marigold unfolded her legs, set her wine on the table, and burst up off the couch. She started pacing.

“His parents would come watch all of his home games and then take Cliff to dinner afterward without inviting me.” She stopped briefly and looked at him. “At first it bothered me, then it got to where those few hours were a welcome break. But every single time he would come home and rattle off a catalog of complaints about me from his mother.”

Back and forth—her footsteps chewed up the distance from the front window to the fireplace.

“My mom wants to know why you don’t make the bed in the morning?”Her tone was derogatory as she repeated what he said. “I would’ve made it, but her lazy-ass son stayed in bed until noon every day—long after I had to leave for work.”

“Mom asked why our apartment is always a mess.”More back and forth. “Gee, maybe because her son would invite his football buddies over to hang out and not bother to clean up after them.”

“Mom said you need to start using a better fabric softener. She thinks the cheap stuff you’re buying is what’s causing the rash on my stomach.”She chuffed out a humorless laugh. “What did he do? Whip up his shirt at dinner and show his mommy his tummy? Of course, he didn’t bother to tell her I couldn’t afford the expensive stuff because he never chipped in for groceries. And anyway, that stupid rash was there before I switched to the less expensive brand.”

Marigold stopped and stared down into the empty fireplace.

“He would pick fights over the stupidest stuff, and nothing I did was ever good enough. Finally, saints be praised, he got the all-clear by the team doctor and was back at practices and playing games. That was right about the same time I started working at the boutique. Things were okay for a while, then he re-injured his ankle his senior year and was out for good. No more football.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze fixed. “I guess he went berserk in the locker room, accused one of the team’s trainers of wrapping his ankle wrong, and punched the poor guy in the face. In his twisted mind, it had to be someone else’s fault. It couldn’tpossiblyhave anything to do with him having a lazy work ethic or even shitty genetics. The police were called, and Cliff got off with a warning, even after they found illegal steroids in his locker. Because heaven forbid they create a PR nightmare for the college and alumni to deal with.”

Viking had served with a couple of guys like Barnum—zero impulse control. Both of them had ended up going home in body bags.

“That set off a chain reaction. As part of the deal he made to avoid being arrested, he lost his scholarship, was kicked off the team, and ended up dropping out of school. He no longer had an outlet for his aggression, andthatis where I came in.”

Viking shifted to the front of the couch and braced himself for what he knew would be awful.

“He would yell at me, call me the most vile, disgusting names. Horrible things no one should ever say to someone they profess to care about. At first, it was limited to verbal and emotional abuse. It was constant and insidious, and before I knew it, the things he said slowly burrowed their way into my subconscious. I became more isolated and began to doubt and distrust myself and everyone else. My mental and emotional weakness made the natural progression to physical abuse easy for him.”

Viking wanted to rage at what had been done to her, to tell her she was one of the strongest women he knew. But he didn’t want to risk having her stop sharing her story with him.

“The first time he got physical with me was when he shoved me against the kitchen counter. I had a deep bruise on my hip for two weeks.” She absently rubbed her hip. “He cried and apologized, and, like an idiot, I forgave him. Stuff like that happened about every three months or so. He would slap me or shove me, push me down. Then he would cry, apologize, and promise never to do it again. Lather, rinse, repeat. After a while, he stopped apologizing and started blaming me. He said I was selfish and couldn’t possibly understand how hard it was for him not to be able to play football. No matter how much I cried and begged him to stop, the abuse just kept getting worse. Then … one night, he left the apartment to hang out with some teammates.”

Marigold’s body might be in this room with him, but her mind had been dragged back to a darker time. All Viking could do was be there in case those memories became too heavy a burden for her to bear on her own.

He knew what that was like, being tormented by images and memories from the past. All these years later, he still periodically struggled with the circumstances of his parents’ death.

“It was two o’clock in the morning when he finally stumbled into the apartment.” Her chin quivered, she blinked, and the glow of the lamp on the mantel shined off a tear streaming down her cheek. “That was the first time … he … he … forced himself on me.”

Son of a bitch.Viking couldn’t stand the distance between them and pushed up off the couch. He slowly approached her, but she was so deep in her memories, he didn’t dare touch her.

“The next morning, he assumed I went to work, but I drove to my mom’s house instead.” She cleared her throat and visibly stiffened her spine. “You know what my mom said when I told her what happened?” Marigold angrily swiped the tear away. “She looked right at the bite mark on my neck and asked me what I did to upset him. I … I couldn’t believe it. I reached out to her for help and she—”

“She failed you.” What a terrible, hurtful disappointment that must have been. “Your mother was wrong, Marigold. She should’ve supported you, protected you from him, and made sure he was punished for what he did to you.”

Viking would personally see to it that the bastard never hurt her again.

“Yeah, well, the opposite happened. She called him and told him where I was.”

“You can’t be serious.” What kind of mother, no, what kind ofhumanwould do that to someone?

“I’m totally serious.” She gave him a quick side glance. “A short time later, he showed up dressed in his best polo shirt and slacks. He had two bouquets of flowers—one for me and one for my mom.” She tsked. “He acted all contrite, spewing false apologies. As usual, my mom fell for every bit of it and basically refused to let me stay home. At that moment, I finally accepted the reality that neither of my parents were a safe haven for me, and that was … phew, that was tough.”

It also left her further isolated and more easily victimized by her ex.

“Where was your dad when all of this was happening?” Anyrealfather would hunt down the man who dared hurt his daughter and deliver swift justice.

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