Page 5 of Dangerous Obsession

“Dulce, thank you.” She didn’t give a thought to who was coming with her friend. All she cared about right now was getting as far from this place as possible.

“Don’t hang up,” Dulce rushed to say. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until we get there.” She instructed someone to drive faster. “It’s going to be okay, Marigold. Just hang on.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

It’s done.

An uncontrollable tremor rippled through her. Adrenaline or shock. Maybe both.

Marigold looked around the room, and her eyes lowered to a scarf on the floor.

“I need to put the phone down for a minute.” No matter how hard she fought it, she couldn’t prevent the quaver in her voice.

She set the phone on the bed, cradled her arm in front of her, and made her way across the room. Her tennis shoes crunched over something, and she lifted her foot. Cliff’s smiling face stared up at her from inside a broken frame. She kicked it aside with the toe of her shoe and slowly leaned down to snatch the scarf up.

Marigold managed to tie a knot and created a makeshift sling for her arm. Sweat trickled down her temple and her head pounded as she looped it over her neck and nestled her arm inside.

She took a couple of deep breaths and picked up the phone. “Okay, I’m back.”

Battered and bleeding, she made her way to the front room. Her mouth dropped open, and the hand holding the phone fell away from her ear as she took in the destruction around her.

“Oh, my God,” Marigold whispered.

She’d been so busy fighting for her life, she hadn’t noticed how much damage had been done.

The small kitchen table was tipped partially over and rested against one of the chairs. Only one of the two prints that usually hung over the couch was still there—crooked, precariously teetering on its hook. The other was nowhere to be seen. Must’ve fallen into the gap behind the sofa.

A splotch of mud and a large dent marred the wall next to the window. Below it, soil, chunks of a terra-cotta pot and her grandma’s mangled African violet littered the floor. Marigold loved that plant, had nurtured it and watched it grow and flourish. It was the one tiny hint of beauty in her otherwise miserable existence.

Her tough-as-nails grandma never would’ve let a man hit her.

She weaved her way around pieces of a shattered light bulb and a bent lamp, its shade dented beyond repair.

“Good. I never liked it anyway.” Saying it out loud, even if only to an empty room, was strangely cathartic.

Cliff’s mother, the woman Marigold secretly thought of as the Dragon Lady, had chosen most everything in the apartment. Such a pitiful mama’s boy, he had insisted they keep all of it. Said it would be rude since she’d been nice enough to pay for it. With the exception of the African violet, Marigold hated all of it. Every single thing. She wasn’t allowed to have an opinion, though. She wasn’t allowed to have alotof things.

And whose fault is that?Well, no more.

As if from a distance, she heard Dulce shouting her name.

She raised the phone to her ear. “I’m here … I’m here. Sorry.”

“Okay.” Her friend heaved a sigh. “We’re pulling into your complex now.”

“I’ll be out in a second.” She could already hear theclick click clickof her friend’s heels as she hurried along the walkway in front of the building.

Marigold squeezed around the overturned table and picked up the basket they used for mail and keys and stuff. With great care, she scooped up what she could of her mangled African violet and gently set it in the basket with her small purse. No way was she leaving the abused plant behind.

She tucked the basket in the crook of her good arm, swung open the door, and, as Cliff’s lingering malevolence threatened to close in on her, she made a vow to herself.

Never again will I let him or any man ever lay a hand on me.Never. Again.

CHAPTER TWO

Marigoldlayinherhospital bed near the window and stared out at the lights peppering the parking lot. After what felt like a million hours in the ER, they decided to keep her overnight for observation.

David Brandon, the Georgetown Chief of Police and a friend of Senator Houldcroft’s, personally took her statement, then had a female officer and nurse take a ton of photos for evidence. Some more embarrassing than others. The two men were currently huddled together in the hallway, looking at their phones and murmuring about something.

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