Page 6 of Dangerous Obsession

What have I done?Alone for the first time, she let doubts creep in.

Maybe it had been a mistake getting all of these people involved. Should she have stayed and tried to work things out with Cliff? Her brain knew that was a terrible idea, but years of conditioning worked hard to override common sense.

Marigold had to admit that having Dulce here was a huge comfort. She had been by her side like an overprotective mama bear since they arrived in the ER. Then her friend’s mom, Hanna, had arrived, and the two of them hovered around her until Marigold convinced them to take a break in the cafeteria.

They said they would grab some sandwiches and “real” coffee. Hanna had grumbled about the coffee from the machine in the ER waiting room, saying it tasted like it had been filtered through a dirty pair of men’s boxer shorts.

Her comment had elicited a painful smile from Marigold—thanks to her split lip. It had been her first and only moment of levity in such a long time.

Dulce had called Marigold’s mom while she was being tended to in the ER. Had she been coherent, she would’ve told her friend not to waste her time. She ended up leaving a voicemail message about four hours ago. Her mom had yet to respond.

Marigold tried to convince herself it didn’t matter, that having Dulce and her parents there was enough. But itdidmatter—more than she wanted to admit.

An X-ray of her arm had shown two fractures. She now sported a yellow cast—her favorite color—from her elbow to the base of her fingers. Worried she might have a concussion, she’d also gotten her first-ever CT scan.

It had been a night full of firsts.

The test showed she didn’t have a concussion, despite feeling like her brain was trying to pound its way out of her skull. They’d drawn blood and put her on an IV to get some fluids into her. The ER doctor said she wasn’t too worried about her eye but they would know more once the swelling went down.

“Marigold.” The senator spoke as he and Chief Brandon came back into the room. “I emailed your photos over to a judge I’ve known for years. He reviewed them all and agreed to sign an arrest warrant and protective order against Cliff.”

She was mortified by the thought that a complete stranger had looked at pictures of her in this condition.

“Arrest warrant?”Oh, God.Cliff was going to go ballistic.

“Yes, that’s so we can pick him up tonight,” Chief Brandon continued. “He’ll spend the night in jail and go before the judge tomorrow afternoon. Bail will be set, and he’ll have to raise the funds before he can be released.”

“Oh, trust me, he’ll have no problem posting bail.” His family had a lot of money. A fact he reminded her of often. “They’ll have him out before the ink is dry on the paperwork.”

“And that’s why there’s also a protective order,” the senator said.

“What’s a protective order?” She looked from one man to the other.

“It means that after he is released on bail, he isn’t allowed to get within one thousand feet of you or contact you in any way. If he so much as sends you an email, that’s a violation of the protective order, which nullifies his bond. The judge will order him to be picked up and sent to jail immediately, and he’ll remain there until his trial.” Chief Brandon clicked his pen shut and slipped it and his small notebook into his uniform shirt pocket. His shiny gold badge glinted on his chest. “I’m going to go by the judge’s house now and get the documents. Then I’ll grab a couple of officers, and we’ll pick up Barnum before the night’s over.”

Her body tensed with the urge to flee, and acid burned in her stomach. The beeps from the heart-rate monitor next to her head accelerated.

“Whoa, whoa. Take it easy, Marigold.” The senator stepped closer, kept his voice calm in an effort to soothe her. “The chief and I are going to do everything we can to make sure he can’t hurt you ever again.”

“He’s going to be so angry.” They didn’t understand. “A piece of paper won’t stop him from coming after me.”

Thinking about how Cliff would react made her edgy. The urge to jump from the bed and run from the room tingled beneath her skin. But what could she do? Where would she go?

Cliff had slowly and masterfully stripped her family and friends away from her. After all, isolation was key to establishing and maintaining control. That and the perception of total dependence on someone else. Little by little, he’d convinced her she couldn’t make it on her own. Too ugly, too fat. Not enough brains. Not enough money. Nowhere to go. She wasn’t strong enough. Didn’t have any friends. Blah blah blah. Over and over again he’d hammered these things into her head. Until one day, she’d started to believe it.

All of it.

Thank God for Dulce. Her best friend had remained stalwart and would never allow Cliff to come between them.

Going to her parents’ house wasn’t an option. After twenty-five years of marriage, they were in the midst of a nasty divorce, and they expected their children to take sides. There was no Switzerland to run to in this familial war. You were either for or against someone. How did you pick sides when they were both wrong? It was a lose-lose situation.

Her folks were so wrapped up in their own drama, they never even noticed their only daughter was disappearing, dying on the inside … one insult, one slap at a time.

Marigold had three older brothers she loved very much. But the love they had for each other had always been sort ofunderstoodrather thanspoken. As a result, their bond hadn’t felt strong enough for her to reach beyond her embarrassment and shame and admit, “I need you. Please help me.”

God, she missed them. One at a time, they’d each moved away, and for so long Marigold had felt left behind and like a piece of her heart had been torn from her chest, leaving a gnawing ache.

“Okay, I got us a few different sandwiches.” Dulce strolled in, interrupting Marigold’s gloomy thoughts. “I also grabbed a couple of salads.”

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