Page 80 of Dangerous Obsession

“Shit,” he whispered when he saw a large, black pickup parked next to the back door.

He couldn’t envision Marigold driving something like that—the thing was jacked way up off the ground. It had to belong to the bodyguard. Cliff never believed the guy would just take off and leave Marigold. If the asshole was in there with her, he’d just have to take care of him.

Nothing was going to stand between him and Marigold.

The whole reason he’d told her to wait an hour was to give him enough time to get there. He’d driven over the speed limit most of the way and was shocked he hadn’t gotten pulled over. Good thing, because any interaction with law enforcement would’ve ended badly for him.

He scrutinized the parking lot and the back of the boutique. There was a camera mounted at the corner of the building that pointed down to the lot. Another was directly over the back door, which had a touchpad on the wall next to it.

After what happened this morning, he knew there were alarms and shit, so trying to break in wouldn’t work. He’d lose the element of surprise. His only option was to wait outside until she left and grab her before she got to that truck.

He wrestled his way behind a row of bushes about four feet high, careful to avoid detection by the cameras. Branches damp from a recent rain pulled, scraped, and tore at his sleeves, and he struggled to squat down behind them. They offered excellent concealment, and she would never even know he was there until it was too late.

About a half hour later, his knees began to ache and his feet were going numb from being in the same position so long. He finally gave up and dropped to his ass on the landscape bark. He straightened his legs, and the butt of his jeans instantly began absorbing water.

“Just fuckin’ great.”

Marigold saved her spreadsheet, closed the document, and shut down her laptop. She looked up at the antique mantel clock on the shelf across the room.

“Holy moly!” She’d been there longer than anticipated.

She yawned, stretched her arms high overhead, then spun her chair to check the cameras. She clicked two keys on the keyboard, and the view of the sidewalk and a section of the street in front of the store filled the screen.

Brian, Sebastian’s security guy, stood on the sidewalk in front of the boutique, his back to the door. His gray sedan was parked at the curb. Dulce and her parents had insisted on waiting until he arrived, and Sebastian made the introductions. She’d seen Brian at past events, hovering on the sidelines, watching over the Houldcrofts.

Having spent so much time around Dulce and her parents growing up, she was somewhat used to the presence of security details. She just wasn’t used to being the person they were protecting.

Marigold lifted the back of Viking’s sweatshirt, slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans, then pulled the sweatshirt over her butt. She tucked her laptop into her messenger bag and squatted down next to Nicky’s crate.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to blow this joint.” She checked that the door of the carrier was locked and lifted it by the handle. She looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and did a quick stroll around the inside of the store.

The plywood where the plate glass used to be was a garish reminder that poor Shayna was out there somewhere—scared and abused. It was horrifying to think of the young girl in the hands of a brutal monster like Cliff.

“Viking will find her.” Marigold had to believe that or else she’d lose it.

She clicked off the coffeepot in the break room. The accent lamps in the retail area were still on, so Marigold shut off the overhead lights. She was halfway through inputting the alarm code before realizing she’d forgotten to let Brian know she was leaving.

“I’ll send him a text.” She tapped out a message on her phone and sent it.

She entered the rest of the code, there was aclunkfrom the dead bolt releasing, and she pushed the door open with her shoulder. She stepped outside just as his reply came through.

Brian: Please remain inside, and I’ll come around and escort you to your vehicle.

“Oh, oops.” Marigold started to head back inside and stopped at the sound of footsteps hurrying up behind her. She turned with a smile. “Sorry, I—” Her smile fell and she stumbled backward until her shoulders collided with the wall.

Shock froze her in place. Everything flooded white, and neither her mouth nor her legs seemed to work. In a split second, every bit of sound was sucked into an endless abyss. Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint, and she was certain she might crumple to the ground.

Charging at her was the man who was a recurring character in her worst nightmares. The man who’d belittled her, scarred her, hurt her. He clamped onto her upper arm hard enough to leave deep bruises, and she dropped the carrier. It hit the ground, and the door popped open.

Adrenaline surged through her and pounded in her ears.

“Let me go!” Marigold tried to shake him loose.

“Stop!” a man yelled.

She turned and saw Brian rounding the corner of the building, gun up and aimed at Cliff. “Let her go.”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

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