Page 2 of Arranged Obsession
Desperate women taking enormous leaps outside of their comfort zones. Women who have been hurt, beaten, stalked, abused, gaslit, and attacked.
Some of them are so strong it kills me. And others need more help than they’re willing to admit.
I keep going to Grace House for them. Because I have so much, and I owe the world even more.
“Good morning, Jacque,” I say as I buzz myself in through the nondescript front door. There’s nothing but the wordGracechiseled in stone to let people know that this boring, gray structure is a sanctuary for any woman who needs it.
“Morning, Bianca.” Jacque smiles at me over his newspaper. He’s the full-time security guard, a nice white guy in his late fifties with a buzz cut and a bulldog attitude. He takes his job as seriously as everyone else in this place. “Kate said to send you to her office when you get in.”
“Everything okay?”
“Just had a few new guests arrive overnight.” He scowls and shakes his head. “Never stops.”
“That’s why we’re here. Have a good day.” He rings me through, and I step into the main welcome area.
Grace House isn’t beautiful. It doesn’t have the budget for fancy rooms, bright paintings, new furniture, anything like that.
This place is as utilitarian as it gets.
But to me, it’s perfect because it serves a purpose.
It saves lives.
And so much of my family is about ruining them. The Marino Famiglia takes and takes, but this is my way of trying to balance that out. Here at Grace House, I give everything I can. I give all of me, even when it fucking hurts. Like when a woman needed to talk about how her husband used to smack her with heated frying pans as a punishment for burning dinner, or the woman who was forced into sex work by her boyfriend so they could afford drugs, or the woman who appeared one night with an infant in her arms and a broken arm begging for help. Hearing the hell they’ve been through kills me. Sometimes I leave this place with a heavy soul.
But I keep coming back because they need me.
“There you are.” Kate Rodriguez stops in the hallway ahead of me. She’s a small, sturdy woman in her sixties with dark hair and a no-bullshit stare. Some people might call itresting bitch face, but I know it’s more like armor against the worst hell this world has to offer. “We’ve got to talk.”
“Everyone good?” I follow Kate into her cramped little office. It’s more like a closet with a desk, two chairs, and three filing cabinets. Papers and forms cover every surface. I can tell she’s been here since early, based on the three empty coffee cups, and she’ll be the last to leave later tonight.
“Had some new guests show up.”
“Jacque mentioned it.”
“There are a couple of kids. I was hoping you could babysit this afternoon while we do groups.”
“Happy to help.” I smile at her and lean back. “Kids like me.”
“You’re like a weird baby savant.”
“It’s all about patience and meeting them at their level.”
She purses her lips. “I’ve got three boys, and I’m telling you, their level iswaytoo low for me.”
I laugh at that. Kate’s one of the most caring people I’ve ever met, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up with her as a mother. Talk about tough love.
“Do you want me to do the usual cleaning first?”
She shakes her head. “Bathrooms aren’t bad. Maybe later if you find some time. I think the moms need a break, and these poor kids are having a tough time.”
“What’s the story?”
“The usual.” She glances down at an intake form in front of her. “Drunk husband beat her up for years. Then the kids came along, and he started to beat them up too.” She shakes her head.“I’ve gotta warn you. The little girl, she’s six years old, and I think her nose is broken.”
My fingers go cold and start to tingle. “He did that?”
“It’s why she left.”
