Dangerous Obsession

by Jessica R. Patch

  She’d said to meet him in the hotel lobby at six. He grabbed his keys, wallet and phone and headed that way. She sat on a bar stool drinking a soda and looking absolutely stunning. Glad not to be wearing a tie, he felt choked already. He leaned against the bar and tapped her shoulder, startling her. Her head was somewhere else. Fear coursed through those coffee-bean-colored eyes. Her smile didn’t reach them.

  But he’d let it go. For now.

  “You ready, Miss LaCroix?” He extended his elbow and she accepted and slid off the stool, reaching him at chin-level in her sleek red heels. “You look incredible.”

  She snorted and adjusted her snug but not too revealing dress. “Puh-leeze.”

  Cosette wasn’t what he’d call model thin, but then he thought those women needed a roast beef sandwich. He liked her curves.

  They drove to a nearby park. The pavilion had been decorated in strands of twinkling white lights and a live band played. Cosette opted out of name tags. Newspaper stretched across a long table and mounds of crawfish, corn on the cob, shrimp and baby potatoes spilled from one end to the other. Wilder’s mouth watered.

  Cosette filled her plate, but she wasn’t herself. Nervous. Fidgety. Distracted. Head down, making zero eye contact with people.

  Wilder didn’t like it. Didn’t like that worry and fear in her eyes. He scanned the scene. Booze flowed and smoke drifted on the warm Southern air. His instincts went on high alert. Something eerie wafted with the laughter and Cajun spices.

  “You want to sit over at that picnic table?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  A few women stopped her and chatted. Typical female jest. They grinned, but sized one another up. Who’d gained more weight? Who had the better job? The better man? As if it wasn’t obvious. He was a man and could see it. Women. Wilder shook his head, but smiled as Cosette introduced him.

  They gawked at his hair.

  He ought to cut it. But he had to admit—to himself and no one else alive—he loved his hair. No reason. Just did.

  They moseyed to the table as the New Orleans jazz band played. People whirled on the gazebo dance floor. But Cosette was not into this night. “So how bad did you hate high school?” he asked.

  She pinched the mudbug and sucked the juice out, then went to work on the tail like a pro. That was one thing Wilder could not do. “Bad,” she said and dived into another one. “But I worked my behind off so I could get scholarships for college. Get educated...get out.”

  “Why are you here then?” Maybe he’d get to the truth. Probably not. Cosette was working pitifully hard to conceal something. She wasn’t bound to crack anytime soon, and ribbing her would only prolong it. And yet he couldn’t help himself. The deep desire to know, to protect, to fix whatever ailed her nagged him half to death.

  “I miss the music.”

  “Pandora station right there on your phone.”

  “I like my music live.”

  “Buy a live album.”

  She scowled and ignored his remark. He peeled his shrimp and ate. Spicy enough to open his sinuses.

  Several more former students made their way to the table and chatted with Cosette. Every time, she seemed afraid, and she never stopped scanning the woods, the crowds. Finally, after eating a piece of key lime pie, she excused herself to the restroom, and Wilder went straight for the cherry crisp. She hadn’t returned by the time he’d eaten that and drunk a cup of punch, so he strode toward the restrooms and caught a blonde coming out.

  “Have you seen Cosette? Cosette LaCroix?” Something was wrong, burning his gut like acid, and it wasn’t the Cajun food.

  “She’s not in there.” A sly grin slid across the woman’s face. “I think I saw her talking to Beau Chauvert earlier. She may have slipped off with him. Old Beau—in many ways. But she’d be crazy to go with him. Not with a man like you at her side.”

  Wilder wanted to say “Go home, lady, you’re drunk.” But she’d probably think it was full of innuendo. “Thanks,” he said instead and darted behind the restrooms. Where could she be? He knew Cosette well enough to know she wouldn’t slip into the dark with any man willingly.

  * * *

  “Beau! Let go of me!” Cosette hollered as her high school boyfriend hauled her farther into the woods. She clawed at his beefy arms, sickened at his booze-laced breath.

  “I just wanted to talk to you. To dance. I’ve missed you.”

  Her blood froze. The first line in the note she’d received... Did she have it all wrong? Had Beau sent the card?

  “But you don’t want to talk. Or dance with the likes of me. I’m not good enough for you now.” He shoved her against a tree. “I used to be very good for you.”

  Cosette’s stomach roiled and the bark dug into the thin fabric of her dress.

  “You are lookin’ so fine. Little thicker than I remember, but I’m not complaining.”

  “Beau,” she said, trying to remain calm. To see him as a hostile patient. “You’re drunk. Why don’t you sleep it off, and we can talk tomorrow when you’re sober. I’m in town a couple more days.” But she wouldn’t be seeing him, that was for sure.

  He released his grip and she stepped away from the tree, her heart racing. She slowly backed out of the woods.

  Beau stepped forward and grabbed her forearm. She’d have bruising tomorrow. “You think you’re all uppity now? I know what you really are.”

  Brush and twigs snapped.

  Cosette would recognize the imposing figure a mile away.

  “You have less than a second to take your hands off her,” Wilder said, his voice low and menacing. The man could be boyish and charming, and in an instant, menacing and terrifying. It sent a zing into her middle.

  Beau was a bully. This wouldn’t end well—for Beau.

  “And just what are you gonna do about it?” he spat, spittle landing in dots on Cosette’s neck.

  In a blink, Wilder had inserted himself between the two of them. He faced Beau, put his palm flush against Cosette’s belly and guided her behind him, leaving his hand resting against her. The feel of his warmth seeping through the fabric of her dress brought her comfort as well as butterflies.

  “When I was in fourth grade, two sixth grade bullies would take my milk money. Every. Single. Day.”

  Where in the world was this going?

  “You know what I did about it?”

  Uh-oh.

  “Nothing.”

  Beau chuckled. “And you’re gonna do nothin’ about this, either. This is between me and my old lady.”

  Wilder’s face appeared relaxed, except for that one little tick in his jaw when Beau called her his. She wasn’t his. She belonged to nobody but herself.

  Wilder cocked his head, pressed his hand more firmly into her belly as he guided her another step back. “The reason I did nothing wasn’t out of fear. I didn’t care because...I just don’t like milk.”

  “Wilder,” Cosette whispered. Now was not the time for one of his many anecdotes.

  “But then they started bullying the milk money from my sister Meghan, and Meghan loved her chocolate milk. Every day at one fifteen. So I had to get involved. Because she was my baby sister and I cared about her.”

  Uh-oh. His voice had changed. Become deeper. Sinister. He was going to—

  He wrenched Beau’s arm behind his back and slammed him face-first into a tree. Beau cried out. “Now, if I apply just a bit more pressure—” Wilder said.

  Beau cried out again.

  “—your elbow’s gonna break. It’s excruciating. Or you can apologize to the lady—who doesn’t belong to you and is far from old—and not only leave the area but the event. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Beau nodded profusely.

  By now, a small crowd had gathered. Cosette’s cheeks heated.

  “And don’t drive drunk.�
� He let up on Beau. Beau turned and swung.

  Wilder grabbed his fist and put him on the ground, then planted his foot on Beau’s back like a weight. “Can one of you spectators come take this jerk home before he gets himself killed?”

  Not that Wilder would kill him. But he was furious. A cold and quiet kind of fury. She’d seen it before. Much more frightening than someone blowing a gasket.

  One of Beau’s old buddies stepped up. “I—I can.”

  Wilder raked his hand through his hair and put his arm around Cosette. “Let’s go buy a red velvet cake and two forks.” He said it as if he hadn’t just been involved in an altercation.

  “That’s my favorite cake,” she said and leaned into him as they blew past her gaping classmates, loathing herself for resting in his strength and comfort. She didn’t want to need him or have these feelings stirring inside her. Wilder gave her security, and if she lapped it up, she’d be a lost puppy. Nope. Not happening. Time to get a handle on her feelings ASAP.

  “I know.” He led her to the parking lot as crickets chirped. Music continued to play in the distance, and her heart thumped to a beat she refused to register.

  Wilder opened the car door for her, but blocked her from getting inside. “I don’t understand. If this guy scares you so bad, why did you bother to come? You’ve barely spoken to anyone. And did you really date that mule?”

  Cosette hung her head, humiliation and shame flushing her face. If he thought Beau was bad, he’d really look down on her for Jeffrey.

  Wilder tipped up her chin. “Hey, look at me... We all have exes from our teenage years we wish we didn’t. But you could have done so much better.”

  Back then, she didn’t believe that. And now? Now she just wanted to be alone even if it was lonely.

  He brushed his thumb across her jawline. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I’m fine.” Now. Thanks to Wilder.

  “He won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of that.”

  Cosette believed him. But what about the real threat out there? The cunning and manipulative man who lurked in the shadows and hid behind his PhD? Or was Beau the real threat? If he wasn’t the original danger, after the humiliation, he would be one now. The thought hung over her like a thick blanket of cold darkness and she shivered.

  “Is there anything else I need to know, Cosette?”

  He must be getting that superhero hunch. She swallowed the truth, choking on it. “No. No, I’m fine.”

  For now.

  * * *

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Wilder asked.

  Cosette gripped the door handle of the rental car and stared out at the sea of tombstones marking the lives of loved ones. “No.” She did this alone every year. She’d never feared coming, though. Until now. “I know some people would say that she’s not there—not really. And I know that. She’s in heaven with Jesus. But it comforts me to come. To talk to her as if she’s alive. To clean up the weeds and replace the flowers. I’ve—I’ve even brought a blanket before and spent a whole afternoon.”

  “Would you like to do that now? I can come back for—”

  “No!” She choked down the fear. Jeffrey might be out here, hidden in the woods, watching and waiting. Or Beau. With no car, no Wilder... She couldn’t risk being stranded. And that’s how she felt. Stranded. Alone. Hedged in. She forced a pleasant expression. “I mean...no, thanks.”

  The lines in Wilder’s brow deepened and he searched the cemetery as if scanning for threats. “I’ll be here. Stay as long as you like. I have a book.”

  “You’re reading a book?” She bit down on her lip and smirked. “I mean, I’m not implying...” She sighed. Wilder was well-educated, he just didn’t like much fiction. Most military suspense wasn’t believable, according to him. “I—”

  “How about I pull you up out of that gigantic hole you just dug?” His grin lit up and warmed a few dark and empty places within her. “It’s by a former SEAL. Not rocket science.” He tugged a strand of her hair. “Go on. Go talk to your mama.”

  “Thank you, Wilder. For everything. Even the cake, though I certainly don’t need it.” She was five-eight and wore size twelve. “Hippie chick” brought a whole new meaning when coupled with her. In today’s society, she’d be a plus-size model! Okay, enough self-hatred over weight. She had other things to hate herself for that were far worse.

  “Cake looks good on you.” He held up his book and motioned with his chin for her to get going.

  She exited the vehicle and weaved slowly through the cemetery. Memories of her and Mama cooking, baking, shopping, sunbathing, filled her mind. Cosette missed her so. If only she would have left for safety’s sake.

  He loves me, Cosie.

  You don’t know him. He doesn’t mean to do it.

  He’s sorry. Really. Deep down he’s a good man.

  He’s had a terrible life. If you only knew...

  One excuse after another to defend Dad. Cosette wiped a tear and stood before Mama’s grave. She clasped her throat. Someone had already replaced the old flowers with a bouquet of white tulips. Cosette dropped to her knees and yanked them out of the vase. Jeffrey would not get this pleasure.

  Then she saw a small black velvet box buried in the weeds. Her lungs turned to brick.

  Hands trembling, she picked up the box and opened it. Inside were a pair of pink tourmaline earrings. Round. Simple. Cosette scanned the secluded cemetery, finding its hallowedness and peacefulness gone. Jeffrey had ruined this. She hung her head and sobbed, fear rising in her throat and leaving her dizzy and angry...so angry that he would do this. Wreck this one place she held dear. That’s when she saw the slip of paper.

  She wiped her eyes and removed it from the box.

  I’ll always love you.

  Would she ever be rid of this man? Why would he come back after two years of being quiet? It wasn’t like she’d used cash or changed her name. She’d blocked him from her cell phone, but she hadn’t changed the number; her patients might need her, and she wanted to be available to each one of them.

  If he’d hired a PI, it wouldn’t have taken this long to track her to Atlanta. Something must have triggered him. She wadded up the note and dropped the earrings in her purse.

  Lord, I know You’re probably not listening much to me, since I’m unwilling to forgive my dad—You know where I stand on that. But please, please don’t let this turn into what it was in Washington. Please!

  She searched the tree line. Had she evaded his trap by coming early? If he was in Atlanta, following her, wouldn’t he know she’d left for the airport two days ago?

  “Sorry to cut things short, Mama, but I’m in real trouble here and I’m scared.” Scared she’d end up lying right next to her. Because Cosette would never surrender to Jeffrey and it would eventually bring him to a vengeful state. He’d try to kill her before it was over. And if Beau had decided to come after her...she was in a heap of trouble.

  “I love you, Mama, but I gotta go.” She kissed her fingertips and placed them on Mama’s headstone, then scurried back to the car.

  Wilder scowled. “I’ve read maybe ten pages and I’m not a slow reader. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I’m ready to go.”

  A dark eyebrow arched and he held her gaze a beat longer than she liked, but then he motioned to the passenger seat. “We have time to kill before we have to be at the airport. You hungry?” he asked.

  Not even a little bit. “Sure.”

  They chose a restaurant near the airport.

  Inside, at their table, he said, “When Caley was about six, she climbed a tree. She’d watched me and Meghan do it earlier. Mama told her not to. But hey, she was six and had something to prove.”

  Good grief. Another anecdote.

  “But she fell and skinned her knee and bloodied her nose. You picking u
p what I’m putting down?”

  “Stay out of trees?”

  He huffed. “If you keep trying to hide whatever’s got you scared...you’ll end up bloodied. Don’t wreck that pretty face by falling on it.”

  He wasn’t far from the truth. She might very well end up exactly as he said. She didn’t want to run again, and anyway, where would she go? She was safest with Wilder. Not telling him might get him hurt. But she wasn’t sure what scared her most: admitting the truth, Beau Chauvert or Jeffrey Levitts.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. I don’t like it. I probably won’t keep quiet for long. But right now, you can eat in peace. Talk about something else.”

  “Are you letting it slide because you know I’ll expect you to reciprocate and give me therapy time? Fair is fair, after all.”

  “Nothing about life is fair, Cosette.” Wilder ran his finger down the menu, browsing. “And the difference is I don’t need to talk. I’m not scared. You most definitely are, which means there’s a threat out there. I can make that go away for you.”

  “What happened to eating in peace?” She couldn’t even concentrate on the menu. Nothing appealed to her stomach, but when the server returned she ordered the salmon and jasmine rice.

  “I also said I probably wouldn’t keep quiet for long.” His playful smirk loosened some of the nerves bundled in her chest and she breathed deep. Decided to switch subjects.