Obsessed

Chapter 10

Every Friday night like clockwork, the entire precinct migrated to The Blue Line—an old, rustic cop bar tucked between a pawn shop and an out-of-business laundromat on the edge of town. The place was dimly lit and smelled like beer-soaked wood, fried food, and a history of stories too wild for paperwork.

Tonight was no different. The entire squad rolled up, parking their cruisers and personal cars haphazardly across the lot like kids arriving at summer camp. Inside, the bar was alive—glasses clinking, boots on wood, and music low enough that it still allowed for conversation.

Jackson and a few others claimed a large booth near the back, beers already in hand, laughter rising as someone told a joke that probably wasn’t appropriate for mixed company. Mark sat at the end of the booth, nursing a single beer as his eyes scanned the room.

He never really liked these things, but he showed up anyway. Loyalty, maybe. Habit. Or the need to keep an eye on his people. Hard to say.

A pair of female detectives wandered over—Detective Lacey James and Officer Bri Langston. Both were attractive, confident, and clearly looking for an excuse to flirt.

“Hey, Marshalls,” Lacey purred, leaning a little too close. “Need another beer?”

Mark gave a polite shake of his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

Bri smirked and raised an eyebrow. “You sure? It’s on us.”

“I’m sure,” he said with a soft chuckle.

The two exchanged amused glances, offered him playful winks, and sauntered off back toward the bar.

Jackson watched the whole thing unfold with an incredulous snort. “Dude. What the hell is your secret? Why are women so into you?”

Mark shrugged and took a sip from his bottle. “Maybe because I’m not a tool like some.”

The table erupted into laughter.

Another officer chimed in, raising his drink. “It’s ‘cause he’s quiet. All mysterious and s**t. Girls eat that up.”

“No, no,” another guy said, pointing his beer at Mark. “It’s the beard. Chicks love the rugged vibe.”

A third leaned forward, elbow on the table. “Nah. It’s ‘cause he doesn’t use those garbage pickup lines like Jackson.”

More laughter.

“Hey!” Jackson grinned. “My lines are charming.”

“They’re corny,” someone else shot back.

Mark chuckled under his breath and shook his head, content to let them take jabs at each other.

Then the door opened—and everything paused.

Mark’s eyes lifted to the entrance, and for a brief moment, the din of the bar seemed to hush in his ears.

Ronnie stood in the doorway, scanning the bar like she wasn’t entirely sure if she was in the right place. The overhead lights caught her platinum blonde hair, twisted into a loose bun with a few strands falling free around her face. Her eyes found Mark’s—and her lips curved into a soft smile.

He stood without thinking, instinctive and smooth, and pulled out the empty chair beside him.

She made her way over, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. A few of the guys whistled low—not crude, just impressed. Ronnie looked striking.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” Mark replied, pulling the chair out a little farther. “Glad you came.”

She sat down, slipping off her coat. One of the other officers across the table chuckled and raised a drink. “See? Gentleman. That’s the real secret.”

Ronnie blushed slightly, sipping her beer as she settled into the group. The warmth of the booth, the hum of voices, and the simple camaraderie was... nice. She hadn’t realized how much she needed it.

As the night rolled on, they all swapped stories about the craziest arrests they’d made. Ronnie leaned in, laughing as Jackson recounted a chase involving a stolen golf cart, a goose, and a very intoxicated elderly man wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

Mark kept his eyes on her, noting how her shoulders relaxed the more she laughed. Her laugh—it was real. Unrestrained. It lit up the corners of his chest he’d almost forgotten existed.

After another drink and a few more outrageous stories, Ronnie checked her watch and pushed her chair back.

“I’ve got to make a quick call,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll come with,” Mark said, standing. “Need a smoke anyway.”

They slipped out into the crisp October night. The wind bit through their jackets, and the streetlights cast a warm glow against the pavement. Ronnie wrapped her arms around herself and pulled out her phone, stepping a few feet away as she dialed.

Mark lit a cigarette—a hand-rolled one. Ronnie caught the scent and glanced sideways. It wasn’t the usual acrid sting of standard cigarettes. It smelled... sweeter. Richer. Like actual tobacco, mixed with something almost woody.

Then she heard it—Theo’s voice over the line, bright and clear.

“Hey, buddy,” she said gently. “I’m sorry I had to work late. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Mark stepped back, giving her space, the cigarette glowing faintly in the dark.

“Can we go to the park tomorrow?” Theo asked, his voice hopeful.

“Of course,” she said warmly. “We’ll go after I get out of work, okay?”

There was a pause, and then—“Can Mark come with us?”

Ronnie blinked, her gaze shifting slowly toward the Mark leaning against the wall, smoke curling lazily around his head. She raised an eyebrow at him, amusement playing at her lips.

“I’ll ask him,” she said, covering the mouthpiece.

Theo’s little voice replied, “Okay. Love you.”

“Love you more. Three kisses,” she whispered, kissing the phone three times.

Mark watched her, his eyes caught on the delicate movement of her mouth. Something in his chest tugged—something primal. She was different out here. Soft. Warm. And that voice—so full of love it made his throat tighten.

She hung up and slid her phone into her coat pocket, rubbing her hands together to fight the cold. Her breath fogged in front of her.

“Well,” she said softly, stepping a little closer. “Theo wants to know if you’d like to come to the park with us tomorrow after work.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, flicking ash to the side. “Yeah?”

Ronnie nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He seems to like you. Which is... rare. He usually doesn’t trust people. Especially men.”

Mark’s expression softened. “That means a lot, actually.”

Ronnie smiled nervously, teeth catching her bottom lip. “So?”

Mark dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot. “Sure. I’ve got nothing going on tomorrow after work.”

She let out a small laugh, visible relief in her posture. “Good. He’ll be excited.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a beat longer, the wind picking up slightly.

“I didn’t expect tonight to be fun,” she admitted.

Mark glanced at her sideways. “Glad it was.”

She nodded, then gave him a soft punch on the arm. “C’mon. Before Jackson sends a search party.”

He chuckled, and together they walked back toward the bar, two shadows moving in sync beneath the soft flicker of the neon sign.