Obsessed

Chapter 16

The following days passed in a blur of slow progress and stubborn silence.

Ronnie sat in the interrogation room again, her fingers tapping in rhythm against the table. Elise sat across from her, his eyes unfocused, mouth twitching into half-smiles that never reached his gaze. He spoke in riddles, half-sentences, and occasionally dropped into a childlike voice, as if slipping into another personality entirely. But even those fleeting moments felt like a façade—as though something more calculated, more aware, loomed just beneath the surface.

“You’re protecting someone,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him.

Elise’s smile widened. “Or maybe… they’re protecting me.”

Ronnie leaned back, staring at him through narrowed eyes. Every day she sat across from him, she felt like she was staring at a cracked mirror—each reflection giving her a different version of the same broken man. And yet… none of them were the one she needed.

After the session, she stepped into the hallway, sighing as she rubbed her temples. Her brain was buzzing from the tension Elise always brought out of her. It was like trying to interview a spider—something that waited and watched, spinning threads too delicate to see.

Mark found her leaning against the wall by the break room, sipping water. “Anything new?”

She shook her head. “He’s either too far gone or playing a role he’s memorized perfectly.”

Mark exhaled, clearly frustrated. “We’ll get something. Eventually.”

Ronnie gave a small nod, then shifted her weight and turned toward him, suddenly remembering something.

“Oh—Theo wanted me to ask you something.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She smiled lightly. “He wants to know if you’ll come over for Thanksgiving. Just us, Theo, and my uncles. No pressure if you have plans or something—”

“I’d love to,” he interrupted, that soft look spreading across his face. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Ronnie blinked, momentarily surprised by how easily he’d said it. “Really?”

He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I don’t have any family nearby. Haven’t had a real Thanksgiving in a while.”

Before Ronnie could respond, the bullpen suddenly erupted with noise. The glass doors slammed open as a group of stern-looking men in dark suits swept in like a wave. Their badges were pinned to their belts—federal—and their expressions were stone-cold.

“Where’s Elise Smith?” one of them barked, eyes scanning the room.

Mark stepped forward instinctively, hand on his hip. “What’s going on?”

“We’re transferring him to federal custody,” the lead agent said. “He’s being taken to trial.”

Ronnie walked up, standing between them and the hallway. “No, he’s not ready. He’s not stable enough for trial. He’s mentally unfit.”

The man glanced her up and down, unimpressed. “With all due respect, Doctor Summers, our window is closing. He needs to be processed before the holiday freeze. That decision has already been made.”

Ronnie gritted her teeth and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But I’m riding with him. If he spirals, I’m the only one who knows how to manage him.”

Mark stepped closer, jaw tight. “Ronnie—”

But she was already turning away, following the agents as they disappeared into the hallway to collect Elise.

Mark clenched his fists for a second, then spun on his heel and disappeared into one of the side rooms. When he returned, he was holding a bulletproof vest.

She was checking her phone near the exit when he caught up.

“Here,” he said, holding out the vest. “Wear it.”

Ronnie blinked. “I’ll be fine, Mark.”

“Maybe. But it makes me feel better knowing you’re safe.” His tone softened. “Please. For me.”

She hesitated, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile. “Fine.”

Mark helped her slip it on, careful and gentle. His fingers brushed her shoulders, lingered at the straps near her waist just a second too long. She didn’t flinch—didn’t pull away like she normally would. Something about his touch was grounding, not invasive.

When she looked up, their eyes locked.

“I’ll be in the car behind you,” he said, voice low.

She nodded once, then turned to the doors as Elise was brought out in cuffs and a waist chain. He looked dazed, a strange smile on his face.

They loaded him into the back of a police SUV. Ronnie climbed in beside him without a word, adjusting the bulletproof vest beneath her jacket.

Mark stood outside the second vehicle, watching her with tense eyes as the caravan pulled away.

The SUV rumbled along the quiet backstreets just outside the city limits. Ronnie sat upright, her eyes fixed on Elise beside her. He was oddly calm, head tilted as he stared out the window like a daydreaming child. The silence in the vehicle was thick, occasionally broken by the static hum of the radio or the crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

She watched his profile out of the corner of her eye. He hadn’t said a word since they left. That in itself was unsettling.

Ronnie tapped her fingers against her thigh, counting backwards in her head in German. Zehn… neun… acht…

Up ahead, the lead vehicle slowed and took a sharp turn. The officer in the passenger seat of Ronnie’s SUV turned around. “Construction on Main—they’ve redirected traffic. We’re taking the detour.”

Mark’s vehicle, following close behind, paused at a blinking construction sign, briefly stalled by the traffic crew holding up a slow-stop sign. It wasn’t more than a minute, maybe two—but that was all it took.

Suddenly, without warning, a blinding set of headlights veered into their lane.

Ronnie barely had time to react before a massive truck with a snowplow on the front slammed into the SUV’s side. The force was deafening. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. The vehicle spun violently, flipping once, then again, before finally crashing onto its roof with a thunderous impact.

Everything went black.

Mark’s SUV finally cleared the makeshift barrier, speeding after the others—only to round the corner and see chaos.

The police SUV was upside down on the shoulder of the road, smoke billowing from the engine. One of the rear wheels spun uselessly in the air. The transport officers were scrambling out of the front seat, yelling into their radios.

Mark jumped out before the vehicle had fully stopped. “Ronnie!” he shouted, sprinting toward the wreck. “Veronica!”

A faint rustling came from the shattered rear window.

Ronnie's hand appeared first, blood streaked down her arm. She crawled halfway out before her strength gave out. Mark was there in seconds, reaching through the glass and pulling her the rest of the way out with trembling urgency.

She collapsed into him, stumbling on unsteady legs.

“Jesus—Ronnie, hey—look at me,” Mark said, voice cracking. Blood trickled down her temple from a cut near her hairline, and her pupils were dazed.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled, reaching to brush the blood away but failing. “I just—I need to—”

She swayed again, and Mark caught her just in time.

That’s when he saw it.

A jagged piece of metal—possibly debris from the SUV—had pierced her side, embedded in the bulletproof vest. Blood soaked through her shirt, staining her side a deep red. Her breath hitched, a sharp gasp escaping as her fingers clutched his arms in panic.

Mark gritted his teeth, tightening his hold. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Ronnie. You’re okay. Stay with me.”

She whimpered softly, her grip tightening. “Mark…”

“I’m here,” he said quickly, brushing her hair back. “I’ve got you. Don’t move.”

Behind him, one of the other officers shouted, “Elise is gone!”

Mark’s head snapped up. “What?”

“He’s not in the car—he’s gone! He must’ve crawled out during the crash!”

Mark’s eyes darted around the area, searching the shadows, the nearby woods, the empty road.

But his priority was Ronnie.

“We need a medic!” he barked. “Now!”

She slumped against him, conscious but clearly in pain. “I didn’t see him… I didn’t… he was just sitting there and then…”

“Shh,” Mark soothed, pressing her against his chest as his team surrounded the wreckage. “You did good. Just breathe. You’re gonna be okay.”

The flashing lights of approaching ambulances finally painted the horizon red and blue.

But the air was already cold with a new realization—Elise wasn’t just disturbed. He was dangerous. And now, he was free.