Obsessed

Chapter 25

The new wiring was finally finished.

Mark didn’t take any chances. Even with the repairs, he had two officers posted outside Ronnie’s house twenty-four hours a day. They rotated in shifts, trained to be discreet but thorough. He even brought in a private security team to install cameras around the perimeter, front and back, with extra surveillance in the basement. The entire system was linked directly to Ronnie’s phone, her laptop, and Mark’s phone as well. It wasn’t just precaution anymore—it was personal.

Ronnie handed him a spare key that afternoon without much ceremony. She placed it in his palm like it was just a key, but they both knew it meant more. It was trust. And it said something louder than either of them were ready to put into words.

Thursday arrived faster than expected.

Theo was a blur of chaotic excitement—spinning in circles, flinging socks, and talking a mile a minute as he bounced around his bedroom like a pinball. “Where’s my space book? Wait! I need Mr. Chompers! And my green dinosaur socks, not the blue ones!”

Ronnie giggled as she tried to guide the whirlwind, scooping up his favorite fidget toys, neatly folding his pajamas, and tucking his plushies into the open suitcase. “You don’t need six stuffed animals, buddy.”

“I do! They have personalities, Ronnie,” he said with exaggerated exasperation, not breaking stride.

Mark leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching them. His usual guarded expression softened into something fond and protective. He could see it—how tightly tethered they were to one another, how even through the laughter, Ronnie’s fingers trembled ever so slightly each time she folded a shirt or zipped a pouch.

Then, mid-rant, Theo froze, grabbed his groin with a little yelp, and shouted, “I gotta pee!” He sprinted past Mark like a streak of lightning and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Mark chuckled, shaking his head.

Inside the room, Ronnie was on her knees by the suitcase again, carefully folding Theo’s last few shirts. Her movements were precise, methodical, but her shoulders were just a bit too still. Her back rose and fell unevenly. Mark stepped into the room, his boots silent against the carpet. He crouched next to her, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.

“You okay?”

She sniffled once, blinking hard. “Yeah,” she said, but her voice cracked halfway through the word. “It’s just… Theo’s never been away from me for more than a day. And even then, he was just at Marvin and Gale’s. I was fifteen minutes away. Not across the country. What if something happens? What if he gets scared or… hurt?”

Her voice cracked again and this time, the tears fell freely. She wiped at them quickly, but Mark was already turning toward her, kneeling now, facing her fully. His hand came up to gently tilt her face toward his. His thumb brushed a tear from her cheek.

“He’s going to be okay,” Mark said softly, voice low and steady. “Marvin and Gale are solid. You know they love him like he’s theirs. They’ll keep him safe. This isn’t forever, Ron. It’s just until we get this bastard behind bars.”

Her lip trembled. “I know… it’s just… he’s my everything, Mark.”

“I know he is.” He leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against her skin. “And you’re his.”

Ronnie’s eyes searched his, and for a moment, the room held its breath. Mark’s gaze dropped to her mouth for the briefest second, just before he leaned in slightly more—but the thundering patter of Theo’s socked feet barreling back into the room shattered the moment.

Mark leaned back, clearing his throat as Ronnie quickly wiped the last of her tears.

Theo stopped at the edge of the room, suspiciously eyeing them. “Are you crying again, Ronnie?”

“No,” she said, too quickly. “I’m—shut up.”

Theo just gave her a knowing squint before turning his attention to Mark. “Did you pack your big muscles? ‘Cause someone’s gotta protect my sister while I’m gone.”

Mark gave him a crooked grin. “I’ve got them locked and loaded.”

Theo walked up and threw his arms around Mark’s neck, hugging him tightly. He leaned in close and whispered, “Take care of my sister. She’s helpless without me.”

Mark chuckled, his arms tightening briefly. “Was already planning on it, little man.”

Later that afternoon

The sound of Marvin’s minivan pulling up caused Theo to squeal and dash for the door. Ronnie trailed behind him with a suitcase in one hand and a small backpack slung over her shoulder.

Marvin stepped out first, wearing his usual tailored jacket and oversized sunglasses. Gale followed in flip-flops and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt even though it was freezing. Together, they looked like the perfectly mismatched duo that they were.

Theo tackled them both in a bear hug. “Are we flying in a rocket?”

“No, sweetheart,” Marvin laughed, “We’re flying on a plane, not in a rocket. But I love your imagination.”

Ronnie crouched down, brushing Theo’s hair from his forehead. “Be good. Listen to Uncle Marvin and Uncle Gale. And don’t eat anything that makes you itchy.”

“I packed my gummies,” Theo said proudly.

“I know. I made sure,” she smiled.

“I’ll call you every night,” he said seriously, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment. “So you don’t miss me too much.”

Her throat caught again. “I’ll be waiting.”

They hugged once more before Theo climbed into the van, buckling himself in with focused intensity.

Marvin hugged Ronnie tightly. “Go solve this case. We’ve got him.”

“Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder.

When the van pulled away, Ronnie stood on the curb with Mark beside her, arms crossed as they watched it turn the corner. She didn’t speak for a while.

Finally, Mark said, “Want coffee? Or want to punch something?”

“ Maybe both,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “I know a place.”

The precinct gym was mostly empty by late afternoon.

Mark held the door open for Ronnie as she stepped inside, her arms wrapped loosely around herself, eyes scanning the space with curious hesitation. The scent of sweat and rubber mats clung to the air. Dumbbells lined one wall, a few punching bags hung from the ceiling, and mats covered the floor in one corner like a soft battlefield.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Ronnie asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

Mark raised a brow. “You said you wanted to punch something.”

“I said I might want to punch something,” she corrected, lips twitching.

He tossed her a pair of workout gloves. “Let’s find out.”

Mark walked over to the padded area and motioned for her to follow. He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on a nearby bench. Ronnie tried not to stare too long when he rolled up the sleeves of his black thermal shirt, revealing his forearms and the cords of muscle beneath.

“Okay,” he said, clapping his hands once. “Let’s start simple. Someone grabs your wrist—what do you do?”

Ronnie looked down at her arm. “I don’t know. Panic?”

Mark grinned. “Let’s fix that.”

He moved behind her gently, taking her right wrist in his hand, slowly showing her how to twist and break free. He explained the pressure points, how to shift her weight, where to aim if she needed to land a quick hit. His touch was firm, careful, and never too long. But every brush of his fingertips left a trail of heat behind, and she could feel his breath close to her ear when he adjusted her stance.

“Now try it faster,” he said.

She did—and her elbow accidentally jabbed his side.

Mark winced but grinned. “Okay, so you’ve got good instincts.”

“Sorry!”

“Don’t be. That’s the whole point.”

They kept practicing. He walked her through several quick-release techniques, how to disarm someone grabbing from behind, how to slam a palm heel into a chin or throat. Ronnie caught on faster than expected. Her movements were hesitant at first, then sharper, more confident.

At one point, Mark caught her wrist mid-pivot and their bodies paused, closer than they’d intended. Ronnie was slightly breathless, her chest rising and falling under her fitted tee. Mark’s hand was still wrapped around her arm, their faces barely a foot apart.

Neither moved.

His eyes lingered on her mouth just a beat too long.

Ronnie’s breath caught, lips parting.

The tension thickened in the space between them—charged, heavy. Mark’s hand slowly released her wrist and moved to her jaw, brushing back a lock of hair tucked behind her ear. The pad of his thumb barely grazed her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered, but she didn’t pull away. Her fingers brushed his forearm, tentative.

Mark leaned in—

The gym door creaked open.

Ronnie jumped slightly, and Mark stepped back fast, his hand dropping to his side like nothing happened. A younger officer strolled in with headphones half-in, oblivious as he made a beeline for the punching bag in the far corner.

Mark cleared his throat, stepping toward his water bottle.

They stood in silence for a beat, the sound of distant thuds from the punching bag filling the space.

Ronnie broke the tension with a breathy laugh. “Okay, well, you’ve successfully taught me how to jab, elbow, and flee.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “All in a day’s work.”

They walked toward the benches again, and Mark grabbed a towel, dabbing the sweat from his neck. Ronnie sat down and pulled off the gloves, flexing her fingers.

“Can I ask you something?” she said after a moment.

Mark’s brow lifted as he leaned against the wall beside her. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the Army? I mean, at eighteen? That’s… young.”

The question made Mark still slightly. He stared at the far wall for a few seconds, his jaw ticking before he answered.

“My dad,” he said quietly. “He was a drunk. A mean one.”

Ronnie looked over at him, expression softening.

“He used to hit my mom. A lot. Screaming, shoving, broken things—it was normal, to me, for too long. She left when I was five. Just… vanished one night after a fight. I think she just couldn’t take it anymore. But she didn’t take me with her.”

Ronnie’s heart twisted. “Mark…”

He shook his head slightly. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not. But I survived. After she left, my dad’s anger needed somewhere to go. Guess who became the new target.”

Her hands tightened around the gloves in her lap.

“I tried to fight back once I was old enough, but it just made things worse. I was always angry. Always ready to throw the first punch. Always getting in fights at school. Then I turned eighteen, signed the papers, and enlisted the next day. Never looked back.”

Ronnie stared at him in silence, her eyes damp.

“I didn’t join because I wanted to serve my country,” he admitted. “Not back then. I joined because I needed to get the hell away from him. The military became something else later. But in the beginning, it was just survival, a way out.”

She reached out and gently touched his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Mark looked down at their fingers, then back up into her eyes. “Don’t be. It’s part of who I am.”

“You’re a good man, Mark.”

He gave her a tired smile. “You say that like it surprises you.”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “It just… reassures me.”

Mark turned his hand so their fingers laced together, just for a second.

Then the young cop in the corner dropped his gloves with a loud grunt, breaking the moment once again.

Mark cleared his throat. “Want to get some air?”

“God, yes.”