Obsessed (The Lizzy Gardner Series) (6 page)

CHAPTER 10

“Fighters, get into position,” the instructor shouted.

Lizzy walked to the middle of the ring. She was at the UFC fighting gym where she, Tommy, and Hayley trained at least twice a month. The floor was covered with thick mats. Sweat dripped from her face after a longer-than-normal warm-up.

As she had been taught, Lizzy staggered her feet—right foot back, left foot forward, about a foot and a half apart. Then she raised both gloved fists to just below her jaw.

The woman she’d been paired with and was now facing did the same.

Although Lizzy continued to teach teenage girls to defend themselves, she also liked to challenge herself and learn new defense techniques. She had been taking UFC fighting lessons for a couple of years. She recognized most of the people in the room, including Rhonda, the woman she was about to fight. Rhonda was stocky and well muscled, with hair cut short around her ears. Rhonda was also pissed off. They both wore headgear, but nothing could hide the scowl on her face. If Lizzy knew Rhonda better, she might have asked her what the problem was, but it was too late now anyhow, since the fight was about to begin.

This was fight night. More people showed up for fight night than any other. There were rules: no knees to the groin or head. No eye gouging or fishhooking. No hair grabbing, no biting. No strikes to the throat or spine.

As instructed, they both jabbed air, first with their left fists, then their right, pointing with their thumbs and aiming with their knuckles. A few shouts from the crowd egged them on, although heckling from the crowd was not something they encouraged there.

The bell rang.

Lizzy moved forward and clipped Rhonda across the chin on the first jab, and then threw another quick combination to her shoulder and middle.

Rhonda literally growled as she lunged forward, hitting Lizzy with an uppercut, two jabs in the ribs, and a jarring right hook to her temple. Despite the padding beneath her shirt and the headgear, it took Lizzy a moment to regain her senses, which gave Rhonda time to put everything she had—her legs, her body, her whole being—into each strike.

Lizzy felt a sting in her face, shoulder, and ribs. She staggered backward until she was pressed against the rubber ropes. She tasted blood.
Where the hell was everyone?
When the referee at last appeared, he made the necessary motions to call off the fight.

But Rhonda wasn’t having any part of it. She wanted blood.

Fight nights were supposed to be all in good fun. The refs didn’t wear headgear.

Rhonda landed a perfect haymaker on the ref, knocking him to the ground. Before anyone else could get in the ring, Rhonda was coming at her again.

On any other day, Lizzy might have been worried. As it was, though, this chick wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad day. Lizzy pretended to wave her off, knowing Rhonda had already committed, then surprised Rhonda with some moves of her own: a fast jab to her chin, two more to the bad left shoulder she always bitched about. Two more strikes to her gut, a knee to her stomach, jab, jab, strike. Bringing her hips around, Lizzy ended with a hard kick to the woman’s side, eliciting a loud grunt.

Rhonda spit out every curse word in the book as she came at Lizzy, slamming her head into Lizzy’s gut. She was a brawler, pounding her with one blow after another, relentless, using her considerable weight to push Lizzy out of the ring. Lizzy got to her feet, but Rhonda had slipped through the ropes and pushed Lizzy into the wall, taking the breath right out of her. Another left hook and then a right to the side of her face. More blood.

People were yelling now. Somebody tried to get Rhonda off her. It was Tommy, and he took a right hook to his chin and a left to the face that staggered him, allowing Rhonda to turn back to Lizzy again.

Apparently, Rhonda was just getting started.

Lizzy used her legs to block most of the kicks, but Rhonda got in a couple more before a group of trainers managed to pull the crazy woman off her.

Lizzy was on the ground, her back against the wall. She gave herself a couple of minutes to breathe.

Tommy hunkered down next to her. He pulled off her headgear and her gloves. He used a wet cloth somebody handed him to wipe the blood from her chin.

At close view, Lizzy realized Tommy no longer resembled the insecure boy from the past. His jawline was defined, his body bulkier, his eyes bright. He’d grown into a man, and she wondered why she hadn’t notice before this moment. Maybe she just needed to have the shit beaten out of her to really see things clearly.

“What the hell got into her?” Lizzy asked him.

“Hayley beat her good a few months ago. You weren’t here. They were supposed to have a rematch tonight. I guess you got what was meant for Hayley.”

“Wonderful.” Lizzy shook her head. “And here I thought I was ready for anything.”

“Don’t feel bad. You held your own. Rhonda was limping and having a hard time breathing after taking those jabs to the ribs. And unlike Rhonda, you still have one good eye.”

Lizzy smiled at him. “I guess that’s one way of seeing the glass half full.”

He pressed his fingertips to the top of her forehead and tilted her face to the light to assess the damage. “How many months until you walk down the aisle?”

Her smile turned to a grimace. “That bad, huh?”

“You’re going to be black and blue for a few weeks.”

“At least I didn’t lose any teeth.” She gestured toward the door where she saw Jared looking around the room. “Looks like my ride is here.”

Tommy helped her to her feet. “Want me to put your equipment away for you?”

“No, I need to go to the locker room and clean up a bit. If you could tell Jared I’ll just be a minute, I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Lizzy put away her equipment before she took a quick shower in the locker room. She was sore and beat-up, but the headgear and body pads had taken the worst of it. She changed into a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt and then went in search of Jared.

She found him near the front door, looking handsome as always. He tended to grow younger while she grew older. She couldn’t remember a time that she looked at him that her heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

She planted a kiss on his jaw and pretended she didn’t have a bruised face, a swollen lip, and battered rib cage. “Thanks for picking me up. My car is ready, but if you want to buy a girl some dinner first, I won’t argue.”

“Tommy told me what happened. You look pretty beat-up. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“As Tommy pointed out, I still have one good eye. You should see Rhonda.”

“I’d rather not.”

By the time they found parking at Zocalo’s in Midtown Sac and were served chips and guacamole, Lizzy’s head was throbbing. Her swollen lip wasn’t helping either.

“Having trouble eating?” Jared asked.

She nodded.

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Have you thought more about quitting the PI business?”

It hurt to smile, but she couldn’t help it. “Every day and every minute,” she said. “And I always come to the same conclusion: I’m not going to give up the business.”

“Seriously. Maybe it’s time for you to think about doing something less dangerous. You used to make jewelry. Maybe you could open your own shop.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“About what?”

“About all of it,” she said as she took her hand back and pointed to her eye. “This shiner is the worst that has happened to me in two years. And for the record, the last time I made a pair of earrings was when I was in high school. I’m shocked you even remember.”

The waitress brought them their dinner.

“What about Kate and Adonis?” Jared asked when they were alone again.

She wrinkled her nose. “Who?”

“Our kids, the ones we haven’t had yet.”

“You truly are hopeless,” she said.

“A hopeless romantic.”

“You’re not planning on keeping me barefoot and pregnant, are you?” She pointed a finger his way and feigned a horrified look. “My God, that’s it, isn’t it?”

He shook his head as if she were a lost cause.

She took a bite of food and chewed carefully.

“Have you given much thought to the wedding?” he asked after a moment. “In case you’ve forgotten, it’s only two months away.”

“I finally got the nerve to ask Hayley if she’d be a bridesmaid.”

“And what did she say?”

“That she would think about it.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?”

“Have you told either of them we set a date?”

“I told Mom last week.”

“And?”

It was Lizzy’s turn to reach over the table and give his hand a loving squeeze. “She’s happy for us.” Lizzy didn’t have the heart to tell him that her mother couldn’t care less. She was busy with a new boyfriend and only wanted to talk about the trip the two of them were planning. Chances were they would be gone the entire month of December.

Lizzy’s phone buzzed. She read the text. “Damn.”

“What is it?”

“I was supposed to pick up the dog today. I completely forgot.”

“You got a dog?”

“Oh. I didn’t tell you, did I?”

He shook his head.

“On my way to Hayley’s the other morning, a flashy sports car hit a dog. The driver didn’t slow down for a minute. I took the poor animal to the vet, hoping they would know what to do with the dog after I got him all fixed up. The poor thing had a broken leg and yet he managed to follow me to my car. He’s a tough one.”

Jared ate as she talked. He looked amused.

“Anyhow,” she went on, “the animal hospital told me they would need to keep the dog for a few days. I was supposed to call this morning.” She stopped talking. Her eyes watered. “How would I ever take care of our child if I can’t even take care of a dog?”

Jared smiled at her. “It’s not the same thing, Lizzy. Besides, you’ve been busy. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Where is the dog now?”

“I took him to a place close to Hayley’s apartment.”

“Why don’t you call Hayley and see if she can pick him up? I’m sure she won’t mind keeping him at her place for a few days until you find the dog a home.”

CHAPTER 11

After driving around the streets of Sacramento for hours, Seth realized he didn’t know what to do with himself now that Madeline was safe and no longer needed his protection. More than anything, he wanted to send her flowers, but of course that would be stupid. He needed to lie low for at least a little while.

His mission in life had been removed. He was a wreck and was having a difficult time concentrating. He couldn’t remember the last time he got more than a few hours of sleep. When he’d looked in the mirror this morning, he’d hardly recognized himself. His thinning hair hung like wet spaghetti noodles across his forehead and over his ears. He’d lost weight. His eyes had a sunken-in look. He was a mess.

With nowhere else to go, he headed home.

Janelle greeted him at the door. She took his briefcase from him—the one he carried solely because it made him feel like a professional—then helped him remove his jacket. He usually pushed her away, but tonight he was too tired to care.

“Oh, my poor baby,” she said. “I made you your favorite meal.” After disappearing into the other room to put away his jacket, she promptly returned and patted the worn seat of his favorite chair, insisting he make himself comfortable. He didn’t bother trying to help her pull the handle to release the leg extender. Surprisingly, he enjoyed watching her struggle with its weight.

She’d been acting like this for months. If he could’ve afforded it, he would’ve moved out the day she’d told him she’d slept with another man. But he didn’t have much money of his own, so he’d stayed.

Why, he wondered now, watching her flutter around him, had he been fighting her all this time? It boggled the mind. He should’ve been taking advantage of the situation! The guilt Janelle felt for sleeping with another man was eating her alive. Until he forgave her, she wasn’t going to stop. Whenever she’d tried to wait on him, he’d ignored her and walked away, but now he could see that he’d been a fool. If she wanted to treat him like a king, then so be it.

“Can I get you anything?”

“A tall glass of water. And did you say you cooked my favorite meal?”

Her eyes brightened like a child starved of affection. “Lasagna and garlic bread with lots of butter. We need to fatten you up. You’ve lost some weight.”

“Turn on the television before you see to my dinner,” he said, testing his power.

She quickly obliged, happily handing him the remote before hurrying to the kitchen.

He flicked through all the local news stations. Still no mention of Chris Porter. He’d done his best to cover up any signs of blood in the alleyway and air out the smell in the Nissan rental, but he still worried that someone might have seen him that night. What would he do if he was caught? The notion worried him, and yet nothing could override the excitement he felt whenever he thought of what he’d done. Madeline’s stalker was dead. Not only had he stopped the man, he’d gotten away with it. He had a sudden desire to celebrate.

As always, he’d listened to Madeline’s show every night since he’d killed the man. But Madeline had yet to tell her listeners that the stalker was no longer leaving her gifts. Maybe she wanted to be sure before she told her listeners that she was no longer being stalked. Unable to sit still, he knew he wouldn’t rest until he saw Madeline. He needed to see how she was doing. For the first time in months, she’d probably been able to let down her guard a bit as she got from point A to point B every day.

He grabbed his keys and his raincoat from the entry closet and headed out. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to Janelle. He wouldn’t be gone long. Besides, she would no doubt be happy to warm up his dinner later.

He hopped into his Honda, didn’t bother switching to the rental parked a few blocks away. No reason to do that. Madeline would be at work. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her when he saw her. Maybe he would explain to her that he was a devoted fan and how concerned he’d been about her recent troubles. Of course, he’d then ask her if there was anything he could do to help.

By the time he merged onto the highway, images of Madeline filled his mind. He often went to her website and stared longingly at her picture. Her thick red curls made a beautiful frame around her heart-shaped face. Those sensuous lips made his pulse race, but those big green eyes were his downfall, the feature that sucked him in and held him hostage. The thought of holding her close, her cheek brushing against his as she thanked him for what he’d done, left him breathless.

The blare of a horn snapped him to and he jerked the steering wheel to the right to get back into his original lane. With his heart lodged in his throat, he ignored the cars around him and forced himself to breathe as he regained control of himself.

Raindrops hit the windshield and it wasn’t long before his thoughts were back on Madeline.

He needed to be patient with her. Tonight he would merely introduce himself. Anything else would be considered icing on the cake, so to speak. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so ridiculously giddy. Depression had a way of hanging on to a person like an extra thirty pounds around the gut, pulling him down, down, down. Life shouldn’t be so difficult.

Although he knew he was being hasty in rushing off to her, he couldn’t help himself. He’d been dying to meet her for such a long time. He’d committed the ultimate sacrifice to protect her. He deserved this.

Ten minutes after he exited on Madison, he parked his car in front of a simple brick building. It was seven p.m. The rain pelted his windshield full force now. A flash of lightning sliced through the ominous gray sky.

He climbed out and scurried across the parking lot, surprised to see there was no security around as he pushed through the glass door. There was a waiting area to his left and a receptionist desk to his right, but nobody was there. He tried to open another door, the door he figured would probably take him straight to Madeline, but there was some sort of electronic key device needed for entry. Not certain of what to do next, he noticed the men’s room around the corner from the receptionist area. He would dry off, make himself presentable, and then have a seat and wait for someone to show up.

The waiting area consisted of a small couch, a few chairs, and a round glass coffee table littered with magazines. Footfalls sounded moments after he took a seat. The receptionist came around the corner. Before she spotted him, someone entered the building, bringing with him the cold, drizzly air. Seth wouldn’t have taken note of the man at all if he hadn’t handed the receptionist a package and announced that it was for Madeline Blair.

Of course, that piqued his interest.

The man’s appearance, everything from his well-fitted black trench coat to his Rolex, screamed money. He had parked his Mercedes in front of the entrance and left the engine running. The license plate: DLW ESQ. He was a lawyer—a tall, dashing lawyer with a thick head of hair and a deep masculine voice. Had Madeline called in a young, handsome lawyer to help with her stalker problem? No, that wouldn’t make sense.

Outside in the distance, he could see his Honda. Looking downward, he noticed his shoes needed polishing and there was a missing button on his coat. He suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

“Can I help you?”

He looked up. It was the receptionist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Mercedes drive off. “I-I’m looking for”—he fumbled around in his pockets, pretending to look for an address—“a school. I’m supposed to pick up my daughter. She’s taking a night class.”

“Oh, you must mean the Paul Mitchell School across the street.”

He came to his feet, forcing a smile and shaking his head as if he’d lost his mind. He approached the young woman’s desk, hoping to get a better look at the package. Madeline’s name was scribbled on top, but nothing else. “Yes, the Paul Mitchell School.” He pointed across the street. “That way?”

The desk plate on the counter told him her name was Cindy St. Louis. Cindy nodded. “Go back out on Madison and make a left at the light. It’s right there on the corner. You can’t miss it.”

He thanked her, stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then said, “Was that George Clooney who just left?”

She giggled. “No, but I wish. That was David Westlake, a friend of one of the radio personalities here at KXFO.”

“Ah,” he said. “Thanks for your help, Cindy.”

As he walked slowly back across the parking lot, oblivious of the rain as it dripped down his face and neck, soaking him to the bone, he cracked his knuckles, one at a time.
Pop. Pop. Pop.

By the time he was on the road again, he realized he’d been a fool to think Madeline might show interest in a guy like him. He wasn’t tall or distinguished. He was out of shape. He had nothing to offer her. But he loved her in a way he’d never loved anyone before. For now, he would have to be content to just watch after her. Some day he might find the courage to meet her face-to-face and say hello. A man could dream.