The Obsession

By Carol Kravetz

Kindness is given freely and willingly. But when given to the wrong person, it can turn around and bite you. Detective Krista Cameron finds out the hard way that it doesn’t always pay to be nice. Especially when the recipient of her good intentions decides to repay her by telling her she belongs to him. He starts his obsession by bullying his way into her life, and won’t take no for an answer. Wrecking her husband’s car, ruining her home and causing physical harm to her friend are only the beginning to the obsession that will consume him, an obsession that won’t end until he has done what he has to do to get Krista as his own. Even when the obsession turns Krista’s life into a dangerous nightmare, he won’t stop. Not until she’s his.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9780244178222

Carol Kravetz

I was born and raised in Northern Ireland, near Belfast. I emigrated to Canada in my mid 20’s and while there, started writing. My daytime job was as a medical secretary to various health care professionals, but my spare time was dedicated to my writing. I lived in Canada for 12 years and during that time had almost completed seven novels in a series. After living at home for a year, I moved to the United States and continued my career as a medical secretary. My writing was shelved for just a little while during my time in the States but, since my return to Northern Ireland upon my husband’s retirement six years ago, I have been able to resume my hobby and complete the seventh novel. I currently work full time with the Education Authority and dedicate as much time as possible to my family and my writing.

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© Copyright Carol Kravetz March 2019

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

978-0-244-17822-2

Imprint: Lulu.com

THE OBSESSION

CHAPTER ONE

If there was any one event that Dave Andrews could change in his thirty years of life he would have no trouble picking out what would be. It would be the night he’d had a chance meeting with Terri, his ex-wife. The night that had, quite literally, changed his whole life and, subsequently, the life of his second wife, Cathy. That one chance meeting had sparked a chain reaction, a series of consequences that had gone from bad to worse to totally disastrous; a series of events that should climax today, with him sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting to be called through for his appointment.

He knew he only had himself to blame for being here during the second week of March 2019, just under six months after that random meeting with his ex-wife. No one had told him to have an affair with her; he had made the choice all by himself. And although the affair had been brief and not unsatisfying, nothing could excuse his behavior.

As he sat there waiting to be called he found himself reflecting, as he often did, on the affair. It wasn’t as if he’d still been in love with his ex; his feelings for her were the exact opposite of love. After catching her in bed with another man six months into their marriage, he had walked out and for the eleven years that followed between then and last October, he had built up a deep hatred of her, a hatred that had been born out of hurt and bitterness. How quickly he had forgotten about the hatred and traded it for an affair he hadn’t wanted to happen; an affair that had gotten him into the mess he was now in.

Annoyed at himself for having allowed uncommon self-pity, Dave peered through the frost-glazed window to the winter wonderland outside. What a harsh season it had been, one of the coldest the United States had on record. He recalled with wry amusement seeing pictures on social media of a child blowing bubbles, only to have the bubble freeze as soon as it came in contact with the frigid air and shatter on impact with the frozen ground. Practically every state in the union had been affected by the record cold, the ice, the snowfalls and bitter wind.

He shook his head in wry amusement when he saw it was snowing again. The temperature was still below normal and there seemed to be no sign of release from the icy grasp Massachusetts had been held in since before Christmas. Hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, he had grown up with a dry cold that was nothing like the damp cold of the east coast; a cold that chilled him to the bone and made him wonder if he’d ever get used to it.

Not that Dave regretted moving to the east coast. On the contrary. If he had remained in Nevada, he wouldn’t have decided to come to Bathville, Massachusetts, met his partner and best friend, Paul Cameron, or Paul’s wife Krista, or Cathy, who was Krista’s partner and best friend. They were the three favorite people in his world and, with his career as a detective in the Bathville Police Department, he was genuinely happy with his life.

It wasn’t easy knowing he had let them all down, each in a different way but all stemming directly from his affair. How or why any of them had forgiven him and taken him back as a worthy member of their family would forever remain a mystery to him.

He was eternally grateful to them and he didn’t need reminding that he was happy. The only dark side of his life, for now, was the reason why he was here today. He had followed doctor’s orders from the get-go, had done everything expected of him, including counting exactly twenty ejaculations, the final one which he had carried in a specimen jar into the office two days ago for the lab to check for sperm. He had been told the results were in and they should be delivered to him in person, which is why he was here.

Unaware that he was the subject of scrutiny from the receptionist, he glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. It was five thirty, his appointment had been for five and, being a naturally impatient man who hated being late for anything, his irritability at having been kept waiting nearly half-an-hour grew. The waiting room was empty of other patients and the patient before him had gone in nearly thirty minutes ago so, unless she was having a major organ transplant, what could she possibly be getting done that would take this long? With a sigh of irritation, he picked up a two month old copy of People magazine and started flicking through it.

The receptionist, who had worked for Doctor Matthews for exactly one week, sneaked another glance round the side of her monitor. She was twenty three, unmarried and on the prowl for a new love in her life. Although it was forbidden to date patients, eligible ones or not, it didn’t hurt to look and this particular patient was definitely worth looking at.

In short, Andrews, David Anthony, as his name stated on his chart, was gorgeous. He was tall, muscular but lean, and had the most incredible blue eyes, fringed heavily with long dark lashes. His hair was dark brown, bordering on black and, although currently tousled in no particular style, was thick and shiny and turned in crispy curls at his neck. He really was drop dead gorgeous and as she watched his fluidic movements as he leaned over to get a magazine and ease himself back on the chair, she imagined that with a body like that, he could only be an attentive, explosive, creative lover.

Her reverie was broken by the inter-office phone ringing and, after speaking briefly to the doctor, she hung up and reluctantly cleared her mind so she could adopt a professional tone. The departing patient was already standing at the side window waiting to make another appointment and the receptionist acknowledged her with a smile, then announced that Dave could now go through to examining room 2, second door on the left.

Suddenly apprehensive without knowing why, Dave rose slowly and walked hesitantly towards the designated room. This was it, he realized. This was when he could officially start Phase II of his intention to right everything he had wronged in his and Cathy’s life.. Assuming the results were what he was hoping for…

Fifteen minutes later, he left the office feeling a strange mixture of let-down, relief, and a renewed sense of purpose. He didn’t notice the icy blast assaulting him as he stepped outside, he barely acknowledged the rapidly falling snow. He was intent on getting home to Cathy to give her his news and share some quiet time with her.

When he let himself into their two bedroom, two story apartment twenty minutes later, he barely had time to stamp the snow off his shoes when Cathy appeared at the kitchen doorway. The delightful smells of what had to be dinner wafted out to meet him and his stomach cramped with hunger.

Hey baby, he greeted cheerily, peeling off his gloves, stuffed them in the pocket of his jacket, which he then took off and hung on the coat hanger. He absently threw his scarf over his coat and turned back to Cathy with a warm smile. The snow’s coming down thick and fast, he commented, giving her a brief kiss as he brushed past her on his way to the kitchen to see what he could nibble on. Glad we’re not going out tonight.

David! She said sharply, stopping him in his tracks. "Where have you been?"

He looked at her curiously, wondering why she sounded accusatory. One look into her cornflower blue eyes told him he was in some kind of trouble and, quickly sifting through his memory for a clue of a dinner date or an errand he should have run, he received the answer that there was nothing on the agenda. Then he remembered he hadn’t told her of his doctor’s appointment. He had chosen, for whatever reason he had thought to be right at the time, to keep it a secret. He relaxed somewhat, figuring he was mistaking her hostility for worry and he inwardly sighed.

In the two and a half months since they’d gotten back together after she kicked him out when she’d found he’d been having an affair, she’d been trying very hard to let her trust for him build naturally again. She hadn’t wanted to force it, she made sure she gave him his space and didn’t give him the third degree if he happened to be out of the house, or office, unexpectedly, especially for an extended period of time. She tried her best not to question him incessantly of his whereabouts but, sometimes, he caught her slipping him a sideways glance, as if she was carefully weighing his answer, making sure it wasn’t fabricated.

He loathed the fact that this was the way it was sometimes, but he made sure that if he had to be away from her, he would phone her as often as he could and give her a rough idea of when he would be home, or back at the precinct, or at Paul and Krista’s. He hadn’t expected her undying trust restored overnight but he had had no idea how difficult it was going to be for her.

He admired that she was strong enough, and confident enough in herself, that sometimes she took his absences without question, as naturally as she had since they’d first started going out together nearly two years ago. She did her best not to accuse him or remind him of his affair every five minutes. She always made a point of telling him he was free to do whatever he wanted, without having to report back to her to put her mind at rest. He hoped that soon he would have proven to her he was worthy of her trust again. None of which explained her attitude towards him right now. He saw she was looking at him wide-eyed, waiting for an answer. Look, Cathy -

I phoned the station at four thirty, she interrupted, and Paul told me you’d left already. And now it’s twenty past six, so where were you?

There was something very important I had to take care of, he answered evenly. There were times when her intentions of giving him a free reign didn’t happen and this was one of those times. He didn’t want to go on the defensive because that would be an accusation of guilt.

But I’ve been so worried! she exclaimed, unaware of what was going through his mind. The snowstorm started in earnest at four o’clock and when you didn’t arrive home I started to worry, thinking you’d been in an accident or something. They’re calling for ten inches to fall before the storm passes, half of it seems to have already fallen and Paul thought you were heading straight home. I called your cell phone and it kept going to voicemail. What was so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow when the storm will have passed?

Dave felt himself relaxing. She had been worried about him because of the bad weather and dangerous driving conditions, that was all. He should have known she would be, and he had turned his cell phone off in the doctor’s office, which he hadn’t turned back on yet, so, of course she had worried. I’ll tell you in a moment, baby, first of all, what’s for dinner? I’m absolutely starved.

Beef stew, she answered tersely, following him into the kitchen and watching as he lifted the lid off the saucepan simmering away on the stove top and helping himself to a piping hot spoonful of potato and carrot.

Sure you’ve made enough? he asked, pointing to the large saucepan that was at least three quarters full. Looks like there’s enough here to feed an army.

Paul and Krista were supposed to be coming round. I’d already made the stew when she phoned to say it wouldn’t be a good idea to go anywhere with the weather being the way it is. She lifted two bowls from the cupboard and set them on the place mats on the table. You want to eat now or are you going to tell me where you were?

He caught her cool tone and recognized it for what it was: I’m not really giving you a choice, tell me where you were. He hurriedly blew on another spoonful and hoped it would tide him over until he could eat properly. Okay, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m stalling. Dinner can wait, we need to talk.

Oh. She tilted her head at him and then nodded, fear flickering swiftly behind her eyes. She was about to gesture towards the living room when the landline started ringing and because she was right beside the phone, she answered it. Hi, Kris… yeah, he’s here, he got home about three minutes ago. Can I call you back later, chum? He and I need to talk about something…No, no, everything’s fine, I’ll call you later. She disconnected and looked at him expectantly. You were saying?

They didn’t move into the living room, instead, they sat facing one another at the kitchen table. He reached over and took her hands in his. First of all, I’m sorry I worried you. I was sort of preoccupied today and I should have phoned to let you know where I was, especially with the weather being so shitty.

What were you preoccupied about?

He looked at her for a very long moment. Cathy truly was a beautiful woman. She had long, naturally curly dark hair with streaks of auburn in it, a slim but curvy figure, petite stature, full sensuous lips and the most astonishing blue eyes. Her looks alone would attract any hot-blooded male but Dave had fallen in love with her wild and free spirit first, a spirit that was sometimes troubled and vulnerable but which was strong enough to see her through anything. He loved her so much, every single minute of every single day, and he sometimes had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming that this beautiful woman was his and his alone.

But as he looked at her now, he frowned slightly. She was dressed casually in black leggings, thick black socks and a long, cream colored sweater but the sweater didn’t hide the fact that she appeared to have lost even more weight since just two weeks ago. When he first met her, she had weighed approximately a hundred and fifteen pounds. Now he put her weight at about a hundred and five, give or take, and even with her petite figure she looked borderline skinny. Her face wasn’t gaunt, or her cheeks or eyes sunken into themselves, but she had definitely lost weight since before Christmas…since she had lost their baby.

He pushed himself away from the familiar pain of that memory and gently rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumbs. You eat much today, sweetie? he asked carefully.

She sighed impatiently. Yes. Toast, boiled eggs and a yogurt at breakfast, tuna sandwich, a tangelo and a chocolate chip cookie at lunch. I plan on having at least one bowl of stew, along with biscuits I have baking in the oven, so…satisfied?

Her first two meals hadn’t been a feast, but at least she’d eaten something, and done so sensibly: protein, dairy, carbohydrates and fruit. He nodded with a proud smile. Sounds good…Except for the yogurt, you can keep that one all for yourself.

She saw the crinkling of his eyes as his smile became more genuine and she looked at him expectantly. Okay, now that I’ve read you the menu for today, are you going to tell me what your errand was?

Sure. He released his hands from hers and sat back slightly so he could see her face better. I know I should have told you, Cathy, but, for some reason, I chose not to. And I really would have been home sooner, the bad roads notwithstanding, if I hadn’t had to wait nearly three quarters of an hour in the doctor’s office.

Doctor’s office? Are you sick? And then, almost as if he’d known she would, she raised her chin in realization as the penny dropped. Doctor Matthews, you mean? Is this the day…did you have to…what did he say?

In simple terms, based on the results from the sample I gave him two days ago, I’m now officially firing blanks.

Cathy’s eyes filled with tears and she looked moodily away. At first, he thought she wasn’t going to say anything, she looked like she wanted to bolt from the kitchen, but she stayed her ground, her lip trembling and tear drops trickling slowly down each cheek. I see, she said shakily. Are you…um…how do you feel?

He reached over to gently wipe away her tears. Honestly? Relieved. I can rest now knowing I’m not going to run the risk of getting you pregnant and therefore endangering your life.

She grabbed his wrist to stop him from touching her face but held tightly to his hand. It should have been me getting sterilized, not you, she said bitterly, "I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times, it should have been me."

No, my love. We’ve been over it, it’s done now. We can resume a normal, contraceptive free sex life again. Whenever you’re ready. And I’ll be happy knowing I have nothing to worry about. And if you’re more comfortable using condoms for another month or so, we can, it’s entirely up to you. He sat back again, carefully studying her expression. Although she had been waiting for this news since the vasectomy had been performed ten weeks ago, she still looked devastated and terribly unhappy - not to mention guilty - as if his new status as a sterilized male was all her fault.

In the six weeks since her doctor had pronounced her medically fit to resume a normal sex life again, she had tried to be as forthcoming as possible to him, making the right moves and sending the right signals when she thought them appropriate. But it hadn’t always been easy, sometimes the mental image of him having sex with another woman got in the way of an intimate interlude and their encounter would be over before it hardly got started. Sometimes, genuinely, her hormones, still muddled and spiteful and giving her unnecessary crying jags, got in the way too, and she didn’t exactly always feel like the sexiest creature alive. But to give her her due, she did try, and more often than not their unions had been beautiful and sweet and fulfilling.

She had to give him his dues too. He had been kind, and patient, and understanding and hadn’t pushed once when they’d started something she had been unwilling to finish. He had merely kissed her forehead and covered her up, then held her and told her he loved her. Every single time.

Remembering his selflessness, she forced herself to calm down. We, er, we maybe should use condoms for a couple of weeks, just in case, she said slowly. I want us to get back to a…er…normal sex life, I want us both to be relaxed and confidant and happy, but most of all, enjoying it. Lord knows we knew how to set each other alight before, I’m sure we can do it again.

Dave knew what she was trying to say and, because he wouldn’t allow himself to push, he merely nodded, but inside he could feel the first stirring of hope for their future together. She had been on an emotional rollercoaster since being attacked by a serial killer in their own home, just before Christmas 2018. The attack had brought on early labor in her 25th week of pregnancy and she was still coming to grips with the subsequent death of their baby girl, who had died at only two hours old. Her hormones were still all over the place but did seem to be calming down. You’re right, we sure did know the right buttons to push, I’m sure too we can do it again.

Then we’ll see how it goes. She kissed his fingertips, then slid out of her chair to rescue the biscuits before they burned.

CHAPTER TWO

The storm seemed like a dark, distant memory when the citizens of Bathville, Massachusetts awoke the next morning. Not only had the snow stopped but the sky was a deep, azure blue, the wind had abated considerably and it felt as if the temperature had risen ever so slightly. Icicles still hung like daggers from the eaves of buildings, so it still felt more like January than the middle of March and the most everyone could hope for was that this was the last snowfall for this season.

It was almost nine o’clock when Paul Cameron pulled his white Ford Mustang GT into a vacant parking spot at the 7th precinct of the Bathville Police Department, located in the south of the city. The sun glinted brilliantly off his honey blond hair when he stepped into the cool air and he looked up to the heavens, the blue of the sky matching his eyes exactly. He rested his six-foot-two frame against the front of his car and smiled when a familiar cherry red Nissan Sentra pulled up alongside him.

Out stepped a beauty with long, shiny dark hair, long-lashed almond shaped eyes the color of emeralds, perfect cheekbones,full, sensuous lips just begging to be kissed and long, slender legs below the shapeliest backside that had ever been poured into a pair of blue jeans.

Paul whistled long and slowly. Hey, lady, you got a light? he drawled in a pure-bred Brooklyn accent.

Chuckling, she leaned into him and gave him a hug as if she hadn’t seen him in ages. She had actually only seen him ten minutes ago at home, but she didn’t think he would mind the ferocity of the hug. In case no one ever told you, mister, you don’t smoke.

He smiled into the eyes of his bride of one week shy of a year. Who said I was talking about a light for a cigarette?

"Oh? Then what do you want me to light?"

Get into the back seat of my car and I’ll show you, he teased.

In broad daylight? Outside a police station? Either you’re insatiable or you’re just plain crazy.

Crazy for you, yes, insatiable when I’m with you, yes, so I guess I’m guilty on both counts. This time he wasn’t exactly joking. He had adored this woman from the very day he first set eyes on her. Her physical attributes aside, he had fallen instantly and hopelessly in love with her for her other qualities. She was funny, warm, kind, smart as a whip, level headed, good natured and had proved her worth as an excellent cop. She was sweet, even-tempered, diplomatic and completely unassuming about her stunning, incredible looks and, unlike so many beautiful people who had life made easy for them simply because of their looks, she was always approachable and treated everyone as an equal.

Their whole universe revolved around each other and, never wanting to tempt providence, they counted their blessings every single day for having been brought together. Their love for each other kept growing stronger and deeper; their sex life was energetic, inventive and plentiful and even out of the bedroom they were always kissing or touching or holding each other when they weren’t lost in each other’s gaze.

Paul himself wasn’t exactly lacking in the looks department but his clean cut handsomeness also had features that were full of character. His eyes were always shining in good humor, his smile rich and infectious, and here and there on his face and body there were tiny scars, the product of his rough upbringing in an abusive home in Brooklyn or fights from the hockey games he played for the local team. In the rink he was the female fans’ darling and before he met Krista he had never been short on women eagerly following him to his bed.

Krista, on the other hand, had been raised a Catholic in Northern Ireland and she had been, despite her classic beauty and countless past boyfriends, far less experienced between the sheets. But all that changed when she met Paul and her inner primal instincts weren’t long in making themselves known – much to the delight of both of them.

She linked hands with her husband and they strode into the old four-story building that was their place of work. The dingy decor the interesting accumulation of smells, the activity of desk sergeants and dispatch clerks or uniformed officers going about their business had long ceased to be of interest to either of them and they bounded up the flight of stairs to the second floor where their office was situated.

The main office, which housed most of the Detective Division of the 7th precinct, was empty save for one person, Jim Turner, who raised his arm in a brief, cursory wave to his friends before returning to his phone conversation. They returned the greeting and walked on past him to the smaller office they shared with Dave and Cathy, who were there and ready to give them a hard time for being late - which they were by over two hours.

"Your cars run out of gas again?" Dave asked dryly.

Paul had a lie all prepared and he sat down at his desk beside his best friend with an innocent smile. Don’t you ever listen to me, Big D? I had a dental appointment this morning and I told you about it like three times.

"Yeah? And what’s your excuse, Krista?"

Up until that moment, she’d had no idea what excuse Paul was going to come up with but it took her only a split second to join in his little game. He was afraid he was going to get a needle and being an extreme wuss when it comes to needles, I thought I’d better go with him and hold his hand to help him through it.

Cathy groaned and shook her head. That is easily the worst excuse you two have ever come up with. Neither one of you are exactly looking virginal right now. Just admit you were too busy doing the mattress mambo this morning and that’s why you were late for work.

Actually it was the shower salsa, Paul informed her, then the bathroom-floor bop and...

And enough, Paul, Krista interrupted cheerfully but with a slight warning look in her eyes. Their marriage and sex life may have been on steady ground but Dave and Cathy’s weren’t and, not that Paul had meant to be insensitive but sometimes he just forgot his friends’ situation. It was time to change the subject. I kind of… um… worked up an appetite this morning so I’m a wee bit famished. Think I’ll go down to the cafeteria and see if they have any donuts left. Anybody want anything?

Dave looked at Cathy, hoping she would say yes. Breakfast for her that morning had been a glass of orange juice, two bites of toast and half a cup of coffee. She should be starved by now but he saw her shake her head at the offer and his spirits sank. The previous evening, they had unpredictably stumbled into a new phase of getting their lives back to normal. They had talked through all the issues that were causing their problems, not the least of which was his worry at how thin she had become. He confessed his fears of her not eating properly and she, on seeing his genuine concern, had given him a firm promise she would start looking after herself better.

After they had talked everything out, to his total surprise, she had looked at him for a long, silent moment from the other end of the couch and then, suddenly, she had come over to him, straddled him, kissed him fervently, her groin grinding slowly against his, getting him hard in seconds as she shrugged out of her top, then her bra and presented her breasts to him. Their lovemaking was like old times, before his affair, before the baby, just as it had been when they’d got married, and he had held her against him afterwards, breathing in her scent, feeling her pulse slow, feeling her smile, and then she had murmured she loved him and he had felt his soul rise to the heavens.

The sex notwithstanding, after their talk, he’d felt a turning point had been made but after her refusal just now of a donut or some other treat, he realized some issues still had a long way to go.

With an inward sigh, he smiled up at Krista. Maybe a jelly donut would be nice.

Make that two, Paul chimed in.

No problem, gentlemen. Cath?

No thanks, chum. Cathy caught the look in Dave’s eye and, knowing what it meant, she hastily added, I’ll maybe take a share of Dave’s if he can’t eat all his. She was awarded with a grateful smile from him and she returned it with an awkward smile of her own.

Krista watched the little exchange and, knowing all about Dave’s constant battle with Cathy's eating habits, she intervened in her usual, diplomatic way. "I’m feeling pretty generous today so I think I’ll buy a selection of goodies we can all eat at our leisure." Taking a twenty dollar bill out of her purse, she stuffed it in her jeans back pocket and, leaving the office, went down the stairs to where the small but well-stocked cafeteria was located.

At this time of the morning, the cafeteria was usually nearly empty. Save for two uniformed police officers who were drinking coffee, the female cashier, a male attendant behind the food counter, and a young man mopping the floor, Krista was the only other patron.

The officers were finishing their break by the look of things and, as they passed her by, they greeted her by name, wished her a good day and left to start their tour of the streets. The attendant told her he was just going to the kitchen or a minute to check on something in the oven and she indicated she would peruse the baked goods section while he was gone. The cashier was counting the float in the till, oblivious to the fact that someone was standing at the counter.

There was a varied selection of treats. Krista knew Cathy loved Boston Cream donuts, as well as chocolate Danish, both of which were plentiful; there were also half a dozen jelly donuts, salted caramel muffins, red velvet cupcakes, brownies and apple turnovers. She groaned as she tried to make her choice, they all looked so good so she decided to get a dozen assorted and all she had to do now was wait for the attendant to come back.

A sickening thump and a loud crash behind her made her jump and, whirling round, she saw that the young man who had been mopping when she’d come in was now lying sprawled on the floor, on his back, his eyes closed and his face pinched in pain. He had apparently gone to the booth the two officers had just vacated, presumably to clear the cups and plates and wipe off the table, and it only took Krista a second to see the crash had been caused by two cups shattering on the floor, the dregs of the coffee splashed around the prone figure of the busboy.

Krista’s first career choice had been to be a doctor. She had gone as far as her second year of training before Cathy had coaxed her into joining her in the police.. Some people, at the scene of an accident, did nothing but gawp or ignore it in the hope it would go away but she wasn’t like that, it was always her first instinct to help, to jump right in and be of assistance and, seeing the young man still hadn’t moved, she ran to him to find out what was wrong.

CHAPTER THREE

There didn’t seem to be any sign the young man was going into an epileptic or some other form of seizure, nor was there any blood around his head or anywhere on his body. But he was definitely unconscious and had fallen flat on his back, which meant he could have banged the back of his head. Krista checked for a carotid pulse before determining whether she had to administer any type of first aid. His pulse was sure and strong, his breathing steady, so it didn’t look like he was going into any type of shock and he should come to soon.

He was wearing black jeans and an emerald green short-sleeved work jacket, the breast pocket of which had the wearer’s name embroidered in white letters. Not wanting to move him until he was awake and alert, she moved in close to his ear.

Chuck? she said sharply. Can you hear me?

After a few moments he moaned and his eyes flickered slowly open. Wh-What happened? he murmured, grimacing slightly.

Seems like you took a little tumble, she told him. Can you tell me how you feel?

He pushed himself up to a sitting position and immediately his face went ashen white. Jesus, my head hurts, he hissed.

I’m sure it does. Wait there. Don’t try to stand just yet. She ran behind the counter and, grabbing a clean cloth, she soaked it in cold water in the small, stainless steel sink, wrung it tight and went back to Chuck. He had a dazed look on his face, but otherwise seemed fine, definitely becoming more alert with each second that passed. She located a small bump on the back of his head and gently but firmly pressed the cold cloth to it and held it there while she talked to him. Can you tell me what happened?

Yeah, I think so… He looked around the floor and pointed to a skid mark near his feet. I'd just mopped here and I must have slipped on some water.

It looks like there’s no serious damage done, Chuck. She had checked the cloth and no blood had appeared on it but when she had been kneeling close beside him, she had become aware of an offensive odor emanating from him. It was a mixture of garlic, sweat and something she couldn’t identify and, unable to help herself, she grimaced, sidled away from him and tried not to gag. There now, she said with forced cheer. I think I’ve done about all I can do. Think you can stand? She instantly regretted her abruptness, the poor man was having a hard enough time just sitting, there was little chance he could stand on his own two feet yet. Breathing through her mouth was her only answer and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. Never mind, sit there for a bit and get your bearings. Can I get you a glass of water?

Charles Chuck Ericson was a strange looking individual, with an even stranger personality. He was about five ten, with a square, muscular frame, large hands and angular features. His hair was medium brown in an outdated, noughties style and heavy lidded eyes that were an eerie shade of light brown. Krista couldn’t help but think they were the eyes of a predatory cat, like a tiger or a leopard. It would have been wrong, and cruel, to call him downright ugly but there really was nothing about him that was pleasing to look at.

He had never known his father and could barely remember his mother. He had been brought up by his homely, maiden aunt who had surely never known the pleasures of the flesh, never mind how to have a fun time. She had looked after her nephew well, had fed him properly, given him clean clothes as he’d needed them, had made sure he did his schoolwork and had provided him with a warm bed and a roof over his head but she had an unhealthy appetite for fundamentalist religion and his childhood and early teens had been under her critical, pious eyes and overly strict code for living.

Not once had he been physically abused by her, not even given a minor spanking; any punishment for whatever misgiving he had done had always been in the form of horrific quotes from the Bible, quotes that warned him of brimstone and fire and the Prince of Darkness and they had scared him enough to retreat into himself anytime he saw the big black book with the gold-edged pages being wielded in front of him.

He did not know that God was a good and kind God too, a merciful and forgiving God, he only knew Him to be powerful and destructive and vengeful, the God the Sunday School teacher tried to tell him about every week and what he heard from his aunt on a daily basis.

His aunt forbade him joining any school activities that involved sport and his teen years through high school were passed in a lonely haze of reference books and Bible study and learning skills like woodwork, car mechanics, IT and anything else that would ensure him honest, hard work after his graduation. He was genuinely intelligent and quick to learn and he was also a natural when it came to working or building things with his hands.

In the eleventh grade he had fallen in with the wrong crowd. Within six months, after a fairly timid start of glue and solvent sniffing, cheap wine and cheap dope, shooting heroin and frying his brain with chemical substances and hard liquor. He stole from his aunt the money he needed to fuel his habits and, finally, when he was eighteen and had long since dropped out of school, he had beaten his aunt to within an inch of her life when he was in a crack-cocaine induced fit. His browbeating, religion-filled days with her were over.

It took the authorities nearly two years to track him down and, by that time, he was a hopeless junkie and alcoholic, with brain damage that included a paranoia that would never go away. The four year chemical binge had destroyed whatever chances he may have had to make good of his life and it was only by sheer luck that a rehabilitation center had helped him find his way in the world outside its clinical, sterile, drug and alcohol-free walls.

The rehabilitation center had found him this job and, although the work was menial and well below his abilities, he had seized the opportunity to take it because it gave him a steady, albeit low, income that provided him with an apartment, a rundown car and just enough money left over for food and the occasional joint.

It was a shame he had turned out the way he had. He was clever enough to be a doctor or a lawyer and capable enough to be an architect or engineer. Instead, because of his misspent youth, here he was at twenty six years of age, burned out and mopping floors, cleaning toilets, dusting desks and emptying other people’s garbage in the 7th precinct of the Bathville Police Department, all for a pittance and to keep up his end of the bargain with the authorities.

Although able to distinguish between right and wrong, most times he chose to do things the wrong way because he loved the thrill of shocking people and of living on the edge. He was also a control freak, and his obsessive disposition made him dangerous and, some would say, bordering on sociopathic.

It was considered by many unwise to get anywhere near him.

And today, he had just been shown his first ever act of kindness by another human being. Although the feeling was completely alien to him he found he liked being the object of concern and, struggling to clear his foggy senses, he wanted to find out who was responsible for showing him the attention.

Turning his aching, throbbing head to his left, he blinked to clear his vision and when he could focus properly, it was all he could do to contain a gasp of sheer pleasure at the sight of the exquisite creature kneeling next to him.

The first thing he noticed were her startling green eyes flecked with gold. Her creamy complexion caught his attention next, then her soft, pink-shaded sensuous lips, her flowing, silky almost-black hair then, finally, the alluring swell of her breasts. He also caught a hint of her scent, something flowery that he didn’t know the name of, but on her it smelled divine.

She was gorgeous, easily the most beautiful woman Chuck Ericson had ever seen in his life. And even more arresting, this exotic beauty was actually showing him concern and sympathy. He had surely died and gone to heaven.

He knew who she was, of course, he had seen her around the precinct countless times. But he had never seen her up this close before, nor had he ever smelled her intoxicating scent or felt the arousing pull of her mere presence.

All qualities combined, he knew he had to have her. And he wouldn’t rest until she was his.

Aware of the strange light in the young man’s eyes, Krista suddenly put up her guard and stepped away from him. You should maybe see your supervisor to fill out an accident report, then get him or her to take you to the hospital for an x-ray, she suggested tersely. Looks like that bump is growing and you might have a concussion.

The bump could have been the size of a watermelon for all Chuck cared and fighting away the pain and growing nausea, he carefully pushed himself up to his feet. I’ll text her in a moment, but, really, I’m fine, he said smoothly, trying to get her to make eye contact with him again. When she wouldn’t, he stuck his hand out for her to shake. Detective Cameron isn’t it?

It would have been terribly rude to refuse the handshake and since politeness and manners had been instilled in her from infancy, Krista had no choice but to honor the act. She shook his hand briefly and had to resist the urge to wipe her hand on the leg of her jeans to rid herself of his clammy, cloying touch. How she managed a faint smile afterwards she would never know, but she did know she had to get away from this overbearing man as quickly as possible. He was sending out not too subtle signals which left her feeling anything but comfortable.

Look, if you’re sure you’re going to be all right, I’ll let you make that text. I’d still advise a trip to the ER, just to be on the safe side.

At least let me buy you a coffee, he persisted smoothly.

That won’t be necessary but thank you anyway.

Oh come on, it’s just my way of saying thank you for helping me.

Really, there’s no need. Feeling more and more uncomfortable with each second that passed in his company, Krista looked frantically around for some form of salvation and got it when the attendant returned from wherever he had been. If nothing else, at least it meant she wasn’t alone with Chuck anymore.

Chuck didn’t give the attendant a fleeting glance, he was riveted only on the astonishing green eyes of the woman who had been kind to him. Surely a lot of men like him had fallen instantly under the spell of those eyes. Surely a lot of men wanted to possess every inch of her. The thought of her being with other men excited him and made him crazy with jealousy at the same time.

He couldn’t comprehend the speed of his feelings, but he did know he had to get her to see him as a potential romantic interest. So what if she was married to a cop who just happened to work in the same precinct? And so what if that same cop had a reputation for being a first-class fighter and a man who possessively guarded his wife? Chuck knew he could handle him. Easily.

You know, you’re very beautiful, he said in a conversational tone, as if he had all day to stand here and shoot the breeze with her. He folded his arms across his chest and half-closed his eyes in a pose he had been told by a crack head past girlfriend, was sexy. I’m sure you get told that all the time, I mean, look at you, but you are, you’re very beautiful.

Krista truly didn’t believe she was beautiful. She could admit she had been told by countless people, male and female alike, she was beautiful, but she was just so unassuming about her looks, having learned at a young age that beauty is only skin deep and can, like anything else, fade. Her parents had taught her to not rely on her looks, that there was more to her than a pretty face, that her brain was the most attractive, powerful attribute she would ever have and from an early age, she had listened to her parents and followed their advice. It had paid off too, to this day she still felt astonished, or shy, when someone told her how beautiful she was.

But not this time. Hearing the compliment coming from the pale, thin lips of this horrible man with nauseating halitosis, raised her hackles and at the same time it made her squirm in disgust.  Thank you, she said tersely. Now, if you’ll excuse me…

Undeterred, Chuck pressed on. Forget the offer of a coffee, pretty lady, let me take you out for a drink instead. Tonight. We can go to that new club down on Water Street. And later, go back to my place, he finished to himself.

Oh Christ, she thought, he’s actually asking me out on a date! Despite the fact she and Paul had been joined at the hip from the very day she had come to the United States two years earlier, some men still insisted on hitting on her. Usually they backed off when Paul made his presence known, or, if she was on her own, she would let them down gently. But sometimes she wasn’t sure how to be diplomatic and the last thing she wanted was to be rude. However, this time…

I can’t, sorry, I’m busy. And I really do have to get going.

Busy doing what? he persisted.

Spending time with my husband. You know him?

Sure, Paul Cameron. If you won’t tell him, I won’t. It’s only going to be a drink…and if it works out…we can have another drink tomorrow night…and the next. It will be nothing but an innocent drink…unless you want it to be more.

Krista balked in disbelief at what she was hearing. She took a couple of steps away from him, her hand raised, palm outwards in a back off gesture. I’m not in the habit of going out with anyone other than my husband, she said curtly. Certainly not for a casual drink and certainly not behind his back. I’m sorry you hurt your head but since you’re obviously quite lucid, I know I can leave you to sort yourself out. You no longer need me. With that, she abruptly turned away and strode over to the counter to complete the small errand that had brought her to the cafeteria. A few minutes later, the sweet treats in hand, she walked out without so much as a second glance at the overpowering, manipulative man she had merely tried to help in a time of crisis.

Chuck watched her every move from the spot where she had left him. He was totally taken by her body, her sensuous lips, the subtle swing of her almost-ebony hair that hung below her shoulder blades, her movements, everything about her screamed at him. He had to have her and he carefully committed every detail to memory.

She would be his. That was all he knew. One day, she would belong to him. Of that he had no doubt.

CHAPTER FOUR

Krista seethed the whole way back to the office but as soon as she walked through the door, and saw Paul sitting quietly at his desk, frowning in concentration at something on the computer, her temper