Fatal Obsession (Black Widow Book 2) (4 page)

Clenching his fists at his side Damien stared at them and admitted; whether or not she was VS, she wasn’t his anymore. That hurt more than he ever thought possible.

Could it be that he really had fallen for VS? Did he really love her? Was love what drove him to find her all these years, or was it just his obsession to protect her? Either way, he needed to leave, he couldn’t stay here being haunted by her face and not be able to touch or kiss her like he wanted to.

“I need to leave,” he blurted out, turning around the room and looking for his travel bag.

“Damien, you don’t have to.”

He heard the worry in Dale’s voice and turned to them. They were still clutched in each other’s arms and he knew for sure he needed to leave or Ellsa wouldn’t be the only relative who went psycho.

“Where is my bag?”

“Still in the car,” Dale answered, disentangling himself from Ellie.

“Good, drop me off at the train station. I need to leave, I need to—”
Find VS.
He hoped that she was still out there because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to handle it if Ellie was lying about who she really was.

“Damien, listen. If Ellsa is your Victoria Secret, then nothing has changed except that we’re looking for the same woman now. We need to find her for all our sakes and soon.”

Damien scoffed. “There is no way finding her would benefit me. I’ve wasted enough time, I need—”

“To find VS,” Dale finished, “What if Ellsa is VS? You need to find out and once we find her, you can decide what to do next. You need to put this obsession to rest, Damien, it’s ruining you. You need to go back to your normal life, to who you used to be before VS happened to you.”

To go back to his normal life? To his only concern being himself? He couldn’t remember what that was like. VS had commanded everything in his life for the last five years. It had been all about her. He stared at Ellie for a long while. Her eyelashes were wet with tears, dread etched in her face, her arms wrapped around herself. If VS was psycho Ellsa, yeah it was about time he put her hold on his life to rest.

****

Ellsa sat at the bar, licking her wounds with the help of a few tequilas after getting thrown out of her sister’s home. This person wasn’t her. She didn’t go to dingy places, drink cheap liquor and feel sorry for herself. She was better than this and yet she couldn’t help but wallow in the gutter.

How dare they humiliate her like that? And worst of all, in front of Kris and Audrey? Ellie might be her sister, but she was going to regret what she did. And Carson, he had no idea what he’d just started.

She drove so far just to get away from the humiliation. She didn’t even know the name of the stupid town.

A man sat on the stool next to her, ogling at her like he was seeing a woman for the first time. “Hi honey, how you doing tonight?”

“Get away from me,” Ellsa uttered with disgust.

He held a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “What’s wrong? I was just trying to be nice.”

Ellsa pulled away. “Don’t touch me.”

The man sneered. “What, you think you are so special?”

“Yes, I am. The hands that touch me earn a million dollars as an annual income. How much do you make a month, or should I have said a day?”

The man got right into her face. “You are a high priced whore! It doesn’t change the fact that you sell your body for money. How much do you earn a day?”

“Do I look like a prostitute to you?”

He winked at her. “I saw what you have under that coat. Trust me; I’m going to be worth your while. It will be so good, you’ll be paying me.”

Ellsa slapped him across the face and threw the tequila in his eyes. “Touch me again and I’ll kill you!”

He grabbed her and roughly pulled her off the stool. “You little bitch!” he hissed. “I’m going to teach you a lesson!” He dragged her out into the alley and pinned her against the wall. He felt her up as she struggled to push him off her.

She stopped fighting when something in her mind clicked. “Okay! I’ll do what you want. You don’t have to force yourself on me.”

The man looked at her with a glimmer in his eye. “You are not going to run, or blind me with your pepper spray?”

She tilted her head and looked at him. She then ran her fingers over his lips. “Of course not. I’m going to do you a favor.”

The man moaned, closing his eyes. “What?”

“Stop your life from getting even more pathetic.”

“Please do.”

Ellsa pushed him down a few inches to reach his ear, one hand on his chin the other stroking the back of his neck. “You asked for it,” she whispered. And with one swift quick move, she snapped his neck. The man’s body fell to the ground with a loud thud.

****

She startled awake, vaulting to a sitting position, gasping for air. She’d been having these nightmares for months, waking up in cold sweats and looking around her surroundings in sheer panic. Before, the images were hazy, sometimes just voices in the darkness, but this one, she stared right into the man’s face before he died and that scared her. She’d never seen the woman’s face, but… with this new development… did it mean that
she
was the murderous woman?

She took the already wet sheet and wiped away the streams of sweat running down her face from her forehead. Her nightgown clung to her perspiring body. This had truly been a bad one to make her look like someone had thrown water at her whilst she was in bed.

Her mind was plagued by the same questions again. Who were those people and why did they plague her sleep? Who is Ellsa and why does she hate these people so much?

She should tell Tom, but no, she couldn’t. She didn’t have it in her for another fight this early in the morning. The lurid dream had drained her. The first time she’d told her husband about them, he’d been concerned and so sweet about it. Then as the months went by and the nightmares came periodically, but more vivid than the one before, he just seemed to get more annoyed and angrier with each one. She thought it was his bruised ego that made him such a bear—a psychologist who couldn’t help his own wife. But now she didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. His erratic mood swings were getting on her last nerve.

Still shaking from the ordeal, she slowly placed her feet on the carpeted floor and reached for her dressing gown. She jumped when she heard something crash and break, then sighed tiredly when the shouts soon followed.

Could they not for one morning have breakfast without it turning into a shouting match? She debated on whether or not she should just stay in her room until the front door banged, signaling Tom’s departure. It was easier than trying to play referee.

“You’re not my daddy!”

Time to get up.

She quickly shrugged on her dressing gown and ran out of the room and down the steps as she tied the belt around her waist. She found them in the kitchen yelling at each other, milk, cereal and a broken bowl sat between them at their feet. It was a good thing she’d put on her house sandals on her way out of her room. She rushed to DJ and picked him up off the floor, placing him on her hip before she began checking his bare feet for cuts.

“Tom, the least you could have done, was move him away from the broken bowl before you began your shouting match. He could have cut his foot.”

He scoffed, throwing his hands up, “Of course you’re going to take his side, you always do!”

She refrained from rolling her eyes and telling him how ridiculous he sounded. As silly as he looked: a forty-three-year-old man having a shouting match with a five-year-old boy. Hell, he was worse than DJ!

She grabbed her son’s chin and turned his head to face her. “You okay? Did you get hurt?”

He tried to turn his head to keep glaring at Tom, but she held onto his chin firmly.

“No,” he grumbled. “Why does Mr. Tanner always pick on me, Momma?”

Stealing a side glance at Tom and watching his face gain a deeper shade of red as his ire increased, she wondered the same thing. How she wished she knew.

“Maybe because you call him Mr. Tanner instead of Daddy,” she chastised gently.

His brows furrowed and his lips took a harsh line. Like every time she stared into her son’s little face, she was hit with a sense of familiarity, but as always, she could never put her finger on it.

“Because he’s not my daddy. You don’t remember, but I do—”

“Tasha,” Tom interrupted harshly only for DJ to scream over his next words—“That’s not her name!”

Tasha caressed his cheek, holding him tighter against her when she felt his little body shake. “Hey kiddo, what’s the matter?”

He glared at Tom and Tom glared back.
What the hell was going on?

“Do you want us to have that talk again?” Tom hissed through clenched teeth.

Stunned, Tasha stared at him.
Did he just threaten my son?

DJ flinched as if he’d been hit then quickly wrapped his arms tightly around Tasha’s neck as he vigorously shook his head. She had to tug lightly on his arm to loosen the hold.

“Good,” he nodded smugly. He smoothed back his dark blond hair before reaching for his jacket and briefcase from the chair. “I’m off to work. Tasha, you need to learn how to home school him.”

“What? Why? He loves going to school, probably the only kid who does! Is this some sort of punishment for challenging you?” she exclaimed, barely containing her anger.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Take it however you want to, I don’t care. He’s not going back. His IQ is attracting too much unwanted attention.” With that, he sauntered out of the kitchen, the front door echoing his departure.

Tasha soothingly rubbed DJ’s back. “Don’t listen to him, honey. You’re going to school and you are going to have fun learning all those new things—well, learning them again.”

She heard him sniff against her neck. It broke her heart knowing whatever threat was in Tom’s last words to him made him so scared he cried. Why couldn’t they just get along? What was so different this year than the other four?

These were the moments when she cursed that stupid accident that caused her amnesia.

DJ wiggled in her arms. “You can put me down now. I wanna go to my room and learn my triangles.”

Tasha smiled. Only her son would do fifth-grade algebra for fun. But it saddened her how dejected he sounded. She carried him to the staircase and placed him down on the bottom step.

“Alright, but I don’t know how long you’ll be able to work on your triangles. You’re leaving for school in half an hour.”

He frowned, his brows drawing together. “But Mr. Tanner said—”

She waved his concern away. “You’re going because your mommy said so and I’m the boss of you.”

His lips parted in the brightest smile that reached his brown eyes, making them sparkle. Again, so very familiar.

“Thanks, Momma!” he cheered, wrapping his arms around her neck and hugging her tight. She was glad the accident didn’t take this away from her. This feeling of love and accomplishment every time she made him smile. “I promise I won’t ask too many questions. I’ll help everyone else instead. Did you know there is a way of teaching math to active five-year-olds? I don’t know why Miss Blakely hasn’t found that out yet. She’s been teaching for a decade.”

Tasha rolled her lips in her mouth to hide her amusement. He says a decade when other kids would either hold up their ten fingers and say ‘this many’ or just say ten. Yup, she was proud of being the mother of a genius.

“Good thing you looked it up. Now you can help her.”

He nodded seriously. “You’re right Momma. As always. I’ll go get ready for school.” He turned around and ran up the stairs.

Tasha watched him until he disappeared. Then she sat down and let the worry consume her like it always did. Waking up from a coma with amnesia to find out she had a husband and a son had been scary. Realizing that said husband and son couldn’t stand each other was scarier. Especially when DJ insisted Tom wasn’t his father and Tom didn’t bother to correct him despite always assuring her that he was DJ’s father. Tom was exhausted of trying to explain to him how a white man could biologically have a black son. But what scared her the most was finding out her son had tested in the highs of a hundred and fifty-five and now they had to hide him because… she paused at that.

Why did they have to hide that?

She wasn’t embarrassed about her son’s high IQ. She was proud of that fact. But Tom wasn’t which was bizarre! The man had close to ten diplomas hanging on his wall attesting to how he valued knowledge—oh That’s right; DJ’s IQ was higher than his. So that’s why he had to stay a secret? The father didn’t want to be outshined by the son. Was he truly embarrassed that DJ was smarter than him? She snorted.
Of all the conceited things!

Well, it was about time she put that man straight on a few things. He might have been her guide those months she was learning to get back into the swing of things, but it was time she made her presence felt. She’d managed to be a mother again with no memory and everything else had come back to her naturally and she was finally content with making new memories. But to say the truth, she was beginning to wonder why and how she got into that car crash and everything that led to it.

“Tom, today you’re going to give me the answers to all my questions. You’re not going to dismiss me today.” She marched back to the kitchen, grabbed a rag and went down on her knees to clean the breakfast mess.

Chapter Three

Damien sat on the bed in Dale’s downstairs guestroom. He had a feeling there was a reason as to why he was downstairs and not upstairs in the only other available guestroom. Hell, he didn’t blame Dale for not trusting him near his family. He had gone a little loco the day before. But seeing how the Carson family interacted with each other seared a hole through his chest. It was beautiful to see, but it made him feel even lonelier. Even little Third made his presence known. All that laughter, happiness and comical conversation, it made him want Victoria Secret even more. He’d quickly excused himself before he jumped on Ellie again.