Page 1 of Shadows in Bloom

PROLOGUE

The scent of flowers overtakes me as I push the door open and step over the threshold. I suck in a breath at the onslaught—holding it, even as my lungs scream, desperate to contract. Needing more air than usual as I stare into the void of darkness before me.

The wind grazes my back as it swoops inward, prickling the skin of my arms. Something cold and hard builds at the base of my throat, and my eyes twitch against the desire to close, but I can’t quite manage it, even as I’m sightless.

My fingers tighten around my keys as I walk into the living room, where the fragrance is overwhelming. I reach down and feel around for the lamp I know is nearby. After flicking it on, I blink rapidly, adjusting to the sudden contrast.

As my vision flickers back in, my stomach sinks, twisting into a tight coil, throbbing to the beat of my heart.

My eyes scan over the endless bouquets of flowers littering the living room. Roses and tulips Peonies and sunflowers. Baby’s breath and daisies.

“What the fuck…” The words catch in my throat, no more than a raspy croak.

“I didn’t know your favorite,” a voice whispers from directly behind me. I suck in a breath, and every muscle in my body tenses, preparing to flee, when an arm wraps around my waist and yanks me back into a hard body.

“Don’t run,” he whispers in my ear. I swallow the bile that rushes up, my eyes pricking. My breathing is so loud, I can’t hear anything apart from the whistle of it through my mouth and the whoosh of my blood in my ears.

I feel so, so cold.

His fingers flex against my abdomen, unyielding and strong.

I slam my molars together to fight the quiver in my jaw, but it’s far too strong, as are the tears that slip down my cheeks—hot trails of fear and shame for breaking.

He brushes them away with his other hand, and I flinch away. He tsks, then wraps them around my chin, forcing my head back and around to face him. His eyes are dark. Bottomless, soulless, black pits as he stares into me. Through me. Like I’m nothing more than a body with blood and breath and bones to break.

And it’s that look in his eyes that makes me realize… my death will be my fault.

I didn’t do enough.

I threw every note away, ignored the feeling of being watched. Blocked the phone calls and deleted every whispered voicemail. The cops didn’t take it seriously, so I didn’t either.

But they were wrong.

I was wrong.

He… He is very much real.

“Fiona…”

I’ve never hated my name before, but I do now. The way it sounds on his lips disgusts me.

He mistakes my shudder for something good—the sick fuck. “I’m Lars, baby,” he breathes out slowly, and his breath hitches at the end. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long.” He sounds… contrite. It befuddles me, my throat tightening unexpectedly.

But then, he seems to shake himself out of it, reaffirming his hold. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. We can finally be together now.” He buries his nose in my hair and inhales deeply. I shudder, fighting against the urge to vomit, to expel the fear, the overwhelming disgust and rage. But he has me pinned—and I can’t see a way out of this.

He groans loudly, the deep vibration echoing throughout my body. “You smell so good, baby.” His stubble burns as he rubs his cheek against mine. My body convulses, curling inward as I throw up at our feet. I gag and retch, eyes watering for an entirely different reason. The smell is putrid as it wafts upward, but it’s better than the scent of those fucking flowers.

I glare down at my shoes, now splattered with bile. The carpet stained and ruined.

His arms tighten, keeping me pinned as I sag. “Feel better now?” And it’s the scrape of his chapped lips on my face that draws the fight out of me.

I buck, using his tight hold on me to pull my feet up. I slam them back down onto the floor as I jerk my head backward. “Fuck!” he bellows as my skull makes contact with his nose in a sickening crunch. His grip loosens, and I fall to the floor—right in my own sick. I hiss as the teeth of my keys sink into the flesh of my palm. But that sharp bite of pain sparks my adrenaline anew, and I scramble backward, chest heaving as the echoes of my own heartbeat surround me in pulsing, iridescent waves.

He stumbles, groaning loudly as blood pours down his face. His eyes are clenched shut, arms waving wildly as he grasps for balance.

The reality of his temporary blindness barrels into me, and I jump to my feet, tasting blood as I scramble around the couch. My eyes are zeroed in on the door, which seems to only get further and further away with every lurching step I take.

“Fiona!” he bellows, and my heart constricts, the burning edge of fear making it impossible to breathe. My pulse buries itself in my throat, and I try to pull on that tempo to get me through—to get me out.

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