Page 129 of Bloom: Part 2

“Everything all right here?” Grimm’s voice pulled me back to the moment. His sharp gaze flicked between me and Uncle Mickey.

I stared at my uncle, my heart pounding, every instinct telling me to press him harder.What if I was wrong?But what if I wasn’t? What if trusting him had been the mistake that cost me the one person I couldn’t bear to lose?

My throat tightened as the panic surged again, raw and unrelenting.Where are you, Bloom?The words repeated in mymind, an agonizing mantra. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to focus on the only thing that mattered.

“I need to find him.” The words slipped out hoarse, barely audible. My hands shook as I pushed past them, my vision narrowing to the men dispersing into the night.I’ll tear this town apart if I have to.

Because the thought of a world without Bloom? That was a world I wasn’t ready to face.

“Bay’s checking the security feed now. Let’s go inside. We have a system. If anyone finds him, they’ll alert us.”

I half expected my uncle to come up with a reason not to go with us. An excuse so he could disappear, but he fell into step beside us. His presence was both a comfort and a terror as I questioned his true loyalty.

Grimm led us to the control room, a small, cluttered space with monitors and equipment humming softly, the glow of the screens casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air was thick, almost suffocating. Bay was already seated, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he rewound the footage with practiced precision.

The rest of us gathered around him, the tension in the room palpable. My chest felt tight, my breaths shallow as I leaned against the desk, my eyes fixed on the screen. Each frame felt like an eternity, the seconds ticking backward toward the moment I dreaded seeing.

“There,” Bay said, his voice low but urgent. “That’s them.”

The screen flickered, showing Bloom and Max sitting on the steps, their bodies illuminated by the faint light spilling from the doorway. My heart twisted at the sight of Bloom. His movements, his posture, the way his hands gestured as he talked—it was all him. He was alive. At least, he had been then.

On the screen, Bloom reached into his jacket, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Max. They exchanged a few words.The next frame showed the impact—Max jerked violently, clutching his chest and collapsing onto the ground. Blood darkened his shirt, stark even in the monochrome footage. Bloom seemed unharmed. He reached for Max.

“Keep going,” Grimm urged, his voice low and strained.

The camera caught a figure stepping into the clearing, their body partially obscured by shadows. My breath hitched as I saw the gun in their hand, aimed steadily at Bloom.

Nononono.

Bloom stood, his posture rigid, and walked toward the man. His head turned slightly, his lips moving as though he were speaking. The man lifted the gun, motioning for him to move forward. My pulse thundered in my ears as Bloom obeyed, coming into the frame fully, his hands at his sides.

And then the man turned his head, just enough for the camera to catch his profile. Bay hit the Pause button, freezing the frame. Sweat prickled my skin as I stared at the familiar face.

“Son of a bitch.” I gripped the edge of the desk so hard my knuckles turned white.

“Isn’t that Bloom’s psychiatrist?” Bay asked.

“Dr. Simms. Yeah, that’s him.”

The room fell into stunned silence, the only sound the faint hum of the monitors. The face on the screen—the man who had shot Max and taken Bloom—was unmistakable.

My uncle wasn’t behind this. Relief washed over me. Was it possible I’d judged the situation wrong and my family hadn’t been behind the attempts on my life? Had it been Dr. Simms all along trying to get rid of me so he could have Bloom to himself? If he’d shot Max just to take Bloom, he was capable of anything.

And I pushed Bloom to resume their sessions.

“What the hell does he want with Bloom?” Grimm asked.

“He’s obsessed with him or something. I found out today he made a pass at Bloom.”

“But this is extreme for liking someone. Isn’t it?”

“We can figure out the true motive after. We know who’s behind it. Now all we have to do is find him. Bay, continue playing the video. Maybe we can see his vehicle or something.”

“Right.” Bay tapped the keyboard, resuming the video. The screen flickered back to life, showing Dr. Simms motioning for Bloom to follow. They disappeared from sight for a moment, and my heart squeezed in my chest. But then they emerged again, Bloom’s arms tied behind his back, and walked toward a dark SUV. Dr. Simms opened the backdoor, gesturing for Bloom to get inside, the gun still trained on Bloom.

At least he’s alive.

I had to comfort myself with that thought. We had time to find him. Dr. Simms didn’t seem keen on hurting him, which gave us time to find him.

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