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“My pleasure. I’ll let Greyson know you’ve arrived.”
I nod, feeling the possessive reach of Grey even from across the city.
Rami and I get out, closing the car door behind us.
“Do you wanna cup of tea?” I ask, gesturing towards the house as Stanley drives off.
“Nah, I’ve been civilized enough for one day.”
As we say our goodbyes and give each other the usual bear hugs, I open the gate and head along the weathered concrete slabs that lead around the side of the house.
Indigo…
At the sound of my name uttered by some ghost in my head, I stop in my tracks, my mouth suddenly dry.
I take a step, and then another, turning the corner only to come to a halt at the sight of something on the slab in front of me.
A black stain.
A footprint, and then another, and more, all leading back towards the gate.
No.
My legs begin to shake as my gaze pans forwards, tracking each step until I see my door, the concrete around it covered in black.
Indigo…
I spin on my heels, glancing all around, through the hedge, at the driveway, over at the windows of the houses nearby.
Nothing.
My breathing grows ragged as I take a step off the path onto the weed-strewn grass, my unwilling legs tentatively walking me towards the door to the stampede of my heart and the whoosh of blood through my ears.
“A crow,” I mutter, realizing that I said the word aloud as I take in the mangled, macerated carcass of a bird nestled in the black paint on the step of my door, the thing looking as if it was chewed up by some wild animal.
Upon a further step, my legs turn to nothing at the sight of the large boot print stamped onto the paint, matte in part, glistening in others, that must have been thrown onto the door, leaving a thin jagged fissure down the center of the wood.
The sound of a message beeping on my phone has my shuddering hand reaching into my purse.
Grey…
Only it’s not him.
It’s a private number.
The words sear themselves into me, turning everything to black.
Welcome back, wildflower.
I spin, almost screaming at the sound of a crow cawing nearby and the fear that I’m being watched. I peer all around as my trembling hand reaches for the phone in my purse, my fingers by some miracle finding the call button.
“Miss me already?”
“Rami…”
I know by the gravity of her tone that she knows in an instant something is wrong. “What is it?”
“Can you come back here? I need help.”
