Adrenaline sloshed through my veins, bleeding out and draining free and leaving me gasping.
Visions rushed.
Taking me to another time. Another place.
Fast flickers of a nightmare that I would forever relive.
Frantic, desperate.
Lana on her knees.
The glint of silver.
A deafening ring.
Blood.
Blood.
So much blood.
I choked on the memory. The man in my gallery. Backing us into the corner. Pulling the trigger while I’d had to watch hopelessly.
I staggered backward while the dirtbag bent in two, struggling to get his breath.
Flight kicked in.
The desperate need to flee.
Hide.
Remove myself from the situation.
I raced upstairs, the torn skirt of my dress clutched in my trembling hands, holding it up so I wouldn’t trip on the long white fabric. The second I hit the landing, I ran to the right, my high heels clicking on the wooden floor as I raced down the hall.
I bypassed the room I’d been staying in for the last three weeks and, instead, I rushed all the way to the end of the corridor where a second set of stairs led to the top floor.
It called to me like a beacon. Like safety was written in red, glaring lights.
Hand clinging to the railing, I fumbled up the steps to the third floor, and a harsh breath of relief gushed from my lungs when I caught sight of the closed double doors on the right.
I burst through them like my life depended on it.
I slammed the doors shut behind me and whirled around so I could lock them.
Hands shaking.
Spirit manic.
Nothing quite cooperating.
Metal scraped as the lock finally engaged, the sound of it like a gunshot reverberating through the dark, vacant room. I dropped my head to the ornate wood, hot air jerking in and out of my lungs as I tried to steady myself after the altercation.
Never before had I considered myself weak.
And now all it took was a jerk getting handsy and I was falling apart.
I should march back downstairs and tell my brother. Make a statement. Make him pay.
And the only thing I wanted to do?
Hide.
Remain concealed and protected behind the thick, solid doors.
Here, where the music was muted, nothing but a dull vibration that rumbled underfoot.
Voices distant.
It gave the illusion that I’d risen above it all.
Besides, the last thing I wanted was for my brother to get arrested for murder tonight.
Tomorrow I’d tell him. When enough time had passed. When rash, imprudent reactions were less likely to be made.
For tonight, I’d wait here.
When my heaving breaths began to slow, I finally peeled myself from the door and swiveled around to face the duskiness of the room.
The massive library that Lyrik had attempted to turn into an art studio.
It was where my spirit had immediately been called to in turmoil, as if it heard the melody of this place, even though it no longer knew how to sing.
Like all the beauty had been ripped from it that horrible night.
I had no idea if I would ever get it back.
My eyes scanned the lapping shadows of the rambling space.
A muted sheen of silvery moonlight flooded through the huge circular window that was made of white and black translucent stained glass. It faced out upon the front of the luxurious home, distorted the view in a gorgeous sheen of sparkling crystal and cast the rich, plush furniture and tapestries in shadows.
The floors were covered in thick, woven rugs.
Shelves of books lined the towering walls, all the way to the severe pitch of the cathedral ceiling.
My gaze moved to the far corner.
Drawn to where easels of partially-painted pictures stood like half-bared secrets.
The obscured faces painted on the canvases veiled in mystery.
Blowing out a haggard breath, I eased deeper into the room, and I let my fingertips gently flutter over a picture.
The man’s face misshapen.
Haunted eyes stared out into the nothingness.
I moved to the next, stood at where the small child crouched at the edge of a gurgling stream, staring at her reflection in the glistening water, her angelic face contorted.
Sadness crested and rose, crashing like a tsunami of broken dreams.
Hopes shattered in one careless, senseless act.
I traced my fingertips over the image, wishing it could somehow seep into my soul, breathe its life back into me.
I thought I felt a flicker of it.
Energy.
A depth that had been missing that billowed and blew. A soft whisper that breezed through the room.
Chills flashed, and the fine hairs on my arms and neck lifted in a whoosh of awareness.
I froze, throat closing off as that sensation twisted and cut into me with a stab of fear. As I realized I was not alone.
Ever so slowly, I shifted around.
One-part terror.
One-part curiosity.
My eyes narrowed as I struggled to peer farther into the hushed shadows at the far end of the room where I felt the crash of energy emanating from.
A brewing of intensity.
My heart shivered in my chest as a dark figure sitting on an oversized chair slowly came into view.
At the sight of him, a scream gurgled in my throat, though it got locked in the barbs of tightness.
My stomach twisted into a thousand knots.
I should run. No doubt. Just get the hell out of there and pretend like I hadn’t even noticed a man lurking in the far corner.
But I was frozen.
Slammed by another bolt of that severity.
Bound by shockwave after shockwave of energy that surged and rocked, gluing my feet to the ground.
He just sat there, not making a move, eyes clearly watching me even though I couldn’t make them out through the darkness.
“Oh my god, you scared me,” I finally managed to force out. My gaze darted to the door, searching for the closest emergency exit and not knowing whether I should use it or not.
Oh, I should.
I knew I should.
But I just stood there, robbed of the sense of flight, stammering, “Wh-wha-what are you doing in here?” at the faceless silhouette.
The outline of him was nothing but wide shoulders and hard body, legs stretched out in front of him so casually.
Like he couldn’t feel that his presence was singlehandedly tilting the earth on its side.
The man emitting his own gravity.
He barely shifted, the rocks glass he rested on the arm of the chair glinting in a ray of light as he rolled the base in a slow circle.
“Seems to me the exact same thing as you.” His voice was gravel, controlled with a razor-sharp edge.
Intrigue billowed, wrapping me in bindings.
I’d always considered myself decently intelligent. Graduated salutatorian of my high school class. Earned a full ride scholarship even though finishing my degree had been rough considering my circumstances, but I had done it and I’d done it well.
Had started my own business.
And there I was, struck dumb.
Senseless.
Fascination taking me over like it was the only wisdom I knew.
“What’s that?” I asked instead of rushing out the door where my common sense had clearly already fled without me.
“Hiding.” The word was a deep drone. He sat forward. The air stirred. I sucked in a breath as heat gathered in the atmosphere and covered my flesh in a flashfire of anticipation.
What the hell?
“Though I doubt we’re doin’ it for the same reasons,” he said.