Page 19 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)

THE WARNING

Maggie

My god this man’s fine!

I waited to hear the door latch before I started fanning myself. I had access to pages of him—barely dressed, nothing but handcuffs and a pistol held strategically over his groin. As if that did a damn thing to hide what was clearly a big, thick cock to match his big, thick everything .

Fuck—

Another flush of heat burned through me as I imagined flipping through the calendar, taking in his tattooed arms, tight ass, cut abs… and that trail of hair leading south like a damn invitation.

I was no better than a man. I wanted to objectify him—wanted to ruin him with my thoughts alone.

Teehee! I couldn’t fucking wait.

A tiny mew yanked me back to reality. Chester sat on the kitchen step, head cocked like he was filing my sins to report back to Mom.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry.”

He galloped toward me, his stubby legs pumping like a freight train. I scooped him into my arms, his fur warm against my skin.

“What happened today, huh? Did you see who hurt that man?” I asked, scratching behind his ears.

Our reunion was short-lived. A creak echoed above us, slow and calculated. A shiver climbed my spine. I set Chester down and grabbed the glass bottle of mineral water from the grocery bag—because clearly, hydration was going to save me now.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs and called out, “The police are outside, so don’t try anything funny.” My voice wobbled, even as I tried to fake courage.

Two thuds—like something heavy had landed and bounced—then the sharp crash of shattering glass.

Time slowed to a crawl. Every creak, every breath—even my heartbeat—pounded through me like a warning. I climbed the stairs blind, senses screaming.

The air turned arctic. My breath misted in front of me like a warning signal I didn’t know how to read.

I hugged my cardigan tighter—not that it helped. A sundress and flip-flops weren’t exactly arctic survival gear. I flipped on the light to the right—the bedroom.

No one was there.

But any relief I felt snapped in half when I saw the room.

Glass glittered across the wood floor like fallen stars beneath the swaying chandelier. It looked like a tornado had blown through—violent, chaotic, and cold. The room was empty. Except for the mess. And the chill that clung to everything.

What the actual fuck is going on?

“Maggie?!” Graham’s voice boomed up the stairs. “You good?”

“I’m up here!” My voice cracked like a teenage boy. So much for playing it cool.

His boots thundered up the stairs. Then Graham burst through the door, gun raised, eyes sharp and sweeping the room.

“You okay?” he asked, scanning like he expected something to jump out swinging.

“I’m fine—just… confused,” I said. “Didn’t you already clear everything?”

“I did.” He lowered his gun, eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

“I don’t know exactly.” I said. “I heard something—like someone walking. Then a crash. Then glass.”

He moved to the window and squinted into the dark, checking the roof and the yard for intruders. “If someone jumped, I would have seen it. They’d have landed in your driveway—and probably busted an ankle at least.”

His voice was calm and steady.

Mine? Not so much. I couldn’t shake the image of someone still hiding—waiting for me.

Graham’s eyes flicked to my shaking hands.

Busted.

“Stay put. Lock the door behind me,” he said, already halfway in the hall. “It’ll be alright. I’m gonna take another sweep of the house.”

“Okay,” I whispered, scooping Chester up from where he huddled by Graham’s boots.

He was shaking just as bad as I was. I held him close and tried not to fall apart.

Here I was, locked in a freezing, half-furnished bedroom, clutching a trembling kitten like some Victorian ghost’s wife. Day one, and I was already starring in my own horror movie.

No way I was telling Mom. She’d either move in or hit me with the “I told you so.”

I sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, Chester kneading my thigh like his life depended on it. His purring helped. Just enough to stop my hands from shaking as I grabbed my phone and texted Annie.

You’re never going to believe it.

Annie:

What is it, sugar?

Pretty sure someone’s out to get me.

What? No!

The police have me under surveillance. There was a murder in my backyard.

Will you be alright?

I hope so, Chester and I are locked in the bedroom right now while the hot cop scopes out the joint… again.

Hot cop? Maggie you didn’t. Did you?

No. And I’m not going to. But, I think he might like me on my own. No magic.

Just remember the mess you got yourself into here.

Oh I remember just fine. Something pretty terrible would have to happen for me to say that spell again.

Is there anything you need me to do from Ohio?

I don’t think so… I’ve been stuck in the hospital and interrogation, so this is really the first chance I’ve had to text you since showing you the creepy portrait.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back the phone up. You never said anything about a hospital, what happened?

Remember how I said a long time ago, how I could never handle being involved in a murder case because I was too fainty?

Yeah, that. I passed out when Graham started asking me questions.

But you’re all right? You didn’t hit your head or anything?

I’m fine. I really just want to get to sleep… but I don’t know if that is going to happen.

Be careful Maggie! Call me if you need anything.

Love you,Annie.

Love you too, sugar.

I slid my phone away and started to spiral—right on cue, a knock at the door. I froze. Every nerve screamed.

Graham. It has to be.

I cracked the door open—and found no one.

“Real funny, Graham,” I muttered.

I turned toward the window, studying the glass, hoping for answers. If someone were in here and jumping out, wouldn’t the glass shatter out, not in? A tightness coiled in my chest.

“How the hell did you break?” I whispered.

The lights flickered. I looked toward the switch?—

And then it hit.

The temperature dipped again, and a cloud of glowing green smoke burst from thin air, swirling fast—too fast—until it shoved me against the wall. The air turned thick, electric. It coiled upward, circling the ceiling like a storm trapped in a snow globe.

Chester arched his back, his hiss low and mean as he pressed against my leg.

Then a voice rose from inside the smoke—low, distant, echoing like it was underwater.

“Maggie, you must leave this place at once.”

Chills stabbed down my spine.

I couldn’t move.

The voice swallowed everything—thought, breath, sound.

Then the smoke shifted. Took shape.

A face. Half-formed. Floating just above me. Uncle Silas. I knew it like I knew my reflection—he matched the painting in the study.

“You are not safe here, dear girl.”

His features flickered like a dying candle in the wind.

“I didn’t find anything.”

Graham’s voice cracked through the trance—too loud, too normal.

The apparition jolted, then unraveled.

Silas’s face twisted back into smoke and collapsed to the floor, vanishing in a crackle of static.

The overhead light flared brighter and brighter?—

Then pop.

Everything went black.

“What the hell was that?” Graham turned on his pistol mounted flashlight, sweeping the room in a harsh white beam.

“I think it was my uncle,” I whispered.

Chester trembled. So did I.

I scooped him up, trying to smooth down the fur that still stood on end.

Graham looked pale—eyes wide, like maybe he saw it too.

“What do you mean, your uncle ?” His voice wasn’t steady. He took a step back, like the truth might touch him if he stood too close.

“Silas is dead.”

“He is,” I breathed.

This couldn’t be real. I had to be imagining it. There was no way—no way— I’d just seen the ghost of my dead uncle.

Graham stood there, staring—not at me, but through me. Like I wasn’t even a person anymore. Just a problem to solve.

“So you’re saying we just saw a ghost?” His tone was half disbelief, half accusation.

“I think so,” I said, even though my voice barely made it past my lips.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. I don’t know what kind of voodoo shit you’re into, but ghost stories aren’t going to stop whoever’s after you.”

Then he added, colder this time, “If you wanted company, you could’ve just asked. No need for theatrics.”

His words slapped me.

“Why the fuck would I make that up?” I snapped, heat rising in my chest.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I don’t have time for these kinds of games.”

Games? Now he draws the line? This from the guy who just let me zoom in on his dick like it was a free trial of his OnlyFans account.

I shook my head.

Guess his professionalism does have a switch.

He turned on his heel and walked out.

No explanation. No apology.

Just boots on hardwood, getting farther away.

It was like he dropped me from three stories.

“I thought you were supposed to protect me!” I yelled after him, voice cracking.

He didn’t even look back.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,” he called back, “but if it’s another ghost, don’t bother.”

What the hell just happened?

Was this the same man who I fed fries to an hour ago? The one I offered a blowjob to?

Now I was just the crazy girl in the haunted house.

I sank down by the wall, Chester tucked tight in my arms. Anger, shame, fear… they all fought for space inside me.

It was real.

It had to be

My skin prickled remembering the glow, the smoke, Silas’s face—and his warning.

Graham saw it.

I know he did.

Even if he didn’t want to believe it, he didn’t have to treat me like I was out of my damn mind.

Could this night get any worse?

I was alone. In an empty house. With a terrified cat and a ghost warning me to run. And the one person who was supposed to protect me now thought I’d lost my marbles.

It’d been hours.

Graham still sat parked out front, radio crackling now and then, reminding me of the fact that he was close—but not here.

God, I could’ve punched him.

The least he could’ve done was come inside.

Said something. Been here.

Instead, I was alone.

Me, Chester… and the ghost.

I was a fucking target. Someone out there wanted me dead.

And part of me—yeah the reckless, heart-hollow part—wanted to just cast the damn spell, fuck him, forget this whole mess, and feel something besides terrified.

But it would only hurt in the long run.

I knew that.

But then again… why should I have cared if it hurt him?

He left me .