Page 86 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)

And now I was standing outside a high-end bank, with a jealous, spell-drunk ex, a pissed-off maybe -boyfriend, and an entire murder mystery unraveling in my hands.

I had no time for an emotionally unstable ex-lover camping on my doorstep like a lovesick puppy.

“You can’t boss me around,” Jamie snapped, eyes wild. “It’s a free country. I’m allowed to be in public as long as I’m not causing a disturbance. I know my rights.” He was cracking fast—voice rising, redness climbing his neck, breathing borderline hyperventilation.

Graham didn’t flinch.

“You’re this close to causing a disturbance,” he warned, his voice gruff. “Now back off .”

But Jamie didn’t listen.

He cocked his arm and swung, missing Graham by inches.

“Why should I listen to you?” he yelled. “She’s mine !”

The second punch connected.

Crack.

Graham’s head jerked sideways, jaw clenched against the pain.

“No, she’s not.”

He came up fast, driving an uppercut into Jamie’s chin.

A sickening clack echoed off the building as Jamie’s teeth snapped together.

He dropped instantly. Lights out.

Jesus!

A crowd had formed, four or five deep—murmurs rippling, phones raised, whispers worming their way to my ears louder than the traffic behind them.

Fucking fantastic . Just what I needed—front page scandal: Suspended cop body-slams out-of-towner over the weird new girl, filmed from every goddamn angle.

Why’d Jamie have to fuck around and find out?

And more importantly —why the hell did I let him?

Graham moved fast—had Jamie’s arms wrenched behind his back and the guy face-down on the pavement before I could even blink.

And just like that— zip ties.

Where the hell did he even pull those from? Didn’t matter. Jamie’s wrists were bound before he could protest.

“Graham, what are you doing?” A flush of panic crept up the back of my neck.

“He can cool off in a holding cell.” Graham’s voice was all grit. “Besides, hitting an officer’s a crime. So is stalking.”

He hoisted Jamie into the bed of the truck like he weighed nothing, then opened my door.

“Get in,” he growled, making it perfectly clear he was not happy with this situation.

I climbed in without arguing. The second we started driving, I glanced back. “Did you have to hit him that hard? He’s not even moving back there.”

“He’s fine,” Graham muttered through clenched teeth. “But thanks for the concern… on my behalf. ”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. You’re twice his size. I knew you could take him without breaking a sweat—I just didn’t want you catching a manslaughter charge over my dumb mistake.”

“Well, I didn’t. And would you put some real goddamn curtains up? Not those mosquito nets you think blur shit. I don’t need the whole town watching when I fuck you.”

Fair, but still…

I stared out the window, my pulse refused to settle.

I couldn’t believe Jamie actually showed up.

When this was over, I had to ask the aunts how the hell to break this damn curse.

I waited in the truck while Graham dragged Jamie into the precinct.

Twenty minutes passed before he stormed back out, jaw clenched tight. He yanked the door open and climbed in, slamming it shut hard enough to rattle the mirrors.

“Did it go okay?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, Max. It did not go okay,” he snapped. “In case you forgot—I’m suspended. As in, not a cop. So technically? I just committed battery… and unlawful detainment.”

“You didn’t have to arrest him, you know,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded. “I think you overreacted a little.”

“ Overreacted? ” He turned the key, the engine growling almost as if it was pissed too. “He could be dangerous, Max. And what the fuck was that back there? ‘ Be together forever again?’ ” He bobbled his head, mimicking Jamie.

Graham waited for my response, but I didn’t have one—at least not one I was ready to share—so he stared ahead, the truck idling, his hands clenched tightly on the wheel, leather creaking under his grip.

“Are you… jealous? ” My voice failed horribly at hiding my excitement. But now was not the time to relish, “Jaime was just a simple fuck-and-forget,” I said plainly.

“He doesn’t sound like it. Not to him, anyway.” His bitter voice seethed past his clenched teeth. “But I get it. I can’t forget either—not now that we’ve been together. Which is why I need to know if I’m just dealing with some lovesick idiot… or if he’s a goddamn threat.”

“I—I don’t think he’s a threat,” I stammered, trying to soothe him. But honestly, I didn’t know Jamie that well.

“Alright.” Graham shifted the truck into reverse. “Then I’ll make sure he’s back on a plane to Ohio by morning.”

He had no idea this wasn’t Jamie’s fault. No idea I’d done this. That I’d messed with something I had no business messing with.

Goddamn it.

We started the ride back to the manor in silence—blessed, beautiful silence—until, of course, Graham had to ruin it.

“So… you like ‘em kinda young, huh?”

I whipped my head toward him. “What? God, no!”

He smirked, giving me a judgmental side-eye. “You know he just turned eighteen last month, right?”

“What? No, he told me he was twenty-one! He bought me a round at the bar the first time we—” I clamped my mouth shut.

“Nope. Eighteen .” Graham’s voice was smug and maddening.

“Barely legal. Cute little felony waiting to happen there, babes.”

“And? What’s it to you?” I recoiled, crossing my arms. Heat rose in my cheeks. “I’m sure you’ve slept with women half your age.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “but I check IDs, not just vibes. I prefer if my sex life kept me off a certain registry.”

“Oh, excuse me for not having access to the personal records of everyone I’ve ever slept with.” I glared out my window. “Besides, he was my youngest vic?—”

Fuck. Fuck.

Graham’s head snapped toward me. “Your what now?”

My heart thudded in my chest.

He stared.

I stared harder out the window.

Dead silence.

God, I was a fucking idiot. Of all the words I could’ve used, I went with victim . Real smart, Maggie. Especially considering… everything.

I should just tell him. Rip off the band-aid. Be honest. Transparent. Start this relationship with something resembling a clean slate.

Who the hell was I kidding? He was going to lose it . Probably slam on the brakes and leave me on the side of the road with nothing but my shame and a half-melted lip balm.

I sucked in a few shaky breaths and just… let it rip.

“Victim,” I said, eyes clenched shut waiting for the explosion.

“I cast seduction spells.” I regretfully continued. “I used to. On men. Sometimes women. Just when I wanted to… you know… get laid.”

Silence.

God. He’s definitely going to leave me on the side of the road.

He didn’t say a damn thing.

The silence stretched so long I started mentally drafting my apology to the universe.

I cracked one eye open. Then the other.

He was still driving. Still breathing. But that jaw. Damn. Clenched. Working. Probably wishing he’d never met me.

“Say something,” I whispered, with a pounding heart, and very noticeable load of regret hanging over me… “Please.”

“Well, well, well…” he muttered, that scowl etched deeper than usual, like it was carved into his damn soul.

“Should I even ask, or are you going to own up to it? Because it would sure as hell explain a lot— like why I can’t sleep, why I can’t stop thinking about you or that tight, dangerous little pussy of yours. ”

“ Jesus, Graham—no ! I didn’t cast a spell on you. Not intentionally, anyway. I stopped doing it when I left Ohio. I swear . You have to believe me.”

My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “It’s just… lately… the men, like Jamie, they’ve been getting obsessive, and I don’t know why. I don’t want it to be this way.”

His knuckles went white on the wheel. “So let me get this straight…”

He scoffed—a bitter, humorless sound.

“You see someone you like, hit ‘em with your little spell, fuck them and then bail when they get too into you? That’s not just selfish, Maggie...”

He turned to glance at me, his eyes dark, like thunder.

“That’s manipulation . That’s crossing a fucking line. You ever stop to think about what that does to someone? Hell, it might not be far off from rape.”

“No, it’s not rape. I use a truth spell first—just a few drops in their drink—so I know for sure they want to sleep with me before I ever cast the enchantment.”

“Oh, well… truth roofies … that makes it perfectly ethical, doesn’t it?”

His sarcasm could cut glass.

My jaw clenched. That tone—like I was some kind of monster—cut deeper than his words.

“ You’re really judging me right now?” I snapped. “Like you’re some fucking saint? Please. You’ve got your own trail of wreckage, Graham.”

“Damn right I am.” He gripped the wheel so hard I heard the leather strain. “You know what’s on my dating profile? Only here for a good time. No strings. No mornings. Sex only. Every woman knows what I am before I even show up.”

He cut another glance at me.

“I don’t cast spells, Maggie. I don’t trick anyone into bed. I’m honest about what they’re getting.”

Now seemed as good a time as any to torch the last fragile bridge between us. So I asked the question that’d clawed at my insides for days.

“So what about us?”

His silence made me fill it.

“By your rules, this should’ve ended after round two. But here we are. I can’t even know how many times we’ve fucked now. Shared pie. Co-parented my fucking cat? That’s not nothing, Graham.”

He stayed silent. Just kept driving like the answer was written on the road in front of us and he was hoping I’d stop asking before we reached it.

“I don’t know,” he finally muttered. “Do we have to call it something?”

“Before? No, I wouldn’t have asked.”

I paused, my voice tight with fear gripping at any hope I had for a happy ending.

“But I swore off those spells—and I swore off people who didn’t want anything real. So I’m asking… is there any chance this goes somewhere?”

He stared straight ahead, unable to look at me.

“I can’t,” he said, distancing himself, “I can’t promise anything more than a place to come. That’s all I’ve got left in me.”

My vision blurred.

“Oh,” was all I could manage at first.

Then, softer, “Is there a reason?”

“No.” He snipped.

The ride home was unbearable . Every second dragged on.

I tried to think of something—anything—to say that could have changed the subject.

But there was nothing.

Just.

Silence.

And more of it.

We pulled up to the manor. I got out, shut the door, and that was when I noticed?—

He hadn’t moved. He was still staring straight ahead like looking at anything but me would solve this.

I circled to the driver’s side and tapped the glass.

He rolled it down just enough for the distance between us to stay.

“Are you coming in?”

His eyes didn’t meet mine.

“We still have a few of Belvedere’s journals to go over.” I said, but my voice barely made it out of my mouth.

“No. Call Derek. Have him keep watch tonight.”

He paused.

“I’ve got someplace to be.”

And just like that, he backed down the driveway—taking my breath, my pride, and whatever pieces of my heart that were still holding on.

What the fuck?

Someplace to be?

I thought his someplace was here.

With me.

I was wrong about everything.