Page 51 of Fractured Fate

He never gave consideration to flowers and their longevity before. His mother liked to have flowers in their family home, but he never messed with them. Though, he did know a lot about outdoor flowers from listening to her gardening shows while he did homework when he lived at home.

Still, he knew Charlotte was deflecting from something. No one looked that horrified by a flower delivery for no reason and then stuck them in a vase to display.

When she finished cutting the stems and arranging the roses, she disposed of the waste in the garbage. She turned around and looked up at him with an exasperated sigh. “What?”

He stood in front of her, arms crossed, feet spread. Riley liked to call it his intimidation stance, but he thought little of it. He simply wasn’t backing down. “Tell me why you reacted like that.”

“Like what?” She adjusted the vase and took a washcloth, wiping the counter to clean up the remaining debris from her flower arranging.

“Like instead of a flower delivery, someone delivered a bomb.”

She looked over her shoulder, her mouth parting slightly. “A bomb?”

He shrugged. “Something that spooked you, I dunno.”

“Yeah, well, it’s fine.” She rinsed the washcloth and wrung it out, draping it over the side of the sink to dry. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“How about what’s really going on?”

“It won’t make a difference,” she said, her shoulders lowering with her exhalation.

He didn’t like the idea of pushing her and making the genuine uneasiness she carried worse, but he needed to know. How could he fix it if he didn’t know?

“It will. If anything, you’ll feel better if you talk about it.” He glanced toward the living room. “I’m piecing together things, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“For starters, the loveseat blocking the only other door into the apartment.” He lifted his chin toward the loveseat. “You said someone’s following you. How long has that been going on?”

She wrapped her arms around her middle and stepped into the living room. “I don’t know when it started. Not long after I started at UGA.”

“What?”

“Someone’s been following—”

“No, I heard you.” His fingers twitched at his side as his agitation grew. “I’m just trying to figure out why in the hell didn’t you tell someone before now. What were you thinking?” He’d never spoken to her like this. Never felt irritated with her. Judging by the incredulous look on her face, she did not like it.

In reality, he felt mostly irritated with the situation, but the lines blurred when he considered she didn’t tell someone and left herself in danger.

“Seriously?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “It’s not my fault. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t even sure it was for real until the jerk started sending roses.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but her glare made him snap it shut.

“And for your information, when he broke into my apartment when I was on the call with you, I went to the police the next day.”

Good. At least she didn’t ignore the seriousness of the situation and sought help. He felt a pang of remorse for getting upset with her, considering the effort she made to confess that her discomfort about staying here went beyond her major.

He blew out a long breath, recentering himself, and schooled his voice. “What did they say?”

Her shoulder hitched, and his eyes zeroed in on the redness on the bare skin along the thick straps of her tank top. He wondered if she got sunburn waiting for him when he texted.

“They took the report. Came and did a sweep of my apartment that lasted forever and said to keep in touch if anything else happened. Said they’d contact me if they discovered anything from the security footage. Nothing turned up when they looked into the flower delivery service.”

“Nothing?” His brows rose in surprise.

“Nothing,” she said flatly. “I called the lieutenant assigned to my case this morning to follow up, and he told me the flower shop security system had been on the fritz lately, and every two days they wipe the tapes to reuse.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. “What about records of who made the orders?”