Descent (Black Heart Romance)

Clara, one of the bridesmaids, pops her head back into the room from Charity’s bridal suite. “Hallie, she said she found it. It’s on the bouquet already.”

I thank her for letting me know and she disappears back into the room with Charity.

I look at the pretty necklace one more time, then head back into the suite to thank her, but when I get to Charity’s room, she has already left.

It’s nearly time to start the march down the aisle, so I head out to the hallway to retrieve my bouquet from the vase it’s being kept in, then we all make our way to the lovely area outside the garden where the ceremony is set up.

Mentally, I know the ceremony is lovely, but I can’t feel it. I’ve spent the better part of the day rushing around to help others and get myself ready, but now that the whole world has slowed down for my best friend and her almost-husband to exchange their vows…

Well, mine is catching up with me.

A wave of desolation sweeps over me as I stand there tightly gripping the lush bouquet. A weight falls upon my chest, making it harder and harder to draw a normal breath. To breathe at all without drawing attention.

I try to shove down the smothering feeling of panic, but my mind sweeps me back to that dungeon room he lured me into. I remember the feel of the cold wall pressed against my back, the shiver of fear I felt looking up into his cool brown eyes—so intense, yet so controlled. The way he looked at me, knowing what he was about to do to me. Not seeming to feel one bit ashamed of it.

Only a monster could do such a thing.

This morning I tried to tell myself it was over and I never needed to think about it—or him—ever again. But I can’t shake the feeling that I haven’t escaped him yet. It’s like I can feel his dark eyes on me even now.

Even knowing it’s all in my head, I want to run and hide.

Conscious of the wedding photographer snapping pictures, I try to keep my feelings off my face.

I didn’t tell Charity what happened last night. Didn’t want to tarnish her wedding day. I told myself I’d tell her later, but I’m not sure I will. I’m not sure I’ll ever tell anybody.

The photographer turns and focuses on Charity with her bridal party behind her. I stand a little taller and do my best to paste a serene smile on my face.

He moves forward, focusing on me.

I keep my eyes on Charity as the camera flashes.

Once he has snapped the photo, he shifts his focus to the woman behind me.

Another flash. My vision is still a little spotty from the last one.

The photographer moves past me.

My absent-minded gaze drifts to the guests. I know it’s crazy, but I still feel tense, and for my own peace of mind, I need to give my brain solid evidence that—

My heart stops.

The breath is sucked from my lungs.

The edges of my vision start to fade, and this time it’s not because of a camera flash.

Sitting in a white, tulle-draped chair right on the aisle is the man who caused my sleeplessness last night. A man who has absolutely no business being here, at Charity’s wedding.

Why is he here?

Panic threatens to close my throat. I don’t know what to do, but it feels like something must be done.

I look around first, to see if anyone else is panicked. It’s a silly instinct—he looks like a man, not a monster, so why should they feel threatened?—but to me, Godzilla just popped up and swatted over several skyscrapers, so it really feels like I shouldn’t be the only one flipping the fuck out.

I am, though.

Everyone else is simply attending a wedding.

I’m suddenly sucked back into Hell.

I still can’t breathe properly, but I try to as I shift my gaze back to make sure I’m not crazy and seeing things, to make sure he’s the crazy one and he’s really sitting in the audience at my best friend’s wedding.

He is, and his dark gaze is glued to me.

I try to make sense of it. My brain is rioting, panicking, throwing everything out of order. Trying to restore some sense of order, I try to explain away his presence in a way that doesn’t have a thing to do with me.

Maybe it’s a coincidence that he’s here. It’s not that he’s stalking me, he just happened to be invited to the same wedding I’m in. It doesn’t seem likely, but it’s not entirely implausible. I don’t know all of Tyler’s friends or family. Hell, he could even be someone’s plus-one.

My gaze shifts to the thin blonde sitting beside him. She’s wearing a purple dress that showcases her cleavage. She’s pretty enough to be his date, but there’s no evidence to support it. She isn’t leaning close to him to murmur commentary about the wedding. He doesn’t have a strong hand on her thigh, a daring hand that might drop and slide up under her dress to cause trouble while she tries to focus on the ceremony.