“Eight … ?” I choked out.

“That was when I first laid eyes on you. I really did come across your photo on a dodgy site, but it was just a screengrab from your Facebook. When I saw it … Audrey, you hit me like a bolt of lightning and I just knew. I knew we were destined.”

Destined? I gaped in horror at this man I thought I knew, this man who I was just now realizing was completely unhinged.

“I’ve read everything you’ve ever posted,” he continued earnestly. “All your blog posts, Facebook statuses, tweets, Instagram posts and Stories. I’ve listened to all the playlists you’ve made on Spotify. I’ve watched every movie you’ve ever recommended, read every book. I know everything about you, and I love every bit of you. Every last, incomparable bit.”

I shuddered and clutched the towel more tightly around my body. Naked desperation was shining in Max’s eyes, and I knew I needed to be anywhere other than alone in an empty house with him. I glanced toward the staircase, my only escape route. It was just five feet from me, but he was standing in front of it. I took a minuscule step toward it, hoping I might get past him if I moved slowly enough and kept him distracted.

“What about those other orange flowers?” I asked. “The ones tied to my gate? Were you the one who left them for me?”

He nodded proudly. “I knew you’d like them.”

“They were beautiful,” I allowed. “But what about the others? The headless ones? Was that you, too?”

“I needed to send a message,” he said, his expression darkening. “You were ignoring my requests for a second date, and then you had over that knuckle-dragging ex of yours. I know what you do with him. It’s disgusting.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “How do you know about Nick?”

“I told you, Audrey. I know everything about you.” At his side, one of his fists began clenching and unclenching. “I’ve done so much for you, so much that you don’t even know about, and then you just ran back to that meathead’s arms? That hurt. I had to show you how you were destroying something beautiful.”

“I’m sorry,” I said weakly, inching toward the stairs. “I didn’t understand.”

“I know,” he growled. “If you had understood, you wouldn’t have kept running back to him time and again.”

“I didn’t,” I protested, shaking my head wildly as if this—this misunderstanding—would be the thing that cleared up this whole nightmare. “I swear. I wasn’t ever with Nick after we started dating.”

“You’re lying,” he snarled, his fists tightening, knuckles going white. “Just like you lied then. You told me you had to work, but then you invited that pompous ass into your home. So I had to teach you a lesson. I had to show you, once and for all, that you shouldn’t leave me.”

“Oh my God,” I murmured, suddenly understanding. “You trashed my apartment. But how … ?”