Till Death(63)

Oh my God.

Oh. My. God.

My pulse was all over the place for a totally different reason now. “I . . .”

A thunderous series of raps knocked off the interior apartment door. “Cole? Sasha? Are you two in there?”

“That’s Tyron.” Frowning, Cole rose swiftly from the couch. I followed him. He opened the door, and over his shoulder I saw my mother standing behind the detective, her face pale and worried. “What’s going on?” Cole asked.

My stomach knotted with dread.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you two, but this couldn’t wait.” The detective was holding a clear plastic bag, and inside of it was the package I’d gotten out of the mail. “This was behind the desk. Sasha, did you bring it inside?”

“Yeah,” I answered, stepping to Cole’s side. “Why are you asking?”

“I was on my way out when your mother picked up the mail from behind the desk,” he explained.

“It was leaking,” Mom added.

“Leaking?” I whispered. “Leaking what?”

“Have you opened it?” Cole demanded.

Detective Conrad shook his head. “I wanted to get her permission first.”

“You have my permission,” I told him, glancing at Mom. I noticed the guy from forensics was also in the hallway.

Detective Conrad turned, handing the bagged package over to the man. That’s when I saw that the corner of the package was a darker color of brown. I reached out, placing my hand on Cole’s arm.

The man reached inside with a gloved hand. Using a small knife, he carefully peeled one end open as Mom folded her arms. “Did you see where it was from?” she asked. “Who sent it?”

I shook my head. “I glanced at it, but I didn’t really look at it. I got distracted and set it down . . .”

“Sasha,” she whispered, and the dread exploded like buckshot.

The investigator eased out a black cardboard box the size of the package. It looked like a plain gift box to me. I held my breath as he opened it.

“Oh goodness!” Mom clapped her hands over her mouth and quickly twisted to the side.

“Holy shit,” the man said, turning to Detective Conrad. “You’re going to want to see this.”

“What is it?” I stepped forward, but only got so far, because suddenly Cole was in front of me and out in the hall. “Mom—?”

Cole cursed as the detective planted his hands on his hips, and that horrible feeling spread like a noxious weed, choking me as I stepped out in the hall.

Cole shifted, trying to hide what the investigator held, but I got between him and the detective. My mouth dropped open as I jolted back, bumping into the wall outside my apartment. Disbelief flooded me.

“No,” I whispered. “No way.”

Cole faced me, and there was a different set of emotions etched into his features. He took a step toward me, but I held up my hand. I needed the space—a moment, because what was in the box was wrong on so many levels.

It was a finger.

A woman’s finger.





Chapter 19




A deep numbness seeped in through my skin, right into my muscle and bone. There was a finger in a box sent to me. A woman’s finger. The bubblegum-pink polish was typically a dead giveaway on that.

“Honey.” Mom rubbed my arm. “Maybe you should go sit down.”

Shaking my head, I leaned against the wall. I didn’t want to go sit down or move. My eyes were glued to the three men. Detective Conrad was on the phone. Cole was bent slightly, eyeing the package the investigator held.

I dragged in air, but it seemed to go nowhere. There was a huge part of me that couldn’t believe what I had seen. A part of my brain that absolutely just shut down and belly-flopped into denial.

This wasn’t happening.

My throat dried. “There was a finger in that box,” I whispered.

Cole’s head swung sharply in my direction and a heartbeat later, he said, “You hanging in there?” When I nodded, he glanced down at Mom. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” she replied.

“Call Miranda and get her over here,” Cole said, voice low. “Let her know what happened. Stress the importance of keeping that quiet.”

I pushed off the wall. “She doesn’t need to be here. I just need a few minutes to myself—”

“That is not what you need. This is some serious shit, Sasha. You’re telling me you’re fine. Maybe you are right now but that might change, and when that does, I want you surrounded by people who care about you instead of being by yourself.”

“He’s right, honey.” Mom squeezed my arm. “Let me call Miranda.”

About to protest again, I stopped. I nodded. Taking a few minutes seemed normal to most people, but for me, those few minutes could turn into years.

Mom hurried off down the hall while Cole took my hand and led me back into the apartment. He left the door ajar behind us as he tugged on my hand, pulling me toward him.

I went even though my first instinct was to pull away. He folded his arms around me, one hand on the center of my back and the other curling around the nape of my neck. He slid his hand up and down my spine.

Closing my eyes, I face-planted into his chest and welcomed the comfort of his warmth and touch. I took a shallow breath and repeated, “There was a finger in the box.”