Page 21 of Saved from Obsession

She steps around me, her eyes wide as she looks at him. “Why? If it’s safe, I want to see what’s in there.”

“No, Georgia.” I answer before Cole has a chance to. “It’s not a good idea. Let us check it first. Just in case it’s something upsetting.”

Her eyebrows wing down, tiny lines forming between her eyes. She looks like she wants to argue with me, her jaw jutting out stubbornly. But she must see something in my gaze, because all at once her shoulders drop and she sighs heavily. “Fine.”

Once she walks back to the kitchen, I crouch down to join Cole on the floor. He pulls a switchblade from his toolkit and slits the tape around the box, pausing before he pulls the flaps open. Meeting my gaze, his expression is as somber as mine. Considering what’s been sent to Georgia already—horrible threats and violent images—I don’t have a good feeling about what we’re about to reveal.

My instincts were right.

And now that I’m looking at the contents of the box, I’m doubly glad I told Georgia to wait in the kitchen. This isn’t something she should have to see.

Inside the box is a dead crow, its neck obviously broken. It must have been put inside right after it was killed, because there’s a small stain of blood on the cardboard beneath its beak. And tacked to the wing is a note with bold, red lettering. Just two words, but more than enough to get across the message.

You’re next.

“He’s escalating.” Cole’s gaze jumps from the dead bird to meet mine. His voice is pitched low enough so only I can hear it. “I don’t like that he’s sending this to her, but—”

“The next time he may want to deliver it himself.” My words are gritted through clenched teeth. “And then we’ll catch the bastard.”

“Hopefully, Rylan will have found out something we can go on.” Cole’s brows are pulled down in a scowl. “This has been going on too long already.”

I stare down at the dead bird, feeling a sick wave of premonition. Something about the contrast of black and red, or maybe the brutal simplicity of its death has me feeling this way. Or maybe it’s because this violence is directed toward a woman I care for much more than I should.

“Oh—“ A swift intake of air comes from behind me, quickly stifled. I turn around to see Georgia standing behind me, her hand clapped over her mouth, eyes round with shock.

Dammit. How did I not hear her coming?

I jump up and grab her by the arms, pulling her away from the box and over to the other side of the living room. Her body is stiff but unresisting, her gaze locked straight ahead, her expression frozen in a horrified mask. She whispers from beneath her hand, “I’m… sorry… I…”

Cole comes over to join us, making the third in our unhappy trio. “Georgia,” he starts. “It's going to be okay.”

Her eyes swing to mine, a maelstrom of shock and grief and pain. A small muffled whimper escapes, and she chokes out, “Hekilledit… thenote…”

Face colorless, fear etched into her features, she starts shaking again, even worse than before. Tears well up, a second from falling. She sags for a moment; if I wasn’t holding onto her arms, I think she might collapse from the weight of everything. And my heart feels like it’s been squeezed in a fist, physically aching to see her in such pain.

“Georgia.“ I can’t scold her for going against what I told her, not now. “It’s alright—“

Her gaze swings between Cole’s and mine—she looks trapped, panicked—and one tear streaks down her cheek. “Ican’t,“ she whispers, and pulls away from me. Before I can reach out to her, say something, anything, that might help, she bolts out of the room and up the stairs.

A few seconds later, a door slams shut, and I look at my friend as a wave of regret washes over me. “Dammit, Cole. We should have taken the package somewhere else. Or made her go into the bedroom. Or—I don’t know—justsomething.”

“If she was determined to see it…” Cole trails off. “I’m not sure it would have made a difference.”

“But,” a band wraps around my chest. “God, Cole. Did you see herface? And now she’s up there, alone, probably crying—”

Cole’s dark eyes scan my face with an appraising gaze. After a weighted pause, he says, “You should go up there. See if she needs anything. Maybe she wants to be alone, but if it’s you offering your support...”

“What do you mean?” Does he suspect something?

Cole stares at me, his expression giving away nothing. “It’s obvious you have the strongest bond with her.” His phone buzzes and he glances at the screen. Swiping the message open, he scans it before continuing.

“Rylan said the guy was panhandling when he was approached by a stranger. The stranger offered him money if he’d bring a package here.” Cole pauses as another message comes in. “The stranger was wearing sunglasses, a hat, nondescript clothing—not much to go on. But we have a location, and there may be security cameras nearby that might have gotten a shot of him.”

I’m torn between grabbing my laptop or going to Georgia. But I know someone else who can help just as much—probably more, if I’m honest. “Call Beth.”

Cole nods at me. “That’s what I was thinking. She’s great at hacking into all kinds of systems. If there’s something on there, she’ll find it. And Leo, go check on Georgia. Rylan and I will take care of the rest for now.”

I can’t stop thinking about her upstairs, crying, trying to deal with her pain all alone. Giving Cole a little chin lift, I head for the stairs. As I get to the bedroom door, I can hear her muffled sobs, the sound like a sledgehammer crashing into my chest. Bracing my hand against the wood of the door, I take a deep breath before knocking lightly on it.

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