I'll Never Stop (Hamlet 4) - Page 7

It was a cow’s heart. In the back of her mind, she realized that. It didn’t make the offal in her gift box any easier to accept.

Slamming the lid down on the heart, she tossed it on top of her dresser so that it was as far away from her as possible. The panic she hadn’t allowed herself to feel came crashing down on her with enough force that she nearly buckled beneath the pressure.

Her bedroom was too small. The room spun around her. She knocked into the edge of her bed, saving her balance in time to shove off the edge of the mattress and stumble out of her room. Sweat broke out on her brow. Grace swiped it away with the flat of her hand.

It was almost impossible to get enough air in. Her chest was tight, her eyes wide and afraid. She searched the living room in vain. She had to. She had to make sure Tommy wasn’t there.

He wasn’t. But the flowers on her table mocked her. The diamonds winked under the ceiling light. She choked on a strangled scream and backed away, nearly tripping on the goddamn apple.

She had to get away from all of it. So what if she was alone right now? She could swear that was Tommy’s expensive cologne lingering in the room. Choking on a gasp, she tore her gaze away from his gifts and darted for the front door.

As she burst out into the hall, desperate to get away from the shattered illusion of safety that was her apartment, Grace threw her back up against the wall and tried frantically to get herself under control.

She closed her eyes, fighting for each lungful of air. The shallow breaths would only make the overwhelming panic worse, she knew that, so she slowed her breathing, taking deep pulls until she felt some of the tightness in her chest recede.

Inhale. Hold a beat. Exhale.

Again.

Inhale. Hold a beat. Exh—

A door clicked open.

Grace jumped at the sound. Her eyes fluttered open as the rest of the air came out in a rush.

Lucas De Angelis was standing in the doorway of his apartment, Tessa peeking out from around his side. His stance was protective, from the way he gripped the door to the position of his body, blocking Tessa from running out into the hall. He had that cold, calculating look back on his handsome face, his pale blue eyes roaming over her intently as if deciding whether or not Grace was a threat.

Tessa, on the other hand, looked concerned. She had her hand near her mouth, pointer finger brushing up against her bottom lip.

She was the one who spoke up.

“Grace? What’s going on? I thought I heard screaming.”

Grace could only imagine what she looked like. Pale face, wild eyes, and a trembling body pressed up against the wall like she was a caged animal looking to make an escape. She pushed away, immediately trying to pull it together in the face of her concerned audience.

From the look on Tessa’s face, she didn’t come close.

Too late to turn back now. Calling up a shaky smile, she said, “I’m fine. Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?”

“Um, yeah.”

Tessa’s gaze narrowed. “The scream was close or we wouldn’t have heard it. Fran and Julie—” The neighbors who lived in the apartment between Grace and the De Angelises “—are gone for the weekend. Was it you?”

That was one relief from her mind. If Fran and Julie were gone, they couldn’t have seen anything—or drawn Tommy’s attention their way. Now, all she had to worry about was making sure her other neighbors didn’t get caught in the crosshairs.

But how to do that?

Thankfully, Lucas seemed willing to come to her rescue. With one lingering, searching look, he leaned into his wife and tried to herd her back into the apartment. “Tessa, baby, I don’t think—”

She took her husband by the sleeve and ran her fingers down his arm. “Lucas, hush. Something’s not right. Grace, what’s wrong?”

Tessa was too intuitive for her own good. She wasn’t going to drop it. Not unless Grace figured out a way to make her. Only, she was a ballerina, for God’s sake, not an actress.

What to do? What to do?

Grace couldn’t stand her pitying look, or Lucas’s calculating stare. She hadn’t meant to involve them, though she also hadn’t been thinking clearly when she saw what was in that second box. It was a heart, no matter what animal it came from—and, God, please let it have come from a butcher’s shop or something like that—and anyone’s first reaction to finding one in a gift box would be to lose it.

Tags: Jessica Lynch Hamlet Mystery
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