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Of course, I know about Briggs Lane. As soon as I saw it pop up as his location, I knew why he was there and I wanted so badly to ignore it.
There was a time, right before my father died, when he told me he’d hired a private investigator to look deeper into Dominic and his past. We were eating dinner—me, dad, and my witch of a mother—and I was so angry to hear him confess this information. I did it for you, Joey, he’d said.
He told me there were things I needed to know about Dominic, and that I shouldn’t be so quick to marry him. Daddy said Dominic was no good for the family. At the time, I just assumed my father was being overprotective and overbearing and was willing to throw any information at me in order to get me to leave Dominic, so I chucked my fork on the table and left.
I flew straight home to Raleigh that night. Dominic had business in South Carolina. But my father wouldn’t have been, well, my father, if he hadn’t mailed the documents to me the following day. Inside it were news clippings about a woman who’d been abducted for months and then returned. This woman was heavyset and appeared older than her actual age listed in the article. Her hair was gray, and her eyes were big and familiar. There were more news reports about this same woman killing herself. And then a picture popped out of the envelope of a young Dominic and his mother. She had her arm wrapped around him as they faced a camera. He was smiling. She was not. Below the photo were the words: Missing local woman Beretta Baker reunites with her son Dominic Baker. More info was inside the envelope, like the title to a house with the address 4951 Briggs Lane in Raleigh, North Carolina.
I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Dominic told me his mother was in a psychiatric facility. He said I could never visit her because she was unwell, and he was worried she’d lash out at me. But all this time, she’d been dead, and he lied about it. Why did he lie?
I took it upon myself to find this house on Briggs Lane, so I grabbed my keys and drove to the address, only to find a cabin that was in horrible shape. It was surrounded by enormous trees and covered in vines. Dusty rocking chairs were on the porch. To my surprise, the cabin was unlocked so I took a peek inside. The house was dirtier inside, particles floating in the air.
I stepped into one of the bedrooms, and one of the floorboards wobbled beneath my feet. I found pictures tucked beneath that floorboard as well as a note. To this day, that note haunts me because even though it was a suicide letter, it’s written in Dominic’s handwriting.
When I saw the app pull up Dominic’s location at that address, I couldn’t figure out why he’d go there of all places. Now I’m here, sitting next to a scorned woman and making my way back to that haunting place.
It doesn’t take long for me to find it. I drive along a dirt path that winds upward between massive trees, and spot the cabin perched on a hill. I park near a tree and out of sight, like Brynn insists, and we sit for a moment, staring ahead. Lights are on inside the cabin and a husky silhouette passes by the window.
It’s Boaz. I know it is.
“What’s your plan?” I ask.
Brynn keeps her eyes ahead, focused on the cabin. Then she grabs my phone, pops open the passenger door, and says, “To get my friend back.”
I watch her run through the grass and find a footpath that leads to the house, peering around as she goes. Her hood is on her head, making her look like a thief in the night.
When she’s far enough, I lean forward and reach under my seat until I feel something hard and cold. I pull my other phone out that only one other person knows about, power it on, and make two necessary calls.
FIFTY-FIVE
BRYNN
I have no idea what I’m doing. I didn’t think Dominic would be stupid enough to bring Shavonne here, and being at this cabin has thrown off my entire plan.
When I saw him camped out around the motel, I knew he’d go to drastic measures just to conceal the truth, so we went forward with the plan anyway.
Actually, it was Shavonne who noticed him the very first time. She saw his car parked across the way when she’d left The Bean Bar and pretended not to notice the lurking black SUV. She rode straight to our motel and when she was inside, she watched from the window as Dominic parked on the side of the road.
Then, a few days after planting the dead crow in his trunk, he shows up. I noticed him first when I ran to get ice from the ice machine in the lobby. The Black SUV was parked near a cluster of trees, close to abandoned buildings and trucks. The engine clearly wasn’t running, as none of the lights were on, but I spotted Dominic’s frame behind the wheel.
“He’s out there,” I told Shavonne when I went back to the room with the ice.
She pulled her head out of her book, frowning. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I knew it’d only be a matter of time.”
“Damn.” She swallowed, her eyes bouncing around the motel room. “How long do we make him wait?”
“A few hours,” I said, dropping ice into a plastic cup. I cracked open a cherry flavored Pepsi and poured it over the ice. “We need him to be desperate—to get impatient and antsy, like we planned. That’s when people make the most mistakes.”
And sure enough, he did. I watched from behind the back of the motel as he punched Shavonne in her face. It took everything in me not to scream, not to run out and shoot him with the unregistered pistol I’d bought from some man’s trunk in New Orleans. Dominic put her in the back of his truck, tossed her phone, and hauled ass.
Now, I’m at this cabin, my gun in hand, breaths ragged as I walk around the back. One of the windows doesn’t have a curtain and I see Shavonne sitting in a chair with thick black cords wrapped around her body. That large man who buried me (or so he thought) is inside too, sitting on the couch. He’s rubbing his head, eyes squeezed tight, like he knows this is the end of the line for them. He and Dominic are in deep shit, and it’ll all come to light soon.
I walk around the back of the house, stopping just before I turn the corner. I hear something screech, and then a rough sliding noise. When I peek around the corner, the big man steps through the backdoor with a pack of cigarettes in hand. I yank my head back and press it against the wall of the cabin as my heart beats faster.
Okay. Okay. I can do this.
I bring the gun to my chest. I’ve never used one before in my life, but I’m willing to if it means saving Shavonne. If I shoot this man and weaken him before Dominic shows up again, I will have the upper hand. Dominic won’t see me coming.
