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The next message is timestamped 3:18. Which was right after he called Devin. If he was calling and messaging me that much, and I wasn’t responding, why wouldn’t he just come by here and knock on the door?
But then I remember why. I closed the gate after Ben left. And my car was in the garage—a luxury I rarely use when I’m staying here. And because you can see the driveway and front of the house from the road, Rigger probably assumed I wasn’t home when he didn’t see my car. All the while I was napping.
I listen to his 3:18 message.
“Tove. I need you to listen to me, very carefully,” he grits out, voice shaky. “I don’t know if you’re still pissed off at me but I’m begging you to put that aside right now.” He pulls in a deep breath and lowers his voice. “I’ve got some bad news. I’m on a flight to Virginia, we’re about to take off or else I would be climbing your goddamn gate. If you’re at home, get out. Get out right fucking now. You’re in danger. Grab your purse, leave your clothes, and drive, just like we discussed. Call me when you’re on the road and hopefully I’ll have landed by then. I don’t know if I can get a signal up in the clouds.” I hear voices in the background, some shuffling sounds, then he comes back on the phone. “Be safe. Andcall me back, goddamnit.”
My pulse races as I play the voicemail again. Why couldn’t he just tell me what’s going on?
I slowly turn and look inside my apartment, glancing at my front door. If I’m not safe at Daddy’s, I’m probably not safe here either.
Fear grips me by the throat as I walk back inside and flip down the lock on the balcony door. I grab my purse, mind racing as I realize I can’t justleave. I have to go back and get Ritz. He hates the car but I don’t have any other options.
I wish Ben were here. I could ask him to fetch Ritz since he loves Ben so much.
But Ben isn’t here. And furthermore, he hasn’t even replied to the text I sent a while ago, probably because he’s behind the wheel. It’s almost 6:30 though. He should be there by now if he left from my house.
Damn it. That’s the end of my voicemails. So until Rigger lands and calls me I have to live in the dark. I’ve no choice but to go to Daddy’s and get Ritz myself.
Dangerous or not, I will not leave my boy there.
I do a quick run-through of my place, packing a bag with enough clothes to last a few days since I only plan on staying at my dad’s long enough to get Ritz. I pause in the doorway, wondering if there’s any evidence here tying me to Snowden and all the other men I killed.
No. I’ve always been careful about that. Clothes I wore got thrown away. My wigs are at the YMCA. I’m good.
With anxiety clawing at my nerves I head out, locking my door and taking the stairs down instead of the elevator. I get to my car and feel a little better once I’m out of the parking lot. I keep my phone close, becoming more agitated by the second that Rigger hasn’t called me back yet. And the irony that the tables have turned is not funny at all.
I hit a stoplight. I should be at Dad’s by 6:45.
Rigger should be landing soon if his flight left right before 3:30.
My phone rings. Speak of the devil.
I swipe the screen so fast I drop my phone.
“Shit. Hold on a second, Rig. I dropped the phone!”
I reach around the floor—thankfully the light I’m at is still red. I find it and sigh as I bring it to my ear.
“Sorry. I dropped—”
“Vay! … you there … are you okay?” he yells.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I hear crackling on the line. Obviously it’s a horrid connection.
“… you there? … haven’t quite landed but I’m about to. Are you … your dad’s house?”
“I just left my condo. You’re breaking up. What’s going on? Is it King?”
I hold my breath, chew the scar on my lip. Could this finally be over? Can I finally put what this man has done to me and my family behind me and move the fuck on with my life?
Somehow, I know it isn’t that simple. Or else Rigger wouldn’t be shouting at me and leaving messages that I’m in danger.
But … maybe I’m not in danger anymore if they caught him.
The light turns green.
Rigger starts shouting through the phone but it’s like he’s shouting down a tunnel that’s a thousand miles away. I can barely hear him.
