Page 42 of Don't Speak

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

It took longer than I expected to get here.

Since Ben’s death, Nikki has been in and out of sadness, stuck between wanting to help Sarah but also wanting to give her space.

I haven’t had a moment to leave Nikki without raising suspicion until now, since she’s with Amelia for her girls’ night.

I’ve been going crazy, knowing where James is but unable to get to him. But I’m here now.

The cabin is dark, and there are no cars outside.

After saying goodnight to Nikki, I hopped in my truck and made my way here.

I parked in the same spot as before and have been waiting in the woods with my binoculars.

I haven’t seen any movement since I got here thirty minutes ago, so I choose this moment to make my move and head toward the back.

The leaves of the forest floor crunch underneath me as I make my way to the run-down wooden steps, pulling out my lock-picking kit.

I make my way inside, pointing the flashlight directly on the paper-covered desk.

Everything is so spread out that I don’t even know where to begin.

I pick up a few, noticing that a few of them are drawings from what looks like a child.

They depict a young boy and a grown man on a fishing boat, a fish hanging from both of their hooks.

Some of the other papers include newspaper articles about Sean and the trial.

I notice my sister’s name is circled, along with several of the other named victims. My blood instantly boils.

Choking down the rage, I pick up a few others.

One of them is a deed. It looks like it is for the cabin, and I see it has James’ name listed as the owner.

I don’t know how this property hadn’t shown up in any of the searches I did on him.

I would have found this place sooner if it had.

The rest of the papers on this desk are just miscellaneous.

There isn’t much else in here, so I exit the room.

I make my way back to the living room, noticing that there are a few photos on the wall.

Slowly passing by each one, I see that they all seem to be roughly the same.

Each photo depicts a little boy, aging ever so slightly in chronological order, holding a fish.

The little boy in the photo is definitely James.

The last one hanging on the wall depicts him as roughly nineteen years old.

That would make sense if that was around the time Sean was arrested.

Moving on from the wall, I make my way over to the coffee table, where there are more papers laid out.

Sitting down, I sort through the items on the table.

I flip through the magazines and mail and suddenly freeze when I recognize photos.

They are the same ones Ben was leaving on Nikki’s doorstep.

These aren’t the only ones, though. Other photos decorate the table of Nikki alone, Nikki and Amelia together, Nikki and Cora at the bar, and Nikki and me.

James has been following her for quite some time.

Putting the photos down, I move on to what looks like blueprints.

Upon closer inspection, I realize they aren’t just any blueprints but those of the prison where Sean was being held.

There would only be one reason James would have these. It makes sense now.

I flip through a few more items before I stumble on one last photo.

This one is of James as he looks now, only what I don’t expect to see is Sean standing right next to him.

Both of them are standing in front of the cabin, taking a selfie.

This photo is obviously recent, which means Sean has been here.

That’s who must be sleeping in the other room.

If Sean’s in town, then he must know where Nikki is.

But if he’s not in this cabin, then where is he?

It’s too dangerous to be going out in public.

He’s a wanted fugitive; everyone has seen his face.

At that thought, lights flash through the window.

Hello, James. I move quickly, organizing the papers back to how I found them.

The car comes to a stop, and the lights turn off.

Getting up from the couch, I make my way toward the kitchen but stop, pivoting to the laundry room just next to the kitchen.

I close myself inside, gripping the handgun I brought with me closely.

James enters the cabin, talking on the phone with someone I can't hear.

“Yeah, it’s almost ready. Are you almost done there? What time will you be back?”

There’s a pause before he continues.

“Yeah, I’ll be ready by then. Be careful. Make sure no one sees you. Your face is still all over the news. Bye, Dad.”

DAD?! It was never mentioned during the trial that Sean had a son.

I doubt even Nikki knows this. Clearly, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. They’re both pieces of shit.

I half-expected Sean to be with him, but since he isn’t, I have to leave this shitstain alive.

If I alert James to my presence or even kill him now, I might lose Sean forever.

The thought of walking out of here with him still breathing and Sean still missing infuriates me.

I wanted this to be done. I wanted to go back home to Nikki and tell her I killed the man who has haunted her nightmares.

That she truly is safe. But I can’t. I clench my fists around the handgun, imagining walking out of here and up to James, putting a bullet through his brain quickly just to get back to Nikki.

But for now, I wait, calming the fire raging inside me.

I’m so fucking tired of waiting . It’s taking all of me not to punch a hole into the wall next to me.

I hear James rustling around in his room before he enters the bathroom and turns on the shower.

After waiting for roughly 10 minutes, I open the laundry room door and slip out, quietly opening the back door.

Once outside, I jog into the woods, heading for my truck.

I make it without issue, starting it up and heading back to Nikki’s house.

Whatever they are planning, it doesn’t sound good.

From this point on, I can’t let Nikki out of my sight. Finding Sean is priority number one.