Page 57 of Dolls & Daggers
Reaching out, I twirl a lock of bubblegum-and-vanilla hair around my finger. “What do I have to do to make it up to you?”
From my angle, I see her eyes flicker away from the screen. But instead of relaxing into my touch, she stiffens, edging away. “I’m trying to work, Wren.”
Still pissed.
Pointtaken.
Or maybe she’s pushing you away because you hurt her.
But Dove said some things that weren’t exactly kind, either. Calling me an emotional woman when I was just trying to explain the unfairness of her making me think I had a chance at publishing a Doll article? Yeah. Not my favorite moment.
Still. I get it. She’s clawed her way to success in a male-dominated field.
“Okay.” I lean down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, inhaling the sugary scent of her shampoo. “I’m here. When you’re ready to talk.”
She hums noncommittally, and it spears through my chest like the tip of her dagger—if sheisthe Doll.
Back in my office, I pull up the tracker app to confirm it’s working and pray to God she doesn’t smoke before Monday. I need to know if she’s telling the truth about her mother. Or if there’s a more nefarious reason she’s lying.
One that involves babydoll nighties and a mask that haunts my dreams.
Well.She’s definitely lying about her mom.
Saturday evening, I follow Dove to an isolated areabetween Poughkeepsie and Hyde Park. I spend the long drive convincing myself that maybe she’s meeting her mother somewhere outside the city. Or that she’s working over the weekend, hunting a lead.
But when her rented black sedan parks outside the seediest motel I’ve ever seen—the kind with metal keys instead of keycards—I know she’s not here for a family visit.
A slow, crawling anticipation settles over me as I watch her haul a sizable black duffel into a room, surveying her surroundings like she’s mapping easy exit strategies should things take a turn and she needs to flee quickly.
With every passing second that brings me closer to the truth, I become more certain.
I’m watching the girl of my dreams set up for a murder.
Inky black darkness settles over the sky, the stars winking to life one by one, like glittering diamonds as the night grows longer. Parked in the vacant lot of a run-down store next to the hotel, I watch through binoculars.
I nearly text her and ask how things are going with her mom, but she’s not talking to me anyway, so I know it won’t matter even if I do. My phone sits abandoned in the cup holder, the screen lighting up now and then with messages from Hunter checking in.He’s staking out Bunny’s newest date and apparently, this one actually has him worried. I feel slightly bad I’m not there. But he thinks I’m chasing a lead upstate.
Which… technically, I am.
Technically,this is a type of lead. It didn’t seem like there was much in Dove’s bag, though. Is her costume in there? Her weapons? Whatever it is she paints on her skin to avoid leaving DNA all over the place?
At this point, I know she doesn’t film every encounter, and there’s no way professional film equipment would fit in the bag with everything else. So, unless she’s recording on her phone, I don’t think tonight is the type of confrontation she documents.
My thoughts shift to my ever-present question of why she sends videos to the police. Yes, they have the victim’s personal information, but what is the point of the show? So they can see that she catches more pedophiles than they could ever hope to? Or does she just enjoy the song and dance—pun intended.
An older-model silver Tacoma with a black bed cap pulls up beside Dove’s sedan, interrupting my rambling thoughts as I try to deconstruct her purpose for doing things the way she does.
The beast inside me roars to life when I see a man step out, dressed in black, with a baseball cap pulled low. Even through the binoculars, I have to squint to see his face.
Is that…?
No.
“No. She wouldn’t do that to me,” I say out loud, trying to convince myself that what I’m looking at is a trick of the light and not cruel reality staring me in the face.
Fucking Ryan.
Hunter said Ryan was suspended after what he pulled at the bar. Even if I deserved a punch, shoving Dove sealed his fate. That’s what ultimately landed him in the most trouble.
