Page 76 of Searching for Hope

I step forward hesitantly, scared of what I’m about to see. “Dominic?”

Dominic’s eyes widen. They dart between me, Jericho and his father who lies bloodied and bruised on the floor, and then he turns and flees down the hallway, but not before I notice the faint scratches over his face. Jericho looks to Keating and then takes after Dominic, chasing him down the hall.

“You know him?” Barrett asks.

“He’s a friend, dance friend,” I clarify, before chasing after Barrett who’s taken off after Jericho.

Everything comes flooding back from the night I spent with Dominic, here in this house. We came in through the garage, which is why I didn’t immediately remember the place, but as I run down the hallway, the familiar family photos flash past me.

There must be some sort of mistake. This must all be some strange coincidence. But I don’t have time to think as Barrett and I run up the stairs, chasing Jericho. Dominic has barricaded himself in his room. Jericho is shoulder barging the door.

“Jericho, please,” I beg, attempting to pull him back. But he rips away from my grip, sending me sprawling to the floor.

“She’s here,” he growls. “I just know it.”

“This must be some sort of mistake,” I plead. “Gorman must have done this on purpose. He must have known—”

The door splinters and cracks, falling under the force of Jericho’s weight. Dominic stands in the middle of the room, eyes wide, hands held out in front of him as though it will somehow stop Jericho’s onslaught. There’s fear and confusion in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” He takes a step backward. “Why is—”

Jericho advances, throwing a punch that Dominic somehow manages to dodge. He looks over at me desperately, hands held up as though he can hold Jericho at bay.

“Berkley,” he pleads. “Tell me what’s going on.” He leaps over the bed, narrowly avoiding being grabbed by Jericho.

“Where is she?” Jericho bellows.

Dominic stands near the window, eyes darting between me and Jericho. “She’s not here! Hope’s not here!” He looks to me desperately. “Berkley, tell him to stop before he hurts me! I don’t even know what you’re doing here. Why are you here?”

Jericho stops in his tracks.

“How do you know who we’re looking for?”

Dominic’s lip twitches. His eyes dart toward the bathroom door and my heart sinks.

“Dominic, no.” The words rush out of me in a gush of air.

A bloodied Keating appears in the doorway, the rifle back in his hands. He takes aim, pointing it at Jericho as Dominic’s mother appears blurry-eyed behind him. She gasps, her hands flying to cover her face.

“What the fuck is going on!” Keating roars. He swings the rifle between Jericho and Barrett, threatening them if they move.

“Where is Hope?” Jericho growls.

“I told you she isn’t here.” Keating turns to his wife. “Mary, you need to call the police. Dominic, come toward me.” He waves the rifle as though Dominic doesn’t know which direction to go and requires guidance.

“I think everyone needs to take a deep breath and calm down,” Barrett says with his hands held out and open, trying to calm the situation. “This is why we shouldn’t have—”

“Fuck up, Barrett,” Jericho snaps.

“Call the police!” Keating screams at his wife.

“Don’t fucking move,” Jericho warns, even though he’s the one with a rifle pointed at him.

Mary bursts into tears. “Who are you people? What do you want?” She starts grabbing at her bracelets, pulling them from her wrists. “Here, take them.” She shoves them at Barrett. “Take anything you want, just leave me and my family alone.”

“We’re not here for your money. We’re here for Hope,” Jericho snarls.

“Hope?” Mary looks desperately at her husband. “What is he talking about? Hope is dead.”

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