Page 91 of Meet Me in the Vines
My heart races immediately, the heavy thud pounding against my chest cavity as my eyes fix on a very familiar black SUV. No. Donovan said that I’m not being followed. The police ruled everything out. Kellan is in New York—he’s forgotten me. This is a silly coincidence.
My eyes nervously flit back and forth from the road to the mirror, the SUV trailing behind. The windows are heavily tinted, making this so much fucking worse. It’s fine.You’re fine.There’s plenty of people in Oakwood Valley who drive a black SUV. It stays a good distance behind me, but my turn into the winery is only a mile up the road. What if Iambeing followed? I don’t want to lead them to my house.
I nibble my bottom lip, sinking my teeth in so deep I make myself bleed. I make the split-second decision to make a random turn off, away from the winery to ease my suspicion. Or confirm it.
I turn right onto a dirt path that leads to what used to be the Taylor’s vineyard. My hands slip on the wheel, damp and clammy from the nerves that have taken over my body. Stay. Calm.
Please don’t turn right.
My eyes lock onto the rearview mirror as I mumble a silent prayer to myself. The thumping moves from my chest to my ears, pulsing so violently that it makes my temples throb. I grind my molars so tight that my jaw clicks, a sharp pain shooting through my neck.
No.
The SUV turns right, just yards behind me.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” I stammer, about ten seconds away from full-blown panic mode.
Stay. Calm.
Suddenly, the SUV picks up speed and zooms past me, my head following it as a cloud of dust engulfs my vision. My throat burns from the dirt, coughing as the SUV cuts in front of me. Its red brake lights flash, and my eyes bulge out in fear as I slam both feet hard into my brake pedal.
“Shit!” I scream, the dust swirling around me, covering the man who steps out of the driver’s side. I frantically try to put the car in reverse, but my hands tremble so badly that I can’t get my bearings.
Audrey, focus.
He approaches my car hastily, his hands up in surrender. His cough is gravelly and dry. His black shirt drapes off him like it’s three times too big, his build fragile and weak. He’s tall, more skeleton than human.
Pepper spray.I fumble with the center console and grip the aerosol can with haste, flipping the top around to point it at the man quickly closing in on me.
As the dust settles, he is standing at the hood of my car with eyes sunken and cheekbones jutting out like he’s malnourished. I point the pepper spray at him, hands shaking, heart beating so hard that I’m breathless.
“Audrey, please don’t! It’s me,” he rasps. His dark brown eyes resemble the color of whiskey. Eyes that I know. Eyes that haunt me in a different way than the ocean blues I wish I were staring at instead. I keep the pepper spray held to his face, not realizing that I’m already crying.
“Dad?” I whimper, not believing what I’m seeing. I blink incessantly, like if I do it enough times, he’ll vanish. Like he did for most of my life.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I need to talk to you,” he pleads, his hands still up in surrender. He looks so different. Sickly. Not at all the man I remember. His hands are smeared in grease and dirt. His face is covered in messy stubble, unkempt and dirty.
“What are you doing here? Wh…h-how?” The questions speed through my mind too fast for me to comprehend. It’s just words flying out of my mouth, incoherent thoughts.
“I’ll explain. Could you just…?” He motions for me to take the pepper spray out of his face. Maybe it’s a moment of weakness, or that I’m in shock that my father stands before me. But I comply and lower the spray from his direction.
“So it was you that followed me the other day? Outside of the store?” I ask, my voice shaky. I will myself to be strong. I clear my throat and steel my spine. I’m not letting this man take another ounce of control in my life.
“Yes,” he admits, his gaze softening, like a father that misses his daughter. That pisses me off.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that. You don’t get to look at me like that. Like you feel sorry for me!” I shout with unshed tears. He doesn’t once wince at the punch in my words, so I give him more. “You don’t get to come here and look at me like you love me!”
I stay glued to my seat, hand on the gearshift, in case I need a quick escape. My car stays running, a gentle hum underneath the heaviness and grit of my words. His expression remains soft, fueling me with more rage. Where the hell was this when I needed him? My whole life?
“You’re right. I’m not here to ask for your forgiveness, Audrey,” he says, his voice just above the hum of my engine. “I’m here to warn you.” His tone is hard and harsh, Warn me? My eyes go wide, the aching throb returning to my temples. I ignore it.
“I was contacted by a man named Kellan Vanguard about a month ago.”
No. No, that can’t be right.
I hold my breath, feeling a familiar pain in my lungs as I stifle my breathing.
“He told me he’d send me fifty thousand dollars to let him know your whereabouts,” he chokes. His eyes are wet, reflecting as the sun falls deeper into the horizon. My entire body is cold, veins frozen at the sounds of Kellan’s name coming from my dad. Another monster in my life.
