Page 8 of Paths

The next thing I know, I see stars…

I jerk awake, pain shooting through my shoulder from my body wracking. The remote goes flying, hitting the floor, and when I look up, game highlights are on the screen.

Fuck. The dreams won’t stop.

I’ve never needed a lot of sleep to function, even to be on my game. But I can’t say I’ve ever been afraid of sleep. Hell, I’ve never been afraid of anything.

I look at my phone and it’s early. I must have drifted off after dinner. The days are so damn long sitting around here, but the nights are even longer. They last for-fucking-ever.

The cameras ding, telling me there’s movement in the woods, and when I open the app, there are multiple alerts. It’s probably what woke me, not that I mind. Ever since Crew and I got back to the States, my shithead father invades my dreams. Fifteen years later, from the grave, he’s still fucking with me. After all this time, his tormenting doesn’t stop.

Because of Crew’s business and training the up-and-coming assassins, this property has got to be one of the most heavily secured pieces of land outside of the beltway. When Crew made Addy his, he extended that security to the vineyard, too. The alerts mean the cameras and sensors have picked up something in the woods, and like it does every time since I’ve returned from the assignment from hell, it makes my insides tighten.

When I click to the cameras, there she is—running.

Always running. I almost missed it.

I should turn off my phone and give her privacy. She has no idea every time she runs, I can’t take my eyes off her.

Seeing her face as she moves quickly through the trails of the vineyard, she’s focused and deep in thought, different than how she looks when she’s working in the tasting room. There, she’s antsy—even nervous.

Just like every time I watch her over the cameras—which is everyday—no matter if she’s coming, going, running, or sitting on her porch, I know I shouldn’t look, but I do.

I can’t stop.

At first, I realized this made me a slimeball—watching a woman over cameras for pure escapism—but I don’t give a shit. If I wasn’t worried about being a slimeball, I should be really fucking worried about my mental capacity that I’m watching her and don’t care.

But I adjust the cameras and do what I do every day. I watch so I don’t think about anything else.

Nothing but her.

*****

Maya –

“I just talked to Morris. Next year I want to go bigger and better in the fall. The Thanksgiving tasting was such a hit—I want to start earlier in October. In the spring, we’ll plant a pumpkin patch for kids and only request a donation to go to charity. Expanding the menu to include some kid-friendly meals or treats might be a good addition. Maybe it will give adults another reason to visit.”

Addy is filling Evan and me in on her plans for next year. I worked hard to become a physical therapist and never planned to wait tables. It sort of makes me sad to think I might not be here next year to experience her bigger and better plans. I don’t know what I expected when I left, but the longer I’m here, the easier it is to breathe, not to mention, I like it. I’m not sure I can make it a whole year without needing to move on. Deep down, I hope I get to stay.

It’s Friday and the tasting room is becoming more crowded by the hour. Thanksgiving was just last week and Addy has the place decked for Christmas. There are trees everywhere and they’re decorated solely with wine and deer-related ornaments that are all for sale. She even mixed in some cows.

I grew up in the suburbs and have never been around livestock before. Addy sure loves her cows. When she found out I’m a runner, Addy invited me to walk with her and the cows in the mornings, but I’m usually at the Ranch by that time. Plus, as cute as they are from far away, they smell exactly how one would expect a cow to smell—like a cow.

I’ve passed on walking with the cows and stuck to my late-evening runs. It’s dark, and out here in the middle of nowhere with no city lights, it’s really dark. I stay on Addy’s property, but I can’t say it doesn’t freak me out to run in the dark by myself. I can’t afford a treadmill, let alone have room for one in my bungalow.

“Maybe build some fire pits,” Evan offers. “If it’s cold, customers can still be outside and the kids can run around. You can offer s’mores on the menu.”

“Ooh, that’s good. I’ll ask Morris how best to do that. Fire pits beyond the patio should be an easy addition. What do you think, Maya?” Addy asks.

She always catches me off guard when she does that. Asking my opinion—like it matters, since I only wait tables. It’s even worse when she asks me something that would give away any personal details of my life.

I feel my eyes go big and shrug, trying to think of something to add. Pulling from my most recent experience at the Ranch, I offer the only thought that pops into my head. “Maybe some yard games? You know, for the kids and even adults, since you’re trying to entertain them outside.”

“Yeah, you need to up the entertainment,” Evan agrees as he washes glasses and looks to me. “I keep telling her she needs to stay open late a couple nights a month and have live music. They’d come in droves for that.”

Addy sighs. “I know they would, Evan, but I already work six days a week, plus all the events. Crew and I are trying to cut back our hours, not add to them.”

Addy is dating a man named Crew, though I don’t think dating is the right word. He lives with her even though he owns the property next door. I’ve seen him come in with Grady a few times for lunch or dinner, so I assume they know each other. I’ve done my best to stick with my don’t make any friends plan, and I haven’t asked, but I’m so curious it’s becoming a thorn in my side.

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