Page 92 of Meet Me in the Vines
“I racked up a lot of debt, and when he wired me the money, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t say no,” he cries. I scoff, my eyes hardening like metal. Not an ounce of remorse seeps out of me. I once feared this man, begged for his love. Now when I look at him, shriveled up, small, and weak—I’m stronger without him. Always have been.
“He told me he loved you, and that he was trying to reconcile. But the more I talked to him, the less I wanted to hurt you,” he says, voice trembling. “In no way do I deserve to be a father.Yourfather. But you’re still my kid, and I refused to keep in contact with him.” He stands a little straighter, jutting his chin out. He never moves, keeping our distance from each other like two strangers in passing.
“That made him angry. He snapped, and now the money is gone. I don’t care. I just…I want to make it right. For once,” he stammers, scrubbing a bony hand over his face. There’s that soft gaze again. It doesn’t make me as angry as before, but my walls are up and I don’t plan on bringing them down.
“Please be careful. That’s all I wanted to say. Well, that and…I’m sorry. For everything,” he mutters, a single tear streaking down his face. I grip the gearshift a little tighter as I watch him turn around.
Just as I’m about to shift into reverse, he glances back at me one last time and murmurs, “You’re so beautiful. Just like your mother.”
Dusk is sweeping quickly across the sky as I sit on the futon at the cottage, staring into space. Seeing my dad shook me to my core. I hadn’t expected him to be linked to Kellan at all. The fear that I’d worked so hard to keep away? It’s barging at me with full force and no signs of stopping. The warning my father gave me struck a chord. If he was afraid, he had reason to be. I know Kellan better than anyone. Suddenly, I don’t feel so safe anymore.
I texted Donovan about ten minutes ago, but no response. I lean back with the phone between my legs, checking it over and over for his name to pop up. When I tried calling, it went straight to voicemail.
I pick up and call again.
“Hi, you’ve reached Donovan Ki—”I hang up, grunting in frustration.
To pass the time, I scrounge for my laptop and find it stuffed in my duffle bag. I set it on my lap, pull up the web browser, and type into the search bar: “Kellan Vanguard Events.”
An article from two days ago shows a picture of Kellan with his parents at a gala. In all the years we were together, I’ve only spoken to his parents a handful of times. Looking at his picture seems like a distant dream—or nightmare, rather. My insides twist when I see a scar above his eyebrow where I smashed a vase on him.
I find nothing more about him other than this picture. He’s smiling, putting on a show for everyone, per usual. He’d mingle,turn on the charm, caress my cheek in front of the important New York elite, then leave a bruise on it later that same night.
I shudder at the thought. How I lived my life like that for so long. How I loved him and trusted that he’d take care of me. I shut the computer with a bang, tossing it off of my lap. I pick up the phone again and check Donovan’s text thread. Delivered.
“Ugh,” I grunt, quickly standing to my feet, pacing the length of the living room. I think back to my dad’s words.
“The more I talked to him, the less I wanted to hurt you.”
“That made him angry.”
“He snapped.”
What could Kellan have possibly said to my dad for him to halt his plan? My mind is spiraling, and I find it more difficult to gain control. I lean back against the wall, gripping my hair like I want to rip it out of my head. Why does Kellan have this hold on me still? Why can’t he let me go?
Goddamn it, let me go!
The grief I feel is not from my years wasted with Kellan or being betrayed by Donovan. It’s grief for my spirit. I’m losing myself piece by piece until eventually, I fade into nothing. Just when I think I’m ten steps ahead, life takes its whip and lashes me twenty steps back.
My head snaps toward the door when I hear footsteps approaching.
Donovan.
My heart practically leaps out of my chest, and all of my fear vanishes, knowing that the moment I step into his arms, I’m safe. I stride hastily toward the door, not able to bite back the beaming smile on my face. God, I missed him so much.
I grab the handle and fling the door open, breathless and yearning.
“Donov—”
“Hello, little bird.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
DONOVAN/AUDREY
DONOVAN
My tires skid against the gravel in front of Audrey’s cottage. An unfamiliar sedan is parked outside next to her Jeep with California license plates. Not Tia. Ted? Chief said they identified his car leaving town. Can’t be him. I throw the gear into park, swinging my car door open as my dad pulls in behind me.
