Page 2 of Ouch! My Vampire Doms Keep Biting Me
Dale Smith has power. Connections. He’s close to every powerful person in the county and beyond. Before JonBell Tech Solutions was dissolved, he was besties with James Bell andall his sycophants and the politicians supporting them. He has dirt on everyone, and I know this because he brags about it constantly.
I can’t stay here. I know he tolerates me because of the trust my mother left in my name, which is under his stewardship. But if I were to disappear, die? Dale might find the right lawyer to get it into his own name. My mom’s money—mymoney—would be under his control.
I stumble to my closet, my chest tight with panic. I can only grab a few things. My car is in the driveway. Dale will see it when he goes around the side of the house. He’ll realize I’ve been home.
He’ll wonder what I saw.
Jeans. A couple pairs of underwear, an extra bra. A t-shirt, a hoodie. They all go into the leather messenger bag that used to belong to my mom, the one I carry around for my laptop even though Dale is always harassing me to replace it with something “classier.” I leave the laptop behind—there’s no room for it. I step into my en-suite bathroom and gather a few essentials, stuffing them into the bag as well.
I’m wearing leggings and my favorite band t-shirt that I sleep in. It’ll have to do for now.
A quick check out the window. Dale is leaning back on a lounge chair, trying to sound winded while he tells the dispatcher how hard he’s working on chest compressions for his fallen friend. What a fucking fraud.
I slip down the hall on silent feet, then creep down the stairs. My flip-flops are next to the garage door and I slide them on as I leave.
Out through the garage, to the driveway where my lemon-yellow Karmann Ghia is waiting. Dale’s going to hear the engine when I turn it on, but maybe he’ll think it’s the approaching ambulance. I could wait for the ambulance to arrive and get outunder the cover of its sirens, but there’s a chance Dale might come out to meet it. I can’t risk him seeing me. As far as he’s concerned, I was never here.
“Be brave, Autumn.”
I know it isn’t my mom talking to me. But her voice is as clear as if she’s sitting next to me in the passenger’s seat. She died ten years ago, when I was fifteen. This was her car, and I’ve always felt closer to her when I drive it.
Taking a deep breath, I start the engine. I put the car into gear and roll forward, around the circular end of our driveway.
“Autumn!” Dale shouts, striding toward me from the side of the house. “I didn’t know you were home.”
Can I pretend I just got here? No. I’m wearing pajamas.
What was I thinking? He’ll review the security footage, he’ll find out that I was home, in my room, while he was killing Marcus Patrick. He’ll guess that I saw the whole thing.
Frozen with fear, I don’t move as he reaches the window and knocks on it.
Rolling the window down, I fake a smile and say, “I just remembered I left my purse at the restaurant. They’re holding it for me, so I’ll be right back.”
His gaze flicks past me to the passenger’s seat, where my purse sits like an accusation.
“Myotherpurse,” I say.
Dale’s blue eyes, “beautiful baby blues” as Mom used to call them, harden into chips of ice. “I don’t believe you.”
Before I can react, his hand is on my wrist, clenching so hard I immediately know it will leave bruises.
I shouldn’t have opened the window so far. Stupid. I wasn’t thinking.
“Ow,” I say. “That hurts, Dale.”
“Get out of this car right now,” he says.
“Um, sure.”
He relaxes his hold, but doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t believe me.
I’ve always been a terrible liar.
I don’t know what it’ll mean for my arm, but I hit the gas.
He doesn’t let go at first, and his grip tightens before it’s wrenched away.
I gasp at the pain. My car fishtails over the fine gravel driveway before straightening. I speed toward the end, down the path lined with evenly-spaced walnut trees and lush lavender bushes. When will I be able to come back here, to the house my parents raised me in? Maybe never. Even if I go somewhere else and try to explain what my stepfather has done, I don’t think anyone will really listen or care. He’s untouchable.
