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I look at my phone sitting on the counter. Still no response to my text.
I check the rice. It can go for about ten more minutes.
Ten more minutes.
I pick up my phone to text Dale again, but something stops me.
It’s my heart. It drops to my stomach.
“Be careful, please. Driving, I mean.”
“I’ve been driving for twenty years.”
“I know, but you’re upset.”
“I’m not that upset.”
“Just come back to me. Promise?”
“I’ll be back. Count on it.”
He made a promise to me. To come back to me. But some promises can’t be kept through no fault of the person making them.
Images splatter into my mind. Dale slumped over his steering wheel. Blood gushing from his nose and mouth. Glass shards splayed over him. Sirens. Wailing sirens.
“No!” I say aloud. “Just no!”
Then the door. Feet clomping.
“Dale!” I run to him, throw myself into his arms.
And all is right in my world once more.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Dale
Ashley’s in my arms.
She’d comfort me if she knew I needed it, but I don’t want comfort right now. I don’t know what I want.
Revenge?
The man’s already dead.
He sold his children.
He sold Donny.
He sold me.
To a bunch of psychopaths who starved us, beat us, raped and humiliated us. I was ten years old, but to hell with me.
Donny was seven. Still a kid. Still slept with that stupid-ass teddy bear.
I used to give him such grief for it. So much I wish I could take back.
So much I can’t even bring myself to think about.
“Hey.” Ashley melts against me, hugging me.
She’s warm. Warm and loving and familiar.
But I don’t want warmth at the moment. I don’t want love.
Familiarity?
Even that doesn’t sound good.
Normally I’d run to my vineyards to seek something with a semblance of tranquility. But even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It’s harvest time. The vineyards belong to everyone during harvest. Usually I accept this, because harvest is my favorite time of year—when the fruits of our labor begin a new journey.
I want something unfamiliar.
I pull back from Ashley. “We need to talk.”
Her blue eyes widen. She’s expecting the worst. She thinks I’m going to dump her. It’s written all over her face.
She’s wrong.
I gave her my word. Two months. I’m nothing without my word. I’ve gone back on my word only once, and I’ll pay for it until the day I die.
“I need a favor,” I say.
“Of course. Anything.”
“I need you to stay here for a few days. Take care of Penny.”
“Well…sure. But where will you be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dale, what’s wrong?”
“Floyd is dead.”
“Oh.” She presses her fingers to her bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” No truer words.
“It’s okay to feel something.”
“Oh, I feel something, all right, but it’s not even close to sorrow.”
She reaches for my hand, but I whisk it away.
“Please,” I say. “Stay here. Take care of my dog. There’s plenty of food in the pantry, fridge, and freezer. Or you can eat at the main house with my parents.”
“Dale, I—”
“Please, Ashley.” I rub furiously at my forehead. “For God’s sake, don’t ask me a bunch of questions I can’t answer. Just promise me you’ll take care of my dog.”
She falls back, her beautiful lips trembling. “Yes, of course. I’ll take care of her. Whatever you need. Always.”
“Thank you.”
“But it’s harvest. We’re just about to—”
“Damn it, Ashley!” I push my fingers through my hair.
Her eyes widen. “You look…”
“What? I look what?”
“Like… Like a lion. Ready to pounce on prey.”
My dick is hard, all right. It always is when Ashley’s around. But if I take her now, it won’t be for love.
It will be in anger and rage about something that has nothing to do with her. Indeed, she has no idea what it even is, and if I have my way, she’ll never know.
Maybe I’m not fit to live with others. Maybe I need to go somewhere, build a life alone. Live like a hermit. Or a nomad. I can wander the world, see all its sights…
I’ve considered this path before, and as much as it appeals to me in some ways, I’ve never followed it. I’ve always thought of others.
And now, I not only have my family to consider, but a woman who…
So I won’t take the path of least resistance. I won’t. But I need these few days, maybe even a week.
I need to go.
“Dale…”
“What? For God’s sake, what?”
“Running away isn’t the answer.”
I don’t respond. She’s right, of course, but what she doesn’t know is that I have no choice. I have to run. If I don’t, I can’t be responsible for what I may do.
“Can you at least tell me where you’re going?” she asks.
She’ll pester me until I give her something, so I reply, “To the mountains.”
“Without Penny?”
“I need to be alone.”
“Please, I—”
“I’m done talking about this. Tell my parents not to worry. I’ll text Uncle Ry that I’m taking a few days off.”
