by Rose Wulf
Unless he’s got his own stalkers.
The thought popped into her head like a bug suddenly dropping from the sky. She hadn’t been expecting it and it startled her. Even once she’d wrapped her mind around the idea, initially rolling her eyes and laughing it off, she found herself flustered. Vaughn Prescott was a gorgeous man. Gorgeous, wealthy, intelligent, and aloof—a combination that tended to catch most girls’ attention without even trying. He’d had a couple of short-term relationships that Angela knew about in the past—and she’d never liked the girls. They’d always seemed too clingy and fake for him. It hadn’t generally taken him long to agree. But those same kinds of girls didn’t often take “no” very well. What if he’d rejected someone recently and she was harassing him now?
The thought instantly reignited the irritation in her veins and Angela’s hands clenched on the steering wheel.
“Wow, Angela,” she mumbled to herself when she realized how absurdly she’d reacted. She eased her car to a stop at the curb in front of a nice, new house with a still-clean for sale sign on the lawn and cut the engine. Shaking her head, Angela leaned back to stare at her roof. “You really can’t go getting territorial over a guy who’s never been yours.” Thank goodness Hilary wasn’t around to be witnessing this, either. She’d never live it down.
Still … there was probably something to that reaction she should take note of. She’d always attributed her dislike of Vaughn’s girlfriends to some level of jealousy. It was something she’d tried very hard not to think about. She’d also always felt a certain gratification every time she outlasted the new girl in his life. That was probably a terrible thing to admit, honestly. Once, she’d gone so far as to smile sweetly and wave when she’d passed one of those exes in the hall on campus two short weeks after Vaughn had dumped her. The woman had glared daggers at Angela before turning her nose to the air and walking away. The satisfaction that had given Angela was a guilty secret she never told a single soul about for fear admitting it aloud would drop a karmic piano on her head. Now she wondered if ignoring all those reactions and jealous feelings had been the wrong move.
God knows dating Geoff was the wrong move.
How different would the past two years have been if she hadn’t chickened out about asking Vaughn out? Would he have agreed? Would they still be friends?
“You’re spacing out again,” a muffled male voice teased through her driver’s side window, startling her back to the moment.
Angela jerked, cheeks reddening, and found herself once again blinking up, through the glass, at Vaughn. This time, it was daylight, he was grinning oh-so-slightly, and she’d been expecting him, so she really had no excuse. Angela shook her head at herself, climbed from her car, and beeped it locked, attempting to play it casual. “Hey, don’t blame me for you taking so long.”
He arched a brow at her and slipped his hands into his denim pockets. “Uh-huh. ’Cause it took me all of eight minutes. Forty seconds of which I spent debating whether or not I should record the weird expressions on your face.”
Angela paled. “You did not!” Oh, please no!
Vaughn held her panicked stare for several long seconds, his expression unreadable. Then one corner of his lips kicked up and he assured her, “Oh, I debated. But I decided to let you off with a warning this time.”
An exasperated, amused rush of air escaped her lungs and Angela turned her back to him. She started toward the lawn of the house, saying, “You can be such a jerk sometimes, Vaughn Prescott.”
“So I’ve been told,” he replied predictably. He lapsed into silence for the two or three seconds it took him to catch up to her before calmly asking, “Did you remember to make an appointment with the realtor?” She could tell from his tone he knew the answer.
Angela paused mid-stride, barely five feet from the pretty stone steps leading to the front door. “Um … no?” Crap. “I have to do that, don’t I?”
“It might help a little.”
Angela sighed, turned, tugged her phone from her pocket, and started toward the sign with the necessary phone number. I wanted to kill some time, right? Which reminded her of something she’d wanted to ask, but first she figured she ought to make her call. Vaughn rejoined her, standing barely arm’s length away, and didn’t make a sound or crack any kind of teasing smirk while she spoke to the older woman on the other end of the line. Angela still got the distinct impression he was laughing at her.
“She’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” Angela announced triumphantly as she returned her phone to her pocket and shifted to face him. Before he could comment, she continued, “And it’s rude to laugh at people.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vaughn replied evenly, his blue eyes dancing with mirth.
Angela rolled her eyes, subconsciously cocked her hip, and opted to plow ahead. “So, what was going on with you earlier?”
Vaughn stared at her for a beat before a nearly inaudible sigh escaped him and he lifted one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I have a new roommate,” he declared, exasperation heavy in his voice.
Thrown completely off by his response, Angela stuttered, “A … what? Who?” She’d always thought Vaughn preferred living alone. Who on earth would he have let move in with him? Aside from his family, who had a perfectly nice house, she couldn’t think of anyone. Unless— What if he had some kind of secret girlfriend who’d insisted on going public with their relationship? Or who he’d decided to get more serious with, but maybe they’d just had an argument? It was probably none of her business to push for those kinds of details, and in all honesty, she didn’t want those particular kinds of details. But at the same time, she felt like she needed to know. And she really, really didn’t want this mysterious new roommate to be a girlfriend. She just couldn’t think of any scenario that made more sense. A coworker, maybe? She was pretty sure he didn’t love his colleagues, but that option would certainly be preferable in her mind. Unless the coworker was a pretty girl.
“My aunt.”
Of course, if it was another woman, that didn’t automatically mean there had to be anything romantic about the situation. Vaughn valued his privacy, but he wasn’t an asshole. Maybe he was helping someone out. Wait. What was that?
Angela was so wrapped up in trying to solve this unexpected mystery that his response nearly went right over her head. She wasn’t really sure how long it was before her brain processed his words, and then she was left to once again stare awkwardly at him, temporarily speechless. “Y-your aunt?” she finally stuttered. “I’m sorry! It’s just— I didn’t even realize you had an aunt—”
He shook his head, arms falling back to his sides. “I know. I don’t exactly talk about her.”
“Obviously,” Angela said before she could think better of it. “But, then, how is she suddenly living with you? Why is she suddenly living with you?” And when did I get this nosy?
“She showed up at my door last night out of the blue and invited herself in,” he replied, traces of agitation in his voice. “It was either let her in or throw her out on the street. My mom’s gonna go through the roof when she hears.”
“I guess I can see where that would put you in an odd spot,” Angela said slowly. “Does your mom not like her, then? Is she your dad’s sister?”
Vaughn shook his head again, shifted his weight, and lowered himself to the lawn in order to get more comfortable. “My mom’s, actually. Riley’s only ten years older than me, and her personality’s the complete opposite of Mom’s. She was spoiled rotten growing up and, the way Mom tells it, it all went to her head. They pretty much never got along, I guess. I was only ten the last time I actually saw Riley.”
“Wow,” Angela mumbled, settling beside him on the grass. A part of her was surprised to hear there was a rift like that in Vaughn’s family, as he and his parents were so close in so many ways. Mostly, though, she found she was struck by the odd parallels of their situations. “If it’s any consolation,” she finally offered,
“Daniel’s coming in to town tomorrow.”
Vaughn shifted, eyebrows lifting high on his forehead. “The estranged uncle who came back with his tail between his legs a couple years ago?”
Angela’s lips twitched. He was paraphrasing—darn near quoting, actually—her initial description of the scene when Daniel had first reached out to them. She’d been furious and needed someone to vent to, so Hilary and Vaughn had gotten to hear it all. Probably several times over. “Yeah, that’d be the one.”
Silence stretched between them for several seconds before he quietly asked, “How do you feel about that?”
This time, she hesitated. She knew how she felt about his arrival, but how did she explain it? With a sigh, she finally replied, “Upset. Conflicted. Kinda bitchy.” She cut him a sidelong look and teased, “Don’t you dare quote me on that last part, by the way.”
He flashed her a grin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Her lips twitched and her gaze straightened. “Honestly, I’m still mad, but there’s a part of me that feels like I’m not supposed to be anymore. I think Mom feels the same way, but she won’t admit it. Mostly, I wish he’d just stay down in Texas with Uncle Nicholas, or go back to Europe and leave us all alone. But then I have to admit he’s been really helpful with tracking down our family’s records.”
“At least he’s doing something useful,” Vaughn said when she fell silent again.
“Yeah, there’s that.” Pulling her knees up to her chest, Angela asked, “So what’s the deal with Riley? Is there an actual reason she and your mom don’t get along, or is it just because she’s so much younger?”
Vaughn leaned back, bracing his weight on his palms, and hesitated with his answer for a beat. “She’s had some addiction problems,” he admitted. “I bit the bullet this morning and asked her how she’d been doing, because her drug issue is why Mom kicked her out when she lived with us when I was a kid. She swears she’s past it now, but … I guess we’ll see.”
“Yikes,” Angela said with a sympathetic cringe as she watched what she assumed to be the realtor’s car pull up behind hers at the curb. Vaughn’s Audi was parked in front of her, further emphasizing how out of it she’d been when he’d arrived. “That could be a big problem.” She grinned over at him as they both found their feet again, adding, “You could move in with me for a while if you want to get out of it.”
He chuckled, amusement shining back at her with his small smirk, and replied, “Better be careful, Angie. I might just take you up on that.”
They were only joking around, but it still concerned Angela a little how easily the offer had rolled off her tongue. Doubly concerning was the brief thrill that shot through her at his response.
Angela looked at all three still-vacant houses in the new development, and to her delight, Vaughn accompanied her to each one. She made a point of talking in the singular, trying to subtly assure the realtor that he was only tagging along as a friend, but even so, Mrs. Judd made several comments directed toward them both. Angela caught the sixty-four-year-old woman eyeing them with reservation on more than one occasion. It was no secret Mrs. Judd was something of a traditionalist. Rumor had it that was the reason she had never divorced her recently deceased, oft-drunk husband. Angela couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Judd knew about her grandson Jay’s habits with the opposite sex. The more glimpses she caught of the woman’s faint, disapproving frown, the stronger the urge to ask that very question became. But Angela refrained and soon enough, she stood on the curbside watching Mrs. Judd drive away, Vaughn standing calmly beside her.
“Well,” Vaughn began as Mrs. Judd drove out of sight, “that was interesting.” He turned to face her and his lips twitched. “See anything you liked?”
Breaking into another grin of her own, Angela replied, “Maybe.” She glanced down at her watch in an effort to distract herself from the dangerous thoughts dancing through her mind and realized there were still several hours of daylight left. She wasn’t at all ready to call it a day. Since she had the impression he wasn’t, either, she suggested, “Want to do something else? It’s not even three.”
“I’m game,” Vaughn assured her, slipping his hands back into his pockets. “Got anything in mind?”
She met his gaze again with an honest smile and shook her head. “Not a thing.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “Other than not going home, that is.”
He grunted acknowledgment and his keys dangled from between his fingers when his hands emerged again. “Let’s go for a drive, then, and see what strikes us.”
“Sounds fun,” Angela joked, following him back down the sidewalk. “But should we carpool instead? We can drop a car off somewhere.” It made more sense to her than following each other and hoping they could both catch all the same lights, especially since they didn’t have a predetermined destination.
“Sure.” His smirk returned and he added, “I’m driving.”
Angela laughed, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, and Vaughn followed her to her parents’ home long enough for her to park her car and jump into his. Then they were on the road again, still without an actual destination. By the second red light, they decided city traffic was too confining and agreed to wander toward the shoreline.
If nothing else, Angela reasoned, it was an amazing view. And the scenery outside’s not bad, either. Oh, she had a real problem.
“You’re going to scratch up your car,” Angela commented when Vaughn slowed to turn onto an unpaved road that wound deeper into the forest. The road dead-ended a couple of miles out in a clearing over a cliff side with a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean. Angela had gone there many times.
“It’s just a paint job,” Vaughn replied with a partial shrug. “I’m getting tired of this one, anyway.” He said the last as a joke, she was sure, even though the expression she could glimpse of his profile remained entirely casual.
She laughed, turned her gaze forward, and caught sight of a black Bentley turning onto the dirt road behind them. “Looks like we’re not the only ones with this genius idea,” she stated, already looking out the windshield again.
“Genius is always emulated,” Vaughn replied. His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, she assumed to catch a glimpse of the Bentley for himself. “That said, does that car look familiar?”
“It’s a small town,” Angela pointed out. “I pretty much think every car looks familiar.”
“Yeah.” But there was a hesitancy in Vaughn’s voice that was beginning to worry her. A moment ago, his tone had been amused and unconcerned.
“You’re really worried?” she asked, straightening a little in her seat and taking another, longer look at the vehicle in the side mirror. Did he get closer?
“I’ve just got a feeling,” Vaughn said evenly. His hands clenched briefly around the steering wheel, as if his feeling was making him twitchy and restless. It seemed to be contagious, too, because the feeling was extending to her and sinking its claws in.
Angela frowned, her gaze glued to the side mirror, as they rounded a curve in the dirt road. The Bentley had definitely gotten closer, but more importantly, it really was starting to look familiar. And not in a good way.
All of a sudden, she was back in time, standing in a dark garage, a stronger sense of apprehension twisting her gut. The garage had once been part of Eric and Emma’s home, before it—and the rest of the house—burned to the ground. In the peripheral vision of her memory, she could see a second car, the car she’d parked beside. A Bentley. A black Bentley.
Angela sucked in a breath and sat forward in her seat. She’d lost sight of the Bentley again as they rounded another small curve, but it was only a matter of seconds before she’d be able to see it again. To verify what she already knew deep down inside.
“Angie?” Vaughn asked, concern lowering the pitch of his voice. Clearly, he’d heard her gasp.
“I’m not sure,” she hedged without looking away from the mirror, “but I think it’s—”
The words d
ied on her tongue as the Bentley rolled into view, confirming her fears. Too close and moving too fast for her to get out another word before it slammed straight into the Audi’s bumper.
Chapter Six
Vaughn didn’t have time to ask Angela what she’d been about to say. He’d barely even opened his mouth to form the words when black overtook his line of sight in the rearview mirror and the Audi lurched. The impact knocked both Vaughn and Angela forward. He caught a glimpse of her hand latching onto the door panel in an attempt to steady herself even as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. It was safe to assume at this point that she’d been about to warn him of the driver’s identity, which he guessed was Eric. And he couldn’t help but wonder if Eric even knew Angela was in the car with him, or if this was just retribution for their fight.
Focus. It didn’t matter what had prompted this attack. What mattered was keeping them from slamming into any of the surrounding trees.
Angela grunted beside him as the car jumped a large boulder on the side of the unpaved road. Vaughn pumped the brakes and spun the wheel, narrowly avoiding a large, old pine. The interior of the car echoed with the harsh, grating scrape of wood on metal on the passenger side.
He didn’t have time to debate the wisdom of continuing along the dirt road because they’d barely come to a stop when the Bentley collided with them again. Thanks to the new angle, the front of the Bentley slammed into the back half of the driver’s side. Missing Vaughn by too few feet to be comforting.
“Vaughn!” Angela exclaimed, fear lifting her voice.
“Hang on,” he grunted as he did his best to put some distance between the vehicles. He’d gotten a glimpse of Eric behind the wheel of the Bentley that time, leaving no doubt in his mind about the way this was going to have to go. If last night’s confrontation had been stupid, he wasn’t sure what word would best describe what he was about to try. But they couldn’t keep going down the road. There was a cliff at the end with a very large, very deadly drop into the rocky ocean. Continuing in their intended direction was tantamount to suicide.