Page 4 of Surrender to Me

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Page 4 of Surrender to Me

Chapter 3

After we had arrived in Orange County, I had used my inheritance money from Grayson to get my mother a new car. Much to my mother’s chagrin, I had taken primary care of our old and trusty sedan. With my essentials packed and the rest donated, I sat in the front seat, buckled up, watching as my mother carried a plastic container of pistachio and cranberry cookies to the window.

“Road snack,” Regina said, winking. “Call me when you get there.”

Once I was past the Grapevine, I was free. The white speckled mountains behind me were soothing, reminding me of the narrow townhome covered hills I was heading towards. I was relieved to be going back, even if I had chosen to follow with my mother. I sometimes felt out of place in my hometown, but not to the extent that I felt like a fish out of water in the Southern California crowd. I knew what was expected of me in the Bay Area. Sure, the Bay Area wasn’t as pristine as Orange County, but it was raw, more real. I would take the stained sidewalks and cigarette-filled gutters over the manicured perfection of Southern California any day.

I was singing along to a road trip playlist I had made when I saw a familiar pair of eyes staring at me in my rearview mirror. In shock, I almost drove off the road. Owen shook his head, scolding me with a single look. He muttered to himself. I watched the road, but I kept looking at the rearview mirror, wanting to confirm that yes, that was Owen Lowell following me home. I didn’t know how to react. Somehow, while going eighty-five miles per hour down Highway 5 in the middle of a sunny day, when the pastures around us should’ve dulled those emeralds, his eyes were vibrant, locking me in.

My phone rang, and I answered it on speaker phone, knowing it was him.

“What?” I snarked.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Miss Glass,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have much trouble doing so if you weren’t tailing me like a hawk.”

“This hawk is making sure you get home safe.”

Home? We clicked off. Home. The word echoed in my brain like waves crashing on the sand. Regina had put our house, my childhood home, on the market before leaving. I could technically sleep in one of the rooms, using a sleeping bag or an air mattress, but that seemed silly. I’d have to leave eventually, and I knew that would be soon, since Bay Area real estate was booming. It was better to rent a room or a couch. I called Clay, the only coworker I would call a friend outside of No Doze Cafe.

“Yo,” I said.

Clay chuckled. “What up, betrayer?”

“Got any leads on open rooms?” I asked.

“You’re moving back already?” he said. I heard a woman’s voice in the background, and I smiled, wondering who she was. At six foot three inches and with a head full of curly blond hair, looking somewhere between surfer dude and a Catholic schoolboy, Clay was gorgeous, but he was the awkward kind of sweet, where he didn’t quite know women as well as he knew science. He was pre-med and often blamed that for his lack of relationship success. “You’re in luck,” he said. “Jake’s moving out.”

I fist pumped the air next to me, then shyly looked in the rearview mirror to see if Owen had seen me. He had; he was grinning to himself. That perfect, gorgeous smile with those laugh lines that made me want to squeal in pleasure. I shook my head, focusing on the road in front of me. I would have to deep clean the smell of Jake’s body odor and marijuana out of the walls and carpet, but I knew it would be my best option.

“Will I be the only female presence?” I asked.

“Misty moved in a few months ago.”

“Misty?” I asked. That must’ve been who I had heard. “Who’s Misty?”

“My girlfriend,” Clay said. And with the way he cooed those words, I knew I would like her.

*****

We were about halfway there, four hours in, when we neared an abandoned building. It was two stories and the windows were shattered, the rafters and broken wood exposed. It had never been finished. Get Out While You Still Can! was spray-painted in red letters across the front exterior. It was like a warning to my psyche, telling me to stop letting Owen Lowell dig deeper and deeper into my soul.

My phone rang. I swear he could sense exactly when he needed to interrupt my thoughts.

“I’d like to take you inside of a place like that,” Owen said, “to our left.”

I bit my tongue, holding back the urge to say, So you could have your perverted way with me and leave me to die? But I knew he would never do that. He enjoyed bringing women to their breaking points, but that didn’t mean death. But it was entirely possible that he’d leave me there to be with his ex-fiance. “Why?” I asked. I took a quick breath, knowing that even asking why was indulging him, letting him sink his claws deeper into my skin.

“You’d find inspiration,” he said, and we were back to business as usual. “There was a burned down naval base on the coast that I explored once. It was nothing short of impressive.”

“I’d like that,” I said, imagining it for myself. But the word ‘explore’ made me tinge with jealousy. That was a word he used when it came to women. It seemed like something he would’ve done with another woman. With Poppy.

“I’d like it too,” he said.

There was a brief pause, and the nervousness got to me, or maybe it was my libido. “It seems like a good place to take advantage of someone,” I said. “No one to call for help. No one to hear you.”

He was silent. I looked in the rearview mirror, and he was staring at me, holding me with his gaze, beckoning me to go on. I felt like an insect slowly struggling for life, stuck in amber.




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