Blood Vines

CHAPTER SEVENTY

Wednesday, March 17

10:10 P.M.

Moments passed; neither moved. Alex kept ahold of Rachel’s hands.

“Clark,” Rachel said, voice shaking. “That son of a bitch. I always wondered, but-”

“I’m sorry, Rachel.”

“I’m not. I’m thrilled.” Rachel freed her hands and stood. “I’m going to take care of this right now.”

Alex followed her to her feet. “What are you going to do?”

Rachel didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to kill him.”

Alex wanted to laugh. It started to form on her lips, uncomfortable and inappropriate. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’ve got a gun, Alex. I bought it specifically for this. And I’m going to use it.”

Alex’s heart lurched. “Don’t do this, Rachel. It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.”

“You don’t think so? All my life I’ve lived with what they did to me. I hid it away, shoved it into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind. Because I didn’t know who. I do now. And he’s going to pay.”

She started off; Alex went after her. “Wait! What about Dylan?”

Rachel stopped but didn’t look back.

“After I saw Clark’s face, I ran. Back to my bed,” Alex said. “What happened to our brother?”

“He was gone.” Rachel turned. “When I could move, I dragged myself over to where he had been, but he wasn’t there. There was blood.”

The blood the police and FBI found.

“Why didn’t you get help? Why not go to your dad or-”

“And tell them what? That I was spying on them? Tell them what those boys did to me-I was ashamed! I was scared! I didn’t know what to do! I-”

She tipped her face to the ceiling, fighting tears. “I thought… I hoped, Dylan was back in his bed. Who would hurt him? He was such a sweet baby. So I crept back to the house and cleaned myself up. I didn’t even check his crib because… I couldn’t. I prayed he would be there in the morning. I promised myself he would be.”

But he wasn’t.

“I can’t change that, Alex. And I’ve lived with it for twenty-five years. Helpless to change anything. But I can change this. I’m not helpless anymore.”

She turned and started off. “Wait!” Alex called. “What about justice for Dylan? Let’s go to the police. Let’s-”

“This is justice for Dylan,” Rachel said without looking back. “Who do you think killed him? Who did you see standing there?”

“I can’t let you do this.”

“You can’t stop me.”

She turned. Alex caught her breath. She had a gun; she was pointing it at Alex.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Alex. I have to do this.”

“You’re going to shoot me?”

“Only if I have to.”

“We’re stepsisters. Friends-”

“Clark and I are cousins. That didn’t stop him, did it?”

“You’re better than he is! Dammit, Rachel-”

“I’m going now. Don’t follow me.”

She meant it, Alex realized, watching as Rachel walked away. She had to stop her. Had to find a way.

“What about the vines?” she called after her, sounding as desperate as she felt. “What about your wines, your legacy?”

Rachel didn’t answer. The bobbling beam of the flashlight disappeared from sight. Alex counted to ten and started after her-same as she had all those years ago.

She moved as quickly and quietly as she could, forgoing the flashlight for stealth. Her heart pounded, but not with fear this time, with determination.

She wouldn’t let Rachel do this.

Up ahead, she heard Rachel at the cave entrance. Heard the creak of the gate closing and the clank of the chain and padlock.

Rachel was locking her inside the cave.

Alex snapped on the flashlight and ran. She was too late. Rachel had fastened the gate. She stood waiting for Alex, expression apologetic.

“They’ll find you in the morning,” she said. “Don’t be scared.”

“Please, think this through, Rachel. Please, don’t-”

“I’ve spent my whole life thinking this through.”

“Rachel-” Alex reached through the metal rails. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Before I go, I have to tell you something. That baby brush, I have one just like it.”

“What? You-”

“Wayne Reed’s not your father.” Rachel caught her hand, brought it to her mouth, kissed it. “Goodbye, Alex.”