by Jill Patten
Inseparable Strangers
by
Jill Patten
Copyright © 2014 by Jill Patten
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. With the exception of the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
For all of those who believe in spirits whether they’re good or evil.
“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”
— Edgar Allan Poe
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Acknowledgements
About this Author
Chapter 1
“Dad, you can’t expect me to use my shopping money to buy new tires. It’s not fair and you know it,” I whined. Although he couldn’t see me, my bottom lip protruded, nearly rubbing against the phone. It was a natural reaction whenever I manipulated my father into getting my way. The old fart was outwitting my old tricks because this time he wasn’t giving in.
As soon as I backed out of the garage, the heavy sound of rain drops vibrated all around me. From a distance you could see a darker set of clouds rolling in. The trees were already starting to sway as they danced with the wind. A kickass storm was brewing and headed my way. Perfect, my kind of weather — dreary and vengeful.
In his usual calm voice, he said, “Princess, I’ve told you already, the money I give you is yours to spend however you want, but you are responsible for the maintenance on your vehicle. When the car was put in your name, I told you then this is how it was going to be.”
If we weren’t talking over the phone, I would be able to convince him. He could never resist my faux tears. “Dad, you’re not being fair and you know it,” I huffed. It wasn’t my fault he created a monster.
“Princess, I can’t do everything for you forever. You’re old man isn’t going to be here one day. I can’t leave this world thinking my little girl can’t take care of herself.”
Wait. What? Is he hiding something from me? My heart fluttered, and it wasn’t the good kind when you saw a hot guy either. “Dad, are you dying?”
He chuckled into the phone. “No…no. Why would you ask that?”
Relief washed over me. I guess I loved the guy more than I realized. “Well, because you were talking about not being here one day so…it sort of sounded like you could be deathly ill.”
“Well, the last time I visited the doc he told me my blood pressure is the best it’s been in months, so no worries. Hold a second, Len.” His hand must’ve been over the receiver because I could hear a muffled sound of someone talking in the background. “Listen, Lennox, I have patients I need to tend to. Just get the tires so I’ll stop worrying.” Someone was distracting him again. “Look, I really have to go now. I love you, sweetie."
“I love you too, Dad,” I said to dead air.
There could only be one reason he rushed me off the phone — my father’s wife, Pam. The bitch from hell who came into our life and ruined everything after my mother died. I was the only female in his life aside from my mother, leaving me his number one priority until she came along. Everybody knew she only married my father for his money, except him. Even her so-called best friends knew, but they pretended to not notice. She only worked at his pediatric office so she could keep an eye on him. Or, maybe so she could keep an eye on the other nurses. Either way, I hated her and she hated me, so we avoided each other like the plague.
From day one she never accepted me. My blazing red hair put me in the red-headed stepchild category as far as she was concerned. When I was little, kids used to tease me and say I was adopted because my father and I looked nothing alike. She laughed right along with them, until my dad was around. I honestly believed she was the reason I turned into a spiteful bitch, and the reason I never had any friends.
My father could do so much better than her. He was a rightly handsome man, the best pediatrician around, and for a very short time, the most eligible bachelor in town. He had salt and pepper hair, a little on the darker side, and to where I had blue eyes like my mother, his were a rich brown that matched his deep olive skin. My favorite feature of his was a smile that could always make everything better. All Pam had to offer were her fake tits, fake tan, fake face, and her fake-ass smile my dad paid for.
As I turned onto the entrance ramp, I flipped the volume up loud enough to drown out the torrential rain and swishing wipers. My stereo blared out tunes from Avenged Sevenfold as I traveled down the wet country highway. Surprisingly there weren’t many cars on the road, they either knew to get out of my way or the storm could have something to do with it, either way I was happy to have the road to myself. Touching up my make-up while driving hadn’t even slowed me down. It was one of those kinds of days. The kind where I needed something to match the mood I was in. No thanks to my dad and the bitch. Just like my insides, the weather was fierce with raging thunder.
I couldn’t get over it; my dad putting the lockdown on my cash flow. Really? Once again, my dad was being his typical bastard self. Coming from old money, he had more cash than he knew what to do with, and he couldn’t give me a measly five hundred dollars for two new tires? Pocket change. That’s all it was to him. If he told me one more time that I needed to be more accountable for myself, or I should be responsible for the maintenance on my car, I would put a bullet to my head. Well, not really, I loved myself too much to purposely inflict injury, but I would consider it for a minute or two. He couldn’t cater to my needs for twenty four solid years, then expect to cut me off cold turkey. It was complete and utter bullshit. He probably thought because my cousin, Victoria was coming in town to visit for a couple of weeks that I would spend every dime I owned on shopping. So what if we did? It was my money and I could spend it however I damned well pleased. I should’ve asked him while Pam was conveniently away.
This was one of those times I wished I had my mother. She would understand my obsession with shopping. She would tell my father he was being unreasonable and make him understand all men are supposed to take care of the vehicle maintenance while women make themselves look pretty for their men. Not that I had a man, but still, you never knew when Mr. Right would pop up.
Fine, let him deal with the grief of sending me to my possible death via hydroplaning. Even if I wasn’t injured, I knew he would be devastated if I ended up stranded on the side of the road in these conditions. Sort of like that loser I just passed hitching a ride. Who in their right mind would be walking out in this kind of weather? And who in their right mind would pick up someone who looked as disgusting as he did? Was it that hard f
or people to get a job? What a waste of space. . I mean, seriously, society should rid themselves of all that scum just like they did in that movie, The Purge. Most people were appalled by the film, but I found the idea brilliant.
Last year my father had his office broken into by a group of homeless hoodlums who were looking for prescription drugs. Luckily, they were caught two days later while breaking into another private practice. I still lived in fear for weeks later because not only had they stolen meds, they’d also rummaged through tons of personal files of my fathers, and I was terrified they knew where I lived. Just more proof why we should drop them off the side of the earth.
“Ahh!” I screamed from the loud pop that just pierced through my heart. My car jerked to the left, but I quickly turned the tires to my right, and pressed on the brakes hard. From there on, I wasn’t sure what happened until I came to with an aching headache. Reaching up, I rubbed the sore spot on my forehead. When I pulled my hand away, there was blood all over my fingertips. I flipped the sun visor down and examined my injury in the small mirror. Rolling my eyes, I blew out an exasperated breath. “Great. Now I’m going to have a fucking scar. Isn’t that just lovely,” I said to myself. My father had told me a million times not to put the seatbelt strap under my armpit. I guess sometimes he did know what he was talking about. Of course I would never tell him that.
Somehow, I managed to avoid hitting the guardrail. Kind of odd when I couldn’t remember what happened from the time I heard the loud blasting sound to the moment my car stopped on the side of the road. The big man upstairs must’ve been looking out for me, because how else would I have missed it while being unconscious?
With a shaky hand, I turned the ignition, and killed the engine. I draped my arm over the steering wheel and rested my head against it as I tried to calm my precarious nerves. “Ouch!” I’d already forgotten about the cut above my eyebrow. I was still in shock that I’d survived something that could’ve ended so horrific. “What the hell just happened,” I muttered to myself. A warm sensation came over me causing my insides to feel numb. Never had I been so scared in my life. I literally wanted to cry. Calm down…you’re okay, just breathe.
After taking several deep breaths, the numbness slowly dissipated, and I flopped back in my seat with my eyes closed. The rain pelted against my car so hard it made me wonder if it was hailing instead. Suddenly, it dawned on me what happened. My tires. A tire must’ve blown. That was the only explanation for the sound of a gun going off. Maybe dad knew what he was talking about after all. I guess I should’ve had those tires replaced before now. That’s twice now. Ugh! I hate it when he’s right.
Looking over at my empty passenger seat, I leaned over toward the floor board in search for my phone. Once I found it, I frantically hit the button to bring up my contacts. Shit! It was dead. I held the power button in hopes of finding one percent of life left in it, but to no avail, I was screwed. My phone beeped before my dad had called indicating my battery was low, but I didn’t check to see just how low it was.
As I sat in a panic, I remembered the car charger I kept in my glove box. Thank God I’m so smart and responsible. Digging my hand through the layers of napkins and extra fast food straws, I came up empty handed.
“What the fucking hell!” I screamed out in the small confines of my car. A shot of pain sizzled through my head causing me to wince. A massive migraine was beginning to build up. The beige dashboard took the brunt of my aggression as I repeatedly beat my fist against it. Not only could I not call for help, I also wasn’t able to let Victoria know I wouldn’t be making our dinner date.
The windows began to fog up, and the rain washed down the glass in masses causing my surroundings to blur. How could I have been so stupid to not charge my phone? Where the hell was my charger? I opened up the console in hopes of finding it there, but it was only full of lotion, Kleenex, and hand sanitizer. Staying clean and moisturized wasn’t going to help me survive in this situation. Pulling a couple of tissues out, I dabbed them over the cut on my head.
I sat in the car listening to the clouds battle it out as loud claps of lightning lit up the sky like the Fourth of July. I was stuck, unable to do anything until the storm blew past. It was late September, and Fall storms always seemed to be so picturesque and long. I worried the storms would continue on in their dramatic fashion throughout the night leaving me here even longer.
A pecking against the driver’s window startled me from my thoughts. I jumped back from the blurred figure standing beside my car. Oh hell no, I was not opening the door for any scum dumb enough to be walking the highways as night drew over the horizon. Oh, God. He’s going to kill me. Moving before my brain registered what to do, I hit the door lock button to secure myself.
Wrapped up in an old ragged, brown coat, it looked like the person standing outside my door was a man. His hair looked to be brown, wet and matted. Eww. The downpour of rain made it unable to tell if his hair was in dreads, or if it was just mangled from living in filth. His beard was long with kinky curls, resembling those men from the Duck Dynasty show everybody in my small town raved about. He wore one of those mesh truck driver hats down low on his forehead, making it nearly impossible to see his eyes. It was the hitchhiker I passed right before my tire blew. Holy shit, how could I have forgotten about him?
Knuckles knocked against my window again. Stricken with fear, and momentary lapse of memory, I looked to my phone for help. Of course my phone would be dead in a moment like this. Finally giving into my situation, I toss the traitorous thing over to the passenger seat. My heart accelerated in my chest as fear settled in, and my head started to throb. Any other time a State Trooper would be patrolling this stretch of road. Any other time, I would have a phone with battery life too. Rainy days kept everyone inside except for my idiotic self. How was I going to escape this freak? I couldn’t just sit here and ignore him. He obviously had nowhere to go and I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Maybe, if I ignored him he would go away. Maybe, if I held up my phone and threatened to call the cops he would move along. Yeah right, that’s a smart idea after he just watched you toss it in the seat. Maybe if I reached into my glove box and pretended to have a gun he’d be scared enough to disappear.
Oh hell, who was I kidding? I was going to die right here in this stupid car with stupid bald tires. Fuck worrying about surviving a near fatal accident; I was going to be this guy’s next victim. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. Promising to God if he helped me get out alive, I would get a job and never take my father for granted again. I would never speak another harsh word about those less fortunate. “Please, dear God, don’t let this freak kill me. Amen,” I whispered, and then opened my eyes.
My head fell back against the headrest, and in my peripheral vision the guy still stood in the rain, waiting for me to acknowledge him. His long, ragged coat was soaked, and rain poured off the brim of his hat.
“Please go away. My car broke down and I don’t have any money,” I hoped the panic on my face wasn’t obvious. Thankfully, the raindrops on my window somewhat marred my reflection. “The cops should be here any second,” I yelled, hoping he was able to hear me over the heavy rainfall. Do not make eye contact.
He said something back but I was unable to distinguish his words. His voice sounded muffled through all that damn facial hair. He moved his hands in a small circular motion. Was he doing sign language? What was he trying to say? When I ignored him, he tapped his finger against the window and motioned his thumb down. Was he crazy? Did he actually think I was stupid enough to roll my window down and let him murder me? Hell no.
“I’m okay. The cops are on their way to help me. Thank you for stopping though,” I yelled out to him, hoping he got the hint. I pulled my eyebrows together for a second as another pain shot through my head.
“I can help you,” I thought I heard him say.
Was he serious right now? Did he seriously think I was going to open my do
or for him?
As if he read my thoughts, he yelled over the wind and rain, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help you.” He leaned down to my window giving me a perfect view of his endless green eyes. I was still unable to make out the rest of his features, but his eyes stared back at me with shiny, but eerie kindness. “If you have a spare tire and a jack, I can change that blown piece of rubber for you,” he offered.
Did God hear my prayer and send me another angel? Nobody was this nice. Nobody. He’s probably thinking I’ll reward him. A light bulb went off. That’s it, he wants money.
Feeling brave enough to have a conversation with the stranger, I shouted loud enough for him to hear me. “How do I know you’re not some crazed serial killer?”
He held his hands in front of him to show no harm. “Listen, Miss, I have no intentions of hurting you. I see you are in a tough situation, so I thought I would offer my help. If you want to sit here all night and wait out the storms, fine by me. I’ll be happy to leave. If you want to get to wherever you were going in such a hurry, then pop the trunk so I can change that tire for you.” His tone was cordial, but the way he threw that slur about me being in a hurry left me feeling annoyed. Is he upset because I didn’t stop for him? Is he bothered that I became a roadblock in his path going to who-the-hell-cared?
His hidden mouth made it difficult for me to read him. His gentle eyes seemed harmless enough. Without getting a better look at his facial features, I wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable in believing his friendly intentions. My motto was an eye for an eye. An old saying I’d learned fast during my days of high school. Since I blew right by him walking in this treacherous weather, he might cut my brake lines just for shits and giggles. You couldn’t trust people in today’s world. No thanks to people like him, I was the devil in disguise; I knew how this type of shit worked.
Reluctantly, I pushed the trunk release button. The stranger stepped toward the back of my car when he heard the trunk pop open. My car slightly shook as the man rummaged through what I was assuming my leftover shopping bags, piles of clothes, and shoes to find the spare tire and jack.
