Ginger: Part 3

#writing #shortstory
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Ginger sat in stunned silence. She hadn’t spoken to her father in... years. She’d thought he was dead. She’d hoped he was dead. What the hell was the man who’d abandoned her at the age of eight doing making calls to people like Vaughn - hell, to anyone - about her?

After he’d left, Ginger’s mother had fallen apart. Susana had spent the majority of every day looking at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what part of herself had driven him away. It had deteriorated into eating disorders and nervous ticks from there. Hours spent in the gym, working on her body, or at her desk, Working on her career, led to less and less sleep and more and more manic behavior.

When she’d fallen asleep behind the wheel of her car and driven off the edge of the freeway just before Ginger’s fourteenth birthday, Ginger had only felt relief. Susana had been a wonderful mother - even at her worst she’d made sure that Ginger never for a second felt like she might be part of the reason her father had left them - but it had been excruciating for Ginger to watch her slowly destroying herself.

Ginger had been bounced through the foster system until she’d aged out two years ago and gained access to the funds Susana had left for her. She’d built a life for herself, made good investments and started studying toward a degree. And through it all she’d heard no word from her father. As far as Ginger was concerned, he was the one who should’ve been in that car.

“Why would he call you?” She spat, “He doesn’t even know me. He ruined my life and I’ll be damned if I just let you make me disappear because he said so. He will not ruin my life a second time.”
Vaughn smiled grimly.
“Dave mentioned you having this kind of a reaction the first time around as well.”
“Aha! So that’s why your lunatic brother abducted me!”

Vaughn laughed, a deep, booming sound that rang in Ginger’s ears and filled all the space around her. It was exactly the type of laugh she would’ve expected him to have.
“You really are something else, Ginger.”
She just stared at him, choosing not to respond. Vaughn sighed.

“Dave really isn’t that bad, he’s just new. If I’m being perfectly fair, from how vehement he said you were, I probably would’ve ended up doing the same.”
Ginger snorted.
“Regardless, it was unnecessary. I don’t need to disappear. I need to go back home and study for the test session I have coming up.”
“Unfortunately, there actually is a very very real threat against you. Disappearing is a good idea.”

Ginger pressed her palms into the scratchy carpet and counted to ten before speaking again.
“Look, Vaughn, you don’t get it. I grew up in the system. No one gives a shit about me. But I’ve built a life for myself. A life I know my mother would’ve been proud of. I will not give that up just because some dirtbag who provided the sperm that made me has decided it would be fun to play dad.”

The way Vaughn stared at her - as though he was assessing her - made Ginger seriously uncomfortable. The hairs on her arms stood up and she was suddenly aware of the chill in the air of the pristine and well lit garage. After ten seconds that dragged into an eternity, he seemed to come to a decision. He meant toward her, a controlled movement that told of resignation and barely restrained irritation, and plucked her from the trunk.
“Let’s go. I’ll prove to you that it’s necessary for you to go along with this.”