The light was fading. It was late afternoon, and soon the daylight would turn to evening.
Robert stopped what he was doing, wiping his hands on the hand towel, and headed out the back door. Where was Angela? He thought then remembered where the last place she had been was picking grapes. He made a beeline for the grapevine.
He heard it before he saw it, muffled voices, moans. His heart pounded in his ears, his body grew stiff. He ran, dodging through vines towards the sound. It couldn’t be what it sounded like…
It was. Angela and Nicolas. His vision went red.
For Friday Fictioneers.