Note: This is Season Two of Wasted Love with You, which is LIVE on amazon & Kindle Unlimited. Be sure to read that book first before diving into what’s below.
This is my favorite story of all time for numerous reasons. If you prefer to wait for the edited ebook(s) in its entirety, please do so, and check out one of my live releases in the meantime.
Otherwise, read on and check back weekly for more! <3
Read previous episode(s)
Episode 8: Coldness Unraveling
Autumn
Kylie is pacing in front of a car when I pull into the parking lot.
My headlights wash over her, revealing a new version of the woman I last saw years ago.
No longer a brunette, she’s sporting strawberry-blond hair that’s chopped shoulder length with bangs; her once-hot pink ends are tinged in a soft grey that complements her tracksuit.
I slide my car next to hers, and she rushes to the driver’s side once I open the door.
“Oh god, I thought you’d never arrive!” She pulls me into a much-needed hug.
The familiar scent of her juniper perfume brings a smile to my lips, and I suddenly remember the times we stuffed several stolen bottles into our winter coats.
“You look so good, Autumn.” She hugs me tighter. “So damn good.”
“Thank you, Kylie.” I smile. “You, too.”
“Okay, well…” She slowly lets me go and looks around. “We’ve lost too much time already, and we need to go ahead and switch cars.”
“Huh?”
“This lot doesn’t have any bushes or tree lines like the bar,” she says, pointing to a cement building in the distance. “There’s a parking garage over there. Can you follow me, so we can make the switch?”
“What are you talking about, Kylie?”
“I didn’t want to scare you too much, but I rented this car and bought everything inside it for you.” She walks to the trunk and pops it open. “I have everything you could possibly need for wherever you decide to go next.”
An assortment of black and grey duffle bags, Tupperware containers, and magazines are neatly arranged beside a small suitcase. A shiny metal gun gleams from inside a clear tote.
“It’s not registered to anyone, don’t worry,” she says, taking it out and running a finger along its barrel. “My dad has always sworn by this model for me and my mom.”
I stare at the gun as she checks the chamber.
It’s fully loaded…
“Kylie, I’m confused.” I pick up the top magazine, The Best Hidden Places in America. “I thought you insisted on driving all this way to tell me whatever words you couldn’t say over the phone.”
“I’m doing that, too, but you’ll need to hit the road right after. Trust me.”
I stare at her, waiting for her to reveal the punchline.
She’s always been a comedienne, but her humor was usually self-deprecating with hints of truth. Outlandish takes are still not her forte.
“I got you this, too.” She pulls a pink and coral tube from her pocket and presses it into my hand. “It’s got a blade on one side and nearly lethal pepper spray on the other for whenever you can’t get to your gun fast enough. Put it on your keychain and never let it out of your sight.”
“Okay.” I laugh. “You got me, Kylie. Now, be serious and drop the act.”
“Not wanting you to die isn’t an ‘act,’ Autumn.” She looks into my eyes. “We both have a lot more life left, and I’ve already missed out on enough of yours as it is.”
The look on her face prevents me from laughing again.
Why is she shaking?
“Every person who is unlucky enough to stumble into Edward Rochester’s world—every single person—falls off the face of the planet or finds themselves in a grave.”
“You don’t really think he’s a murderer, do you?” I say the words as a balm to my nerves, unable to believe that the man who pushed my body to the pinnacle of pleasure minutes ago could inflict the worst type of pain.
“I highlighted a date called ‘Black Thursday,’ in one of his files.” She pushes a stack of containers aside and picks up a creased manila folder. Then she throws it at me.
“The feds were prepared to bring a slew of charges against him on this day, and they had seven witnesses scheduled to testify before a grand jury.”
“What were the charges?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Her voice is suddenly cold. “Do you want to know what happened to those witnesses?”
I swallow, shaking my head.
“They’re still looking for them, Autumn,” she says. “They all vanished the day before the hearing without a trace.”
She doesn’t give me the chance to process that. Instead, she steps closer and flips the folder open, bringing me face to face with a large photograph of a burning mansion.
Ryder’s estate…
“The FBI and the ATF find it quite interesting that his main house burned down when they were in the middle of investigating him for those missing witnesses.” She forces me to flip through more photos, showing me firefighters carrying a body bag amidst a wall of flames, a mountain of ash atop his grand water fountain, and charred cars sporting crime scene sashes.
The final picture features a shadowy figure staring at the damage from a distance. The note under it reads, “Mr. Rochester’s location at the time of fire still not confirmed.”
I shut the folder and toss it into the trunk. “He told me about the fire.”
“I highly doubt it was the truth.”
“He said it was an accident.”
“There’s nothing accidental in this man’s world, Autumn.” She rolls her eyes. “Except you crossing paths with him, probably. Then again…”
“How does he know Nate?” I ask, remembering that she’d mentioned it.
“Banking somehow,” she says. “I have a theory, but I need to go through everything one more time, so if you don’t mind…Follow me to the garage so we can switch,” she says. “I made copies of everything and you can look through the rest of that stuff when you get somewhere safe. Call me on one of the burner phones.”
“Kylie, I can’t just abandon everything that I have here.”
“I’m sorry, what exactly do you still have here?” She crosses her arms. “You and Nate are supposedly done, you didn’t make any decent friends, and you hate this city.”
“It’s not just that.”
“I can arrange to have your apartment cleared out and your stuff from storage sent to wherever you go. Somewhere he’ll never find you.”
He’ll definitely find me. “Right.”
“Autumn, you asked me to look into this guy, and I’m telling you to run away. Are you hearing me?”
“I hear you.”
“Then allow me to save you from the inevitable danger ahead of time.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “This doesn’t need to be another Canadian situation, you know?”
I nod, silently fixating on the word’ danger.’
I never told her—never told anyone, but I’ve tasted danger long before Ryder.
And I liked it.
Sweet as syrup, the memory still visits me in my daydreams from time to time. It beckons me like a moth to a flame, daring me to fly closer to its heat.
I never minded getting my wings singed by fire, though. As long as I knew what I was getting into.
As long as it was worthy of burning for…
Ryder’s brand of danger is the unknown, but a part of me can’t resist wanting to see if it’s even sweeter than what I had before.
“Do you remember that, Autumn?” Kylie asks. “You got sent home from our senior symphony trip early because you didn’t properly prepare for customs.”
I nod, unwilling to travel down that road with her; I wasn’t “sent home” from Canada for not preparing. I was fucking deported for breaking the law…
“I can’t switch cars with you,” I say, stepping back. “Even if I wanted to….I appreciate the research, truly, but I think we’ll be fine if you follow me back to my place.”
She narrows her eyes. “I didn’t drive here to have you waste my time, and I…What do you mean ‘even if you wanted to?'”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Come on, follow me.”
“You didn’t agree to work for this man, did you?”
“No, Kylie.” I lie.
“Have you already fucked him?”
I say nothing.
“I see.” She shakes her head. “He’s probably stalking and following your every move already then…”
“Can you please just—”
“Stop warning you about a dangerous ass crime boss who will probably kill you once you’ve served your purpose?”
“He’s not going to kill me, and he’s not following me, Kylie.”
“Okay.” She picks up the gun again. “So, if I shouted, ‘I’m about to shoot you, Autumn!’ nothing would happen?”
I raise an eyebrow, tempted to call 9-1-1 and get her head checked for damages. She’s clearly been awake for far too many hours.
“Anyway…” I reach for the gun, but she doesn’t give it to me. Instead, she steps back and shouts her weird phrase again. A lot louder this time.
Before I can tell her she’s lost her mind, a man in a grey suit steps out of nowhere and moves in front of me.
Another man moves behind Kylie.
“Is there a problem here, Miss Jane?” he asks, pulling out a weapon of his own. “Do you need any assistance?”
Kylie drops her inferior gun to the ground.
Ryder’s associate picks it up. Then he disappears with his companion as quickly as he arrived.
“If you do manage to remain alive..” Kylie’s voice cracks as she unlocks her car door. “Feel free to write to me a ‘You were fucking right’ letter from your prison cell.”
“Kylie, wait.”
“Word of advice from a former friend… Don’t ask for help when you don’t really want it.” She slides behind the wheel without another word and then speeds away.
End of Episode 8
0 Comments