Telling Autumn the truth was also going to bring to the surface the hundreds of impossibilities about our relationship I’d been trying to bury. How would she handle knowing the mother I complained about was the same woman who tried to shame Autumn in the press? How could she accept Delia was always going to be part of my life despite her being the daughter of a monster? Would Autumn trust me enough to believe Thomas would never be part of my life again? I wanted her to feel safe with me, but I wasn’t sure if that could happen with him being released and accepted home by my family.
My fate would be decided in a few short days. Darien would be gone for the weekend, and Autumn and I could be alone at my place. As I ran through the possible ways to tell her the truth, I found there were no words that would lessen the blow. I wasn’t ready to ruin what we had by being honest, but I probably never would be. I couldn’t wake up each morning with the foolish hope I had transformed into the man she thought I was. I had told her there were things from before we met I was ashamed of, but I doubted she’d guess how intertwined our pasts were.
In the meantime, I had to suffer through another dinner with my mother. Avoiding her had proven futile since she began to use Delia to contact me. Delia had asked if we could try a family dinner again without screaming at each other or anyone storming out. She suggested we have takeout at my place to avoid any public meltdowns.
After Autumn had let me know her plans to study for spring finals with friends, I agreed to have Delia and my mom come over and order Chinese food. I would eventually have to tell Delia about Autumn, but that was a conversation I’d postpone. My involvement with her would wound Delia in the worst possible way, and she’d see it as the ultimate betrayal to our family. She didn’t like my estrangement from her dad, but she could live with it. Loving his accuser would destroy her.
My mother was unnaturally silent as we dug into our meal. Delia tried to play intermediary and start conversation, but my mother would snap out short answers to the questions volleyed her way. My mom was angry with me, and she hated that I wouldn’t compromise my stand against Thomas. I’d always been her “good little boy,” behaving the way she wanted me to. I never missed practices and games, never deviated from my training schedule, and kept up my grades to avoid being disqualified from the football team. When she needed money, I ceaselessly dipped into a fund meant for my education and handed it over.
“Mom, where’s the lo mein and fried rice?” Delia asked as she shoveled more food out of the takeout containers onto her paper plate.
My mother’s lips came together in a tight line. “I figured we were all watching our diets since football season is coming for Blake and you and I will be meeting with the photographer in a couple of weeks.”
My mother had lofty goals for her children. My hope had been that if I let her push me toward the NFL, it would take some of the pressure off Delia. However, since Delia had blossomed from a gawky teenager into a beautiful young woman, my mom wanted her daughter to pursue a modeling career. For her seventeenth birthday next month, my mom paid a photographer to put together a portfolio—regardless of Delia showing no interest in modeling.
“What’s next, Mom? Are you going to put locks on the fridge?” Delia demanded as she took an exaggerated bite of her food.
“Sometimes I feel like the two of you don’t appreciate me at all,” my mother said in a huff. “Do you think I wanted this life? I was left high and dry by both of my husbands, with no money to support a family. I try to motivate the two of you to make sure you don’t end up in the same boat.”
Delia made a sympathetic face before returning her attention to her food. My mother was a master manipulator, and that was the reason Delia would likely go into modeling. My mom had a way of making her children responsible for all the hardships she had faced over the years. I may have accepted my fate, but I wanted my sister to do whatever made her happy.
“So, what are your summer plans, Blake?” my mom asked. “I’m assuming football practices will resume in August. Are you planning to work with David again?”
My high school friend’s father owned a construction firm and gave me work whenever my school schedule allowed it. I usually worked fifty hour weeks May through August and it kept me afloat for most of the school year. I needed the cash to cover day-to-day expenses. “Probably.”
“Since most of the jobs are near Clark, you should consider moving back home for the summer.” My mother folded her arms on the table in front of her. “Maybe Darien could find someone to sublet while you’re away. You’ll save on your bills and not have a long commute every day.”
Delia’s blue eyes were buoyant, and I did hate hurting her. “That’s not going to work out, Mom.” My tone let my mom know the subject wasn’t open to discussion. “Besides, I’ll be working all hours and barely at home.”
It was my way to smooth things over. A fight would be on the horizon if I told her there was no way in hell I was going anywhere near the house when Thomas came to live there. Honestly, I had no idea how I was going to handle my stepfather being a free man. I would avoid him, but Autumn’s safety was my priority. I already wanted to kill him for what he had done to her. The slightest provocation may cause me to hurt him in ways that would ensure he’d never touch another woman again.
My mother opened her mouth to reply, but I cut her off. “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”
Hurrying away from the table, I headed to the hall bathroom. I needed a breather and wondered how long I could hide out in there before someone came looking for me. Splashing water on my face, I took a minute to stare at my reflection. The secrets I had weren’t visible to most people, but I could see the toll they were taking on me. My green eyes had dulled, and my usually browned skin appeared sallow. I looked haggard—exhausted by my jumbled emotions. How could I be the happiest and the most miserable at the same exact time?
After turning off the faucet, I froze. I heard screaming vibrating through the bathroom door. It sounded like my mother was in the midst of a vicious rant. I had no idea what could have riled her up in the minute I’d been in the bathroom, but I knew it was my cue to come to my sister’s rescue. I was taken aback when I saw the front door wide open and the yelling coming from the outside stoop of my apartment.
At the doorway, Delia stood blocking my exit. Sidestepping around her, I called out to my mother. “Mom, what are you guys doing out here?”
“No.” The voice was strangled, but there was no mistaking the identity of the speaker. Autumn stood before my mother with an appalled look. She had collapsed within herself from the second I called out the word “Mom.”
My arrogance would always be my downfall. I should have known I couldn’t control fate. I couldn’t micromanage how Autumn would find out about me. The threat had always been there—the possibility of her connecting the dots and figuring out who my family was.
Momentarily, I couldn’t react. I wished for a rewind button—a way to go back to the night of the party and change course. I hated how the face that usually looked up at me with openness and affection had transformed into a fixed mask of betrayal. My faltering was another mistake. It gave my mother a chance to march up to Autumn and smack her across the cheek.
“You don’t know how good that felt to do, you little slut,” my mom spat at Autumn. “Are you stalking my son now? Luckily I caught you before you cried rape and tried to throw him in jail, too.”
Snapping out of my shocked state, I ran over to stand between my mom and Autumn. “Mom, stop it!” I shouted, since she looked like she was readying to launch another attack.
I used my body to block my mother from Autumn’s view. I turned to face her. As I noticed the angry slash of red across her cheek, I felt the throb along with her. Instinctually, I reached out to touch her. She backed away as if my hands were diseased. I broke apart inside over her reaction. I deserved her loathing, but it didn’t mean I’d embrace it.
“What are you doing here?” Delia deman
ded of Autumn. I didn’t expect her to answer, she looked too shell-shocked to even process the question. Her breathing was loud and labored, sounding as if her lungs couldn’t hold in enough air to function. Her eyes were glazed, and I imagined her brain trying to disconnect from the horrible scene unfolding before her.
“Mom and Delia, you need to go inside,” I commanded. “I need a minute alone with Autumn.”
In mere seconds, she would bolt. I saw her inching her way toward the parking lot. I could hear a car running, and I guessed she had borrowed a friend’s to come to my apartment for a surprise visit. I felt sick to think of her coming to the door and getting completely blindsided. Maybe it was farfetched, but I wanted to act as my own defense attorney. My idea had been to start at the beginning and let her know exactly how we’d gotten to where we stood now. It might not have made what I had done justifiable, but at least she could hear my side before making her decision. Instead, my family was attacking her with increasing maliciousness.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Do you realize who this is?” my mother sneered. “Do you remember what she did to our family? To your father?”
My mother’s eyes filled with a blend of disbelief and rage. She had cultivated her detestation for more than two years—somehow convincing herself Autumn was responsible for Thomas’s betrayal. My mom felt Autumn’s youth wasn’t an excuse for her behavior. In my mother’s convoluted mind, she presumed Autumn had used her age and beauty to lead a man in the midst of a midlife crisis astray.
“Mom, she didn’t know who I was….” The truth left behind a sour aftertaste in my mouth. I couldn’t lie anymore and try to pretend I hadn’t approached Autumn with intent. She may not believe a word I’d have to say again, but I would only be truthful with her from this moment forward.
“But she knew my husband was a married man,” my mother said in a low and deadly tone before turning her sights back to Autumn. “Did you care? He had a wife and children and we depended on him. Did that thought ever cross your mind when you whored around with him?”
Resentment for my mom unfurled in my chest. I had been a loyal son throughout my life—forgiving her for the way she tried to control me at every turn. She was stubborn to a fault—never willing to change her mind once it was made up. Our family was the victim of Autumn’s depraved ways and nothing anyone said would change my mom’s opinion. I could admit I was wrong—accepting how utterly mistaken I’d been not to see what all of us had done. We had all used Autumn—took and took everything she had to give—and made her a pariah once she served our purposes.
My hand cupped her elbow to keep her from running. I needed to get rid of my mom—fast. “You need to go inside right now,” I said to my mother, leaving no room for a single argument from her. “If you don’t, I’m withdrawing the rest of the money from my bank account, and I’m never speaking to you again.”
I had hit her exactly where I knew it would hurt the most. Her expression turned martyr-like, and I shook my head, aggravated at her constant need to be the victim in any given situation. Frequently, I questioned what life would be like if she had accepted some responsibility for her actions over the years.
“Where’s your loyalty?” she seethed. “Your father gave you everything. He has loved you—”
“Mom, stop it,” I shouted. The tension inside me finally snapped. “I’m serious. If you want me to keep helping out with money, you need to walk away.”
My mom wouldn’t take the chance I wasn’t bluffing. I was the only one who could access the trust fund and she relied on the money I gave her to carry the bills month to month. I’d always take care of Delia—my responsibility toward my little sister was unshakeable. But I wouldn’t stand by while my mother was cruel to Autumn. I’d been a bystander in my life for far too long. I’d been trained by my mom to behave exactly the way she wanted me to, but she couldn’t control me when it came to how I felt about Autumn. Autumn made me feel like I could just be me, and it was good enough for her. She didn’t chip away at my very essence to fit me into her idea of the perfect mold.
“I’ll go, but this isn’t over,” my mother huffed out while staring down Autumn. “I’m calling my lawyer and I’ll take out a restraining order to keep you away from my family if I have to. You’ve done enough damage.”
I shook my head in revulsion at my mom’s melodrama before taking her forcibly by the hand and dragging her back into my apartment. Delia stood in place, her hands trembling as she tried to rein in her emotions. She looked to me for guidance, her eyes pleading with me to explain. I had hurt Delia, and as her protective older brother, it was something I had always tried to avoid.
“It’s going to be okay, Del. I’ll explain everything.”
Delia looked past me. I could imagine how brutal it must be for her to see Autumn in the flesh—harder so to see me protecting her from our mother. Autumn’s trust in me was shattered, but by the reluctant acceptance on Delia’s face, I understood my sister would give me a chance later to explain. She rushed inside and closed the door.
While my attention was diverted, Autumn had scrambled toward the parked car. I couldn’t let her run off. I couldn’t have her leave and not know I never wanted her hurt. I pressed my hand against the car door before she could get inside.
“Get the hell away from me,” she said, her voice thick.
“Autumn, please, you have to at least hear my side of things….”
My side wasn’t exactly going to win her over, but I hoped it was better than the alternate theories she probably had running through her mind.
“I said get away from me.”
Autumn threw whatever she was cradling in her hands at me. With a quick downwards glance, I saw a cheesesteak from a takeout container splatter over my shoes and the pavement. I came to the quick conclusion Autumn had come over to surprise me with lunch. I looked back at her. I tried to say with my eyes the things she didn’t likely believe—I loved her. My love for her had taken over my mind and body and had forced rationality out the window. I was a liar, but every emotion I felt for her was pure.
She unleashed on me—slapping my chest, throwing fierce punches. I didn’t stop her. I would do anything for her. I wanted to shoulder her pain—steal every bad feeling away and make it my own. I would never achieve redemption, but as long as she’d let me, I’d try to make her see how badly I wished I could fix things.
My vision blurred and I didn’t try to blink the tears away. I’d hide nothing. She began to sob, but I didn’t make the mistake again of reaching for her. She had made her feelings clear about me touching her, and I wouldn’t go against the boundaries she had set.
“When did you know?” Autumn hissed. “When did you realize who I was?”
I closed my eyes and wished the moment away. How could I make her understand I wasn’t the same man she met months ago? I had never believed it before—the idea that one person could alter the very fiber of my being—but it was undeniable how much she had changed me.
Her eyes narrowed. “You saw me at the party and recognized me. So, from the moment we met, you’ve failed to mention your father was the one who tried to rape me.”
God, the truth fucking hurt. Being in denial had been bliss compared to having all of my sins said out loud. When Autumn and I got together, I thought I accepted the truth; but, in all honesty I never allowed myself to reconcile my stepfather with the man who tried to rape Autumn. I may have told myself Thomas was a liar, but I never really allowed myself to picture what he had done to her. Even as she opened up to me, her attacker remained faceless in my head. It was a pathetic boy’s attempt at trying to salvage a few choice childhood memories.
“He’s not my father. I did tell you the truth about my dad dying. Thomas married my mother when I was six.”
“Did he put you up to it? Was it some kind of twisted revenge scheme?”
Her words sliced into me—laying me to waste. She had every right to think the worst, but it hurt like all hell. For he
r to believe I’d conspire with Thomas against her told me, in no uncertain terms, I had lost her for good.
“God, no,” I choked out. “Is that what you honestly think I’d do? I know how bad this looks, but I never set out to hurt you. I haven’t talked to Thomas in a year, and I’ve tried to move on after his arrest. I saw you at the Football House and it felt like I was seeing a ghost. The decent thing to do would’ve been to stay away from you. But I didn’t, and instead fell in love with you.”
Her biting laugh shamed me. “Fell in love with me? You’re a manipulative monster and although he’s not your blood, Thomas obviously raised you to follow in his footsteps.” Her eyes iced over and she lifted her chin up to give me a withering gaze. “Now, let me leave before I scream.”
I let go of the car door because forcing her to stay and listen would only have the reverse effect I wished to achieve. She’d resent me for being another man that took whatever he wanted from her. “I’m so sorry, Autumn. I fucked everything up, and it’s killing me to know how much you must hate me right now.”
“Fuck you, and fuck your apology.”
Without a second’s hesitation, she jumped into the car and peeled away. I fell into myself as I watch her drive away. Briefly, I considered rushing over to my car and following her. I was worried about her driving after absorbing such a powerful blow. I had hated Hunter and her friends for turning on her, but what I had done was a harsher and more personal attack. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t and wormed my way into her life. She’d gone away to college to escape, and I was dragging her backward.
I didn’t deserve her love. I wanted to fight for her, but there were irreparable things in my life. Because I could apologize, and explain away my lies, and hope that one day she’d see into my heart. Yet, there was no way to erase the fact that I was raised and loved by Thomas Bridges.
#1.5 Finding Autumn Page 11
