#1.5 Finding Autumn

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#1.5 Finding Autumn Page 15

by Heather Topham Wood


  I sighed. “Look, I’ll come over as soon as I can and talk to her.”

  “But can I stay with you?”

  “I don’t know. You have school and I still have to finish out my last semester…”

  “Please, Blake. At least think about it.” I heard her take a steadying breath before adding, “I’ve forgiven you about Autumn. The least you can do is help me out.”

  “We’ll talk when I get there. Before we decide anything, let’s try to work things out with Mom.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. A click sounded in my ear, and I was unsurprised to find she had hung up on me.

  Autumn was pulling on my jersey after I set the phone back down. Once she finished dressing, she gave me an expectant stare. “Everything okay?”

  “My mom scared off another one of Delia’s boyfriends. It’s not the first time it has happened. My mom thinks Del is going through a rebellious stage and trying to shock her by bringing around dickheads.” The last thing I wanted to do was put out another fire back at home. I had thought I was done with it all, but it seemed as though old habits didn’t die so easily. I sat back down on the edge of the bed and gave Autumn a hopeful look. “You wouldn’t consider taking a ride with me, would you?”

  “And see your mom?” she asked with surprise coloring her tone. “No offense, but I think it’s better if me and your mom follow the guidelines of the imaginary restraining order I created in my head. It dictates we can’t be allowed within five miles of each other.”

  At times, I could no longer pretend it was just Autumn and me and no one else existed outside of us. She was accepting of my relationships with my mom and Delia, but it wasn’t easy. My mother had publicly shamed and attacked Autumn, and my mom’s gross behavior wasn’t something either of us could forget.

  For months, my mom had been furious about my relationship with Autumn. But once my mother separated from Thomas, she tried to mend things with me. She didn’t acknowledge she was wrong, but she agreed to stay out of my love life. Sometimes I thought it would be easier to simply cut my mother out of my life altogether; but then she’d play on my guilt, and I would take her calls once again.

  On the other hand, Delia had been standoffish, but agreed to make an effort after finding out how important Autumn was to me. Yet, the temperature had dropped to below freezing on the two occasions I had brought together Autumn and Delia for dinner. There was too much resentment burrowed deep inside my sister and she had difficulty understanding why I loved a girl she had thought all along was a liar and a home wrecker. Autumn was skittish around Delia, but tried to keep up a charade of normalcy. I knew Autumn did it for my sake, and I appreciated it. Maybe I was a selfish, but I didn’t want to live two separate lives.

  “Will you stay over? I won’t be home too late,” I said.

  “Okay. And I will be checking the movie times. Don’t think you’re getting out of taking me to see a romantic movie.”

  “I never break my promises,” I said softly. I kissed the top of her head while she gave me a slight smile. I really didn’t want to leave her and deal with more family drama. But I had promised Delia I’d always have her back. She felt like what I had with Autumn was a threat, and I had to constantly prove that wasn’t the case. Being assigned the position of arbitrator in all the family battles was exhausting.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The drive home to Clark took less than an hour. The car ride gave me too much time to think. Since the trust fund from my grandparents had been bled dry months earlier, I’d been in a constant state of panic over money.

  Delia thought I worried about money too much. She, like my mother, saw me getting a spot in the NFL. But I didn’t want to rely on a future that wasn’t guaranteed. I was graduating with a degree in economics, and I’d already looked into entry-level positions in the finance field. The draft was a couple months away in May and over the span of two short days, I’d find out whether or not my football career was over. If I wasn’t drafted, I needed a back-up plan. Getting a good job wouldn’t only give me security, but also would be a help to Delia.

  A month earlier, Delia had received her acceptance letter to Cook. Although my mom had pushed a modeling career on my sister, she balked at the idea and went ahead and applied to college. Autumn thought my influence played a part in Delia’s sudden decision to not pursue a modeling career. Autumn insisted Delia had taken notice when I cut the strings and no longer allowed my mom to be my puppet master. Delia’s independence was growing and I wished I had been there to witness Delia forcing my mother to cancel the modeling portfolio shoot my mom had previously scheduled.

  I was thrilled for Delia, but I understood it was going to be a challenge for her to afford school. I had my grandparents’ money and an athletic scholarship, while Delia had two parents barely scraping by. I was determined to help her pay for tuition. My sister deserved a second chance just as much as I had.

  As I pulled onto the street I had grown up on, I steeled myself. It was impossible to not feel haunted coming back to Clark. My life had been intertwined with Thomas’s for almost as long as I could remember. He had bought the house after marrying my mom, and after I’d been shuffled from cheap apartment to cheap apartment, the house had felt like a castle. But looking at the structure from the comfort of my car, it made my flesh crawl.

  Hastily, I parked at the curb and jumped out of the car. The sooner I got my mom to back down, the sooner I got back to my sexy girlfriend waiting at home for me. I strode up toward the walkway and frowned as I noticed how overgrown the lawn appeared. I hadn’t been to the house in months—preferring to meet my family on neutral ground—and it looked as though my mom hadn’t been staying on top of the upkeep. Although I wanted to leave as soon as humanly possible, I acknowledged I should probably drag the lawnmower out of the shed and help out.

  I was lost in my thoughts when I heard footsteps coming up the path behind me. Before I could turn around, a well-known voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “Hi, Blake.”

  I felt my knees grow weak and my mouth turn to cotton. I couldn’t reply, even if I had anything to say. Instead, I turned and found myself facing a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes.

  Thomas’s appearance hadn’t changed much in the year and a half since I saw him last. He was close to my height and still carried a lot of his heft around the mid-section. His brown hair was still cut short with the only difference being a more significant amount of gray hair interspersed in it. He had on a plain white t-shirt and dark red athletic shorts. He looked so normal, and it unnerved me.

  I hated his expression as he regarded me—a blend of regret and sorrow. He was looking at me as if he had just been reunited with his long lost son. I had wanted to be his son for so long, but now the thought repulsed me.

  “What are you doing here?” I managed. I thought of running away from him, but I was too overcome to do much but simply stare in abject horror.

  He hesitated before answering. “Your mom called me. She got into a big fight with Delia. Your sister threatened to run away, so your mom thought I should come by to help.”

  I didn’t respond. I had so much to say and nothing to say to him. Talking to him would do zilch for me. He was a proven liar, so I didn’t expect the truth from him. But still—I had to ask him. “Why? Why did you do it?”

  Thomas showed nothing on his face. “Do what? What are you talking about?”

  I rushed him. I wasn’t thinking; I was operating on pure instinct. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and spat in his face. “Why did you hurt her? Why did you try and rape Autumn?”

  Thomas pushed me off of him. His face flooded with color. “Good god, Blake. I haven’t seen you in years and this is the first thing you say to me. Do you know how badly it hurt to have you not call or write? The closest I’ve been to you is to watch your games on TV. Your mom told me I couldn’t go see you play.”

  His words felt like sucker punches to the gut. To think about Thomas at my games while Autu
mn was in the bleachers was repugnant. He had only been put away for two years for what he had done to her, while she had to live the rest of her life always looking over her shoulder.

  “Stay away from me,” I growled at him.

  Thomas scrubbed his cheeks. “This isn’t how I wanted things to go. I understand why you’re upset, but how do you think I feel? I had to hear from your mom that you’re with Autumn Dorey. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Don’t you fucking dare put this on me,” I seethed. “I’ve already paid enough for your crimes. You’re not in any position to judge my life.”

  “I’m not judging you. I’m just telling you how wounded I am.” His tone lowered and his face filled with wretchedness. “I thought I would be released from prison and reunited with my family. But instead, I come home to a mistrusting daughter, an irate wife, and a son that won’t even speak to me.”

  Calling me his son was a manipulative move on his part. But, hell, if that word didn’t flay me alive more than anything else he could have said. I understood I should walk away, but I couldn’t. I had to see this through. Not only for Autumn, but for myself. I had to let him know that despite possibly thousands of good memories, what he had done had destroyed them all in one fell swoop.

  “You deserve nothing,” I spat back at him. “You are a liar and a predator. And after talking to you for less than five minutes, I see you haven’t changed one bit. You’re not remorseful for what you did to Autumn.”

  Thomas sighed heavily. “I had an affair, Blake. Was it wrong to have a romance with my student? Yes. But that was my only crime.”

  I curled my hands into tight fists. He was pushing me, and he had no idea how bad things would get if he didn’t shut up. I let loose a maniacal laugh. “A romance? A fucking romance is what you call assaulting and trying to rape Autumn?”

  Thomas held up his hands as if in surrender. “I don’t know Autumn now, but I knew Autumn very well in high school. She was a confused girl, and maybe I should’ve seen the signs earlier. She became obsessed with me, and when I broke off our relationship, she made up those charges.”

  I rubbed at my cheeks, trying to wake myself up from this obvious nightmare. “You’re disgusting. I wish they had locked you up forever.”

  I turned to go, but Thomas surged forward. Roughly, he latched onto my forearm. “Blake, we can work this out. I’ve lost two years of my life, my career, and now my family. Can’t you at least hear me out?”

  I shook off his arm. “What is there to say? I can’t even look at you without wanting to kick in your face.”

  Thomas wasn’t warned off by my low and dangerous voice. He had thought when he came into my life he could control my anger—control me. But he had no idea how deeply my feelings for Autumn ran. He’d never persuade me that he was worthy of redemption.

  “Look, I understand emotions are high now.” He gave me a disarming smile. Every one of his actions felt contrived. It made me realize he’d been pretending to be someone he wasn’t for as far back as I could remember. “But, we could meet for dinner, and I’ll answer any questions you have about me and Autumn. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to bring Autumn along. We could all clear the air.”

  An explosive rage took over my body. A surge of adrenaline went through me as I pulled back my fist. I used my full strength as I slammed my knuckles across his cheek. He stumbled backward, and I leapt forward. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think, I could only feel; and what I felt was blinding hatred for my stepfather. I wanted to demolish his body—make him pay for every second he had pinned Autumn down and forced himself on her. By the time I was finished, I wanted there to be nothing left of him but a pile of bloody entrails.

  Thomas lifted up his arms to protect his face. Moving my blows to his body, I began to pound him with the most painful punches I could muster. I aimed for his throat, his kidneys, his liver. He yelled out as he fell to the ground.

  “Stop, Blake!” His words didn’t matter as I began to kick him without mercy. He moaned as I slammed my foot into his groin. He tried to crawl away from me, but I grabbed hold of his leg and yanked him back.

  I was gasping as I kneeled down next to him. “You will never see Autumn again! You go anywhere near her, and I will fucking kill you.”

  He was bloody and caked in dirt since I had fought him on the lawn. He lifted up onto his elbows and spat out blood to the side of his body. I was remorseless as I stood before him. “What are you afraid of?” He smirked in spite of his bloodied state. “Don’t want Autumn to compare notes and figure out that you don’t measure up?”

  He saw my punch coming this time and retaliated with his own powerful hit. His knuckles slammed into my lower lip, and I could taste the blood instantly. It added fuel to the fire that was always burning blindingly hot. But before I could strike back, he punched me again across the cheek.

  His blows hurt, but I had years of built-up resentments on my side. I slapped his arms away and pushed him back to the ground. Before I knew what was happening, I had my hands wrapped around his throat.

  I squeezed until I felt the strain on the muscles in my arms. I could hear Thomas struggling for breath, but it sounded millions of miles away. I was somewhere else. I was in a place where the only thing that mattered was getting rid of the stain on humanity that had hurt the girl I loved.

  “Oh my god! Blake! Get off him!”

  The screams didn’t penetrate at first. It wasn’t until I felt small hands circling my waist from behind, pulling me away from Thomas, that I was able to release him. He cursed and sputtered while the eggplant shade of his face gradually returned to his normal coloring.

  “Dad! Are you okay?” Delia elbowed by me and reached out a hand to her father. He took it and managed to get to his feet. Delia turned on me after Thomas gave her a shaky nod. “Blake, you could’ve killed him!”

  Delia started sobbing, and I felt the first semblance of remorse. I couldn’t be the one responsible for her losing a father. I had lost a dad I hadn’t even known and was a head case because of it. The least I could do was try and shield Delia from that agony.

  “Blake, Thomas, what is going on?” my mother yelled as she hurried down the path.

  Delia and my mom had matching expressions as they gazed at me: profound disappointment. They looked at me as if I was the villain—and not the man five feet away from where I stood who had stolen everything from Autumn.

  I needed to run. I needed to run away from them all. I felt myself falling back into old behaviors that I had worked hard to conquer. I was letting Thomas win again. Once more, he was making me feel those dark feelings that had been pushed away when Autumn had come into my life. I couldn’t be the broken, fatherless boy again that needed salvation.

  I needed to get the hell out of there, and a split second later, I ran away from my family. They screamed out to me, but I couldn’t face them. They wanted too many things from me. They wanted me to be their son, their brother, their hero. But I couldn’t be who they wanted any longer, because I couldn’t be those things with Autumn by my side.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was driving blindly back to my apartment. Not thinking—only feeling. I felt like Thomas had reached inside me and pulled out all those obscene emotions I’d been trying to contain. I didn’t want to be the bad guy. I fought against a nature that looked for fights—a side of my personality that craved the feeling of letting go and being given free rein to destroy those who crossed me.

  I believed I craved that loss of control because I never felt in charge of my own life. I had so much resentment for the paths chosen for me. My mom had decided to bring Thomas into our lives—not me. Or maybe the truth was I had made the decision to love him, and I felt guilt over it. How many poor choices could be traced back to the gnawing shame I felt over what he had done? Wasn’t there something in the bible about how a son must bear the sins of the father?

  My body shook with relief when I saw Autumn’s car still parked in front
of the entrance to my apartment. I needed her to be there—needed her to reassure me that I was still the man who deserved her love.

  I rushed into the house with purpose. The door slammed behind me, and the abrasive sound made Autumn rush out of my bedroom. She had changed since I left and now wore a white sweater and a pair of jeans. When I pulled her into my arms, I buried my face into the soft fabric of the sweater. She looked and felt so perfect, and I probably didn’t deserve to feel so good—especially after almost killing my stepfather.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered into my collarbone.

  “Please, Autumn. I need you right now,” I choked out. My voice was broken, overflowing with pain. My cheeks were wet, and I wondered if I’d been crying since I left my house. On the ride back to Fairfort, I’d been severed from reality, and it was dumb luck I’d been able to drive home without totaling my car.

  I put my fingers on the button of her jeans. She put her hands over mine, and I waited for her to stop me—stop me and demand to know why I was a beaten down mess. Instead, she helped me unbutton her pants and pulled them down. She said gently, “Of course, baby. Whatever you need.”

  She gave me the go ahead, and I let the control slip once again. My lust bowled me over. I needed to be buried deep inside of her and to forget.

  Lifting her in my arms, I carried her over to the couch and set her down on the cushions. I pulled her jeans off the rest of the way, and her underwear followed soon after. My movements were clumsy as the adrenaline still coursed through my body. The need for Autumn throbbed deep inside me. I took off my pants, but didn’t bother with my t-shirt. I loved to play with her, but I was too consumed at the moment with her light chasing away my dark. I was too caught up in needing to reaffirm she was mine. She turned onto her belly and tilted her hips into the couch. She was offering up herself completely to me; and, whether she knew it or not, it was exactly what I needed.

 

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