Page 1 of Autumn Leaves and Pumpkins Please

PROLOGUE

Capri

16 years old

I sit on the deflating air mattress in my roach infested room. The white ceiling above me is rotting. Spots of discoloration show through from where the roof has leaked. Outside my bedroom door, I can hear my drunk and probably high father as he beats and yells at my stepmother. A part of me still feels like I should go and try to help her, but she is literally the epitome of the evil stepmother. She despises me, and she’s never come to help me even in the darkest of times. His angry, slurred voice bellows through the paper-thin walls of the trailer.

Stray tears slip down my cheeks and I swipe them away angrily. My father has always been a world class piece of shit. He’s more concerned about his brothers in the motorcycle club he runs with. Their main concern is the drugs and women they sell. Nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter that I’m only sixteen, trying to make it through high school and actually do something with my life. It doesn’t matter that when he’s drunk off his ass or high out of his mind, that I have to barricade my bedroom door to keep his ‘brothers’ from coming in. Nothing matters to him.

My mother couldn’t handle it anymore, not that I totally blamed her, so she bolted. She left me in the rundown trailer my father calls home, in the worst neighborhood, alone. She now has a perfect husband with a new perfect family. The internet has allowed me to keep up with her throughout the years. Although, I’m not sure why I do. It’s just a vivid reminder that I’ve never been good enough for anyone to choose. I’ve been forgotten by her and beaten by him, but tonight I get out.

Billy isn’t my forever, but he is my way out. I’ll climb on the back of his motorcycle, but we won’t get a happily ever after. He’s my escape from being trailer park trash just like my father. My worn backpack is packed with everything I own, which isn’t much. I’m ready and I’m waiting. A tap on the window causes me to jerk my head up. The trailer has gone silent, so I guess my dad is done with his angry outburst. He’s either passed out or snorting crap up his nose again.

Billy’s blonde head of hair appears in my window with his eyes as dark as the night sky. He’s three years older than me and hangs with another motorcycle club a couple of towns over. A few months ago, my best friend, Rachel, took her parents car and we snuck into a little dive bar to watch a band play live. Billy was there banging on the drums. It wasn’t love at first sight but there was a flicker of something that caught my attention. I open the window. “Are you ready, babe?” he asks. I nod my head and pass him my backpack. He slips it on his shoulders and then reaches for me. He helps me out the window and we run back to his bike parked outside of the trailer park. I don’t even bother to look back. What’s the point? There’s nothing to miss there and nothing will miss me.

****

20 years old

I scan the room, double checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything important. Eddie is passed out in our bed, so I know I need to move quickly. There’s always the possibility of him waking up sooner, and if he does, there will be hell to pay. I cringe at the thought. As quietly as possible, I rush through the house. What little I own I shoved into a Wal-Mart sack. My purse hangs from my shoulder. I grab the keys to the car and rush out the door.

Eddie wasn’t supposed to be my forever but I didn’t think it’d turn out like this. You know when they say you’ll marry someone like your father…. I may not have married Eddie, but he is exactly like my father. There was something about him. He walked on the wild side, a brush with danger that excited me. That should have been my first sign to avoid him, but instead I rushed into things with him, and look where it got me.

When I get into the car, I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. The bruise was lighter, but now it’s darkening again and swollen. It’s impossible to stay out of his way when he needs a fix, and his anger is flaring. I back out of the driveway and fly down the dirt road to the highway. I don’t look back because there’s nothing there anyways. My plan is to drive until the gas runs out, take what cash I have and buy a bus ticket as far away from here as possible. I’m always running. I’ve been running away from my series of bad decisions since I was sixteen. All I wanted to do was escape the hell I called home. In the long run, I just made my life a bigger mess. Always chasing things that don’t exist. One of these days, I’ll realize I’m fine on my own.

****

24 years old

I lie on the cold tile floor of the clean kitchen. The kitchen that was pristinely white is now smeared with blood. My blood. The ache in my ribs only causes my head to pound harder. My left eye is swollen shut and blood leaks from the cut on my lip. I don’t know how long I’ve laid here, my heart shattering. He was supposed to be my happily ever after, but instead he became the biggest monster of all. The devil in disguise.

He said all the perfect things and it felt so sincere. It felt real and I fell for it. For so long, I just wanted someone to choose me, and he did. I just didn’t realize what he was choosing me for. The big, beautiful house he put me in became my prison. His words left me sliced open and his body became a weapon of mass destruction. One wrong move and I paid over and over again. No apology was ever good enough because in his eyes I was never good enough. The only thing he truly wanted was a punching bag to suffice the chip on his shoulder.

I thought I was done running, but I was wrong. The plan forms in my head. He’ll be at work tomorrow. I’ll pack what I can and run once again. I won’t look back because there’s nothing left here for me. I’m beginning to think I was better off as trailer trash. This house was no safer. The man I ‘loved’ was no better than the father I ran from.

Pushing myself up, wincing at the ache, I find a determination in myself that I’ve never felt before. I’m not running. I’m leaving and I don’t need anyone. It’s me, myself and I from now on. No more looking for happily ever after. It doesn’t exist anyways. I’m going to leave this hell that I walked into in the form of pretty, expensive things and I’m never looking back. This is the last time I let my heart make a decision for me. From now on, I go with my brain, and I only consider myself. No one will ever lay another hand on me again. I refuse to be another statistic.

ONE

Capri

The sun beams through the slats of the vertical blinds from the living room. It’s my day off from Bee’s Batter, but it still seems weird to not already be at work. I miss the bakery when I’m not there. That place feels like it gives me a purpose and that’s something I’ve never had. My loft apartment is unusually chilly. When I sit up, I instantly reach for my oversized, teal sweatshirt that is thrown on the large round chair sitting in the corner of the room. I slip it on and throw my bird nest of bedhead into a messy bun. My loft apartment isn’t much, but it’s all mine and affordable, which is all that matters to me. As I get out of bed, I realize I left the windows in the living room below me cracked open. That explains the chilliness of the apartment, at least.

I pad down the stairs to the living space below. Last night, I painted on the blank canvas until my eyes bled all the colors together. I knew it was time to call it a night then. Closing the windows must have slipped my mind. As I make my way over to them, I stop to pet, Thora, my Tabby cat. Really, she’s hardly mine. I found her in the alley that leads to my apartment right after I moved to Blue Ridge. She seemed just as lost as I did at the time. It took a few days and about ten cans of tuna to get her to trust me enough to let me pet her and another week before I was able to catch her and visit the vet. Thora received a clean bill of health and moved in with me. We’ve been roommates ever since. She purrs as I pet her orange, fluffy coat. “Good morning, Sweet Girl.”

As I make my way towards the three large windows sitting in the middle of the exposed brick wall of my living room, the canvas from last night catches my eye. I detour making my way to it. The way the colors bleed together calms something in my soul. That piece of me that is always looking for happiness but knows I can never truly find it. Blue Ridge is the first place I’ve felt content though, so I call it home.

Movement from across the alley that my living room faces catches my eye. When I look out, I see Jayse Lyon in his backyard, shirtless in all his glory. He’s currently cutting wood for whatever job he’s currently working on. From what I know about him, aside from the fact that he is breathtakingly handsome, he’s the town’s handyman. If something needs to be fixed in town you call Jayse. Before that he was the town’s golden boy. Quarterback of the high school’s football team was recruited to play for the Florida Gators but turned it down to become a firefighter. A year later, something tragic happened leaving half of his beautifully sculpted body scared with angry red rivets in his skin from the burns he sustained. Apparently, he quit his job and became a recluse and handyman.

A man is the last thing I need in my life. Every time one shows up, it only makes things messier. The last time I left one was the last time. I made myself that vow and for the past three years I’ve stuck with it. I’ll continue to keep my vow for the next thirty years at this point. There’s no point in getting off track. No matter how handsome he is with his tall, muscled body, tanned skin, shoulder length chocolate colored hair and intense gray eyes. He’s broody with an arm of tattoos and drives a motorcycle when he’s not working. Yep, he’s everything I don’t need.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks up. A chunk of hair breaks loose from the low ponytail he wears it in. It falls over his eyes, clinging to his sweaty forehead. I duck away from the window. My heart beats rapidly in my chest. I’m sure he saw me but it’s okay to look. I just won’t touch.

After a few minutes, I pull the windows shut, making sure they’re locked because you can never be too sure and then head through my living room to the kitchen. When I get to the coffee pot and open the cabinet, I realize I’m out of coffee. I should have guessed. There’s no way I can start my day without coffee, so I head back upstairs to my bedroom and get dressed for the day. A little while later, I head out to my charcoal gray Chevy Sonic. As I slip behind the steering wheel of my car, Jayse comes back out into his backyard. His eyes scan over the car and I’m thankful for the tinted windows.

The engine comes to life, and I slip on my sunglasses since I actually put my contacts in today. Foo Fighters blare through the speakers and I head down the alley to Bee’s Batter. Most of the rush should have cleared off by now so grabbing a coffee and something to eat should be easy. As I enter, Warbee, the owner of the bakery and my manager, looks up. Her red hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She smiles. “Girl, don’t you ever take the day off?”

I laugh. “Well, I took it like you told me I had to, but I’m out of coffee at my place and you know me and my coffee.”

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