Page 70 of Fated Love with You
“Bullshit. You gave me vague sentences and runaround semantics.”
“You went along with it because deep down you don’t want normal. You want danger, but I’ve always shielded you from the worst of it.”
“Maybe we need to redefine ‘danger’ then.” My chest is heaving up and down. “Excitement, morally gray areas here and there, sure. Not life or death.”
“You’re clearly still living, Autumn.”
“Under your control, with your limits, everything by the ticking hand on your watch.” The stitches I’ve sewn on my frustrations with him are now bursting at the seams. “I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me. We can’t be out together unless you pre-arrange things days before. I can’t leave unless I’m followed, and I can’t ask too many questions because you don’t want to give that many answers.”
“I thought this was only about the incident the other night…”
“It’s about everything!” I beat my fists against his chest. “Everything.”
He gently grabs my wrists, holding them still, completely unfazed by any pain I might’ve inflicted.
“I’ve never promised you more than what I can give you, Autumn,” he says, his voice firm. “If you’ve been secretly holding out hope for a white picket fence and summer dates at the lakes, that’s your fault. Not mine.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Crystal clear,” he says. “If you don’t mind, I have a meeting to finish, and you obviously need some time to come to your senses so?—”
“I’m fucking leaving you,” I say, enunciating every word. “It’s over, Ryder. I’m done being your puppet that you play with and put away.”
“If that’s how you think I see you, then I agree that you should fucking leave.” He steps back. “You and your defiance won’t be missed.”
“I figured.” I open the door and rush down the hall, refusing to look back. When I make it to the garage, the security guard is holding out my keys.
“Your suitcase is in the trunk, Miss Jane,” he says. “Around what time will you be returning from your errand?”
“Never.” I slide behind the wheel and slam the car in reverse before turning away and heading toward the driveway.
I can’t help glancing through the rearview mirror, looking to see which car will be following, but there isn’t one.
When I’m halfway up the hill, I see Ryder stepping onto his balcony, watching me.
I press on the gas pedal harder, and the moment I’m past the gate, I coast onto the street and onto the highway.
I’m free.
I arriveat the airport as the sun is falling down the sky. I’m in the area where the commercial passengers get ready for boarding, far away from the recent world of private jets and secret boarding.
My throat is tight and despite my efforts to keep my tears at bay, they’re sliding past my cheeks every few seconds.
Staring at the kiosk, I type in the first few digits of my hometown, searching for last-minute flights, but my eyes are stinging too badly for me to focus on the screen.
I take that as a sign to handle what should be done first. Making sure I actually have a “home” to come back to.
I pull out my phone and scroll down to my mother’s name.
Taking a deep breath, I hit call.
It rings once.
It rings twice.
I’m considering hanging up and reaching out to Kylie again, but her voice stops me mid-thought.
“Autumn?” she asks. “Autumn, is this you?”
