Chapter 27
twenty-seven
ZEKE
I’m still stunned that we found this drawing. Like, there’s no doubt about it. It’s Lena, for sure. And while I’ve had my own sort of sexy tryst with her, this drawing is a different story.
The way she’s lying there on the couch like that, all seductive, yet still at ease? She’s completely vulnerable, completely trusting of the dude drawing her. And then that dude turned around and fucking killed her. Honestly, it’s not even computing. I can’t wrap my head around it.
And Autumn…
I knew when she asked me about the pendant that it was only a matter of time before she broke down—which is understandable.
But god, I don’t know how to deal with this stuff.
I haven’t cried since Maddie Carver told everyone in the sixth grade that my dad left because he hated me.
And let’s face it. I’m not the world’s most comforting person.
“Hey,” I say, placing a tentative hand on Autumn’s waist. “You okay?”
Autumn lets out a sob as she shakes her head, her hair falling in her face. I’ve got the sudden urge to reach out and tuck the strand behind her ear, but it feels too intimate. It feels like something a boyfriend would do—and I’m definitely not anybody’s boyfriend.
“She knew I would understand,” Autumn chokes out.
She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Lena must’ve… must’ve seen everything. She was in this house when Patrick used to come home smelling like perfume I didn’t own.
She’d have heard us arguing, heard him yelling.
Saw that time I found the thong in his briefcase. ”
“Yeah…”
Well, shit. If I thought I was going to avoid an intimate situation, I thought wrong. This conversation is absolutely barreling its way toward Intimate Island—full fucking steam ahead. But this situation is serious, and I’m not trying to be a douche, so I keep quiet and let Autumn talk.
“I used to feel so—so—powerless,” Autumn continues.
Her voice is almost too even, like she knows it’s going to get shaky and is keeping a stranglehold on it.
“And Lena… God, I can’t even imagine how she must’ve felt.
How scared. I always knew the men in Patrick’s family were shit, and this just proves it. ”
“I know,” I say, nodding. “I mean—about the scared part. I keep thinking about that, too. And the fact she must’ve wanted you to have the pendant as some sort of connection between the two of you.”
Autumn wipes her eyes again. “Or to prove it was really her in the photo. Not that we really needed more proof.”
“Trust me,” I say, cracking a grin. “I can see her just fine.”
Autumn ignores my comment, which is probably just as well.
Every time I think she’s getting it together, she blinks and another flood of tears comes spilling down her cheeks.
I’m starting to kind of freak out, because I have no clue what to say or do to make her feel better—or if I should even try.
I’ve heard some women say they like crying, that it cleanses their system, or some shit like that.
Maybe Autumn’s one of those women. I don’t fucking know.
“God. What do we do?” Autumn asks. I can tell she doesn’t want an actual answer, though, because she continues straight through to her next thought.
“I wonder where her body is. Do you think it’s in the lake?
Should we ask her? And honestly, come to think of it, who on earth is going to believe us—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, cutting her gently off. I put my hand on her lower back again, rubbing gentle circles with my palm in a gesture I hope is comforting. I may not know how to navigate emotions, but the female body… that I know. “Let’s slow down a little bit.”
Autumn’s brow furrows, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. “Slow down…?”
“Yeah,” I shrug. “Lena’s been here for, like, eighty something years. She’s not gonna be mad if you take a breath, if you think a little about what to do.”
“Really? Can you see her?”
My gaze flashes to Lena, who’s back at her spot near the spirit board.
Ever since the night of the blow job, she’s had her fill of me.
I guess when you go eight whole decades without any sort of release, you’ll jump on the first guy who walks in and can see you.
I get it. Lucky for her, that guy was a stud.
Maybe that kind of release will help Autumn, too. Dispel some of that tension she’s got going on. I can at least try—it’s the only thing I know to do.
I head over to the coffee table and shut off my phone camera, shoving the phone into my back pocket as I pass by the camcorder and shut that one off, too.
As I approach Autumn again, sliding both my hands around her waist and tugging her toward me, she frowns. “What are you doing?”
“Making you feel better,” I say, fixing her with a look that says I’m not leaving here until she’s taken care of.
My hands are traveling up her sides, sliding to her front to cup her tits.
Weirdly, she stays frozen. Her body doesn’t soften to meet me, and there’s no melting into my arms like she’s done before.
“Making me feel better,” she repeats. There’s almost zero inflection in her voice.
“Mmhm,” I murmur, pulling her hips in toward mine. I can already feel my dick starting to stiffen in my jeans with how close she is to me now.
But as I bend my head down to kiss her, my lips seeking hers, she jerks away. She fucking pushes me. And I swear to god I’m so stunned I freeze. I don’t even have time yet to be embarrassed.
“Christ,” Autumn snaps, eyes blazing. “Don’t you ever take anything seriously? Or are you just like—incapable? Everything’s always fucking fun and games to you, isn’t it?”
A hot wave of embarrassment flashes through me. Clearly, physical comfort was not the way to go here. But what else was I supposed to do? I don’t know how to handle this stuff. When it comes to emotional support, I’m freaking useless. Nothing Autumn said is wrong.
But I don’t know what to say to that, so I just give an exaggerated wince. Like she hit me right where it hurts—but in a funny way, you know? She doesn’t need to know how much her comment stings. I’ve got to keep on rolling.
“Sorry,” I say, raising my hands to show her I’m not trying to start anything. “Sorry—you’re right. Not the time.”
Autumn blows out her breath. She doesn’t look mad. She just looks… tired.
“Thanks,” is all she says.
But I’m still reeling. I’ve got to get out of here.
Leaving Autumn still standing near the mantel, the drawing of Lena still in her hand, I get to work packing up my shit.
I’m not really sure how I’m going to edit this pilot so there’s an ending, but I’ll figure something out.
Because I can’t stay here another minute—and I can tell things have changed between me and Autumn.
Now that shit’s taken a turn, the footage I’ve got is all I’m going to have.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna head out,” I say.
As I blow out the candles and fold up the spirit board, whispering to Lena that I’m sorry for the rushed goodbye, Autumn just watches me.
When I move to the door, she follows, silent.
“Thanks for letting me film. I’m glad Lena finally got her story out there. I’ll see you around.”
Autumn nods.
Not even waiting for a goodbye, I step outside, pull the front door shut behind me, and stride off down the path, cutting across the yard to the cabin. I know it’s stupid, but I feel so rejected. So unwanted. I feel like I did when Maddie Carver said I was the reason my dad left.
At this moment, all I want is to go the fuck to bed.
So that’s what I do. I’m pretty sure I’ll feel back to myself in the morning—once I’ve shaken off the weirdness that was tonight.