Breaking Autumn: A Bad Boy Stuntman Romance

by Jackson Kane

  What? A heist? No. Dante couldn’t be serious. That wasn’t the man I’d been getting to know these past few weeks. But what was a few weeks compared to nearly fifteen years? I felt sick. It was harder and harder to hold onto any hope whatsoever.

  “And let me guess the card will only work for you.” Mitch snorted, shaking his head. He was clearly frustrated that none of this had gone the way he planned, but had cooled off enough to at least listen to Dante. I was just glad he stopped waving the pistol around like a madman.

  “When my father died, I saw my opening and I took it.” Dante spat. Seeing the side of his bloody face already starting to swell made my insides cringe into knots.

  “And you didn’t feel compelled to contact me at all in the last three fucking years to tell me what you were up to!” Mitch’s eye twitched. Skepticism was written across his face and seething anger boiled just below the surface.

  I shuttered at what he might do if he didn’t believe Dante.

  “They’re much smarter than you think. You honestly think they would’ve believed that I had really changed if they caught me calling you?” Dante wiped the side of his bloody face then leveled a hard glare on Mitch. “After all they found you when even the cops couldn’t. That’s where the little birdie came from, right?”

  Wait, what? Was Dante implying that Lionhouse sent these lunatics here? That didn’t make any sense! They knew I was here. I’m one of their main stars! If I was hurt or…something worse they wouldn’t be able to make their movie! Wasn’t that the whole point of training me so hard in such a short amount of time?

  Mitch snorted, amused. He put a hand on his hip and let everything Dante said sink in. Finally, he smiled and hugged Dante hard. “Clever sonofabitch. I knew there must’ve been a good reason for you to disappear. I fucking knew it!”

  Dante hugged him back like an old friend. Was he really telling the truth? Was all of this some elaborate game to him? I was flooded with all the moments that we shared and felt light headed.

  Was everything he ever told me a lie?

  “If Lionhouse sent you, then we’re going to have to move fast.” Dante broke off the hug and glanced at the rest of the crew. “There’s a lot of planning left to do for this job. We should get going.”

  “What’s the rush?” Mitch scoffed insulted. “Your family comes in to visit and you aren’t going to even show us around? You’re better than that. I raised you to have manners.” Mitch took a stern fatherly tone, then raised his gravely voice to make sure I heard him. It was terrifying how quickly and easily he shifted from moods. “It’d be rude to not at least introduce us to your friend. “Come on out and say hi, Autumn Moore,”

  Hearing my name come out of Mitch’s mouth shook me to the core. I gasped at the sudden tapping on the back window of the car with the butt of a revolver, but otherwise stayed motionless.

  That information shouldn’t be available online anywhere! Sarah, my public relations contact, censored the crap out of the training videos I posted on my channel, not that Dante was ever in any of them. Dante wasn’t even officially attached to this movie. There shouldn’t be any connection between Dante and me.

  Maybe Lionhouse really did send them…

  All the car’s windows suddenly darkened with bodies as the rest of his crew surrounded me. Some had their guns out, others didn’t, but they all tapped the car and all called my name. Despite their young age they all taunted me with the menacing demeanor of hardened criminals.

  The only thing that kept me from fully freaking out was that the doors were all locked. I’d made sure of that when I got in the car, not that that would stop any of them for long. They were on the roof and the hood, windows cracked and doors rattled as they pounded. This was hard sleet in hell; it was my worst nightmare come to life. That’s when I noticed I had started to cry.

  I was going to die.

  “Enough!” Dante roared, tearing a Hispanic boy off the hood like he was a stuffed animal. “Get the fuck off my car.”

  “You know the drill,” Mitch paused raising a scrutinizing eyebrow at Dante. “She’s a witness; we have to kill her, Ja— Ah!” Mitch smiled as he waggled his finger goofily. “Jack. Dante. What do I even call you know? I mean you spend years cursing out one name, then you got to learn a whole different name for the same guy…but hey, that’s no excuse. Manners are important. That’s how we grow as people, right? Right!”

  The rest of the crew stopped and reluctantly agreed in unison as if their teacher had just addressed the class. It finally struck me how young they were. They were all kids, not more than sixteen or seventeen years old, and all from different ethnicities. The diversity of the gang would almost be endearing if they weren’t trying to kill me.

  “You heard the man, get the fuck off his car. We’re not animals. That’s a goddamn classic, and you little bastards will show it some respect.” Mitch glared at the kids until they obeyed.

  Were all these kids runaways? Everything made a little more sense, in a horrifying brainwashing sort of way. It was frightening how emotionally manipulating Mitch was. How long did Dante have to live with this guy? No wonder he had trust issues.

  “My apologies, I promise that won’t happen again.” Mitch pet the side of the car lovingly, then whistled loudly. “Anyhoo. Hector! Kill Dante’s girlfriend.”

  Dante snapped a hand over Hector’s arm before he could pull the gun from the waistband of his puffy-crotched pants. “That’s a mistake.”

  “Ow fuck!” The boy whined, squirming against Dante’s vice-like grip and dropping the lit cigarette from his mouth. The rest of the crew were quick to start shouting and aimed their guns at Dante.

  “You are making it really hard to trust you, Jack. It’s like your first fucking day all over again.” Mitch pushed the revolver into Dante’s head, but Dante refused to release Hector’s arm. Disappointment washed over Mitch’s face. “No attachments outside the crew. That was rule numero uno, Buddy. Did Rhonda’s death teach you nothing?”

  “Her name was Rhoda.” Dante grimaced through notes of bitterness and regret. “Greek for rose.”

  “That’s what I fucking said.” Mitch growled, then got in Dante’s face. The gun pushed his head so far to the side that his ear almost touched his shoulder. “What? You think I don’t fucking know the members in my own fucking crew?” Then he abruptly calmed and tried to appeal to Dante. “I get it, I do. Shit, I made the rule against fucking unnecessary casualties. I’d rather die than hurt an innocent bystander or someone not in our way.

  “I’m not the bad guy here, son.” Mitch lowered his gun, then instructed the rest of the crew to do the same. Dante released Hector. “I’m just the one that has to make the hard call. She’s seen us, heard us, and can identify us. I’m not doing this for me; I’m doing this for them; for my family. It’s her or all of us. And that includes you too.”

  Mitch searched Dante’s face, then burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me? She doesn’t know any of it does she?”

  “I’m not one to kiss and tell.” Dante cracked his neck and cleared his throat; his expression was darkened clouds before a lightning storm. Whatever this was Dante didn’t like it. And with a crew like this I could only imagine how hard this event must’ve been for him.

  “Oh come on, I fucking love that story. Shit, that might even be my favorite story, and you know what? I don’t think the crew has even heard, well maybe Tonya. She’s been around the longest. Gather around everyone, it’s story time.” Mitch lightly slapped Dante in the chest, then pulled a glass flask of some kind of alcohol out of his pocket. It looked similar to the flask Dante had in his first aide kit. Mitch took a swig, handed it to Tonya, a Caucasian girl who looked to be the oldest of the group, then waived the rest of his crew over. They filed in against the driver’s side of the Plymouth, rocking the car’s weight.

  “So there we were, pulling a bank job in San Bernardino, had to be twelve or thirteen years ago.” Mitch spread his arm out and really got into the sto
ry. “We were fucking on that day. Everything was falling into place perfectly. We had the right outfits, nailed the guard rotation, everything.”

  “None of this is necessary.” Dante’s fists finally began to ball up. There was only so much of this he could take.

  “No, no, no. It’s important. It was a big day in your life and it should be celebrated.” Mitch was genuinely insistent, the same way a parent might recount their child’s graduation. “Cowboy security guard was packing and wanted to play hero. It happens sometimes, but not often. Usually they just cower and call the cops, but not this grizzled, old fucker. He had the look of a real hard ass to him.

  “Anyways while we’re cleaning out the vault, this fucker creeps up on us. Our backs were all turned; he had us dead to rights. From the reflection on a polished metal lockbox, Dante catches the guy going for his gun. Dante turns, draws and fires before the cowboy can get the shot off. It was fucking magnificent! Fastest damn draw I’d ever seen. I mean real show down at the OK Corral kind of impressive.” Mitch wore this enormous cheshire grin as he acted out the speedy draw with his own gun. The rest of his crew passed the flask around and cheered at parts.

  “Did he smoke him?” One of the kids asked after a long, bitter sip of whatever was in that flask.

  “Dante only clips the guy’s leg, but! He still gets the cowboy to drop his gun. Now this was all surprising as hell for me. You see when Dante first joined my crew, for as ballsy and clever as he was; he stayed a little too green for a little too long. To be honest I wasn’t sure if he was cut out to be one of us.

  “So being the good Dad I am, I knew I needed to step up and help him become a man.” Mitch broke his attention off from his crew and leveled the gun directly on me. I screamed, scurrying as far back into the passenger side of the car as possible, but he still had a clear shot. The only thing between us was a thin piece of glass. I’d never get out of the car in time and if I did there was nowhere for me to go. I was trapped. “It took a little convincing, but in the end Dante did the right thing for his family. One shot, nice and clean, right between the eyes. The cowboy didn’t feel a thing.”

  “No. Please.” I whimpered. Staring down the long barrel of a gun put things into perspective. I wasn’t too proud to beg. I was in so far over my head. I was just a girl who made silly YouTube videos. I never signed up for any of this; I just wanted to help my mom.

  I didn’t want to die.

  “Mitch.” Dante stepped between the two of us. I closed my eyes, not bearing to watch. “I don’t care what you do with her, but we can’t kill a fucking celebrity. There’s no faster way to get the whole country looking for us than—”

  The crack of a gunshot split the air and quieted everything, the birds, the insects, even the breeze. It was only when I gasped in air that I realized I was still alive. But when I opened my eyes, Dante was gone.

  “No!” I screamed. Crying, I threw myself at the driver’s side window to see where Dante was. Touching my forehead to the glass I could just barely see Dante lying on the ground, a pool of blood spreading out beneath him.

  Get up! You can’t be dead. You can’t be dead!

  “No one tells me what I should and shouldn’t do.” Mitch growled. “She’s only a baby celebrity at most. No one’s going to be that torn up over her.”

  Mitch leveled the gun on me again. This time he put it right up to the glass I was pressed against. There was no possible way for him to miss.

  “Help him up.” Mitch decided against firing and lowered the smoking pistol. He took a bandana off Hector’s head. Dante grunted in pain when the three kids got him to his feet. Blood poured out of a hole in his leg.

  Oh thank, God. I exhaled hard, my sobbing was now of relief. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Maybe Dante was a killer and a con man, but I didn’t want to see him hurt. I hated myself for caring about him as much as I did.

  This was insane! There had to be a way out of this! I was shaking violently and was barely keeping myself together. I thought again of driving the still idling car out of there, but with so many people holding guns standing just feet away I didn’t stand a chance.

  “I love you like a son, Jack, please don’t make me kill you.” Mitch tied the bandanna around Dante’s thigh in a makeshift tourniquet. It stemmed the blood flow from the bullet wound just below it. “I need to know which side you’re really on. It’s time to chose. Which life do you belong to? Are you Jack or are you Dante?”

  “Jack.” Steely eyed, Dante growled without hesitation. He looked pale from all the blood loss. I didn’t know if it was from the pain, but Dante was sterner in demeanor than even that first day of training. If I hadn’t watched this whole incident unfold, I wasn’t sure I’d have even recognized him now.

  “Prove it.” Mitch put the loaded gun in Dante’s hand.

  “Anyone can kill anyone,” Dante said more to himself than anyone else. He aimed the gun at me; his expression was cold and distant. Time froze as we stared at each other. How did it come to this?

  “Please.” I pleaded with Dante through sore, red eyes. There had to be some of the man I loved still in there. Some of it had to be real, right?

  “This isn’t enough.” Dante shook his head and stuffed the gun in his waistband. He untied the bandana around his leg. “You’re going to need real proof.”

  Dante snatched the flask and the lit cigarette from Tonya. He took a pull from the glass flask, but didn’t swallow until he poured some of the alcohol on his wound. It kept him from crying out in pain.

  “What are you up to?” A wry grin slowly crept across Mitch’s bony cheeks as he watched Dante with wary curiosity.

  Dante stuffed the bandana in the flask, then he pulled long drags through the cigarette, getting the cherry tip hot enough to light the dangling end of the bandana. I didn’t realize what he was doing until the alcohol soaked bandana caught fire.

  “Reminding everyone here exactly who I am.” Dante growled through gritted teeth, then threw the Molotov cocktail into the garage. The flaming flask sailed past the framed family photographs, stacks of paper flyers from thrill shows long since forgotten, reels of old camera footage, his father’s riding gear and countless other irreplaceable heirlooms and memories to crash into the metal cabinet with all the open containers.

  The ball of fire that erupted from the cabinet with all those chemicals gave way to a to much larger explosion seconds later that rocked the car and staggered everyone outside. It knocked Mitch and several of the kids to the ground along with a few of the motorcycles that were parked too close. Everyone fled from the fire that billowed out of the garage; everyone except Dante, who stood resolute against the extreme heat and stared at me.

  Ashes and sparks of his old life rained down all around him, occasionally catching on his skin and burning small marks into his bare chest and face. An entire family history smoldered in a fiery inferno. Gone forever.

  “Go,” he mouthed the word at me, not daring to say it out loud. His gaze was heavy with an immense sorrow.

  My heart lurched when I realized what all this was.

  This was the long con that Dante was playing at this whole time. My only escape. It crushed me to know that he had to burn his whole life just to save mine. Before I could try to convince him to come with me he went over to help Mitch who was already finding his feet.

  I couldn’t waste this opportunity. This was my only chance. I slid fully behind the wheel and put the car in drive. The Plymouth immediately stalled out.

  “Fuck!” I scolded myself starting it back up. I was way too close to the fire. The heat had permeated the inside of the car making it well over a hundred degrees. If I didn’t leave soon the tires would melt or the car itself might catch fire.

  Breath, Autumn. Slow is fast, I reminded myself. Figure this out.

  Agonizingly slowly I put it back into gear and started rolling. I let off the clutch nice and easy and started to move faster. I made it into first!

  Then the back
window exploded as a bullet tore through the inside of the car, narrowly missing me. In the rearview mirror I saw Dante standing there with an outstretched arm and a smoking gun. Both the engine and I screamed as I gave it more gas. A hail of bullets flew in from the rest of the crew mere seconds later. Most of the shots missed, but some didn’t, I needed to go faster! Mustering my courage, and praying to anyone who would listen, I attempted to shift into second gear. The transmission stuttered and there was a terrible grinding noise.

  But the car didn’t stall!

  One of the superheated motorcycles exploded behind me, which then set off the other closely parked ones in a chain reaction. As I pulled out of Dante’s driveway for what would definitely be the last time, my mirrors held an orange glow from the burning building that raged against the last of the dying, evening light.

  I didn’t know how many vehicles were disabled from the blast, but I raced down the lonely dessert road as if I was being followed just in case. Heading nowhere, except generally away, I had nothing but time and thoughts keep me company. For hours I replayed all the events that just happened over and over in my mind. So many things weighed heavily during that long drive. I worried about my mother and wished I had a way to contact her, warn her. Dante wouldn’t tell them where she was would he?

  Of course not! He saved my life!

  He also shot at me!

  But I’d seen him on the firing range. That would’ve been an easy shot for him if he was actually trying to kill me. Maybe that was a distraction too, a way to prove to the crew that he was trying to stop me? Nothing made any sense any more. It felt like my whole world was upside down. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Was that story Mitch told me true?