The car roared along beneath her as Rachel drove through the rain and the mud, the sky thundering above her. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew she had to go somewhere, put the car somewhere. But where? Where would he possibly go that might result in his death? Rachel chewed on her lip, the images of Angie beating him to death running through her head like some sort of fucked up slideshow she couldn't escape. Then she knew where to go. Stonyham. After all, he'd been said to frequent places to meet women of immoral status, and there was nowhere else more immoral than Stonyham. Rachel shifted and took an exit in that direction. She just had to hold it together a little while longer. Just a little. while. longer.
Meanwhle, Wyatt and Amelia had gone to a nearby gas station and ordered the greasiest food they could possibly find, then drove to a somewhat wooded area where they used to go as teenagers to get high, now sitting on the hood of the Amelia's car munching away but not saying a word. Somehow, Wyatt thought, it felt like he'd managed to step back into time. Like nothing had ever actually changed, and they were still young and in love. He took another bite of his tacos and chewed as he glanced over at Amelia, who was sinking her teeth into a panini, and he smiled to himself. She then reached over, took the giant soda they'd gotten and took a nice long drink.
"This is weird," Wyatt finally said.
"You're tellin' me," Amelia said.
"To be fair, I didn't do it myself," Wyatt said, "I suppose I shouldn't take credit for it, but I was there, I watched, I didn't stop it from happening. I'm an accessory to murder."
Amelia shook her head as she pulled more foil back from her sandwich and took another large bite.
"Don't do that to yourself," she said, mumbling while chewing, "he did so much damage to you, don't let him feel guilty from beyond the grave too. You're free."
Wyatt finished his food, the wiped his hands on his pants. He took a long, deep breath and looked out at the night sky while Amelia finished her food. As she ate in silence, Wyatt couldn't help but let his eyes drift over to her, but not because of fond memories, and moreso because he wondered what she'd say about that if she knew he also was why her brother was dead. That he'd essentially okay'd the murder of Calvin. Had set it up and been there to witness it firsthand. That's when his mind turned to Angie. Where could she have gone? He pulled his cell phone out and wrote a quick text to her, but got no response, so he pocketed it again and sighed.
"...I can't believe you're here," Wyatt said, "there's so much I have to say to you."
Amelia turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised, and he sighed again. Finally, he thought, he'd get the chance to properly apologize. Meanwhile, Rachel had pulled into a motel parking lot and was knocking on the door to room 105. When it finally opened, Ricky was standing there, brushing his teeth, seeming confused to see her. She wouldn't look at him though, she just kept her eyes cast towards the ground.
"I need your help," she said, "I need you to come with me."
Ricky pulled his toothbrush from his mouth, grabbed his coat and pulled it on over his pajamas, then followed Rachel to the car. He didn't hesitate, he didn't ask questions, he simply did as he was asked. If he wanted to get to the bottom of all of this, he was going to have to cooperate...even if he didn't know just what he was cooperating with.
***
"Remember when we were in school and we snuck out at lunch to make out in my car?" Amelia asked, causing Wyatt to laugh and nod; she continued, chewing on the straw still in the lid of their drink, "that seemed so serious at the time, we couldn't wait to get away, just be alone together. Seems so far away now. Not insignificant at all, just...like it was a whole other life belonging to a whole other person. Course I say that as someone who hasn't really changed much at all so what do I really know."
"You still seem like the same girl I loved," Wyatt said, "which, yeah, is definitely a good thing. Not sure how you could possibly get any cooler than you already were."
"Oh, it's possible, there's no end to my coolness," Amelia replied, making him laugh harder. She smiled, blushed and set the drink back down, then said, "Wyatt, why was my brother meeting with you?"
This caught him off guard. He stopped laughing, growing uneasy, as he cleared his throat and exhaled.
"Uh, well, he was friends with Rachel, and I'm friends with Rachel, so we all just sort of knew eachother," Wyatt said, "nothing more than that, really. We all went to the highschool reunion, and we got back in touch, started being friends, doing things together. Why...like...what even brings this up?"
"I found his day planner, and he had an entry for a few days before he died," Amelia said, "that just said 'lunch with Wyatt', so it made me curious was all. I'm sorry, I'm not, like, accusing you of anything, obviously. It's just been hard. Especially for our dad. He's really...he's not doing well. It'll make him happy to know that Calvin had friends at the end. People who cared about him."
Wyatt felt his heart sting a little in his chest. Here she was, under the impression that he had cared for Calvin - and, yes, on some level he had - when, in actuality, he'd been the one to decide Calvin had to die. He'd been the one to orchestrate his murder. He'd seen it happen firsthand. He hadn't pulled the trigger himself, but as he told Kelly at the cemetery, he may as well have. He was just as guilty. Wyatt looked down at his shoes and shook his head.
"Amelia-"
"I was so mad," Amelia said, "when you ended things. I knew it wasn't what you wanted, I understood how scared of your dad you were, but I guess I felt like maybe your love for me was greater than those things. It hurt to learn I was wrong."
"You weren't wrong, you weren't," Wyatt said.
"Yes I was, but it's okay. It was easier to not fight him than to fight for me, and I understand that," Amelia said, "I'm just glad to hear he's dead."
"Yeah," Wyatt said solemnly, "yeah...me too."
***
"How did you even know where I was staying?" Ricky asked as Rachel drove in total silence, the heater on their faces.
"Angie," she said coldly, "Angie gave all of us your motel information, just on the off chance that we might need you for something."
"I...don't like how much that woman knows about me," Ricky said, looking out the window, away from Rachel, before asking, "who's car is this?"
"Wyatt's dads," Rachel said, "and I need your help to get rid of it. Or, well, rather, I need your help to make sure I don't get hurt while I try to get rid of it."
Ricky's stomach lurched forward. Why did they have his fathers car? Why were they trying to dump it? He licked his lips, anxious, because he already knew the answer to these questions. These people just kept having brushes with death, either intentionally or unintentionally. He shook his head and looked back towards Rachel, who clearly seemed shaken, and that's when he noticed - thanks to the dashboard lights - the mixture of mud and blood caked on her otherwise soft, pale hands, and he knew exactly what had happened.
"Where are we going, anyway?" he finally asked.
"Stonyham," she replied, staring straight at the road ahead.
"Makes sense you'd want some kind of male presence in a neighborhood like that," Ricky replied, "if I'm gonna help you, afterwards, you're gonna tell me exactly what went down to lead to this specific situation, alright? If I'm gonna help you people, I need to be kept as informed as possible. Especially now that Angie wants to bring that Art guy in on the fold."
Ths got Rachel's attention, and she glanced at him, her face contorted into a confused, yet curiously scared, look.
"What?" she asked.
"Oh, everyone failed to mention that to you, did they?" Ricky asked, causing Rachel concern. Why hadn't Wyatt brought this up to her? Perhaps he'd been waiting for the right chance, maybe after the play or something, but even then...she was usually in the loop as much as he was, and to not be informed on something so seemingly crucial, well, it felt like he didn't trust her. She shook her head. Stupid. Of course he trusted her. He had entrusted her to get rid of his fathers car, after all. That was a sign of immense trust. But why keep things to himself? Between himself and Angie? She curled her lip and shut her eyes into a narrow slit.
"That girl is a problem," Rachel said.
"She sure is," Ricky agreed, chuckling.
"...I don't like problems," Rachel said, almost snarling, and Ricky grimaced.
***
"When Calvin and I were kids," Amelia said, she and Wyatt now lying on the hood of the car, relaxing, "we used to leave these notes around for our parents, always hidden for them to find, like some kind of weird treasure hunt. When I got back to the house, our...MY...dad, he apparently had adopted the habit, cause he pulled all of Calvin's important papers from an air vent in his home office."
Wyatt chuckled, taking a sip from the drink, nodding as he listened.
"It kinda hurt, cool as it was to see that, cause it was something Calvin and I had come up with together," Amelia continued, "and now he's gone. My brother is gone, and along with him are all the things we made up together. Now it's just me, and the memories of things too painful to revisit. How am I supposed to continue when a big part of your identity is so intrinsically tied to someone who's no longer here?"
Wyatt sighed and nodded, exhaling.
"Yeah," he said, "yeah I know what you mean. Not having my father around, you'd think I'd feel relieved, and I suppose, on some level I do, but I also feel weird. There's no threat to my life anymore. He's gone. I mean, there's definitely threats to my life, but not from him, not from the one person who managed to scare me. He's gone. An insurmountable challenge has been eliminated, and now that the wall is down, I feel almost...invincible, like I can do anything, no matter how hard it seems."
Amelia sat up, cross legged, and looked around at their location. She was surrounded by the past. This place, this town, her family, Wyatt. All of it so familiar, yet so foreign. She'd worked hard to get out from under the shadow of this life, create something new, she couldn't allow herself to get dragged back into it. Amelia pulled her bushy hair back up into a ponytail and tied it up, then bit her lip and glanced at Wyatt, who looked over at her and smirked.
"What?" he asked.
"...I loved you so much," Amelia said, "and I always thought, if we ever had this kind of reconcilation, that it'd be...I don't know...more dramatic. I always saw it going either one of two ways. I saw it being me forgiving you and you embracing me and we'd run off somewhere, completely in love as we'd always been, OR, I wouldn't manage to forgive you and I'd throw hands."
"I have to admit, the second one would be kinda amusing, cause I've seen you try to be intimidating," Wyatt said, the both of them laughing. Wyatt sat up, also cross legged, and the both of them turned to face the other; Wyatt reached out and brushed some errant hair she'd missed from her face, making her blush, as he added, "truth be told, I'll always love you in some way. How could I not. You were my first everything. But it isn't the same kind of love that I felt then. If anything, my guilt of how it ended far surpasses the love now. But I'm glad to know that we could manage to be civil, even when you have every right in the world not to be."
"Well, regardless, you're married, and I wouldn't wanna be a homewrecker. Plus, it isn't like I'm staying in town after dealing with Calvin's estate," Amelia said, shrugging, "but I agree. It's nice that we can just be friendly."
"Marriage isn't..." Wyatt started, sighing deeply, knowing how much it was going to hurt him to say this, before finishing with, "marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be."
He loved Scarlett. He knew this. He had made a life with her, a family, and he did genuinely love her. And yet...yet his attachment to her came about almost primarily because of his fathers presence. Because his father encouraged him to end things with Amelia, and then encouraged Wyatt - once he'd met Scarlett - to pursue because he found her to be a far more 'appropriate' partner for his son. So while Wyatt loved her, he also recognized that she was the last lingering thing keeping him tethered to his father. Well, besides the business, but he couldn't give that up without ruining them financially. And then...
...and then there was Kelly. God, did she complicate things. Wyatt couldn't deny he felt something deeper for her, something he'd been fighting to ignore, likely for a good while now, and didn't want to act on both for the sake of his marriage and for the sake of their friendship. He also, like Amelia, used to fantasize about their reconciliation one day, and maybe getting back together, but now, actually being here with her, what he found was that all he wanted, after the night he'd just had, was to go to Kelly's. To feel her comfort. Her warmth. Her joy. Fuck. He was in love with her, and he didn't know how to deal with that, especially now on top of everything else.
"So," Wyatt finally asked, "uh, why did you and Calvin do the little note thing anyway?"
"Oh," Amelia said, chuckling, "well, it's kinda embarrassing but, when we were kids we always thought it'd be neat to be spies. You know, embroiled in a mystery, fighting for our lives, dealing with secrecy, that sort of thing. I guess that's what spurred it. We used to watch a lot of spy movies and shows on TV when we were younger, and it was just sort of a common interest."
Wyatt nodded solemnly. If only she knew. If only she knew that her brother had become exactly what they'd pretend to be. Which, he supposed, made Wyatt himself the villain.
***
Rachel and Ricky found the most secluded spot in Stonyham, somewhere dingy, run down but still accessible, and they left Rufus's nice car there after removing any and all personal items, just to make it also appear to be a robbery of sorts, if the car itself wasn't, in fact, stolen soon by someone. They then went to the nearest car rental and Ricky got them a car, opting to drive them all the way back to town. Rachel, now sitting in the passenger seat, couldn't help but think back to the events of the evening preceeding picking up Ricky.
Why was Wyatt giving Angie a pass, but not Calvin? She knew why, realistically. Because Calvin had been a threat not only to them but to those around them, to the point where he was bringing innocents in on his destructive tendencies. Angie only operated solely when Wyatt needed her to. So was that it? Did it all just boil down to control? She scoffed. She could remember when Wyatt had been weirded out by Angie, had wanted to persuade her NOT to follow him, NOT to help. Now, suddenly, she was their savior? Their ace in the hole? Truly strange. And where did that leave Rachel herself? She'd always seen herself as Wyatt's got to confidant, his biggest supporter, the one whose input he most valued. Now she felt insignificant, relegated to tasks like the one tonight. Rachel finally cracked and started sobbing uncontrollably, taking Ricky by surprise. Ricky pulled the car over to the side of the road and let it idle as he unbuckled his seat belt, then tugged at Rachel's shoulder sleeve, pulling her towards him, opening his arms.
"C'mere," he said softly, and she nodded, understanding, as she collapsed into him, allowing him to hold her and rub her back; he sighed and added, "that's it, you're alright, I got you. Everything's gonna be fine, I promise."
All Rachel could think about was going home to Sun Rai, but it was now so late, she'd been gone so long, and she was caked in mud and blood, looking like an absolute fright. She also wouldn't be coming home in the same car. She knew exactly how Sun Rai would percieve the whole thing. But it was all she wanted. She wanted to climb into bed, feel her waist be hugged, feel Sun Rai's body against her own and feel safe for the first time in ages. But all she could have right now was this, this man she barely knew, this private detective, holding her, reassuring her, and while she was grateful, she had to admit...it wasn't what she wanted.
Meanwhile, after Amelia and Wyatt went back to the school and Amelia took off, Wyatt climbed into his car and started driving, but unlike Rachel, home was the last place Wyatt wanted to go. Instead he drove into the city, until he reached the downtown area where he parked on the street and headed into an apartment building. He ran up the stairs and wound up knocking on a door, but to no answer. Another knock and this time the door swug open and a half asleep Kelly stood there in her sleepwear, tugging her silk robe closed over her body once she saw who it was. The two stared at one another, and Kelly could see the pain in Wyatt's face. He didn't need to use words. She understood it all nonverbally, that something awful had happened. Kelly stepped aside and allowed Wyatt to come in, shutting the door behind them.
"I just needed to see you," Wyatt said, and Kelly nodded, walking towards him as he paced anxiously, adding, "I've had a really bad night, Kelly, and I...all I wanted to do was come see you."
"Well, I'm here, and you're here now too, so," Kelly said, smiling, before holding her arms out and allowing him to hold her and cry. She squeezed him tightly. If all she could ever really offer him was comfort, friendship, then she'd gladly take that over nothing. Wyatt wanted to pull away, to hold her face and kiss her, to feel his lips against hers, to finally know what it was like to be in love again, but instead he just cried. He just cried and cried and cried. And come the morning, when he'd wake up on her bed, still fully clothed, and she was still holding him, he'd know how it felt to be loved, regardless of the lack of romantic intimacy. For right now though, he had this.
For right now, he had Kelly.
And as for Angie? Angie was pulling up to the compound and pressing the button on the speakerbox. It crackled to life, and Art's voice came through loud and clear.
"Do you have any idea what time it is? Who's calling on me at this hour?" he asked.
"Art, it's Angie," she said, "I know it's late but...I need help."
"Are you okay?" Art asked, opening the gates for her to drive through.
"Yeah," she replied, "but I need to hide a body."
Meanwhle, Wyatt and Amelia had gone to a nearby gas station and ordered the greasiest food they could possibly find, then drove to a somewhat wooded area where they used to go as teenagers to get high, now sitting on the hood of the Amelia's car munching away but not saying a word. Somehow, Wyatt thought, it felt like he'd managed to step back into time. Like nothing had ever actually changed, and they were still young and in love. He took another bite of his tacos and chewed as he glanced over at Amelia, who was sinking her teeth into a panini, and he smiled to himself. She then reached over, took the giant soda they'd gotten and took a nice long drink.
"This is weird," Wyatt finally said.
"You're tellin' me," Amelia said.
"To be fair, I didn't do it myself," Wyatt said, "I suppose I shouldn't take credit for it, but I was there, I watched, I didn't stop it from happening. I'm an accessory to murder."
Amelia shook her head as she pulled more foil back from her sandwich and took another large bite.
"Don't do that to yourself," she said, mumbling while chewing, "he did so much damage to you, don't let him feel guilty from beyond the grave too. You're free."
Wyatt finished his food, the wiped his hands on his pants. He took a long, deep breath and looked out at the night sky while Amelia finished her food. As she ate in silence, Wyatt couldn't help but let his eyes drift over to her, but not because of fond memories, and moreso because he wondered what she'd say about that if she knew he also was why her brother was dead. That he'd essentially okay'd the murder of Calvin. Had set it up and been there to witness it firsthand. That's when his mind turned to Angie. Where could she have gone? He pulled his cell phone out and wrote a quick text to her, but got no response, so he pocketed it again and sighed.
"...I can't believe you're here," Wyatt said, "there's so much I have to say to you."
Amelia turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised, and he sighed again. Finally, he thought, he'd get the chance to properly apologize. Meanwhile, Rachel had pulled into a motel parking lot and was knocking on the door to room 105. When it finally opened, Ricky was standing there, brushing his teeth, seeming confused to see her. She wouldn't look at him though, she just kept her eyes cast towards the ground.
"I need your help," she said, "I need you to come with me."
Ricky pulled his toothbrush from his mouth, grabbed his coat and pulled it on over his pajamas, then followed Rachel to the car. He didn't hesitate, he didn't ask questions, he simply did as he was asked. If he wanted to get to the bottom of all of this, he was going to have to cooperate...even if he didn't know just what he was cooperating with.
***
"Remember when we were in school and we snuck out at lunch to make out in my car?" Amelia asked, causing Wyatt to laugh and nod; she continued, chewing on the straw still in the lid of their drink, "that seemed so serious at the time, we couldn't wait to get away, just be alone together. Seems so far away now. Not insignificant at all, just...like it was a whole other life belonging to a whole other person. Course I say that as someone who hasn't really changed much at all so what do I really know."
"You still seem like the same girl I loved," Wyatt said, "which, yeah, is definitely a good thing. Not sure how you could possibly get any cooler than you already were."
"Oh, it's possible, there's no end to my coolness," Amelia replied, making him laugh harder. She smiled, blushed and set the drink back down, then said, "Wyatt, why was my brother meeting with you?"
This caught him off guard. He stopped laughing, growing uneasy, as he cleared his throat and exhaled.
"Uh, well, he was friends with Rachel, and I'm friends with Rachel, so we all just sort of knew eachother," Wyatt said, "nothing more than that, really. We all went to the highschool reunion, and we got back in touch, started being friends, doing things together. Why...like...what even brings this up?"
"I found his day planner, and he had an entry for a few days before he died," Amelia said, "that just said 'lunch with Wyatt', so it made me curious was all. I'm sorry, I'm not, like, accusing you of anything, obviously. It's just been hard. Especially for our dad. He's really...he's not doing well. It'll make him happy to know that Calvin had friends at the end. People who cared about him."
Wyatt felt his heart sting a little in his chest. Here she was, under the impression that he had cared for Calvin - and, yes, on some level he had - when, in actuality, he'd been the one to decide Calvin had to die. He'd been the one to orchestrate his murder. He'd seen it happen firsthand. He hadn't pulled the trigger himself, but as he told Kelly at the cemetery, he may as well have. He was just as guilty. Wyatt looked down at his shoes and shook his head.
"Amelia-"
"I was so mad," Amelia said, "when you ended things. I knew it wasn't what you wanted, I understood how scared of your dad you were, but I guess I felt like maybe your love for me was greater than those things. It hurt to learn I was wrong."
"You weren't wrong, you weren't," Wyatt said.
"Yes I was, but it's okay. It was easier to not fight him than to fight for me, and I understand that," Amelia said, "I'm just glad to hear he's dead."
"Yeah," Wyatt said solemnly, "yeah...me too."
***
"How did you even know where I was staying?" Ricky asked as Rachel drove in total silence, the heater on their faces.
"Angie," she said coldly, "Angie gave all of us your motel information, just on the off chance that we might need you for something."
"I...don't like how much that woman knows about me," Ricky said, looking out the window, away from Rachel, before asking, "who's car is this?"
"Wyatt's dads," Rachel said, "and I need your help to get rid of it. Or, well, rather, I need your help to make sure I don't get hurt while I try to get rid of it."
Ricky's stomach lurched forward. Why did they have his fathers car? Why were they trying to dump it? He licked his lips, anxious, because he already knew the answer to these questions. These people just kept having brushes with death, either intentionally or unintentionally. He shook his head and looked back towards Rachel, who clearly seemed shaken, and that's when he noticed - thanks to the dashboard lights - the mixture of mud and blood caked on her otherwise soft, pale hands, and he knew exactly what had happened.
"Where are we going, anyway?" he finally asked.
"Stonyham," she replied, staring straight at the road ahead.
"Makes sense you'd want some kind of male presence in a neighborhood like that," Ricky replied, "if I'm gonna help you, afterwards, you're gonna tell me exactly what went down to lead to this specific situation, alright? If I'm gonna help you people, I need to be kept as informed as possible. Especially now that Angie wants to bring that Art guy in on the fold."
Ths got Rachel's attention, and she glanced at him, her face contorted into a confused, yet curiously scared, look.
"What?" she asked.
"Oh, everyone failed to mention that to you, did they?" Ricky asked, causing Rachel concern. Why hadn't Wyatt brought this up to her? Perhaps he'd been waiting for the right chance, maybe after the play or something, but even then...she was usually in the loop as much as he was, and to not be informed on something so seemingly crucial, well, it felt like he didn't trust her. She shook her head. Stupid. Of course he trusted her. He had entrusted her to get rid of his fathers car, after all. That was a sign of immense trust. But why keep things to himself? Between himself and Angie? She curled her lip and shut her eyes into a narrow slit.
"That girl is a problem," Rachel said.
"She sure is," Ricky agreed, chuckling.
"...I don't like problems," Rachel said, almost snarling, and Ricky grimaced.
***
"When Calvin and I were kids," Amelia said, she and Wyatt now lying on the hood of the car, relaxing, "we used to leave these notes around for our parents, always hidden for them to find, like some kind of weird treasure hunt. When I got back to the house, our...MY...dad, he apparently had adopted the habit, cause he pulled all of Calvin's important papers from an air vent in his home office."
Wyatt chuckled, taking a sip from the drink, nodding as he listened.
"It kinda hurt, cool as it was to see that, cause it was something Calvin and I had come up with together," Amelia continued, "and now he's gone. My brother is gone, and along with him are all the things we made up together. Now it's just me, and the memories of things too painful to revisit. How am I supposed to continue when a big part of your identity is so intrinsically tied to someone who's no longer here?"
Wyatt sighed and nodded, exhaling.
"Yeah," he said, "yeah I know what you mean. Not having my father around, you'd think I'd feel relieved, and I suppose, on some level I do, but I also feel weird. There's no threat to my life anymore. He's gone. I mean, there's definitely threats to my life, but not from him, not from the one person who managed to scare me. He's gone. An insurmountable challenge has been eliminated, and now that the wall is down, I feel almost...invincible, like I can do anything, no matter how hard it seems."
Amelia sat up, cross legged, and looked around at their location. She was surrounded by the past. This place, this town, her family, Wyatt. All of it so familiar, yet so foreign. She'd worked hard to get out from under the shadow of this life, create something new, she couldn't allow herself to get dragged back into it. Amelia pulled her bushy hair back up into a ponytail and tied it up, then bit her lip and glanced at Wyatt, who looked over at her and smirked.
"What?" he asked.
"...I loved you so much," Amelia said, "and I always thought, if we ever had this kind of reconcilation, that it'd be...I don't know...more dramatic. I always saw it going either one of two ways. I saw it being me forgiving you and you embracing me and we'd run off somewhere, completely in love as we'd always been, OR, I wouldn't manage to forgive you and I'd throw hands."
"I have to admit, the second one would be kinda amusing, cause I've seen you try to be intimidating," Wyatt said, the both of them laughing. Wyatt sat up, also cross legged, and the both of them turned to face the other; Wyatt reached out and brushed some errant hair she'd missed from her face, making her blush, as he added, "truth be told, I'll always love you in some way. How could I not. You were my first everything. But it isn't the same kind of love that I felt then. If anything, my guilt of how it ended far surpasses the love now. But I'm glad to know that we could manage to be civil, even when you have every right in the world not to be."
"Well, regardless, you're married, and I wouldn't wanna be a homewrecker. Plus, it isn't like I'm staying in town after dealing with Calvin's estate," Amelia said, shrugging, "but I agree. It's nice that we can just be friendly."
"Marriage isn't..." Wyatt started, sighing deeply, knowing how much it was going to hurt him to say this, before finishing with, "marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be."
He loved Scarlett. He knew this. He had made a life with her, a family, and he did genuinely love her. And yet...yet his attachment to her came about almost primarily because of his fathers presence. Because his father encouraged him to end things with Amelia, and then encouraged Wyatt - once he'd met Scarlett - to pursue because he found her to be a far more 'appropriate' partner for his son. So while Wyatt loved her, he also recognized that she was the last lingering thing keeping him tethered to his father. Well, besides the business, but he couldn't give that up without ruining them financially. And then...
...and then there was Kelly. God, did she complicate things. Wyatt couldn't deny he felt something deeper for her, something he'd been fighting to ignore, likely for a good while now, and didn't want to act on both for the sake of his marriage and for the sake of their friendship. He also, like Amelia, used to fantasize about their reconciliation one day, and maybe getting back together, but now, actually being here with her, what he found was that all he wanted, after the night he'd just had, was to go to Kelly's. To feel her comfort. Her warmth. Her joy. Fuck. He was in love with her, and he didn't know how to deal with that, especially now on top of everything else.
"So," Wyatt finally asked, "uh, why did you and Calvin do the little note thing anyway?"
"Oh," Amelia said, chuckling, "well, it's kinda embarrassing but, when we were kids we always thought it'd be neat to be spies. You know, embroiled in a mystery, fighting for our lives, dealing with secrecy, that sort of thing. I guess that's what spurred it. We used to watch a lot of spy movies and shows on TV when we were younger, and it was just sort of a common interest."
Wyatt nodded solemnly. If only she knew. If only she knew that her brother had become exactly what they'd pretend to be. Which, he supposed, made Wyatt himself the villain.
***
Rachel and Ricky found the most secluded spot in Stonyham, somewhere dingy, run down but still accessible, and they left Rufus's nice car there after removing any and all personal items, just to make it also appear to be a robbery of sorts, if the car itself wasn't, in fact, stolen soon by someone. They then went to the nearest car rental and Ricky got them a car, opting to drive them all the way back to town. Rachel, now sitting in the passenger seat, couldn't help but think back to the events of the evening preceeding picking up Ricky.
Why was Wyatt giving Angie a pass, but not Calvin? She knew why, realistically. Because Calvin had been a threat not only to them but to those around them, to the point where he was bringing innocents in on his destructive tendencies. Angie only operated solely when Wyatt needed her to. So was that it? Did it all just boil down to control? She scoffed. She could remember when Wyatt had been weirded out by Angie, had wanted to persuade her NOT to follow him, NOT to help. Now, suddenly, she was their savior? Their ace in the hole? Truly strange. And where did that leave Rachel herself? She'd always seen herself as Wyatt's got to confidant, his biggest supporter, the one whose input he most valued. Now she felt insignificant, relegated to tasks like the one tonight. Rachel finally cracked and started sobbing uncontrollably, taking Ricky by surprise. Ricky pulled the car over to the side of the road and let it idle as he unbuckled his seat belt, then tugged at Rachel's shoulder sleeve, pulling her towards him, opening his arms.
"C'mere," he said softly, and she nodded, understanding, as she collapsed into him, allowing him to hold her and rub her back; he sighed and added, "that's it, you're alright, I got you. Everything's gonna be fine, I promise."
All Rachel could think about was going home to Sun Rai, but it was now so late, she'd been gone so long, and she was caked in mud and blood, looking like an absolute fright. She also wouldn't be coming home in the same car. She knew exactly how Sun Rai would percieve the whole thing. But it was all she wanted. She wanted to climb into bed, feel her waist be hugged, feel Sun Rai's body against her own and feel safe for the first time in ages. But all she could have right now was this, this man she barely knew, this private detective, holding her, reassuring her, and while she was grateful, she had to admit...it wasn't what she wanted.
Meanwhile, after Amelia and Wyatt went back to the school and Amelia took off, Wyatt climbed into his car and started driving, but unlike Rachel, home was the last place Wyatt wanted to go. Instead he drove into the city, until he reached the downtown area where he parked on the street and headed into an apartment building. He ran up the stairs and wound up knocking on a door, but to no answer. Another knock and this time the door swug open and a half asleep Kelly stood there in her sleepwear, tugging her silk robe closed over her body once she saw who it was. The two stared at one another, and Kelly could see the pain in Wyatt's face. He didn't need to use words. She understood it all nonverbally, that something awful had happened. Kelly stepped aside and allowed Wyatt to come in, shutting the door behind them.
"I just needed to see you," Wyatt said, and Kelly nodded, walking towards him as he paced anxiously, adding, "I've had a really bad night, Kelly, and I...all I wanted to do was come see you."
"Well, I'm here, and you're here now too, so," Kelly said, smiling, before holding her arms out and allowing him to hold her and cry. She squeezed him tightly. If all she could ever really offer him was comfort, friendship, then she'd gladly take that over nothing. Wyatt wanted to pull away, to hold her face and kiss her, to feel his lips against hers, to finally know what it was like to be in love again, but instead he just cried. He just cried and cried and cried. And come the morning, when he'd wake up on her bed, still fully clothed, and she was still holding him, he'd know how it felt to be loved, regardless of the lack of romantic intimacy. For right now though, he had this.
For right now, he had Kelly.
And as for Angie? Angie was pulling up to the compound and pressing the button on the speakerbox. It crackled to life, and Art's voice came through loud and clear.
"Do you have any idea what time it is? Who's calling on me at this hour?" he asked.
"Art, it's Angie," she said, "I know it's late but...I need help."
"Are you okay?" Art asked, opening the gates for her to drive through.
"Yeah," she replied, "but I need to hide a body."