"Babe, I really think you should've had dinner with your parents," Cassie broke the awkward silence between them since they left the house. She sat across from him at the table, in a requested booth somewhere away from people. "I mean, clearly it's eating you. You haven't really spoken since you talked to them and I don't really like seeing you like this. What else did they even say--?"
"Besides expecting me to bail on our plans and ditch you for a dinner about family business?" Wyatt sneered, directing the anger he built up for his parents in her direction. "Nothing, really, that's how it always is with them. It's always vague, indirect bullshit. Like they're beating around the bush. I'm sick of it honestly."
Cassie sighed, "Well, I'm sorry it wasn't what you expected it to be. But I meant what I said. I really think you should've had dinner with them. It's not too late--"
"And leave you?" he looked at her in disbelief.
"It'll only be for a couple of hours at the most," she snickered in an attempt to lighten the mood, "And honestly? How often do you get to see them? I don't think it would be fair if I stole you for tonight when I have you every other day that they're not here--"
Wyatt sighed, hanging his head. As much as he would've hated to admit it, she was right. He didn't get to see his parents that often. If he was lucky, once a month. He looked around the diner for a second to veer away from making a decision. The longer he prolonged it, the longer he could just be in this moment with her. Once again she had hit him where he liked it. Though he thought he could hide what he was feeling from the world, it slipped his mind that she was the one who saw right through him.
"So, you won't hate me if I go?" Wyatt frowned, meeting her gaze. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently, "Because I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to know what they had to say."
"Of course not," she blushed, feeling accomplished when she had finally pulled him from his funk. "They're your parents babe, and I'll be damned if I'm the reason they don't get to see you when they want to."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she sat up and leaned in to kiss him, "Now please go, before I change my mind," she teased. Wyatt smiled from ear to ear, "I'll have my mom pick me up from here."
"Call you when I'm done?" Wyatt asked for permission as he stood up out of the booth. "Pick you up and still watch that movie?"
"Yeah, you better," she smiled, "Because I have three bags of candy and box of popcorn that I will eat by myself if you don't."
If there was one thing that Wyatt was certain of, it was that he had never been happier in his life like he was at this moment. But if there was another, more vulnerable that he was reluctant to admit? She was the cause of all of it. Nothing made him happier than she did. Nothing. And nothing could've changed the way he felt.
On the mild drive back to his parents estate, Wyatt was stopped by an accident while taking the back roads. Two cars were flipped over and totaled beyond repair. An ambulance and three cop cars blocked the road for any drivers hoping to get by. He looked out the window, curious as to what happened.
There was a woman, bawling as she was talking to an officer. She had a blanket placed over her and blood covering half of her face. Both paramedics frantically rushed a wounded body into the back of their camper as another ambulance pulled up shortly after. On the ground covered by a blanket near one of the totaled vehicles was a lifeless body, killed by the accident.
One of the officers finally stepped out of their car and walked over to Wyatt's Hemi. Wyatt rolled his window down when he saw the man approaching. The officer placed his hand on the hood of Wyatt's car and leaned over to speak to him through the passenger window. But before he could utter the first vowel, the sobbing woman cried loudly in the background.
"It killed him, it killed my baby boy. God no, my beautiful baby boy--"
"Sorry son," the officer apologized over the weeping woman's piercing cry. "But this roads closed. Your best bets gonna be to turn around and hop on I-15, then get off on Henderson--"
"Please, my parents live at the end of this private road and I'm just trying to--"
"Your parents?" the officer scratched his head, flashing the light in Wyatt's face to get a better look at him. "You the Witcher's boy?"
"Yes sir, and I was just trying to get home for dinner--"
"Dinner?" the officer looked at him with an even more puzzled look on his face.
"Yeah?" Wyatt nodded in confusion. "Why? What's going on?"
There was a brief awkward silence. The officer excused himself for a moment as he got on his radio and began talking to the dispatcher. What was that about? Wyatt tried to listen in on the officers conversation but it was hard to hear over the sobbing woman's cries.
"Alright son," the officer came back down to the passengers window, tapping the roof of the car. "I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the car--"
"What? Why??" Wyatt looked at him in shock.
"Because I need you come down to the station with me, we just wanna ask you a few questions--"
"Are you serious? What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know how to tell you this kid," the officer hesitated, "But your parents were both murdered and your car was the last one seen on your security system leaving the crime scene so you're going to have to come with me--"
Wyatt froze. The word murdered was the last thing ringing in his ears, over and over again. His heart was pounding, blood coursing faster through his veins. He couldn't believe it-- he didn't believe it. How could they be dead? Wyatt was just with them. He got out of the car slowly and placed his hands on the hood of his Hemi. The officer read him his rights, mirandizing him, as he pulled Wyatt's hands behind his back and cuffed them. What the hell was going on?
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