The Game Has Changed Read online

  The Game Has Changed

  D. L. Wu

  Live like there’s no tomorrow. Love like it’s your last.

  The cold, driving rain poured across the hood of the sleek black sports car as it thundered down the dark road. There were no streetlights illuminating the stretch of road, although the driver could see the lights of a city in the far distance. The lack of light on the slick road before him made it harder to visualize the confines of the narrow two-lane highway. He could make out a foggy moon filtering in and out of the sky, even with the looming rain clouds above, but it did nothing to assist in guiding his way.

  His overwhelming sense of anxiety didn't help matters. He was afraid, like he’d never been before. It wasn't easy to frighten Evan Baedeker, but he was terrified, none-the-less. He was used to driving vehicles at such frenetic speeds within his career, yet it was all safely choreographed and rarely, did he feel this sort of nerve-wracking unease. Now with the slick roads, the pounding rain on his windshield, the unfamiliar surroundings, and the unknown future he faced, this was all so very real. His situation was very treacherous; his life even more precarious.

  Despite his nervousness, he noticed that the sports car he was driving seemed to handle the slick roads rather well. He really loved the car, a shiny, brand new black Ferrari 458 Spider. He had purchased it a few weeks ago in Los Angeles and had it shipped to New York City because of the job he’d taken there. A job he had expected to last for several months.

  Now, that was all shot to hell. In his desperation, he foolishly thought he could attempt driving it all the way back to his home in Malibu. Yet deep down, he realized it was far from a rational idea. Could he make it home? And even if he did, would he be arrested upon his arrival?

  The Game Has Changed

  Copyright © October 2012 D. L. Wu

  Published © October 2012 D. L. Wu

  ISBN: 978-0-9883454-0-9 ebook

  Cover Art Design By: Susana Pacheco

  Edited By: Nancy Medina

  All rights reserved.

  The author retains sole copyright to her contributions to this book.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  For information and inquiries, please address: D. L. Wu via [email protected].

  This book is a work of fiction and any similarities to any persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  To my family.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I wish to personally thank the following people for their contributions to the creation of this book and for their continued inspiration.

  Thank you to Nancy Medina, for taking on the daunting task of editing the story for me and for her continuous encouragement and support in pursuing this publishing dream.

  Thank you to Susana Pacheco, for offering to create the amazing cover art and for her unwavering faith in me.

  Thank you to my sister, for helping push me out of my comfort zone and encouraging me to do this.

  Thank you to my husband and three children, for supporting me in my dedication to writing.

  Thank you to actor, Ben Barnes, for being my muse and inspiration.

  CHAPTER 1

  The cold, driving rain poured across the hood of the sleek black sports car as it thundered down the dark road. There were no streetlights illuminating the stretch of road, although the driver could see the lights of a city in the far distance. The lack of light on the slick road before him made it harder to visualize the confines of the narrow two-lane highway. He could make out a foggy moon filtering in and out of the sky, even with the looming rain clouds above, but it did nothing to assist in guiding his way.

  His overwhelming sense of anxiety didn't help matters. He was afraid, like he’d never been before. It wasn't easy to frighten Evan Baedeker, but he was terrified, none-the-less. He was used to driving vehicles at such frenetic speeds within his career, yet it was all safely choreographed and rarely, did he feel this sort of nerve-wracking unease. Now with the slick roads, the pounding rain on his windshield, the unfamiliar surroundings, and the unknown future he faced, this was all so very real. His situation was very treacherous; his life even more precarious.

  Despite his nervousness, he noticed that the sports car he was driving seemed to handle the slick roads rather well. He really loved the car, a shiny, brand new black Ferrari 458 Spider. He had purchased it a few weeks ago in Los Angeles and had it shipped to New York City because of the job he’d taken there. A job he had expected to last for several months.

  Now, that was all shot to hell. In his desperation, he foolishly thought he could attempt driving it all the way back to his home in Malibu. Yet deep down, he realized it was far from a rational idea. Could he make it home? And even if he did, would he be arrested upon his arrival?

  Occasionally, he noticed the speedometer hovering above the ninety mile-an-hour mark. Soon, the unpleasant smell of burnt rubber began to permeate through the air. His mind began to race with worry about a blown tire in the midst of this unfamiliar place in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. Yet, he did nothing to ease his foot off of the gas pedal. His confusion was paramount; his heart, racing.

  Aggressively, he groped the seat beside him, trying to feel for the pack of cigarettes he had thrown there earlier. He needed the crutch right now. His nerves were more frazzled than he ever remembered. He had tried to cut back on his smoking as his profession required him to be in excellent health, but it was his only vice and many times he rationalized their use. Now was definitely one of those times.

  “Damn!” he said aloud, unable to feel the pack, at first.

  He next dug through the inside of his jacket pocket to see if he had absent-mindedly stuck it there, but his pockets turned up empty. The same hand slowly slid along his other side underneath his jacket and came to rest on his shoulder gun holster concealed beneath his arm. The small
handgun sat snugly in place, searing with the warmth of his body heat. Though he was actually afraid of having a gun, he was well aware that he had no permit to carry a concealed weapon. It somehow comforted him at the same time on this horrible and uncertain night.

  When the search for his cigarettes proved fruitless, he sighed and smoothed back his long brown and sweaty hair from across his dark-brown eyes. He felt like crying, yet he knew that it wasn't something he was used to.

  Reaching toward the seat next to him once more as if utilizing one last, desperate attempt to find the cigarettes, he glanced away from the road for just a millisecond and saw the pack upon the floor. Another sigh of frustration escaped him. He wanted the cigarettes badly.

  Taking his foot off of the gas pedal ever so slightly in order to slow down the car’s frenetic speed, he quickly reached down to retrieve the pack. Upon looking back at the road, he found that he had temporarily swerved into the oncoming lane. Luckily, no other car was coming in his direction so he swung the steering wheel quickly back around while at the same time cramming a cigarette between his lips.

  Unfortunately, his speed and momentary inattentiveness got the best of him. The car skidded out of control across the slick highway. In a panic, Evan tried to compensate for the skid. Despite his knowledge of high-speed driving, he was unable to pull out of it. The car roared off of the side of the road and flipped over several times before it finally came to rest upon its hood.

  ***

  Everything around him was eerily quiet and dark. Evan slowly opened his eyes as a strange sensation filled his entire body. The very first thought that came into his head was, Am I dead? Yet if that was so, why was he feeling such incredible pain?

  The pain racked through every conceivable spot within his body that he could name. He had never felt anything quite this bad before. Sure, he had been injured numerous times in the past as it was part of the downside of being a movie stuntman. He had broken so many bones that he’d lost count and had been in full traction at least twice. This time, unfortunately, was different.

  When his eyes became accustomed to the intense darkness, he could finally make out where he was. He was lying on the inside hood of the car. It had flipped over completely and because he hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, he was no longer in the driver's seat. He was now technically above it.

  Luckily, he had not been thrown into the steering wheel or the windshield, for that matter. How that had not happened was a miracle. The driver's side window had been slightly opened and now most of it was broken away. He figured it was the only way he would be able to get out of the car. Slowly, and in intense pain, he eased himself through the broken window, unable to avoid cutting his chest on some of the twisted metal.

  He felt the wet ground beneath him as he collapsed onto his stomach once he was outside of the car. An agonizing moan escaped him, piercing the quiet darkness around him. Once his momentary bout of panic was over, he stopped and listened. The only sounds he could hear was the soft rustle of the trees all around him, a plinking of the much lighter rainfall across the car beside him, and a faint popping and creaking coming from the car itself.

  He could feel blood oozing down the side of his face. Reaching up to feel his forehead, he quickly discovered the reason. A large gash menaced his features from the top of his left eyebrow and almost all the way across.

  This can't be happening! he thought desperately.

  Several long moments passed as he lay upon the cold, wet ground. He forced himself to sit up, the pain suddenly surging through him. He groaned and grasped his head with both hands in an attempt to grapple with the intensity of the pain. Despite the fact that he knew he was seriously injured, there was no way he could present himself to a hospital. No way, whatsoever.

  There would most likely be an APB out for him. Hospitals in the area would also be alerted. He wasn't exactly sure how far from Manhattan he was now, but it felt as if he’d driven for several hours already. Yet they would be looking for him, none-the-less, across state lines. Of that, he was certain, for a murder had been committed.

  Evan pulled himself to his feet, groaning the entire time, but he knew he couldn't stay there. The accident would be discovered soon and the authorities probably knew the car’s make and model by now. He had to walk and needed to get away as quickly as possible. Where he would go didn't enter his mind at any given moment, for he was much too confused to really contemplate the situation he now found himself in.

  CHAPTER 2

  “I hate the way I look!” Jaime Johnson said aloud to her reflection within the mirror as she brushed her shoulder-length light blonde hair.

  She stuck her tongue out at herself and then sighed. Maybe I should always do that! she thought as she stuck her tongue out again and made various other faces at her mirrored image. Suddenly, her bedroom door swung open. She turned quickly to see her Aunt Mary standing in the doorway.

  Mary had a pleasant and welcoming smile waiting for her. “Almost ready for school? You don't want to be late on your first day back.”

  Jaime nodded, but looked glumly at her aunt.

  “Hey, it won't be so bad now,” she assured her, hurrying over to her niece to envelope her within a tight hug. “You’ve only missed a few weeks. The teachers promised to help you get back up to speed.”

  “I know,” Jaime sighed, “but I really need to keep my grades up this last year of high school, if I want to make it into an Ivy League like Daddy wanted . . . It will be harder now that I've missed so much.”

  “Well, you certainly had a good reason to miss school, Sweetheart.”

  Jaime sighed again. “Yes,” she agreed and pulled away from her aunt to pick up her backpack. “I'll be down in a minute.”

  A look of pity emerged upon Mary’s face. “Okay. Don’t take too long. I have breakfast waiting for you.”

  “Thanks,” Jaime replied, watching her aunt close the door behind her.

  Standing in front of her dresser, Jaime stared at the last remnants of her beloved late father that she possessed. She noted the framed picture of the two of them together. It had been taken just last summer, only a few weeks before he’d died tragically in a car accident. Every time she looked at the photo, tears stung her eyes. She was tired of crying, for she’d been doing it non-stop for over a month now.

  Her father, James Johnson, had been her only parent. Her mother, Shawna, had left them when Jaime was a mere five-years-old. She’d hated her mother's memory, because even as a young child, she knew how hurt and devastated her father had been for years after her mother deserted them.

  Yet, he had been the most loving father Jaime could have asked for. Though he‘d made a meager salary as a history teacher at the very high school she attended, he’d tried very hard to spoil his only daughter. He’d wanted the very best for her and had done everything within his power to make sure she would have both a good education and a bright future. He’d also worked a second job during the off summer months that required him to travel. It was during one of those jobs last August that a drunk driver had robbed him of his life.

  Now, approximately five weeks later, after an agonizing mourning period, Jaime was going back to school. She had missed the first three weeks of her senior classes, so it would be hard for her to get back into the swing of things, but she was a very determined young lady.

  Before going downstairs for breakfast, she picked up the cherished framed photo. Beside it was something else she truly treasured more than anything in the world, a special carved wooden box with a picture of a wolf on it. Her father had brought it back for her during one of his business trips.

  She slowly opened it and peered inside to find several postcards he’d sent to her from each of the places he’d traveled to. The postcards were the most meaningful gifts of all the ones he’d given her in the past because he had told her how much he loved her on each one. After a moment's thought, Jaime placed both the wooden box and the framed picture into her backpack, zipped it up, and pr
oceeded to head downstairs.

  ***

  “Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to school today, Sweetheart?” Uncle George offered while sitting at the breakfast table as Jaime finished up her meal.

  Beside her sat her cousin, Trevor, whom was a year behind her at the high school. Across from them was her younger cousin, Timothy, a tow-headed twelve-year-old.

  “No, that's okay, Uncle George.” Jaime finished off her glass of orange juice and smiled. “I don't want to forget how to drive.”

  “You've had your license how long now?” he returned, smiling proudly.

  “Since my sixteenth birthday.” She giggled. “How could you forget that? It’s been about a year and a half now!”

  “Ah, yes,” George laughed before a serious expression fell upon his face.

  He looked very much like his younger brother, James, but his features were more severe and he had a stodgier personality. Whereas Jaime's dad had been fun-loving and a little wild, George was more stern and staid in his demeanor.

  Jaime loved her uncle, but secretly hoped it wouldn't be hard to live under his roof because of the differences he possessed in child-rearing. Yet, she looked at the situation in the most positive light. She would only be living with them until she went off to college, so she supposed a few months wouldn't be all that horrible. At the very least, they’d been there for her when her father passed on. Thank God she had someone to turn to!