{"id":3473,"date":"2025-11-19T09:00:35","date_gmt":"2025-11-19T14:00:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/?p=3473"},"modified":"2025-11-18T17:01:46","modified_gmt":"2025-11-18T22:01:46","slug":"fall-like-the-leaves-part-two-dangerous-thrills","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/2025\/11\/19\/fall-like-the-leaves-part-two-dangerous-thrills\/","title":{"rendered":"Fall Like the Leaves, Part Two: Dangerous Thrills"},"content":{"rendered":"
This entry is part 2 of 4 in the series Fall Like the Leaves<\/a><\/div>\n
By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer<\/h5>\n\n\n\n
\"A
It\u2019s dangerous\u2026but I can\u2019t stop following him. | Michael Pointner (Pexels)\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t be here,\u201d the man from the coffee shop says, his deep voice rumbly like it was when he ordered drinks. Goodness,<\/em> I find myself thinking despite the ironic situation. The man <\/em>can say more than two words.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He wears a frown, dark eyes narrowed, and examines me up and down. That\u2019s when I look down and realize what a mess I am. My light blue uniform is stained dark red with blood and I notice holes in my sleeves from where the other man clawed me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I look back up at him. He\u2019s one to talk\u2026or, rather, look,<\/em> I think. His left eye is swollen and purple, and blood leaked from his nose and lips. There are blood and sweat stains on his black suit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is no sign of the light in his eyes from days earlier as he glares down at me. My heart sinks at the thought of him being angry with me, of regretting ever smiling at me all those times. What\u2019s even worse, I think I detect a hint of disappointment. I feel like I\u2019ve let him down in some way. That I\u2019ve lost all chances of getting to know him and figuring out why in the world he interests me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s when I notice something like worry flicker in his eyes. \u201cYou could have gotten killed,\u201d he said. \u201cThat man is dangerous.\u201d He gestures to the dead body, reading the look on my face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m about to speak when shouting erupts from further down the alleyway. Both of our heads spin in that direction as a group of uniformed men are turning the corner and running towards us with angry expressions and guns in hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A cry rips from my throat as they raise their guns at us, but suddenly I\u2019m swept off my feet and feel a hard chest pressed against my cheek and large arms wrapped around my back and legs. My breath is knocked out of my lungs at the impact, but I\u2019m more breathless from the fact that the man from the coffee shop is carrying<\/em> me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I throw my arms around his neck, terrified I\u2019m going to fall. Thankfully, his hold on me is so firm I feel like I can let go and be safe. I don\u2019t want my arms bouncing around, though, so I keep them wrapped around his neck as he sprints through what I realize is the town\u2019s park.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Red and orange leaves paint the trees above us, and the fallen leaves scuttle underneath the man as he tears across the clearing. People glance our way, some walking dogs that bark at us from the sudden movements. That\u2019s when I notice the man change direction to take a path toward a more secluded area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, I risk a glance at him. He\u2019s looking straight ahead. His eyes are narrowed again, lips turned down, lines prominent on his forehead \u2013 from anger or focus, I cannot decipher. My palms feel slippery on his neck and my heart starts to pound violently as the canopy of trees casts dark shadows on us. Without the presence of the sun, the place he\u2019s taking me feels much darker and colder. The only sounds are of leaves rustling and the man\u2019s steady breaths as he runs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, a rumble comes from the man\u2019s chest and his face shifts to what I recognize as pain. He bares his teeth, his grip on me tightening to the point that it makes me yelp. He slows down at that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d he mumbles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you hurt?\u201d I find myself asking, recalling the condition I found him in with the other man in the alleyway. He also got slammed against the wall, so maybe he\u2019s harboring a wound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He grunts in response, coming to a slow walk and eventually a stop. Looking around us and finding no threat, he sets me down. His hand shoots to his side and becomes blood red when he removes it to look at. A hiss escapes him, the wrinkles on his forehead more prominent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gasp. \u201cWere you shot? We need to get help!\u201d I scramble to see if anyone is nearby. When I see we are alone, I shove my hands into my pockets to search for my phone. My heart drops when I don\u2019t feel it in my uniform.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo!\u201d The man yells, grabbing me by the arms and holding them in place. \u201cYou won\u2019t be telling anyone,<\/em> understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I want to insist we call for help, but the deep concern etched on his face makes me purse my lips and nod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He must be involved in something bad\u2014maybe even illegal<\/em>\u2014for him to decline help when he\u2019s literally bleeding. For some reason, I can\u2019t help being curious. I wanted to figure this man out since the first day I saw him walking into the coffee shop, and now I might get that chance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Images of the dead body in the alleyway flash across my mind. This time, instead of my heart plummeting and my throat constricting, I feel a rush. A new type of energy electrifies my body and makes me stand up straight. I never felt something so alive. So freeing.<\/em> I almost want to hit myself for feeling this excitement when someone just died and left another man bleeding out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The adrenaline rush sends me running when the uniformed men spot us again, and the man from the coffee shop starts and rushes to my side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, I feel like I\u2019m flying across the sky. Everything is a blur. My surroundings disappear. Wind catches my hair and whips it around behind me. My body shivers from the cold, but it feels exhilarating. I don’t remember I\u2019m running until my body is yanked to the side and I find myself being pushed through a large opening in a dark tunnel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The only light I can see comes from the opening we just entered through, until the man shuts a large metal door behind me and drowns us in darkness. The sound of the door closing echoes and fades into the unknown distance until it\u2019s silent aside from our shallow breathing, my racing heart, and the faint trickling of water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m too busy blinking to get my eyes to adjust when a warm hand grabs my arm. I jump and spin around to see the man pointing a flashlight at me. His face is covered by a shadow cast by the flashlight, but I can see that his lips are turned down into a frown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRelax,\u201d he says. He points the flashlight down the tunnel and starts walking ahead. I shiver from the underground chill, rubbing my arms that I realize are infested with goosebumps. I follow behind, observing the silhouette of the broad man before me. Surprisingly, he isn\u2019t tense, but I notice a sag in his shoulders. I assume it\u2019s from the wound and exhaustion from the fight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t protest when he leads me through a smaller doorway after pressing a code onto a keypad nearby. There should be hundreds of alarm bells ringing in my head, but I can\u2019t bring myself to turn back. After that exhilarating chase, I felt something rush through my veins like lightning and, whatever it was, it kept me from going back to the coffee shop. I don\u2019t even want to go back now. Not when my life was finally starting to get interesting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My life has felt like a checkbox \u2014 I complete the same tasks every day: wake up, go to work, come back home. I end the day by watching one of the only three shows I ever watch while slurping on Ramen as my elderly corgi sleeps in my lap. It doesn\u2019t seem like a bad life, but it is boring. I got so used to it that it\u2019s the only way of life I know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My obsession with routines started shortly after my parents died five years ago. It happened so suddenly, and I desperately needed some form of stability in my life; I had nowhere to go. College went out the window because there was hardly any money left behind, so I got myself a job and focused only on that so I wouldn\u2019t go homeless. I had no friends because they all moved away for college, and I never got into a relationship because it felt pointless with how boring and hopeless I was. Every wish, every dream, every smile, every hope I had: out the door as soon as my parents died. It\u2019s like everything died with them. Including me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All that changed the day this man walked through the doors of the coffee shop. I don\u2019t know how to explain it, but he made me feel a way I never felt before. Whatever it is, it makes me feel like I can run around the globe and never tire. Now I feel awake. Alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s what keeps me moving forward through the tunnel and into a dimly lit room. It\u2019s an empty box, with cracked stone walls on all sides and a weak light hanging above. Straight ahead were elevator doors that were steadily sliding apart. I must have paused for too long because I feel the man\u2019s hand on my lower back, gently ushering me forward and into the opening elevator. His touch makes me shiver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He presses the only button in the elevator and we stand in silence as  we start to descend. To where, I have no idea; I don\u2019t know if the man will even respond if I ask. Mr. Coffee Shop \u2014 the new name I\u2019ve bestowed upon him \u2014 seems incapable of conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After what felt like a millennium, the elevator screeches to a stop and opens. I follow Mr. Coffee Shop out into what looks to be a huge, amphitheater-shaped office. Computers line each row, going down to a large black pillar in the middle with screens wrapped around it. The office is filled with men and women wearing white or blue dress shirts with black pants. Some are wandering around carrying paperwork, while others are seated in front of the computers. My body freezes as every eye in the room turns in our direction. Specifically, my<\/em> direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And this is how I die. Not from a gun, but from these people\u2019s deadly stares.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI appreciate the welcome back,\u201d Mr. Coffee Shop mutters after a long moment of awkward silence. It takes me a second to register the fact that he\u2019s taken my hand and is leading me into a hallway. Everyone\u2019s eyes follow us. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My body feels like I\u2019ve entered a furnace, but not because of the stares. The roughness of this man\u2019s skin feels unsettlingly pleasant against my palm. I look down to see his huge hand swallowing mine up; it\u2019s such a step up from when he brushed my hand, giving me the broom, but he did also carry me through a park today. Because we were being chased by potential killers, idiot,<\/em> I remind myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He takes me into an examination room, where a young nurse takes a look at me. She\u2019s very sweet and gentle as she checks for injuries, finding nothing but scratches on my arm and a little bruise on my back before sending me on my way with an ice pack and a change of clothes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Coffee Shop is nowhere in sight \u2014 probably tending to his own wounds \u2014 so I find a bathroom to change in. I slip on a long-sleeved shirt along with leggings while balancing the ice pack on my back. I dispose of my ripped and stained barista uniform after searching the pockets for my phone again to no avail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sigh deeply. I\u2019m not sure why Mr. Coffee Shop even brought me here. It doesn\u2019t seem like he\u2019s kidnapping me \u2014 I hope \u2014 but maybe he\u2019s punishing me for getting involved? Maybe now I\u2019m in danger because this guy is involved in something illegal. Yet your stupid butt couldn\u2019t stay away,<\/em> I want to yell at myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On top of that, I can\u2019t find my phone. I have no clue how I\u2019m supposed to get help if I am<\/em> being kidnapped. Or, if I\u2019m not, to at least tell my coworkers I mysteriously disappeared because I\u2019m stuck in a freaking underground lair and won\u2019t be back until who knows when.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I step out of the bathroom and collide with a hard chest. I crane my neck to see that this very broad and lovely \u2014 I didn\u2019t say that \u2014 chest is connected to the very man who brought me here. He\u2019s staring down at me with those dark orbs, eyes narrowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before I can ask how long he was standing there for, he starts walking and says, \u201cFollow me.\u201d So, like the little lost puppy I am, I follow without question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I notice the man is all cleaned up, no signs of dirt or blood on him. Even his cuts are cleaned up, and he has abandoned his dark suit for a gray t-shirt and jeans. I almost want to smile at the fact that he\u2019s finally wearing something with color.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He takes me into yet another room, this one housing a singular table in the middle with two chairs pushed in on both sides, a counter in the corner with wooden cabinets, and a fridge. These rooms have no windows since we\u2019re underground, so the only light comes from a small flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Coffee Shop gestures for me to take a seat \u2014 I do \u2014 then hands me a cold water bottle. I don\u2019t realize how thirsty I am until I\u2019ve downed more than half of it. I set the bottle down to see the man now seated across from me, staring with a deadpanned face. I\u2019m surprised when he finally speaks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you have any major injuries?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My stomach flutters at his concern. Stop it.<\/em> \u201cNo. Only some scratches and a bruise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood. I apologize for bringing you down here. I had to make sure you weren\u2019t terribly harmed, and I can\u2019t have you seen up there at the moment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat? Am I a criminal now after I tried defending you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cQuite the opposite, actually,\u201d Mr. Coffee Shop says with a sigh, which does nothing to settle my pounding heart. \u201cI told you that you shouldn\u2019t have gotten involved. Now that those men saw your face, you\u2019re in danger.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He must sense the question on my face because he continues, \u201cI\u2019m going to be honest and quick with you, Miss Faith.\u201d How did he know my name? Oh, the name tag from my uniform, duh.<\/em> \u201cI\u2019m a part of an agency that protects small towns like these from threats. You happened to stumble across a man who is involved in a criminal organization. He was about to make an illegal weapon deal with another organization, which is why you saw us in the condition we were in. I had to kill him because he kept resisting, and he was about to kill you. The men who chased us were his\u2026 buddies, let’s just say. They saw me with you, so they\u2019re probably thinking you are a part of our agency. I had to bring you down here to keep you safe.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had to give my brain a second to compute. \u201cUhm, okay. That makes sense, but what kind of danger am I in? When can I leave?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are now a target for them. They could stalk you and kidnap you to get information. They could even kill you.\u201d Wow, he wasn\u2019t kidding when he said he would be honest. Even now, I don\u2019t find myself feeling scared. Obviously, I would appreciate it if these guys let me live, but some part of me feels thrilled to know I\u2019ve got action in my life now. This boring town isn\u2019t as boring as I thought it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoes that mean I can\u2019t leave?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll be allowed to leave,\u201d he assures me, his calm but serious tone unchanging. \u201cYou\u2019re going to have someone from our team nearby at all times until we get this situation taken care of, though. When you work, when you\u2019re at home, etcetera. Understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, I understand I\u2019m going to be stalked regardless of my decision,\u201d I reply sarcastically. \u201cHow can I trust you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re just going to have to,\u201d the man shrugs. \u201cYou can at least trust us not to hurt you. I think we would\u2019ve by now if we wanted to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFair,\u201d I say. The question that has been nagging me these last few weeks abruptly comes to mind. \u201cI have to ask you something, Mr\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAsher.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Coffee Shop has a name? A lovely one, too. \u201cAsher. Why did you keep coming into my work? You never said a word to me, but you always showed up and smiled at me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think I caught him off guard. Those narrowed eyes are suddenly wide. His lips part slightly, and he tilts his head away from me, staring at the ground. I swear, I catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. Is he\u2026embarrassed?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hear a deep sigh from him before he responds. \u201cI wasn\u2019t supposed to do that, so I apologize for that as well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUhm, okay. Can you explain to me why you did it?\u201d When he doesn\u2019t respond, I say, \u201cYou said you were going to be honest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t relevant to the conversation,\u201d he snaps, his eyes back on me and face serious again. I want to object and tell him it is<\/em> very much <\/em>relevant because we\u2019re discussing the danger I\u2019m in, which could\u2019ve been caused by him coming in every day. He continues, calmer, \u201cI\u2019ll let you go now. We\u2019ve already contacted your work to say you were sent to the hospital because you got very sick. You ruined your uniform and will need a new one. You\u2019re free to go home for the rest of the day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow did you contact\u2026?\u201d I start, but when Asher raises a brow at me, I abandon the question. \u201cNevermind.\u201d He\u2019s an agent, I got that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stand up when he does. I head over to the door, but pause when he speaks behind me. \u201cMake sure not to disclose this information to anyone. Oh, and one more thing, Miss Faith,\u201d I turn around to look at him, standing there with his hands in his jeans pockets. His face is calm, collected. \u201cRemember how I mentioned we\u2019re going to have someone near you at all times to keep you safe?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s my turn to raise my brow at him. \u201cUhm, yes?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His face remains collected as he says, \u201cI hope you\u2019re ready to see your favorite daily customer back at the coffee shop.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This entry is part 2 of 4 in the series Fall Like the Leaves<\/a><\/div>

By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t be here,\u201d the man from the coffee shop says, his deep voice rumbly like it was when he ordered drinks. Goodness, I find…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3429,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_EventAllDay":false,"_EventTimezone":"","_EventStartDate":"","_EventEndDate":"","_EventStartDateUTC":"","_EventEndDateUTC":"","_EventShowMap":false,"_EventShowMapLink":false,"_EventURL":"","_EventCost":"","_EventCostDescription":"","_EventCurrencySymbol":"","_EventCurrencyCode":"","_EventCurrencyPosition":"","_EventDateTimeSeparator":"","_EventTimeRangeSeparator":"","_EventOrganizerID":[],"_EventVenueID":[],"_OrganizerEmail":"","_OrganizerPhone":"","_OrganizerWebsite":"","_VenueAddress":"","_VenueCity":"","_VenueCountry":"","_VenueProvince":"","_VenueState":"","_VenueZip":"","_VenuePhone":"","_VenueURL":"","_VenueStateProvince":"","_VenueLat":"","_VenueLng":"","_VenueShowMap":false,"_VenueShowMapLink":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"series":[49],"class_list":["post-3473","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-creative","series-fall-leaves"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3473","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3473"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3473\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3493,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3473\/revisions\/3493"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3429"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3473"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3473"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3473"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?post=3473"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}