Redesigning Fate (Revive #1) - A. M. Wilson


Time is running out. She wasn’t supposed to get away. Why did she fucking get away? I was too cocky. Blinded. Marlena gained the upper hand, along with beating the hell out of my face. Now, I have two options. Either go after her, or get the hell out of dodge.

My foot presses deeper on the gas pedal; the car headed the only direction I know is safe: North.


If I can cross the border before she finds her way out of those woods, I’m free. If I’m lucky, she’ll never find her way out. She’ll die as I intended. Like she deserves. Those woods have a ten-mile radius of tree coverage. One way in and one way out. There’s a lot of area to cover before she’d hit the convenience store twenty-five miles down the highway. She’d pass out from exhaustion and starvation and that would be that.

There’s just one thing left to do before I go.

Up ahead, the lights of an all-night gas station illuminate the road, and I yank the wheel to the left, drive the car off the highway and onto the concrete drive. Grabbing the thick manila envelope beside me, I scrawl the now familiar address onto the front. No return address necessary. The large blue mail bin waits beside my idling car, and I roll down my window. With one last look at the envelope, one final moment of hesitation, I drop the package inside. Gripping the wheel tightly, I speed away before I hear the telltale thunk it landed safely.

All the answers are inside that envelope. I hope the intended person reads it and understands. I wasn’t always this way. Things weren’t always headed down this path. But a series of wrong choices brought us here. Maybe a series of right ones can bring us back.

I may have intended for her to die tonight, but if by some miracle she doesn’t, I want everything spelled out for her. When I see her again, there won’t be any more questions. She won’t need answers. She also won’t be able to deny that we aren’t so different after all.

We belong together. One way or another, we will be together. It’s the way fate intended for us to be.


“You’re not fucking invited. Now leave,” he bellowed inches from my face, glaring at me with that hard stare he had perfected over his short life. Grown men couldn’t make a face as frightening as he could.

“You can’t be serious. How can you have a party here and not invite your own girlfriend? What are you really planning on doing?”

He groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. Irritation was radiating off him in waves.

“It’s just me and the guys, a few bottles of liquor, and some video games. That’s it. You can sit at home, and I’ll call you in the morning.” His arms crossed expectantly, waiting for me to relent as I usually did.

Not this time.

I’d started this argument, and I would see it through. I was finished being the weak pushover I’d been for so long. Steel sheathed my spine, and I lifted my chin with my newfound inner strength. “No. I’m sick of this shit. I want to come too. Maybe I want to drink and play video games.”

“Fuck that! You want to be here to spy on me,” he screamed, droplets of spit spraying from his mouth. “I want time with my friends, and you’ll stay at home until I want to hang out with you.”

“I’m sick of playing your games. You want to have a ‘guy’s night out,’ fine! Have your fucking guy’s night out. Carly and I will go to the bar.” I shouldn’t have told him my impromptu plans. I should have just done what I wanted to do, but the anger rushing my veins made me antagonize him before I thought through my actions.

“I hate that bitch. You’re not going anywhere with her. Why would you want to go to the bar? So you can pick up a dude?” He stepped closer, so close we were nose to nose. I knew I was pushing him, but I was sick of backing down, sick of giving in all the time. I wanted control back in my life. “You’ll leave and sit at home like a good little girl.”

“I am not leaving! If I can’t hang out with Carly, then I’m hanging out here!”

“The hell you are!” He lunged forward, grabbed a handful of my hair, and hauled me out of the bedroom