Burn The Old Life Novel by Lauren _ Novel




Burn The Old Life Chapter 01

When Kimberly Kilbridge was finally released after her wrongful imprisonment, she was no longer the person she once was.
She quit her job at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and started traveling across the windswept Mojave Desert with a volunteer team.
She gave up trying to prove her innocence to her husband, Beckett Norcutt, and confronting him about why her 99 letters of appeal had vanished without a trace.
She stopped grieving over the fact that, while she was behind bars, her son, Benson Norcutt, had told everyone he had a new mother.
During a pursuit to save a wolf cub from poachers, she tumbled down a steep slope and suffered a bone-deep laceration to her left leg.
The Mojave Desert was a desolate wilderness, but fortunately, passing herdsmen found her and rushed her to a nearby Red Cross tent.
One of her former subordinates saw her and exclaimed in surprise, "Kim, why... Mr. Norcutt sent you here, didn't he? I'll go get the doctor right away!"
Kimberly reached out to stop him, but he had already dashed out of the tent.
A bitter, snow-laden wind howled through the gap he left in his wake.
She blinked slowly and let out a quiet sigh.
He must have mistaken her for someone else.
Beckett was always swamped with work; only one person could get him to drop everything and venture out here into the middle of nowhere despite the biting storm.
Unfortunately, it wasn't her.
A moment later, the tent flap was pulled back, and Beckett's handsome face appeared.
Snow still clung to his shoulders. The moment he saw Kimberly, his brow furrowed sharply.
"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"
"It's just a scrape," she replied flatly. "Nothing serious."
Her icy demeanor unleashed the anger that Beckett had been holding back for months.
She had never been like this before.
In the field, she was always the formidable leader, driving off poachers and rescuing wolf cubs with effortless ease.
But once around him, she would soften, throwing herself into his arms in tears whenever she felt upset.
Yet, now, even as beads of sweat dotted her forehead from the intense pain, she didn't make a sound.
A tense hush hung over the tent, broken only by the occasional crackling of the wood fire.
Just then, the doctor came in.
Leaning over to examine Kimberly's leg, he let out a sharp gasp.
"Good thing Mrs. Norcutt showed up when she did. If that wound had turned septic, it might have been fatal."
He then leaned in to begin applying the medicine.
"Dr. Rigdon, Mrs. Norcutt is still waiting next door. Oh, who is this?"
A volunteer walked in, but upon catching sight of Kimberly, she froze and looked hesitant.
The doctor was also stunned. He turned to Beckett, confused. "Mr. Norcutt, I don't understand. This medicine is for..."
Beckett didn't say a word. He simply kept his gaze fixed on Kimberly.
Yet, there was none of the jealous anger he had been expecting from her.
Kimberly didn't even look up. "I'm not Mrs. Norcutt. You've brought the medicine to the wrong person."
Without waiting for help, she tore off a strip of cloth and began wrapping the wound herself.
"What does that supposed to mean?" Beckett suddenly grabbed her slender wrist, his jaw tightening and his eyes darkening. "Adelaide was injured while she was patrolling the grassland with me, so of course, I'm responsible for her.
"You don't have to be so jealous!"
A wave of unexplained dread seized him, leaving his heart constricted.
It was a flimsy excuse, but she couldn't have cared less.
"I'm not jealous," she said softly, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "I agree with you. It's only right that you look after your subordinates."
Beckett was stunned.
Back then, whenever he showed appreciation for Adelaide Turrall, made an exception for her, stayed late with her for work, or went on a business trip with her, Kimberly would become constantly anxious, calling him every night to check in. Eventually, his patience wore thin, and he muted Kimberly.
Now, she had become the wife he had always hoped for—no more questions, no more jealousy.
Yet, he wasn't relieved; all he felt was a deep, gnawing frustration.
And that strange feeling only stirred a deeper unease within him.
For the first time, he desperately wished she would go back to the way she used to be.
"Does it hurt?"
He brushed his fingertips gently against her wound. The touch sent a cold shiver through her, making her moan.
How could it not hurt?
One year ago, a once-in-a-century blizzard descended upon the grasslands.
While they were out on patrol, Benson suddenly came down with a high fever. Braving a blizzard so fierce it could knock a person off their feet, Kimberly stumbled through knee-deep snowdrifts all night, eventually reaching the herdsmen to beg for fever-reducing medicine.
At that time, her knees were mangled and bleeding, her legs shredded by ice shards and whipped by the claws of wild wolves.
Compared to that, this injury was nothing.
"Ouch, it hurts!"
Adelaide's cry of pain drifted over from the adjacent tent.
Beckett's fists tightened, his gaze drifting unconsciously toward the curtain.
"I'm fine. Go check on her," Kimberly said.
Weak from the blood loss, she slowly closed her eyes, silently urging him to hurry.
"Kim, I'll be right back." Beckett leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead before striding quickly toward the next tent.
Two days and two nights passed, and he never showed up again.
The heavy snow continued. Kimberly's wound began to fester. The doctor took pity on her and snuck in some medicine, which barely managed to keep the infection from worsening.
On the third day, the snow finally cleared.
She packed her few belongings, found a fallen branch to use as a makeshift crutch, and limped outside.
A dilapidated minivan was waiting a short distance away.
In stark contrast, a luxurious Bentley sat parked right next to it.
Her eyes widened at the sight—it was Beckett's car.
The car door opened, just as the flap of the neighboring tent was pulled back.
Beckett emerged, carefully supporting Adelaide. He didn't so much as glance Kimberly's way.
Kimberly looked down, used to Adelaide's habit of pretending to be weak. It was just a tiny scratch, yet it was still not healed.
A sardonic smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned to leave.
"Kim!"
Adelaide spotted her immediately and hurried over, her eyes red with tears and her expression one of utter innocence. "You still blame me, don't you? Back then, I wanted to take the fall for you. But—"
"Mommy Addy, don't be scared! I'll protect you!"
Benson darted out of the car, stretching out his arms to shield her.
Glaring at Kimberly with intense hostility, he shouted, "Bad woman! Don't you dare hurt my mommy!"
Beckett stepped in front of them, looking at Kimberly warily.
"Kim, I was the one who convicted you," he said. "If you're going to blame anyone, blame me."

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