Break Free Read online

  It wasn’t much warmer inside the barn than outside, but at least if I stayed in here I wouldn’t be exposed. I unhooked the straps of my backpack and dropped it onto the floor. After pulling the barn door closed, I sank to the ground. Unzipping my backpack, I pulled all the clothes I owned out of it. Taking the t-shirt, I balled it up to make a pillow. I put my other pair of pants under my butt to keep the cold from seeping through from the frozen floor. Then I pulled my socks onto my hands, using them as mittens. Feeling a little warmer, I rested my head on my shirt and closed my eyes. I would worry about the rest in the morning. For now I would sleep and hope that the nightmares stayed away.

  Barking sounded in the distance, causing me to stir. My eyelids fluttered, but I squeezed them closed. My body was sore from yesterday’s beating, my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, and my head hammered. The barking neared me, and I stiffened. When had someone gotten a dog? I didn’t think they were allowed in our building. The scent of wood and hay wafted under my nose, and I sprung my eyes open, taking in my surroundings. Memories from last night crashed over me like a strong wave, and I sighed.

  A part of me was relieved to not be in the apartment with Heath, while the other part was terrified. What the hell was I going to do now? I couldn’t live in a deserted barn forever. One of the barn doors pushed open slightly. I inhaled sharply as a dog stuck his head in. Holding my breath, I stayed as still as a statue. Maybe if I didn’t move he’d leave.

  Wishful thinking. Wagging his tail, he stealthily crawled forward, sniffing the ground. As he neared me I sat up. He let out a loud bark, and I inched toward the wall, tucking my knees up to my chest.

  “Edgar!” A man’s voice startled me.

  I jumped backward, slamming my head against the side of the barn. The dog barked louder, and I shushed him desperately.

  Waving my hands frantically I said, “No, go!” The last thing I needed was to be spotted by this dog’s owner. Much to my dismay the dog stayed put, wagging his tail and watching me with large brown eyes. He barked again, baring his sharp teeth.

  “Edgar? There you are.” A man stepped inside the barn, his eyes on the dog. He hadn’t noticed me yet, and I froze, praying he wouldn’t. Kneeling down, he petted the dog’s long, brown fur. I’d never had a dog and didn’t know anything about them, so I wasn’t sure what kind it was. But as it licked the man’s face I found myself wishing I had known that kind of love and loyalty. The man stood, his knees cracking. His head lifted, his gaze resting on me.

  When his eyes collided with mine, all the air left me. It was like my body was a helium balloon and he was the pin. One puncture and it was all over. His gaze was like that. Like a needle jabbing me. It wasn’t the fact that his eyes were a silver color I’d never seen before. It was the intensity behind them. It was the fact that I could see into his very soul. I was being sucked in like Alice in the rabbit hole, but I couldn’t fight it. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  “Hi.” His voice was rich and low with a slight rasp to it. A woodsy smell like pine needles and leather rose from him as he reached up, running his fingers through his ear-length, wavy blond hair. He wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of jeans. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He had the build of someone who did manual labor, yet the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself told me otherwise.

  “Hi,” I responded softly. Dropping my gaze, I allowed my hair to fall like a curtain over my scars. I knew he’d already seen them, but he didn’t react at all. It was weird. Most people at least let their gaze linger on that side of my face a little longer than on the other. Even the woman on the bus had done that. But he had stared at me head-on, as if both sides were identical.

  “What are you doing here?” His question didn’t sound accusatory, more curious.

  “I-I-I’m sorry. Is this your barn?” I asked.

  When he nodded, I hoisted myself up to a standing position. “I thought it was abandoned. I just needed a place to stay for the night.” I started to reach for my backpack when I noticed my hands were still encased in my socks. How humiliating. Hurriedly, I peeled them off.

  His gaze dropped to my hands, then to the floor where my clothes were strewn about. He furrowed his brows, lines forming in the creases. “No, that’s fine.”

  With trembling hands, I gathered up all my other belongings and shoved them in my backpack. I was shaking so badly that it took several tries. The withdrawals were getting worse. Feeling itchy, I scratched the top of my arm through my shirt while licking my dry lips. Once I put my backpack on, the man held out a hand to me.

  “I’m Kyler.”

  Surprised, I stared at the hand he offered. Tentatively I took his hand in mine. I contemplated giving him a fake name, but then thought better of it. What’s it going to matter anyway? “Jade.”

  “Jade, that’s a nice name.”

  “Thanks.” I wondered how old Kyler was. He looked to be around my age, somewhere in his early twenties, but he talked like someone much older, more refined.

  “Where will you go now?” he asked.

  Bothered by his question, I shook my head and licked my lips once again. Why the hell were they so dry? My whole body was trembling by now, and I was sure Kyler noticed. It was so obvious I was a junkie. He was probably going to head back to his house and call the authorities the minute I left.

  I had no intention of telling him my plans, so I slipped into what I was comfortable with. Sarcasm, and a whole lot of “I don’t give a shit” attitude. Shrugging, I lifted my chin. “Maybe I’ll join the circus. Do you have one in town? Maybe they need more freaks in their freak show. Perhaps a girl with only one half of a face? I bet the kids will love that. They’d come from miles around to see me, I’m sure of it.” When I made self-depreciating jokes around Heath or his friends they would laugh, join in and add their own jokes. But Kyler didn’t even crack a smile. Instead he touched his finger to his chin, studying me with rapt attention.

  “There’s no circus in town,” he answered deadpan. “Besides, I don’t think they’d want you anyway.”

  His words shocked me. “W-what? Why not?” I sputtered, feeling attacked.

  “Well, for one, you’re not a freak. And for two, you do not have a half a face. You have an entire face. I’m looking right at it.”

  Biting my lip, I looked at my feet. “Are you blind?”

  “Are you?” he countered.

  I bit my lip, unsure of what to do. This man made my head spin.

  “Unless you have some other talent you can offer.” He spread out his hands, while his dog continued to pant by his side. “Can you walk a tightrope, do acrobatics, ride on an elephant?”

  “You’re mocking me now.” I crossed my arms over my chest sourly. Edgar barked again.

  Kyler chuckled, a low grumbly sound that I felt deep in my bones. It wasn’t the kind of laugh Heath or any of my other boyfriends had. This felt good, like he was laughing with me, not at me. I’d never understood that phrase before. “I thought that’s what we were doing. Joking around. Surely you weren’t serious about the circus.” He raised an eyebrow. “But if you were, follow me.”

  My insides twisted. “Why? You really do have a circus in town?”

  “No, but my house is right over this hill and we can use my computer to research where the nearest one is.” With an open palm, he pressed open the barn door and stepped outside. Bright sunlight spilled in, painting a stripe of yellow on the ground.

  I stayed rooted in place for a minute, wondering if I should trust this stranger. Was it a good idea to follow him to his house? Wasn’t this how girls got abducted…or worse? The minute the thought left my head, I almost laughed out loud. What could be worse than what I’d already endured?

  The contents of my backpack shifted as I moved, reminding me of the knife inside. Knowing it was there gave me comfort. If he tried anything I could use it to defend myself.

  “You coming?” Kyler asked.

  I knew I hadn’t
always been the best judge of character, but for some reason I trusted Kyler. As I stepped out of the barn, into the bright morning sunshine, I hoped he wouldn’t let me down.

  THREE

  “I wasn’t serious about the circus,” I confessed, trailing behind him as he stalked toward his house, Edgar running near his heels.

  “Really?” He winked, and to my surprise I found my lips curling slightly at the edges.

  It was still cold outside, but the sun shone through the clouds giving the impression that it might warm up at some point. My feet trampled over green grass and weeds. Last night I hadn’t noticed his house beyond the barn because it was hidden by a miniature hill. The house was small with brick siding and shuttered windows. Potted plants lined the front porch. Kyler opened the front door, and Edgar bounded inside.

  “Come on in.” Kyler turned to me with a sincere smile.

  I halted in my tracks. “Well, there’s no reason now. I mean, I don’t need to research the circus on your computer.”

  “True.” Kyler nodded. “But I’ve got a pot of coffee brewing and some eggs I can cook up if you’re interested.”

  All my resolve slipped away at the mention of coffee and food. I hadn’t even realized how starving I was until he said the word ‘eggs’. And coffee would definitely help with my withdrawal symptoms. “Count me in.”

  The house was warm and cozy. The heater hummed in the background as I made my way inside. I could smell the coffee from the small kitchen off to the right of the front door. The family room had a red plush couch and a brown recliner in front of a small TV. In the corner was a large bookshelf filled with books, and next to it was a desk with a computer. Stacks of loose paper sat on top of the desk next to a pair of reading glasses. There weren’t any ashtrays or beer cans littering the floor. Light filtered in through the large picture windows, casting a cheery glow on the walls. My chest expanded.

  “Edgar!” Kyler snapped at his dog when he jumped up on the couch. “Down.”

  Edgar obeyed immediately, sliding off the couch and hopping onto the ground.

  “Edgar seems like an odd name for a dog,” I pondered aloud. “What made you choose it?”

  “He’s named after Edgar Allen Poe.”

  “The poet?”

  “So, you know of him?” Kyler cocked an eyebrow.

  “Of course.”

  Kyler stepped around me, his arm brushing mine. “Are you a reader, Jade?”

  I liked the way he said my name. It rolled off his tongue like something sweet. I’d never heard it that way before, and it made me wonder if I’d misjudged it. Others had always said my name in a sour way, and I’d grown to hate it over the years. I nodded, thinking of the hours I’d spent at the library poring over novel after novel. Ever since I was a child, I used stories as a way of escaping the harsh realities of my real life.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll go grab us some coffee.” Kyler swept his arms out toward the couch before exiting the room. Edgar followed him like he was his little shadow. It made me feel lonely.

  After setting my backpack down, I glanced around the room wondering if there was a woman in Kyler’s life. It seemed odd that a man like him would be single. However, judging by the nature paintings on the walls and the deer head mounted over the fireplace, I assumed that no woman lived here.

  “Cream or sugar?” Kyler called from the kitchen.

  “Neither,” I responded, shaking my head. It felt weird to have someone waiting on me. That never happened.

  “Here you go.”

  His woodsy scent spun around me as he gently placed the ceramic cup into my hand. I closed my fingers around it, warmth seeping into my palm. Then I took a sip, enjoying the aromatic flavors as they slid down my tongue. “So, is it just you and Edgar living here?” I couldn’t help it. I had to know, even though it didn’t matter. It’s not like anything was going to happen between us. He was being hospitable now, but I knew guys like him. Once he could check his one good deed of the day off his list, he’d send me on my way. So, why not savor this moment while I had it?

  “Yeah.” Darkness flared in his light eyes, making me wonder if there had been someone else at one point.

  Knowing how it felt to have secrets, I dropped the subject, allowing him the privacy to hold on to his. Gripping the mug in my hand, I walked over to the bookshelf. With my free hand, I fingered the spines. He had books from all eras, from the classics to contemporaries. I recognized several of them. My hand stopped, hovering over one name in particular. Pulling out the book, I ran the pads of my fingers over the title The Yellow String. After staring at it a moment, I flashed it in Kyler’s direction.

  “You wrote this?”

  Lowering the cup from his lips, he nodded.

  My gaze flitted over to his desk. “So, you’re a writer?” That explained the Edgar Allen Poe fascination.

  “Yes, I am. That’s my debut novel. I just started working on my new one.”

  “That’s cool,” I said honestly. I’d never met a writer before. Then again, I didn’t usually hang out with people who made money legally. I glanced back at the book in my hands with fascination, my thumb resting on his name - Kyler James.

  “Keep it,” he said abruptly.

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t.” The book felt heavy in my hand suddenly. I took another sip of my coffee to settle my nerves. People didn’t usually gift me things. It was why I had only a few items in my backpack.

  “I insist. I’d love to hear what you think of it.” He smiled.

  I was practically guzzling the drink now. What was he saying? When would we see each other again after today? My stomach soured. I stopped drinking, but it was too late. The mug was drained. I never should’ve drank that much coffee on an empty stomach. When was the last time I ate? Three, four days ago? I’d been high for close to a week. Bile rose in my throat, and I choked it down. Breathing in deeply through my nose, I attempted to ward off the nausea. But like all the times I was coming down, it was a losing battle. Grasping tightly to the book and mug, I glanced up at Kyler.

  “Where’s your bathroom?” My voice was strained.

  “Right down the hall.” He pointed.

  Stumbling forward, I dropped my mug and book on the coffee table. Then I hurried down the narrow hallway. The first door on the right opened to a tiny bathroom. Clutching my belly, I slipped inside and closed the door before sinking down in front of the toilet. My knees hit the linoleum, and I bent over. Without any effort at all, I retched into the toilet bowl. Sweat covered my body like a thick blanket. After all the liquid was expelled from my gut, I sat up and ran a hand over my head. Leaning my head against the wall, I breathed deeply. The headache returned, pressing hard against the back of my eyes. Bringing my legs up to my chest, I rested my chin on my knees and wondered how I’d get through this. I never should’ve left Heath. Now I was in the middle of God knows where, and I had no idea how to get drugs around here. And I had to. I had to get more drugs in me. And I needed to do it now. Screw this whole getting clean thing. That was a crazy idea anyway. I was a junkie. It’s all I’d ever been, and it was all I’d ever be. Clean and sober living was for strong people. People like Kyler who had things to live for, a good career and a place to call home.

  Thrusting my arms upward, I grabbed on to the counter and pulled myself up. My gaze caught on my reflection, and I gasped. God, he had gotten me good this time. Maybe Kyler was right. Both sides of my face did match. The part of my face that hadn’t been burned might as well have been. It was swollen and bright purple. My eye was practically swollen shut. I knew it had hurt, but I didn’t think it was that bad. After so many years of being used as a punching bag, I suppose I’d become numb to the pain. When I looked down at my neck, I wondered what Kyler must think of me. The bruises on my neck resembled handprints. There was no mistaking what I was. A battered woman. I let out a stilted laugh. A battered woman and a junkie. What a great combination. I could be the poster child for what not to end up like. Don
’t do drugs, kids, or you could turn out like this.

  I turned on the faucet and cupped my hands beneath it. Catching the cold liquid in my palms, I drew it to my lips and took a drink. I swished it in my mouth, and then spit it out. After cleaning myself up, I went pee and then exited the bathroom.

  Kyler sat at the desk sipping coffee and staring at the computer screen. His head bobbed up when I entered the room. “You okay?” There was concern in his voice, and I didn’t know how to respond to that. Concern wasn’t something I was used to.

  “Yeah.” I wiped my hands on my jeans. “Thanks for everything, but I should get going.”

  “Don’t want the circus leaving without you, huh?”

  “Something like that.” Reaching out, I picked up the book. “Were you serious about the book?”

  “Of course. It’s yours.” He swiveled in his chair, his hair swaying with the motion.

  “Thanks.” Bending over, I picked up my backpack.

  “Eggs,” Kyler said loudly, snapping his fingers.

  “What?” Startled by him throwing out a random word, I whirled around. Was this how writers behaved? My backpack slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud.

  “I forgot to make you eggs.”

  “It’s okay.” I waved away his words with a flick of my wrist. When I did, I noticed the crescent shaped marks from where I dug my fingernails into them the night before.

  “No, it’s not. I promised you eggs.” He stood up, causing the papers on his desk to flutter like the wings of a bird.

  “I’m not that hungry, really.” I hugged myself.

  “You’re not going to make me go back on my word, are you?” Kyler leaned in close. So close I felt heady from his proximity.

  Heart hammering, I took a step back. “No, I guess not.” I didn’t know how to behave around Kyler. He was unlike anyone I’d ever met. While Kyler and Egar headed into the kitchen, I sank down onto the couch. I set the book down in my lap, opening to the dedication page. Most people probably skipped over the dedication page in books in order to get to the story, but not me. I’d always been fascinated with who the author chose to thank. It told me a lot about the writer, and that helped me to better understand the story. Sometimes when I read a heartfelt dedication, I felt this tug in my heart. This yearning that went so deep it almost killed me. If I was a writer my dedication page would be blank.