Break Free Page 8

  “I’m not telling you anything. You have to find out for yourself.” Kyler placed the glasses back on his nose and resumed reading.

  I settled back against the couch cushions and lowered my gaze to my book. The stranger seemed like such a gentlemen during he and Clara’s dinner. I was still skeptical of Robert as he sat at another table hidden behind a plant, watching them. Why was he so worried that this other guy would hurt Clara? How did he even know him? So far the stranger seemed less creepy than Robert. Who wants to be with a guy who stalks you, watching you from afar?

  My neck was kinked, all folded over like a napkin. I opened my eyes, and stretched out my neck and shoulders. When my eyes adjusted, I realized I was still on the couch. I must’ve fallen asleep out here. Rolling my head to the side, I gasped. Kyler was asleep beside me, his book open in his lap, his face pointed toward the ceiling. I stared at him a moment, watching his chest rise and fall and air escape through his lips. His hands were rested in his lap, his fingers spread out over the pages of his novel. His glasses were sitting askew on his nose, as if he’d fallen asleep midsentence.

  Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I narrowed my eyes to make out the time. Six in the morning. No wonder my neck hurt so badly. I felt the heaviness of my book in my lap, and looked down at where I’d left off. Kyler stirred beside me.

  His eyes popped open and he grinned at me lazily. “Wow, you can’t get enough of that book, huh?”

  I flushed. “Actually, it seems that your book put me to sleep. I just woke up.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I was going to wake you and see if you wanted to go to your bed, but you were out.”

  He’d seen me sleeping? Oh, god, I hoped I wasn’t drooling or anything. “What about you? You make a habit of sleeping on the couch?”

  Peeling his back off the couch, he said, “Nope. This is the first time.” He took off his glasses and stretched his arms above his head. “I didn’t want to leave you.” Stunned by his admission, I watched him push the book off his lap and stand up. “I’m going to take a quick shower and get dressed.” He shuffled down the hallway. Before he could reach his room, Edgar shot off the ground and followed him.

  “Okay. I’ll make some coffee,” I said, as his footsteps retreated down the hall. Once his door clicked closed, I slid off the couch and headed into the kitchen. My neck ached, so I rolled it around in order to loosen it up. It felt good waking up next to Kyler, and that bothered me. I needed to keep things platonic between us. He was my friend and my boss, nothing more. For the first time in my life, I was starting to feel safe, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that.

  I pushed the coffee tin in my direction, the bottom scraping against the tile counter. Then I popped the top, allowing the aromatic scent to spill out. Inhaling it, I scooped some into the coffee maker. After adding water, I pushed it on and waited for it to percolate. I was going to need it today after the excitement last night. My nerves were frayed. Kyler said he didn’t find anyone on the property, but I still felt anxious.

  The minute the coffee pot was filled, I poured myself a cup and took a sip. It was so hot it practically burned my tongue, but I didn’t care. The instant the coffee hit my insides, I could feel it working. I started to perk up, instantly more awake.

  “Yes! Coffee.” Kyler made a beeline for it. He wasn’t kidding about caffeine being his addiction. I’d learned that he could barely function until he’d had his first cup. After pouring himself a mug, he turned to me. “So, how far did you get in the story?” His hair was wet from the shower, his face scrubbed clean. He wore a black shirt and jeans, his feet bare. As he lifted his head, his silver eyes sparkled under the kitchen lights.

  I gulped down a sip of coffee. “Oh, I finally figured out the significance of the title.”

  “Did you?”

  His response made me think twice. Why did he seem surprised? Was I wrong? Ugh. I didn’t want to sound like an idiot to Kyler. So I clamped my mouth shut wishing I had never said anything at all.

  “So, I take it you read all through Clara’s date with the stranger. Then Robert went home,” Kyler coached me.

  I nodded. “Yeah, and he looked at the yellow string his mother had given him as a boy. It was the only thing he had left of hers.”

  “The yellow string,” Kyler said matter-of-factly with a slight bob of his head.

  “So, is that the reason for the title?” I was second-guessing myself now.

  “Yes. The string will carry more significance as the novel progresses, but it is that string that I’m referring to.”

  “I know he mentioned how she’d tie a string to his finger when he was a boy to help him remember things. It’s funny, because I’ve heard that expression before but I didn’t think people really did that.”

  “Well, I don’t know if people do, but Robert’s mom did.” Kyler smiled.

  I supposed that was the beauty of being a writer. You could make your characters do whatever you wanted. I could hear Edgar walking around in the back of the house, the creak of the floorboards beneath his paws. Kyler drank his coffee, and the clock on the wall ticked. The sun was setting, and a soft glow illuminated the small kitchen. Coffee was pumping through my veins now, making me feel warm and energized.

  “How is it going with your manuscript?”

  “Good.” Kyler grabbed a banana out of the fruit basket on the counter. “Want one?”

  “Sure.” He tossed me one, and I caught it in my fist. I peeled back the skin. “Is the story similar to The Yellow String?”

  “Sort of.” He took a bite out of the banana, and his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

  “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?” He was always so tightlipped when I asked him about his work in progress. That’s what he called it. Either that, or he’d shorten it to WIP. I was learning a lot about author lingo.

  “Nope.” He grinned as he tossed his banana peel in the nearby trash can.

  “Maybe I’ll have to sneak a peek at it,” I teased.

  His face grew serious. “No, don’t do that.”

  I was taken aback by his firm tone. “I was teasing,” I mumbled, staring hard at the floor.

  “I know,” Kyler said gently. “It’s just that I never let anyone read my rough drafts.” He moved closer to me. “But I promise that you’ll be the first one to read it when it’s ready.”

  Softening, I nodded. I never should’ve joked with him about that. It’s obvious that he’s protective of his work. And I was sure he had a good reason for it. However, I still couldn’t help the curiosity that rose inside of me, especially when he left the kitchen and turned on his computer. When he pulled up the document, I leaned against the counter, watching him as he began to type. Why was he so secretive about it? Could his first draft be that bad?

  ELEVEN

  True to his word, Kyler took a break from writing that afternoon to teach me to shoot a gun. Thankfully it was a little warmer than the day before. The clouds had parted to allow the sun to peek through. Its rays weren’t very strong, but they felt good shining on my skin. However, the ground was still a little wet as we tromped through it. My tennis shoes were damp, water seeping through the thin material.

  “What kind of animals have you hunted?” I asked Kyler as we walked to the far side of his property.

  Kyler held the hunting rifle in his hand, pointing it downward while Edgar ran ahead of us. “Deer, mainly.”

  I nodded, my mind immediately flying back to a memory of watching Bambi as a child. Despite myself, I shivered.

  “But I haven’t hunted in a long time,” Kyler added, as if he could read my mind. When he stopped walking, I noticed a board with a target painted on, tacked to the fence a few feet away.

  Apprehension bloomed inside of me. I’d never been very athletic or coordinated. In school I was always picked last for every group activity in PE. The last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself in front of Kyler.

  My face must have betrayed my fe
ar, because Kyler said, “Don’t worry. It’s not that difficult. If I can do it, anyone can.”

  I was surprised by his statement. He usually seemed so confident and self-assured. “Why would you say that?” A subtle breeze kicked up a strand of my hair and it slapped me in the face. I brushed it back from my cheek, my fingertips lighting on my scars.

  “I’ve always been more comfortable sitting inside reading or writing than playing sports. When I was a kid, my dad wanted me to play baseball so bad. He had been a baseball player and so had his dad, so he thought it was something all boys in the family should do. Man, was he disappointed when I couldn’t get the hang of it. I used to spend every game daydreaming out in the outfield. I can’t tell you how many balls I let fly right by me without even attempting to catch them.”

  It was the first story Kyler had told me about his childhood, and I hung on every word. I could picture little Kyler out in the ball field, his head lost in an imaginary world.

  “I’m not sure he’s ever gotten over that disappointment,” Kyler added darkly. Then without missing a beat, he smiled at me. “How is your hand?”

  “What?” I was confused by his abrupt question.

  “The cut from last night. How does it look today?”

  I held out my palm. Earlier I had taken the Band-Aid off. There was still a little cut, but not too bad. Kyler inspected it. “Looks good.” He glanced up at me, a challenging gleam in his eyes. “Ready to give it a try?”

  “Um…I guess.” I squared my shoulders, trying to mentally prepare myself for this.

  “Here.” He shoved two small squishy orange things into my palm.

  “What are these?”

  “Ear plugs.”

  They felt waxy in my fingers. I curled up my nose.

  “Relax, they’ve never been used.”

  I looked up at Kyler. “I didn’t think you’d give me used ear plugs. They just feel weird.”

  “So you’re one of those girls, huh?” Edgar barked in the distance. When I glanced around, I saw a car driving down the road. Upon noticing a girl in the driver’s seat, I relaxed.

  “What kind of girl would that be?” I was confused at what he was insinuating.

  “The kind of girl who is bothered by certain textures.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” I admitted. “Although I’ve never really thought about it.” Kyler made me see myself in a different way. It was like he helped me understand myself better.

  “My mom’s like that,” he said. “Can’t eat anything with a funny texture, and won’t even touch a sponge because she doesn’t like how it feels. She will only clean with rags.”

  “I’m guessing you’re not like that?”

  “Nah. I figured it was a girl thing. Boys don’t care about things like that. They’ll play in the mud and eat anything that’s put in front of them.”

  Even though I wasn’t sure his view of boys was correct, having known plenty of picky ones in my life, I smiled in response. I put the ear plugs in my ears the way Kyler showed me. It did feel weird and uncomfortable, but I did it anyway. Before we started, Kyler called Edgar and made him sit behind us, far away from the line of fire. The dog obeyed, curling up in the grass.

  “I’ll show you how to shoot first, and then I’ll let you try.”

  I nodded, thinking he meant that he would shoot the target himself by way of instruction. When he ended up behind me, I realized he was going to show me how to shoot the same way he had taught me to cut an avocado. The realization caused my head to spin. My breath caught in my throat when his chest collided with my back and his arms came up around my sides. Little goosebumps covered my arms as his hands skated over my flesh. I had to remind myself to take steady, even breaths. In the past, I never thought breathing was something you had to work at. It was always something that came naturally. But whenever Kyler touched me or stood so close I could catch his familiar scent, the ability to breathe eluded me.

  “I’ll shoot the first time. You watch.” His breath was hot against my face.

  I wanted to nod or respond to him in some way, but I was frozen in place like a block of ice. He leaned over, his hair feathering over mine. When he cocked the gun and then pulled the trigger, the sound was deafening despite the ear plugs. I was so grateful that I had listened to him and put them in. Kyler held me steady, as my body jerked. If he hadn’t kept me still, I know I would’ve jumped right out of my skin. The bullet hit the target right in the middle.

  “Nice shot,” I said. My voice sounded far away, but by the expression on Kyler’s face I could tell I must have shouted. Not that I could help it. My ears were still ringing.

  “Okay, now place your fingers here.” Kyler picked up my hand and showed me how to grip the gun. I fought to keep my heartbeat slow, but it was a losing battle. It raced so fast it felt like I was high again. “Now look through here to aim.” He put a hand on my unscarred cheek, maneuvering my face, and then held it steady. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to feel his fingers on my skin all day. “Can you see the target through there?”

  “Yes.” I was careful not to move as I stared through the little hole at the circled painted on the board.

  “Great. Now, this is how to cock the gun.” He pressed down on my finger, and I heard the click. “Then you press down here to shoot.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut when the gun went off. The bullet landed on the fence to the right of the target.

  Kyler laughed. “Not bad, but next time don’t close your eyes.”

  “Sorry.” I frowned.

  “Hey, I did a lot worse my first time. At least you were in the vicinity of the target.” He helped me aim a second time. “C’mon. Let’s try again.”

  We tried several more times until I hit the board. It wasn’t exactly on target, but pretty close. My arms were sore, and my ears still rang as I pulled the plugs out of my ears.

  “You did great.” Kyler stood in front of me, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

  “Think I could shoot an attacker now?” I said in a lighthearted manner, even though I truly wanted to know the answer.

  “You won’t have to as long as I’m around.” The wind blew over my face, causing a lock of hair to escape and wave in the breeze. Kyler reached out and tucked it behind my ear. His thumb grazed my cheek, the side without the scars. “But we’ll practice again, just in case.”

  “You think it’s necessary?”

  He didn’t pull his hand back. In fact, he curved his palm around my face and stepped closer to me. So close our noses almost touched. “Yes, I do.”

  His words alarmed me. “But why? Won’t you always be here?”

  “Always,” he spoke firmly. “Still, it will make me feel better to know that you can defend yourself.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed.

  He swallowed hard, and I watched his throat swell. His head tilted slightly, his fingers warm on my flesh. My pulse quickened, and my palms filled with moisture as he lowered his lips toward mine. Was he going to kiss me? When I registered what was happening, panic choked me. I wanted to feel his lips against mine more than anything in the world. But I couldn’t. Not now.

  I swiftly turned my head. “We should probably get back inside.” Pulling away from him, I ran my hands over my arms. “It’s getting cold. Looks like another storm is coming through.”

  Kyler glanced up at the sky, at the dark clouds hovering. “Yeah, you’re right.” Holding the gun in one hand, he draped the other arm over my shoulder and steered me forward. Edgar jumped up and joined us. This time I didn’t pull away. I was grateful that he even wanted to touch me after what I’d done. In my experience guys didn’t like being rejected. It usually resulted in my face getting dented in.

  But Kyler wasn’t like other guys. That was becoming more apparent every day I spent with him.

  That night the storm returned with a vengeance. The wind whistled through the trees and rattled the windows. Thunder clapped and rumbled so loudly I could feel it all through my
body, reminding me of the bass at a rock concert. Lightning lit up the sky like a strobe light, and rain pelted the roof.

  It was late. Usually at this time I would retire to my room and get some reading in before bed. But I couldn’t bring myself to go to my room. I hadn’t been in there for more than a few minutes since last night. I knew I couldn’t sleep on the couch again tonight, but still I wanted to postpone the inevitable. It would’ve been nice if I could at least wait out the storm. All the noises would fuel my paranoia.

  Kyler sat on the couch, his back to me, petting Edgar who was lying down by his feet. The room was silent except for the sounds of the storm raging outside. He owned a television, but I’d never seen him watch it. Ever since I’d stepped foot in this house, I felt like I’d gone back in time. Like I’d traveled to another era, to simpler days.

  “Do you like tea?” Kyler asked suddenly.

  I stared at him from where I stood in the hallway, surprised that he even knew I was there. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I’d been hovering in the doorway to my room trying to come up with the courage to step inside.

  “Um…yeah,” I lied. Truthfully, I’d never had a cup of tea, but I didn’t want to admit that. What kind of person had never tried tea? The kind that hung out with alcoholics and druggies, that’s who.

  “I was about to make some. Join me?” He stood, heading toward the kitchen.

  “Okay.” Grateful for the offer, I followed him. I had already changed into my pajamas, but Kyler still wore his jeans and shirt. Frankly, I was glad that he hadn’t put his pajamas on yet, since then he’d be practically naked and I’d be tempted to stare at his body all night long. Even fully clothed he was distracting enough. A million times since this afternoon I’d mentally kicked myself for not allowing him to kiss me. I knew I’d made the right decision, but it still killed me. When would a guy as amazing as Kyler ever try to kiss me again? My guess was never. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve felt like.

  “What kind do you want?” Kyler interrupted my thoughts. “Black tea, green tea, or mint?”