Break Free

by Amber Garza

  “Dammit.” I flinched when Kyler slammed his hand down on the counter. “I knew they said something mean to you. I knew it.” He came up behind me slowly, waiting until I knew he was there before running his hands down the length of my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me? I want to protect you, Jade. Don’t you know that?” His tone was soft, not accusatory.

  Biting my lip, I leaned against him. “No, they didn’t say anything to me. They didn’t even see me. I hid because I was scared.”

  “You don’t have to go outside anymore. Not if it scares you. I can take Edgar out.” Kyler brushed the hair back off my shoulders.

  Why was he making this so difficult? Why did he have to be so goddamn nice? I took a deep breath, knowing that if I was going to do this I had to say it fast before I changed my mind. “They said you killed your wife.”

  His hands tightened around my arms, his fingers digging into my flesh. I held my breath and stared out the window.

  “What?” His tone was strained.

  “They were gossiping to each other, and I totally get that. Kids in my hometown have made up rumors about my scars for years. But it’s only because they don’t know the real story.” I turned to face him. “I don’t believe them. I know you’d never hurt anyone. I just-” I let the words trail off, not having the courage to ask him the question lingering on the tip of my tongue.

  “You just want to know the truth,” Kyler finished.

  I nodded.

  “And you deserve it.” He snatched up my hands in his, threading our fingers together. “I guess I kind of liked that you didn’t know about my past. That I could be myself around you without any preconceived notions standing in our way. But I should’ve known you’d find out one day. People in this town have big mouths. And it’s only fair for you to find out about Justine from me, not any of them.”

  I sucked in a breath at the mention of her name. “Justine?”

  “Yeah. She was my wife.” Kyler released my hands. Reaching up, he played with a strand of my hair, but his gaze was trained over my shoulder, a faraway look in his eyes. “I met her shortly after moving here. Her family didn’t like me. They saw me as an outsider. And it didn’t help that I was a struggling writer. Not exactly the type of guy Justine’s parents wanted her to end up with.” The faint hint of a smile danced over his lips. “We got married three years ago, and then four months later she died in a car accident.”

  His words slammed into me. “I’m so sorry.” I touched his arm softly. “If it was an accident, then why do people say you killed her?”

  “I sort of did, I guess,” he said. “It was raining the night Justine died. I was busy working on The Yellow String. It was due to my publisher later that week, so I was on a tight deadline. We were out of food, so I sent Justine to the store.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have. Her car needed new brakes, and the roads were slick.” He closed his eyes. “It was stupid and selfish of me, but I was completely lost in my book. I wasn’t thinking straight.” He paused, breathing in through his nose. “Her family blamed me. The whole town did, actually. I was the outsider who’d swept into town and married one of their own. It didn’t matter what I said in my defense. There was nothing I could do or say to make things better. The only thing they wanted was the one thing I couldn’t give them - Justine back.”

  “But it’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

  He looked at me. “I’ve wished I could go back and redo that night a million times. But life isn’t like one of my books. I can’t re-write the ending. It happened. She’s gone, and I have to live with it.”

  “You miss her,” I said it like a statement, not a question. It was obvious in the way he said her name, and the expression on his face when he spoke of her.

  “Every day.” He rested a hand on my shoulder. “But having you here has made that better. You’ve made me want to live again. You’ve given me a reason to wake up in the morning. When I think back on the day I found you in the barn, I feel like it was destiny; like we were meant to find each other.”

  My stomach churned, and I stepped away from Kyler. My head was spinning. He thought it was fate that we’d found each other. That somehow I could replace his dead wife, who was probably nothing like me. She was probably one of those nice girls who went to church and got straight A’s in school. She’d never lived on the streets or given up her body for a bag of dope. It was all too much. I couldn’t be her. I couldn’t be the girl Kyler wanted me to. This person he thought he knew didn’t exist. She was a mirage. “I can’t replace her.”

  “And I don’t want you to.” He touched my face. “I only want you to be yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

  I leaned into his hand, my eyelids fluttering. “But you don’t know me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I do know you.” He smiled. “I know that you like ice cream, you love to read, you don’t know how to use chopsticks, you forget to put sugar in your cake, you drink your coffee black, you always wear your hair down, and you hardly ever eat breakfast.” Stepping forward, he swept a finger up to my chin. “And I know that you have the most beautiful laugh I’ve ever heard.”

  “But you don’t know who I was before I came here. You have no idea what I’ve done; who I’ve been.”

  “Jade, I’m not interested in getting to know the person you were. I only want to know who you are right now. Your past doesn’t matter to me. I only want you to give me your present.”

  And there went another piece of my heart.

  “Can you do that?” he asked, stroking my face.

  Hesitating, I stared into his eyes. Those silver eyes that saw right through me, that pierced my very soul. “Yes,” I breathed. “I can do that.”

  “Have you read this?” I peered up from the novel in my hands.

  Kyler blinked behind his reading glasses. “Yes, I have, actually.”

  That surprised me. The more I read of this novel, the less I could picture Kyler reading it. “Did you like it?”

  Leaning back, and slinging his arm over the couch cushion, Kyler grinned. “Not particularly.”

  “I didn’t think so.” The novel was filled with cheesy one liners and lots of chance encounters. So different from the dark and moody feel of Kyler’s work. I was shocked it was even on his bookshelf. A thought struck me then. One that turned my stomach. “Was this Justine’s book?”

  “No. Justine wasn’t a reader. She’s the reason I have the TV.” He yanked his reading glasses off and set them down in his lap. “In the evenings when I would read she would watch those silly reality shows. I still have no idea how she could stomach them.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. The picture Kyler painted was puzzling. Justine didn’t sound at all like someone Kyler would want to spend his life with. How could he be with a woman so different from him?

  “She never understood my passion for the written word. I always wished I could share that part of my life with her.” His hand found mine. “That’s why it’s been nice having you here.”

  Heat crept up my neck and spilled across my cheeks. I cleared my throat. “What made you buy this book then?”

  “It was my grandma’s. She was a sucker for sappy love stories.” His face darkened, sadness flickering in his eyes. “She had a rough life. Her father was a tyrant, and then she ended up marrying one.”

  My insides twisted, the familiar memories surfacing.

  Kyler’s hand squeezed mine. “Sometimes you remind me of her. She would’ve loved you.”

  The air around me felt charged, and I shivered. Those teenagers said that the ghost of Justine roamed this property, but I knew they were wrong. If anyone haunted this place it was Kyler’s grandma. It was her spirit that lingered, that washed over me, that gave me strength. Now it all made sense. We were kindred spirits, her and I.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Kyler had been so immersed in his fictional world that he had hardly slept or eaten in three days. All day and all night he was at it,
constantly pounding on his keyboard round the clock. I kept Edgar busy and tried to stay out of Kyler’s way. Not that it would have mattered. Kyler didn’t even seem to notice us. It was like he was completely oblivious to the fact that life was happening all around him.

  I knew exactly what that felt like. To be able to disconnect from reality. To follow your mind to another realm entirely. It had been my coping mechanism for as long as I could remember. But it was still odd to see Kyler do it.

  Honestly, I missed him. I missed our conversations and easy banter. Now all I saw was the back of his head as he stared at the damn screen.

  When he finally emerged from his writing binge, he seemed dazed and out of it. Not that I was surprised. He was probably hungry, dehydrated, and in serious need of a nap.

  “Did you finish?” I asked him as he staggered into the kitchen, wearing the same sweatpants and t-shirt he’d worn for days. Funny how he still looked sexy to me even now.

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

  “Great.” I rubbed my palms together in anticipation. “When do I get to see it?”

  “Um…listen, Jade…” He lifted his head, and what I saw inside his eyes made my stomach twist. His expression was unreadable, but there was something there, something under the surface. A storm raging in his eyes that made me wary. He blew out a breath. “It’s not ready for you yet. I’ll let you know when it is.” Glancing down, he scrunched up his nose. “I need to go shower and get cleaned up.” Without another word, he spun on his heels and headed down the hallway. The whole conversation felt like a slap in the face.

  Edgar leapt off the ground where he’d been curled up, and followed at Kyler’s heels. I stood with my back against the counter, staring at the pot of coffee I just made, until I heard the click of Kyler’s door as he closed it. Swallowing hard, I shoved my emotions down. What was that all about? Pushing off the counter, I walked toward the hallway. I heard the shower turn on from inside Kyler’s room. Glancing into the family room, my gaze landed on the computer. The screen was dark, but I knew that the manuscript was only a click away.

  The Red Lighter.

  Ever since I’d read those words, the red lighter had haunted my thoughts. It mocked me while I slept, and when I awoke my face was hot, my skin tingling. During the day it nagged at the back of my mind like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I had to know if that was the title of Kyler’s book. And if so, why? What significance could a red lighter play in his latest story? I knew exactly what significance it held in mine. But surely he couldn’t know about that, could he?

  Standing still, I listened for the familiar sounds of the shower. Then I moved deliberately toward the computer. As I neared it my heart hammered in my chest and my mouth went dry. My trembling fingers hovered over the mouse. Could I really do this? I licked my lips and turned my head toward the hallway again, honing in on the sound of water trickling.

  Dropping my hand on the mouse, I moved it swiftly over the mouse pad. The computer hummed as it came to life. I paused, holding my breath, but the shower was still going strong. Pulse racing, I clicked on his recent documents. I found the one entitled WIP, and sucked in a breath. Kyler would kill me if he caught me doing this. But I had to find out the truth about this story.

  As I clicked to open the document, I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer. I’d never been the praying type, but I felt like this moment warranted it. More than anything in the world I wanted to be wrong about this. The document opened, and my stomach dropped.

  The Red Lighter, by Kyler James

  There it was. The truth staring me in the face.

  I heard the shower turn off, but I couldn’t stop now. Kyler would still have to get dressed and brush his teeth. That gave me at least another five to ten minutes. Bending over the desk, I swiftly scrolled down to the first page of the story.

  Alison’s skin was perfect. All smooth and pale like porcelain. In the sunlight it almost looked like silk, so radiant and glowing. There was no blemish, not a wrinkle or scar.

  I rolled my eyes. Man, what was it with this guy and his need to write about perfectly beautiful women?

  Footsteps from Kyler’s room caught my attention. With my heart pounding, I looked back at the screen. I had to hurry.

  Until it met the red lighter.

  My body heated up. The room swayed around me. It didn’t make sense. There was no way this book was about me. It was impossible. Still, it was too farfetched to believe it was all a coincidence. This wasn’t an episode of The Twilight Zone. This was real life.

  I clutched the desk to keep from falling over. Edgar barked and I heard the knob to Kyler’s bedroom door turning. In one fluid movement, I clicked out of the document and leapt back from the desk. My butt hit the couch, causing me to bite my tongue. It stung as my tooth sliced it.

  “Hey.” Kyler appeared behind me.

  Struggling to take steady even breaths, I turned to face him. My gaze flitted to the wall, the ground, my hands. Anywhere but his eyes.

  His brows knit together. “What’s going on?”

  Edgar raced to me, jumping up and pawing at my legs. Usually it annoyed me when he was this pushy, but right now I was grateful for the distraction. “Geez, someone’s hyper.” I shoved him off. “Okay, okay. I’ll take you outside.”

  “I’ll come with.”

  “No,” I said, and then wished I could take it back.

  The hurt look on Kyler’s face cut to my heart.

  I hurried to make it right. “It’s just that you’ve been working so hard. Don’t you want to take a nap or something?”

  “We haven’t spent any time together in three days.” Kyler took a step toward me.

  “That’s not my fault.” The words shot from my mouth before I could stop them. I couldn’t help it. I was angry. I felt betrayed on so many different levels right now.

  Kyler halted, frowning. “I thought you understood that I was on a deadline.”

  “Yeah, I did. Sorry,” I said softly, not wanting to pick a fight with him. As angry as I was, I couldn’t afford to push him away. This was not the time to let my emotions get the best of me. In the past my quick temper and scathing tongue got me in more trouble than I cared to admit. I needed to keep my mouth shut and hang tight until I could figure out what was in that manuscript. Then I could decide what to do.

  He moved closer. “I hated being away from you all that time, but I had to.” His hands came up around my sides. “But now I’m finished, and we have all the time in the world.”

  I hated how his touch aroused me, how his words had the power to disarm me. Men had always been my undoing. Kyler had made me believe he was different. I had started to think that maybe this time I’d chosen right. That perhaps now I’d found someone who would treat me well, not use and abuse me like the others. Now I wasn’t so sure. But damn if I didn’t want to believe in him.

  Thinking of walking out his front door and never coming back caused panic to rise up in me and cut off my air supply. I wasn’t sure I could breathe without him. And more importantly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  “I made some coffee,” I said, forcing away the morbid thoughts.

  “Great. I could definitely use some.”

  “I’ll grab you cup.” I sidestepped him.

  “No. I’ll get it.”

  He never let me wait on him. Since I’d gotten here he had never allowed me to get him a cup of coffee or bring him food while he wrote. It made me feel slightly ashamed of my earlier suspicions. I’d been here over a month and not once had Kyler treated me poorly or lost his temper with me. In fact, he’d done nothing but care for me, protect me, and make me feel safe. Even so, I couldn’t get the words from his manuscript out of my head.

  Why was he writing about a girl with a burned face? Was she me? If so, how did he know my story? I’d never spoken of that day to anyone. I had never told a single soul about what he had done to me with that red lighter. Now it seemed that someone did know.
>
  Was it possible that Kyler had stolen more than my heart? Had he somehow stolen my memories too?

  TWENTY-TWO

  When I read The Yellow String, a part of me could identity with Robert. There were times in my life when I felt like there was more than one person living inside of me. Like there were multiple Jades clamoring inside my body all vying for a chance to be the dominant one; the one that would surface.

  Manipulation was a skill I’d perfected over the years. It was a way of survival for me. I had to be the person needed in that moment. If submission was what he wanted, I gave it to him. If crying upset him, I stopped. When he berated me for being a book nerd, I hid my books, not daring to read them when he was home. But in my quiet moments when I was alone, I would read with voracity. I would cry. Then I would wipe my tears, lift my head and be strong.

  And I never knew which Jade was the real one. Was she the strong woman? Was she the weepy one? Was she the book nerd? Was she submissive? Or was she a combination of all of those things?

  It wasn’t until I moved here and shed my former ways that I finally started to explore who I really was. For the first time in my life I had the freedom to get to know myself. At times I pictured the old Jade hidden away, maybe hanging in the closet like an old dress, gathering dust. The idea of pulling her out again sickened me. Only I had no choice. It was time to reach into the closet, blow off the dust and put her back on.

  What I needed to do wasn’t a job for the new me. The girl who was softened around the edges, who trusted too freely and gave her heart up willingly, would never be able to pull this off. However, former Jade would do just fine.

  “We’re out of food.” I slammed the fridge door closed with my hip. “I’ll head to the store in a little bit.”

  Before Kyler even spoke, I knew what he would say. “No. It’s okay. I’ll go.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m stronger now. I can stand up to those nasty townspeople.” I grinned.

  “I promised to keep you safe.” He strode across the kitchen. Curling his hand around my head, he drew me to him and pressed his lips to my forehead. They were cool against my warm flesh, and I caught a whiff of his woodsy scent. “And that’s what I’m going to do.”