Before We Fractured: Books 1-3

by Bradon Nave

  Stumbling from the driver’s seat, I tried my hardest to keep from observing the damage to Cory’s car as I walked briskly to the front door. I felt like screaming when I opened the door, but my voice was gone.

  His office door was closed. It was over; the anxiety was winning. Bent over, my elbows rested on my knees as my palms covered my eyes—and then I heard her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” I heard Kacey say from behind the office door. Her soft tone lured me from psychosis as I stepped closer to the door.

  “Say it again, Kassandra,” Dr. Cline said, his voice cold and abrasive.

  “I’m fractured…I’m broken without you,” she whimpered.

  That’s not right…

  “Good girl, Kassandra. Open your legs further, now.”

  Hearing this sent my head to another realm. My shoulder lowered as I smashed through the wooden double doors.

  I looked upon a scene too disgusting to digest even after a lifetime of therapy. Kacey was nude from the waist down, lying flat on the desk. Her uncle had obviously been fondling her prior to my intrusion. The bastard jumped back from between her legs as I charged into the room.

  “Jessie Kasper! What are you doing! You are interrupting an exam—”

  “I trusted you!” I yelled, running at him as my fist met the bridge of his nose.

  “Jessie!” Kacey screamed as Dr. Cline fell backward to the ground. A primal rage had my foot repeatedly meeting his midsection as he attempted to crawl to the couch.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Kacey dress.

  “You son of a bitch!” I yelled out, reaching for his hair while I beat him in the side of the head.

  “Jessie!” Kacey screamed again as I released the sick bastard and looked to her.

  “I’m…I’m so sorry, Kacey. I didn’t know. I’m so freaking sorry…I just didn’t know.”

  Her long, dark hair, messy and tangled, coupled with her darkened eyes left me wanting to kill Dr. Cline. I hated him instantly.

  “Don’t stop,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “Don’t stop!” she screamed. Pure rage tore from her throat as she walked to me.

  “Wait!” Dr. Cline attempted to speak, but my bloodied fist met his mouth prior to him being able to beg.

  We both hit and kicked the man as he attempted to cover his head while he cried out in agony. I didn’t even realize she was hitting him with it until the blood spatter from the ceiling began falling back to us. Kacey had grabbed the log poker from the fireplace in the office—a thick, heavy piece of iron—and was pummeling her uncle’s skull. His head was now malformed-looking.

  “Kacey!” I yelled, throwing my arms around her as we fell to the couch. She wailed into my chest.

  “I hate him! I hate him, Jessie!”

  “I know…I know,” I said, the shock setting in. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  Holding her tightly, the reality of the situation began creeping into my psychology as I observed the blood on the ceiling and on our clothing. I slowly leaned forward to look at our victim.

  “Oh my God! Kacey…we killed him!”

  “What?” she asked, standing slowly from the couch. “No, Jessie. I killed him.”

  “No…Kacey, we’re in this…we did this,” I replied as I stood to meet her. “How long has this been…how long has he been hurting you?”

  Her eyes filled instantly as she turned from me. “Dammit!” she cried out.

  “Talk to me, Kacey. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “We came here to get away from it…” she whimpered.

  “Get away from what?”

  “My grandfather!” she shouted as she turned to me.

  “No…oh my God, no.”

  “Yes…Jessie. Mom found out after my dad died. So we moved here so my uncle could help me. Like father, like son.”

  “Come here,” I said as I raised my arms to embrace her.

  She cried into my chest. “I’m glad he’s dead, Jessie! I’m so glad he’s dead…”

  “We’re in so much trouble, Kacey.”

  “I’m in trouble, Jess…not you.”

  “No, Kacey. We’re in this together…no matter what.”

  Her trembling hands wrapped around my waist as she looked to me. “I’m going to Louisiana,” she said lowly.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to Louisiana.”

  “What…what’s in Louisiana?”

  “Him.”

  “You’re going after your grandfather? Kacey, you can’t, we’re in trouble as it is—”

  “My life is over, Jessie!” she shrieked as she pushed off me. “This is going to be all over the news. All of my darkest secrets are going to be out there for everyone to read about.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “You can’t.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “This doesn’t end well for us, Jessie.”

  “Look at us, Kacey…it was never going to end well for us. Any progress I’ve supposedly made is now bullshit. My head is screwed completely. Thinking I could ever be normal was just stupid…I am the stupidest person you’ve ever met.”

  “No…you’re not. You’re my boyfriend, and you’re the only person I really love.”

  “Okay…we leave our phones, we take the Mustang, and we leave now.”

  “Okay.”

  I looked to Kacey, knowing she was the rest of my youth…possibly my life—and that was my choice. I’d been so concerned with cancers of my body that’d I’d been oblivious to the cancerous asshole that had completely destroyed any shot I had at normalcy. Dr. Cline was a malignancy in every sense of the word. We looked to his bloodied body once more as I reached for her hand. I loved her, toxic or not, but that didn’t change the fact I was nineteen, I was fractured, and I was now a fugitive on the brink of continuing a crime spree. Only this morning, I was simply a kid in class.

  Stepping over Dr. Cline’s body, we walked out of the tattered office…and into our downfall.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Are…are you ready? I really don’t mind waiting.” His eyes, wide with a dancing excitement, boasted something luring and yet sickening to them.

  “I know you don’t. And yes, I’m ready.” Walking to the door, my heart raced with a certain dread. Uncertainty had my hands shaking as if I were walking blindly in a dark alley. His gaze tattooed on me like something un-washable—something volatile; but it was only Jessie. Why must my head be so screwed?

  I closed the door, momentarily wanting to simply step out into the hall. Unable to turn around, yet I found myself turning—it was too late. There was no stopping this. How could I tell him no now? Within seconds he’d be looking on me; wanting me.

  The look of intensity sitting behind their eyes—clutching the sheets; they were all the same. I had no choice; I said I was ready. This was more than sensual touching or anything with my mouth—I would give a piece of myself away; there was nothing left to give.

  Stripping my clothing off in a less than seductive nature, I merely threw it to the floor and allowed him to visualize me—to take me in for what I was good for. Maybe he cared for me—maybe he would allow me my lame and unadventurous guidelines.

  “So…a few rules, okay?” Watching his face, I was surprised to find his gaze resting on mine rather than my body.

  “’K.”

  Breathing heavily, I prepared to make the ultimate request. “Please don’t…please don’t touch me below my waist with your hands. And I want the lights off the entire time.” Swallowing hard, I waited for his response—surely he thought my request odd.

  “No…no problem. But um…the entire time? I think you’re giving me a little too much credit.” His smile slapped the majority of apprehension from me; he’d seemingly been just as worried about his performance as I had the entire event. It was innocent. We were innocent, not volatile. He wasn’t him—he was Jessie.

  “You’re such a dork.” Reaching for the light I i
nhaled deeply and walked to the bed. “Okay…you can touch me…but if I say to stop…please if I say to stop—”

  “Kacey, at any point in time all you have to do is say whoa and I’ll put the brakes on. I won’t put my hands or anything else where you don’t want me to. We’ve got all the time in the world. We’re good.”

  Sliding my underwear off, I crawled under the sheets with him—attempting to navigate through the bedding and vast emotions my mind was conjuring to find him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Alone with my thoughts is the most dangerous place to be. No monster is bigger or more menacing than what creeps into my mind to rearrange things—turning them as wild as the actions that tend to follow.

  Each time I find myself asking why I did or said something—but this time, for some reason this time I was right. He should have known.

  He took me. I said it was okay but he should have known. Why didn’t he know? Why did I instigate it? He said we had time but that’s something that all of them say—or is it? So many unhealthy experiences to contend with from my past that deciphering if something is healthy is basically impossible.

  The physical responses of my body—in response to his body, that’s where my emotional turmoil boils from. So much unfamiliarity yet so many things were the same. The sounds and the heat between us. The disgusting physical effects the encounter produced in both of us—disgusting because briefly, momentarily, I found myself fascinated and even aroused by the situation; this was new to me. Attempting to understand if this was natural or malice was yet another piece of the puzzle that left me nauseated—of course it was natural! Millions of normal and responsible young couples have sex every day. I’m sure they leave the bed or vehicle or randomly selected area feeling fulfilled and unviolated. Why must my head be so screwed?

  The aftermath…torturous to an extent. He’d been calm and easy during the entire three minute ordeal, yet I couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling of guilt and self-disgust in my head.

  When we were side by side under his thin sheets, I found my emotions tearing me into pieces. To hear someone say they’re torn is common—to experience this is something else entirely. His broad arms cradling me into his chest brought about a calming sense; it was nice. Had this coupling not come on the heels of him climbing on top of me and touching me…perhaps I wouldn’t have found myself wanting to knee him in the balls and run. But then the thought of hurting him—I shouldn’t have given him permission!

  Time to sort my thoughts was necessary. But he wouldn’t allow for that.

  Text message after text message—why can’t he let me be? If I can’t wade through this I’ll surface looking like a crazy person on an emotional tangent. It must be nice to eat pizza with his best friend every damn night—his biggest worry being how many curls he’s going to pound out at the gym; idiots.

  He’s not an idiot, and his biggest worry is bigger than mine—I’m such a bitch. I just wish he would stop calling and stop texting. This will pass—it always does. It will pass and I’ll recollect and reflect.

  “Dammit!” And he’s calling again. He won’t stop! He’s relentless. He said there would be time but there’s not! There’s never any time. There’s never any space for recollection or reflection. There’s only them and me. He is them! How can I find any form of clarity if he won’t even let me breathe? So selfish. If he wants to talk—we’ll talk.

  Calling him, I anticipated hurting him—I wanted to hurt him hard.

  “Kacey…are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” As if he cared. He got what he wanted from me.

  “Why aren’t you at school?” Like that is any of his damn concern. Maybe I didn’t want him salivating at the sight of me—reminiscing on what we did.

  “Hello? Do you not feel well or something? I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

  “I feel fine, Jessie!” I wanted to see his face—even if only briefly while I gritted my teeth. I wanted to see him hurt.

  “What…what’s wrong? Are you mad at me for something?”

  “There’s a lot going on…I’ve had a lot to deal with…I’m sorry, Jessie.” Hoping my cold tone and short structure would coax him to prod me further, I anticipated drawing tears or at least raw emotion.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “The other night…what was that all about? I mean, seriously.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “We shouldn’t have done that, Jessie…and you know that.”

  “’K.”

  The worst possible answer ever—I’m expecting a heartfelt explanation, a genuine apology and I get this. “’K? Is that all you have to say? ’K? Really?”

  “I don’t know what to say I guess…I told you I wanted to wait. Last time you got mad at me so I was just doing what I thought you wanted to do.”

  Racing, my heartrate sent my emotions to a place beyond my control. My mouth and the words that came from it were no longer housed in an area of rational containment. “Oh, my God. You’re seriously the stupidest person I’ve ever met in my life. I mean, seriously stupid. Do you ever listen to yourself talk?”

  “What? Kacey…why would you say that to me?”

  “Um…because you’re stupid, stupid.”

  “I’m gonna get off of here.”

  Finally—emotion. I hurt him. I hurt him for using me—touching me and leaving me to sort it all out like a tattered collage of feelings that made absolutely no sense. “Good…I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

  “No…no, you won’t.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hatefully I envisioned simply pressing end on my touchscreen and finalizing the nonsense that was this ridiculous conversation. He was wrong—he had to know he was wrong.

  “It means we’re done.”

  Like a bolt of lightning, his face—his smile and laughter shot through me. Perhaps this was my taste of clarity. Done, such an all-encompassing and definite word. There’s nothing after done. Even with reflection and recollection, done was done. “We’re done? You’re breaking up with me?”

  “Yep. I’m a good person, Kacey. Nobody is going to speak to me that way.”

  The confidence in his voice assured me he was serious. Within seconds my entire mindset changed completely. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely the violator I’d portrayed him to be—perhaps my emotions had once again run with total control. “So you’re going to go through life and just drop people because they’re having a bad day?” Where he’d gained confidence—I lacked it; my voice was cracking and on the verge of giving out.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Kacey. I…I really care about you…but your uncle is right. I’m at a point in my life where I can either get better really fast or get worse a lot faster. I need to be around people that respect me and have my best interest at heart. You just said I was the stupidest person you’ve ever met in your life…I’m pretty sure that disqualifies you. You need help, Kacey.”

  Reality—hindsight—clarity, whatever they’re called, they’re the real mean girls. Cruel and always lurking, they set back and wait until emotions are high and hateful words are spewed and then they bitch-slap with a force to be reckoned with. “Oh my God! This is really happening. You’re really going to dump me? You won’t at least think about it?”

  “What is there to think about? You get angry and lash out at me. Not going to happen. I’ve got my own issues to deal with and—”

  “I think I’m falling in love with you, Jessie. I think…I love you.” If the truth didn’t secure him to me—even with my damage, then we were doomed. I was doomed. He was all I had left. Imagining his sweet face in front of me, I became instantly infuriated with myself for wanting to hurt him. It wasn’t his body I was disgusted with. I lacked knowledge and experience of a healthy male sexual mindset—that was where my disgust settled. Allowing what happened to happen opened something I wasn’t ready for. It was something attached to a hideous scene of a little girl with wet cheeks and a tear-soa
ked teddy-bear, yet introduced an entirely new set of emotions. Even my former stargazer hadn’t done that with me. There were two monsters; my grandfather and my uncle. And then there was Jessie. How was I supposed to take that all in?

  His silence assured me he might at least be pondering. “Please…please just think about it. If you’re going to break up with me then do it to my face.”

  “Kacey! I would never call you stupid. I would never be mean to you. It’s not acceptable for you to lash out like that. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you but I can’t be a punching-bag for someone that refuses to get help. You wanted to have sex with me. I have never once made an advance towards you…and then you have the nerve to speak to me that way? Nah…no thank you. I’m better than that. I’m bigger than that. I’ll swing by your house this afternoon but it’s not going to change anything.”

  “Oh my God, I’m really going to lose you.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Kacey. I’m only the stupidest person you’ve ever met in your life.”

  “Jessie…listen—”

  He hung up the phone—he pressed end on the ridiculousness that was the conversation. I had successfully driven off the one thing that kept the tears at bay at night. Done is done.

  I understood it was best for him—logically it was the best thing ever for him at this point in his life. That didn’t soothe anything beating in my chest. My emotions hurt. Crashing to my bedroom floor I cried into my sleeves.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Breathing—just the act of breathing hurt. Preparing myself for such a loss was impossible. The ache, guilt, and turmoil associated with the monsters of my past were nothing compared to this. This was the ache of loss. It was similar to the loss of my father. Some might find it silly to make such comparisons, but Jessie was it.

  My mother and I were able to sort through the ash and find what was salvageable—but that wasn’t a relationship. In my heart of hearts I will always believe she knew before I told her. I feel a part of her knew long before I told her that I’d been violated as a small child. What parent doesn’t know?