Freeing

  Copyright © 2013 by E. K. Blair

  Cover Design by E.K. Blair

  Editing by Lisa Christman, Adept Edits

  Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  Photography by Andrei Vishnyakov

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-0-578-12996-9

  prologue

  chapter one

  chapter two

  chapter three

  chapter four

  chapter five

  chapter six

  chapter seven

  chapter eight

  chapter nine

  chapter ten

  chapter eleven

  chapter twelve

  chapter thirteen

  chapter fourteen

  chapter fifteen

  chapter sixteen

  chapter seventeen

  chapter eighteen

  chapter nineteen

  chapter twenty

  chapter twenty-one

  chapter twenty-two

  chapter twenty-three

  chapter twenty-four

  epilogue

  acknowledgements

  For my son and daughter

  You need to know with every fiber of who you are that when you walk through the front door of your home, you are safe, and you are loved.

  The rain falls hard as I drive back home. I’m a goddamn mess, and I can’t get my head to stop tormenting me. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me or why this is happening. I couldn’t even force myself to come this time, and I was such a dick that I made her believe it was her fault. It was a shit thing to do, but I knew if I didn’t embarrass her, she would go open her mouth to all her friends.

  I pull up to my house and head inside. It’s dark as I quietly make my way upstairs to my bedroom. Shutting my door, I lie down on my bed and stare at the fan on my ceiling making its rotations over and over. How is this my life?

  I’m so twisted that the only reason I wanted to fuck that girl was because I knew Tyler had. It was my sick way of connecting with him. I hate myself for doing what I did. I hate myself for so many reasons.

  I grew up in church, going to Sunday school and Bible study summer camps. I believe in God, and was taught that this way of life is wrong. It isn’t what He wants; it isn’t what I want, but at the same time . . . it is. This shouldn’t be happening to me. I’ve done all I can to force these thoughts and feelings away. I’ve pretty much screwed every girl in my graduating class at La Jolla High. Nothing is working though; in fact, it’s only making everything that much worse.

  Nobody knows. I’m not sure anyone will ever know. I’ve spent the last few years praying that this is just a phase, fighting the thoughts that skate around in my head. Pretending to be someone I’m not in an attempt to escape this sick person who lives inside of me.

  The only person I need right now—the only one who would listen and not judge me—is gone. I feel like God is punishing me for some reason. He took away the only one who could help me. The only one I could confide in. It’s been almost two years since Jacie died. She was in the car with her boyfriend on prom night when an overly tired truck driver hit them head-on and killed them. She was my best friend. Everyone even called us by the same name: Jase for Jason, and Jace for Jacie. We never went through any sibling rivalry and did everything together: exploding mud pies with firecrackers when we were little, and later, learning to surf. Surfing was our thing; we would always go out early on Saturday mornings and stop at the In-N-Out Burger on the way home. Mom and Dad still haven’t touched her room, and I’m not allowed to mention her name.

  I miss her.

  I miss everything about her, and now I need her more than ever. I need her to tell me it’s okay, that I’m okay.

  When I got my acceptance letter from the University of Washington the other week, I knew it was where I was going to go. I need to get the hell out of California and away from everything I know. I need to free my mind of the constant taunting. I just need to be free to find myself. To figure all this out. To understand why, when I was banging Carly tonight, all I could think about was Tyler. Fuck.

  I’m not a fag. That shit is sick, and it’s not me. I hate myself for even thinking that it could be. Just three more months before classes start at UW. August is when I will escape from here and finally get the headspace I need to work everything out.

  “Kimber, what’s taking you so long?”

  “Stop bitching. Just let me get my boots on, and I’ll be ready. Man, what has your panties in a twist?” she whines as she sits on the floor of her closet, zipping up her boots.

  “I’m going to say goodnight to Candace real quick. Hurry up, okay?”

  “Uuugh!” I hear her grunt as I walk down the hall to Candace’s room. When I open her door, she is sitting on her bed studying. Typical Candace. She’s focused and quiet, and she’s the sweetest girl I know. I love her more than anything. She was the first person I met and became friends with when I moved here to Seattle three years ago. We had an instant connection. In a way, she reminds me a lot of Jace in her sincerity. She made it easy for me to decide to open up to her about being gay, and she was the first person I ever told. She didn’t even think twice about it when I told her.

  “Hey, Jase,” she says as I walk into her room and sit down next to her.

  “You really should come out with us. This band is supposed to be really good.”

  “I have a lot of reading to do. Besides, I have to be at work by six tomorrow morning,” she tells me as she closes her books and slides them to the foot of the bed.

  “You know your excuses are lost on me, right?”

  She smiles, and I kiss her forehead before hugging her.

  “Stop molesting my roommate. I’m ready,” Kimber says loudly as she enters the room, flipping her bright blonde hair behind her shoulder.

  “You guys have fun. Call me tomorrow, Jase.”

  “Will do. See ya later.”

  When we arrive at Level One, the place is packed. Kimber and I head straight to the bar and waste no time downing a couple shots. The band playing tonight has brought in a large crowd. It’s the busiest I have ever seen this place.

  “They’re really good,” Kimber shouts over the music.

  Picking up the bottle of beer the bartender hands me, I nod my head and take a sip. Mark, the guy who plays guitar, is in a few of my classes; he’s an Architect major like me. We’ve never talked much, but he was the one who told me about this gig tonight. It’s hard to tell, but I get the sense that he’s gay too. I guess he’s a lot like me. Kimber and Candace told me that there’s no way they would’ve ever known unless I told them. But there’s something about Mark that makes me think I’m not wrong about my assumption.

  Kimber and I get comfortable at the bar and sit back to listen to the band play for a while. I met Kimber around the same time I met Candace. She’s a wild chick but fun as hell. I tend to go out more with Kimber, although we aren’t as close as I am with Candace. I don’t think many people have the connection that Candace and I
have.

  After a couple beers and a round of pool, we find ourselves back at the bar as the band takes a short break.

  “Jase, man, you made it,” I hear from behind me.

  Setting my beer down, I turn and Mark has sidled up next to me. “Yeah, I’ve been here before. Never knew you played here.”

  He nods at the bartender and then looks back at me. “Dude, we play everywhere we can get a decent gig. We’ve been here before, just not a lot.”

  The bartender hands him a bottle of beer, and I catch myself staring as he takes a long swig. His build is similar to mine, so I know he must hit the gym as often as I do by the way his sweaty shirt is clinging to him. Damn. I take another sip and look down the bar at Kimber, who is scoring a free drink from a loser who thinks he has a chance with her. I laugh and shake my head when I hear Mark ask, “You here by yourself?”

  “No, but she’s left me to sexually harass anyone she can,” I joke.

  “My type of girl.”

  Shit. I was wrong.

  After taking another gulp of his beer, he sets his bottle down and cocks his head before saying, “If I was into girls.”

  “No?” I ask for clarification.

  Turning to lean his back against the bar, he looks at the stage as he says, “Nah, man.”

  “Good to know,” I respond, and when he looks back at me, he gives a sexy side grin that lets me know he understood what I meant.

  “So, you sticking around?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. We have one more set for the night.” He turns around and calls for another beer. When he gets it, he looks my way. “I’ll catch you after?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nods before heading back to the stage to join the rest of the band that is already up there.

  Ever since I moved away from La Jolla and came to Seattle, I have been trying to figure out who I am. I was really confused before coming here, but after seeing the reaction from telling Candace and then Kimber, which was hardly even a reaction at all, I felt a huge boulder being lifted off my shoulders. Candace encouraged me to be myself and not hide while I was here. No one knew me, and it was a fresh start.

  Putting myself out there was difficult at first. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and always felt awkward. But I figure that is how most people are when they start dating, even straight people. Even though I screwed around a lot in high school, it was never what I really wanted. I barely felt anything, other than disgusted. I think I was more disgusted with myself for using all those girls. Now that I’m here, I’ve been more comfortable with myself. The misery that I used to feel back home isn’t so mind-consuming.

  I’ve casually been with a lot of guys but haven’t found myself in any serious relationship yet. I have been having fun and enjoying college life, not taking anything too seriously. But watching Mark on stage with his guitar slung low on his body, working the fret board, I wonder what it is about him that makes me want to keep my eyes fixed on him.

  “He’s fucking hot,” I hear Kimber say. I didn’t even know she had sat back down next to me; I’ve been so zoned out.

  “Who?”

  Rolling her eyes, she says, “Don’t be stupid. The guitarist you haven’t taken your eyes off of for the past five minutes.”

  “His name’s Mark.”

  “You know him?”

  “We have classes together,” I say as I turn my attention back to him.

  “Gay?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well that sucks,” she pouts, and I have to laugh at her.

  “Only for you,” I playfully tease.

  She nods her head as she continues to listen to the song they’re playing. They have a unique alternative sound and can clearly draw in a crowd. As they finish the song, Kimber turns to me while asking, “How much longer do you want to stay?”

  “A while. I told Mark I’d stay to the end of their set. Why?”

  “I’m a little tired. I think I’m just gonna grab a cab. It’s getting late.”

  “You sure?”

  Looking at me and smiling, she teases, “Yeah. I’m not gonna stick around and cock block you like you did me the other night.”

  “You’re full of shit,” I laugh as I shake my head at her.

  She smiles at me and gives me a hug before she heads out.

  About a half hour and several songs later, the band is packing up their equipment before the next one takes the stage. Walking over to me, Mark hands his guitar case to the bartender who sets it against the back wall and then hands him another beer. He introduces me to Chasten, the drummer, who comes over to say bye before he leaves with the rest of the guys.

  “So, are you from around here?” he asks.

  “California. I grew up near San Diego. What about you?”

  “I’m from Ohio. All my family is there. I just really needed a change of scenery, mostly people, so I came here.”

  Nodding my head, I tell him, “Sounds like me, man. You go home often?”

  “Try to. I have two younger sisters that I’m close with, so I like to get back there a few times a year to visit. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

  “A sister,” is all I say. Mentioning her always brings a burn to my tightening throat. So, I leave it and move on. “You guys are pretty good. How long have you been playing?”

  “We’ve played together for a couple years now.” He takes a swig of his beer and continues to talk about how the band got started and some of the gigs they have played.

  Talking with him is easy and we casually go back and forth, getting to know each other. I’ve never really noticed his green eyes until now, not that I’ve ever had the chance to. We’ve had some classes together for the past three years, but our paths never crossed enough to allow for more than just brief interactions, but he’s sexy as hell.

  After a while, we realize it’s getting late, so Mark grabs his guitar as we head out into the parking lot to leave. He walks over to his white Range Rover that is parked a few spaces away from my SUV. Following him, he slides his guitar into the back seat and turns to face me when I ask, “So, you got any plans this weekend?”

  Shutting the door and leaning against his car, he says, “No, not really.”

  “You wanna get a bite to eat tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Dinner?”

  “Eastlake?”

  I see a hint of a smirk when he says, “Sure.”

  God, I want to kiss him, but for some reason I’m hesitant, so I don’t. We exchange numbers and say goodnight before I turn to my car. When I hop in and turn the key, a pang of anticipation hits me, and I wonder what’s different about this guy that is sparking this eagerness in me.

  “So, who’s this guy you’re going out with tonight?” I ask Candace as she flops down on the couch next to me.

  “Kaleb. He used to work at the coffee shop a while ago. We ran into each other the other day.”

  “Hmm.”

  She tilts her head at me and asks, “What?”

  Candace is a serial dater. One date then she is done. She’s always been closed off with guys and never really cares enough to get to know them.

  “I don’t know why you even waste your time.” I try and soften my remark by reaching my arm around her and bringing her closer to me.

  “Honestly . . . I don’t know either.”

  Kissing the top of her head, I joke, “I think you just like free dinners.”

  We both laugh while we shift to lie down on the couch. I love this girl; I always have. I can share things with her that I never could with anyone else. She never judges.

  Our physical relationship has always been a part of who we are together. We often sleep in the same bed, and I honestly think I give her something she has always lacked in her life—affection. I’ve never met her parents, but from what she has told me, they are pretentious assholes and have always treated her like shit. Although she dates a lot, I know I’m the only man in her life that she allow
s this affection from.

  “What do you have going on tonight?” she mumbles with her head on my chest.

  “I’ve got a date myself.”

  “Really? With who?”

  “This guy named Mark. We’ve had a few classes together. He plays guitar in the band that Kimber and I went to go see last night.”

  “That’s hot,” she says with a giggle.

  “I know.”

  Just like Candace, I’m a serial dater too. Hookups are kinda my thing. I’ve never even brought a guy around Candace. It’s one thing for her to know I’m gay, but I feel weird having her see me that way. I know this is who I am, but in a way, I still don’t think I’ve completely accepted it.

  “So what are you guys doing?”

  “Just grabbing a bite at Eastlake,” I say.

  Shifting herself tightly against me, she laughs a little when she says, “So, tell me how hot he is.”

  “Hot enough that you’d take a second date with him if he were straight.” I turn into her before saying, “Now shut up, and let’s take a quick nap before you have to go.”

  “Fine,” she whines, and I lean down to give her a quick kiss on the head.

  Hopping out of the shower, I feel that pang of excitement again. I sling my towel around my waist and head into the kitchen to get a beer to try and settle what’s going on inside of me.

  I throw a little gel into my hair and grab a pair of jeans and an old UW t-shirt. I down the rest of my beer, take my keys, and head out towards the elevator. I shoot Candace a quick text.

  Call me when you get home tonight.

  It doesn’t take her long to reply.

  Okay. Have fun. I love you.

  Love you too.

  On the drive to the restaurant, I can’t get the images of Mark last night out of my head. Normally, I would have gone in for a kiss, but something about him made me nervous. I try not to think about it too much when I walk in and spot Mark already sitting at a table. I make my way over and take a seat.