Freeing (13 page)

Waking up, I notice Candace isn’t in bed with me. I blink a few times and can feel that my eyes are swollen from how upset I was earlier this morning. When I walk into the kitchen, I see Candace standing there watching the coffee pot percolate. I walk straight to her and cup her head in my hands. Looking down at her, all I say is, “I’m sorry.”

She nods her head, and I draw her in and just hold her. When the coffee is done brewing, we break our hold on one another and pour our mugs of coffee and sit on the couch.

“I didn’t mean to push you earlier this morning. I just don’t know what to do here.”

Cradling the mug in her hands, she whispers, “I know.”

She doesn’t look at me; she just stares down at the ribbons of steam drifting off of her coffee. I watch her for a minute before breaking the silence. “I think you should stay here until you’re ready to go back home.” I want her here more for my own peace of mind. I’m worried about her nightmares, and I want to make sure I’m with her when she sleeps.

As she takes a sip from her mug, she finally looks up at me. “All my stuff is at home. What if Kimber’s there?”

“How about we just drive over there, and you can get your car and come back here while I pack a bag for you? Just tell me what all you need, and I’ll get it.”

Letting out a sigh, she says, “Thanks. I think she might be in class this morning, so . . .”

“Go throw on some clothes and let’s just go then.”

I can tell she’s nervous when we start driving down her street, so I reach over and hold her hand, which is cold and clammy. She stares out the window, not looking at me, and quietly says, “He knows where I live, Jase.”

I turn to look at her, but she’s looking away. If I could keep her with me forever, I would, but I know I can’t. “He won’t hurt you,” I say, but I don’t even believe my own words. Will he? Would he be stupid enough to come to her house? My gut tells me that he will stay away, but what if he doesn’t? She doesn’t say anything, and I don’t either.

Candace is already on her way back to my apartment, and when I’m done packing her bags and leaving her house, I shoot her a text.

Got everything you asked for and more. On my way home.

Thank you so much. See you in a bit.

Walking into the apartment, I see Candace in the bathroom as I start unpacking her bags. When she comes into the room, she starts putting her things away and I sit on the bed and, watching her as she moves around. She seems so hollow when she used to be all smiles and laughs, so full of life. She has a pained look on her face, like she’s using all her strength not to cry. I wish she would; I wish I could make her—drain her of her misery—but I can’t. She’s so closed off.

“Stop,” she says, and I snap out of my thoughts.

“What?”

She comes over and sits down next to me on the bed. “Stop looking at me like that.”

I deflect her thoughts when I say, “You know Kimber’s going to flip when she comes home and sees that a bunch of your things are gone.”

“I know. What am I going to tell her?” she asks as she lies back on the bed.

I lie down with her and say, “We’ll figure it out.”

When the tears fall from her eyes, I reach down and hold her hand, squeezing tightly as I stare into her eyes. They are so swollen and bloodshot; I know they have to burn.

She curls up and rests her head on my chest. It isn’t long before I feel myself falling asleep.

“Oh my God,” I hear a man say, and I’m slowly pulled out of my sleep.

“What the hell happened to your face, honey?” I roll over at the sound of Mark’s voice. When I open my eyes and see him looking at us, I shoot up next to Candace, who is already sitting up and hiding her face in her hands.

Needing to get him out of the room, I say, “Um, hey. I’m sorry, but could you give us just a minute?”

Mark is staring, almost in horror, at Candace then turns to me. I know he can see the panic in my face because I feel it all throughout my body. “Yeah, man. Sure. I’ll just be in the other room.”

Mark turns and closes the door behind him.

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” she says as she hangs her head down.

“What for?”

“I don’t know. For having your boyfriend see us in bed together.”

“Don’t worry about it. I talk about you all the time. He knows how we are; it doesn’t bother him,” I tell her, trying to reassure her, but I’m freaking out because now I don’t know what to say to Mark. Come to think of it, I haven’t spoken to him since she’s been here. I haven’t even thought about it because I’ve been so consumed with her. But Mark and I are trying to make whatever we have going on right. “Candace, I don’t know what to do here. I just got back together with Mark, and I can’t lie to him.”

She looks up at me, and I see the worry etched across her face. She doesn’t speak; she just stares at me. I can tell she’s confused, but she eventually nods her head. I feel like I just asked too much of her, but I need her to do this for me, as selfish as it is. I need her to allow me to tell Mark the truth.

Lifting her chin with my finger, I assure her, “Mark would never say anything. He isn’t like that.”

She nods her head again as her face scrunches up in pain and she starts crying.

“Don’t cry,” I whisper as I wipe her tears, but they’re falling too fast for me.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

I band my arms around her. “I know you are, sweetie, but you shouldn’t be.”

I continue to hold her as her cries turn into wails. I rock her back and forth in an attempt to soothe her as she buries her head in my neck. The sounds coming out of her are so hard for me to hear, and I can’t keep the pain bottled up, so I cry as quietly as I can. I’ve haven’t cried like this—so painfully— since I lost Jace.

I manage to get myself under control as she continues to sob in my arms. She’s so loud. I can only imagine what Mark must be thinking. She’s been crying for nearly an hour when I look up and see Mark quietly walking across my room. My eyes follow him as he sits down next to Candace on the bed. Her arms tighten around me when Mark puts his hand on her back. I know she’s embarrassed, and I fuckin’ hate that. She clings to me and continues to cry as Mark and I stare at each other. He looks at me with questions written all over his face as I lay my cheek on top of her head.

When I feel Candace’s body going limp in my arms, I loosen my hold and look at her. She’s completely worn herself out. Mark slides off the bed and onto the floor in front of her, and she turns to look down at him. I watch him take her hand before he gently asks, “Who did this?”

I know she won’t speak. I know I’ll have to be the one to say it.
Fuck. I don’t want to say it.
It’s gonna kill her.

Mark’s eyes stay locked on her when I clear my throat to try and speak around the lump that’s lodged in it. “Um . . . Candace was attacked Monday night.”

When I say that, she lowers her elbows to her knees, hiding her face in her hands. I keep my hand on her back, and see Mark wrap his hands around her knees.

“What happened?” Mark asks.

Staring down at Candace, she starts shaking her head. I know I just need to say it. I shift my eyes to Mark, and he looks up at me with his brows knitted together. My face heats with tears, and I hate that Mark is seeing me like this, so I just say it.

I grip her shoulder tightly and let it out. “She was raped.”

Mark’s eyes close, and he huffs out a pained breath, dropping his head onto her lap as a new slew of sobs rip through Candace.

The three of us sit there and cling to each other. I hate seeing her so broken and wonder what the hell must be going through Mark’s head right now. I hate feeling so powerless. I hate everything about this.

Candace begins to quiet down, and she lifts her head, wiping her face with her hands.

“I won’t say anything, if you were worried about that,” Mark assures her.

“I’m so tired,” she responds.

“I told her she could stay here for a few days. She doesn’t want anyone to know, and if Kimber saw her face, she would question her.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Mark tells me, then looks at Candace and says, “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m here if you ever need me. I feel like I know you by how much Jase speaks of you. The both of us are always here for you.”

God, I can’t even describe what his words do to me. That he doesn’t even hesitate for a second. I didn’t realize how much I might actually need him because just having him here in the same room as me right now makes me feel like I have the support I’ve been missing to keep it together. I don’t know how this guy can do that for me, but he does.

Slinging my backpack on, I hate that I’m leaving her. I look at Candace curled up on my couch, wrapped in a blanket.

“I’m fine,” she tries to convince me as I walk over and kiss her head.

I can’t miss any more classes this week. It’s the first week of the quarter and it’s the week where we pick our projects for graduation, so I have to go.

“I have a break in between my classes, so I’ll come back here, okay?”

She nods her head at me as I turn to leave.

When I get to class, I see Mark sitting at a drafting table next to a window. I grab a stool and slide it beside him.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks as I sit down.

I still hate that Mark saw me crying yesterday; maybe it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. No one has ever seen me like that except for Candace, but now I feel like I have to hide everything I’m feeling from her. The last thing she needs is to worry about me, but I’m having reservations about letting Mark in.

“I’m good,” I lie, not knowing what else to say.

Cocking his head, I’m worried that he’s going to call my bullshit, but he doesn’t. “How’s Candace?”

“Not good,” I say. I keep my own feelings to myself and just talk to him about her. “She’s having these freaky nightmares at night, and I’m really worried about her.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s weird, man. It’s like she’s still dreaming, but her eyes are open. She says she feels like she’s hallucinating. She screams and cries and gets so worked up that she begins throwing up. It’s really bad.”

“What does she say?” he asks me.

“Not much. She doesn’t like to talk about it. She doesn’t talk about anything.”

Leaning his elbows on the drafting table, he looks over and says, “Maybe you could talk to her about getting on a sleeping aid or something. It might help relax her enough to get her into a deeper sleep so her dreams aren’t so vivid.”

I look at him and wonder how he knows about this.

Reading the curiosity on my face, he explains, “I used to have nightmares when I was in high school. I took Prazosin to help me sleep.”

I don’t question him about why he had nightmares; I just nod my head and say, “Yeah. I’ll try talking to her.”

He gives me a smile and opens his notebook when our professor walks in. It feels a little strange to be here, away from her, but it also feels nice to get a break and to see Mark. We spend the next ninety minutes discussing our final capstone projects for graduation. After class, I tell Mark that I need to go home and check on Candace before my next class.

“You mind if I tag along? I’m done for the day, so I can hang out with her while you’re in your next class.”

“You don’t have to.”

Looking over at me while we make our way through the quad, he says, “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

I nod my head and say, “Okay, I’ll drop you off at your car then.”

I am suddenly feeling a little self-conscious when he reaches down and takes my hand. I haven’t felt this way since I first came here three years ago and started being with guys, but that never felt like this. Serious. Intimate. Something about this makes me feel very aware of the people around me. My body tenses up, but Mark never says anything. He switches the subject, and I try to focus more on what he’s saying rather than what I’m feeling.

“So, the guys and I got booked to play a gig this Saturday,” he says.

“Oh yeah? Where at?”

“Blur. It’s a bar right off campus.”