Freeing Tuesday

Freeing Tuesday

Save Me Series, Book 2

Katheryn Kiden
 

Freeing Tuesday

Katheryn Kiden

Copyright © 2014 Katheryn Kiden

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.
 

~For Adam~

My brother, my best friend

I never thought I could miss you as much as I do.

Thank you for teaching me that I have strength enough to do anything.

Without you I wouldn’t be who I am today.

Tuesday

“We’re here today to celebrate the life of Alex James Irons.”

My eyes focus straight ahead of me. The black casket laughs and taunts me, telling me things I already know.

I’ll never be able to love someone without losing them.

I automatically drone out whatever the minister is saying by singing in my head. It’s the only way to keep myself from freaking out and running away. My tears stay pooled in my eyes; hidden behind the large black sunglasses I bought yesterday knowing this was going to happen.

Izzy slides off her chair and walks towards the casket her father now resides in. Her sniffling pulls my mind back to reality and I am reminded that I am not the only one hurting today.

She stops, pivots and runs back to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her tear stained cheeks break my heart.

Scooting down in front of her, I push her hair back behind her ear.

“I don’t want to go up there alone,” she whispers. I really don’t blame her because I don’t want to go up there alone either.

My fingers grip tighter against the rose in my hand. It’s identical to the one everyone else is holding, but they all mean something different to the person holding them.

Do you want me to walk up with you?” She nods and takes my hand as I stand up.

The weight of everything that has happened bears down on my shoulders and I feel like screaming. It’s not my fault that Alex died, but I can’t get it out of my head that nothing good ever happens when I am around. I have to remind myself to breathe with every step I take.

I watch Izzy drop her rose into the center of the casket before whispering that she loves him and running back to Abby and Jameson; leaving me here by myself.

My hand shakes as I lift my arm. My heart races and I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack at any second. I drop my arm back down by my side. I can’t do it. Just as I’m about to turn back around I feel a warm hand slide into mine.

My eyes drop to the fingers entwined with mine and I drag them up the tattooed arm they are attached to until I reach his face.
Evan
. I feel my eyebrows draw together as he gives me a sad smile, his eyes hiding behind a pair of aviators. He nudges me with his shoulder before leaning in so his lips are close to my ear. He opens his mouth to speak and the words he says cause my breath to catch in my chest.

“You’re not alone. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

I nod slowly and reach out to drop the flower. My fingers trail over the glossy surface as I press my palm into it. I say my goodbyes silently and pray that he knew how I really felt. Evan drops his own rose and turns to walk back to my spot with me. His fingers tighten around mine and with him there holding on to me, I feel strong. I know sooner or later, I’ll be ok.

Evan

I show up late and try to make my entrance as stealthy as possible, but I stand out no matter what. I'm not in a suit like everyone else; my tattoos show because the nicest shirt I own is a short sleeve, black button down. It’s hard to be stealthy when you look like me. If it isn’t my size, it’s my ink and I usually don’t care, but today, I do.

Today, I hate myself for being late. My eleven o’clock appointment ran long and I didn’t get to the cemetery until Alex’s funeral was already half over. I parked my bike about a half a mile down the road, behind all the cars that were lined up for this, so I wouldn’t disturb anyone. That didn’t work out to my advantage. Everyone turns and looks at me as I walk up the hill.

Everyone except Tuesday. She is standing up alone and it looks like she is at war with herself. Her whole body trembles as she tries and fails to say goodbye to Alex.

I mouth an apology to Jameson as I walk by him and straight toward Tuesday. I don’t even know what I’m doing. The last time I saw her was when my niece Sophia was born. Before that, she had punched me in the face and told me I shouldn’t touch her because she didn’t want my crotch rot. Needless to say, we didn’t get off on the best foot.

I slide my hand into hers and her whole body tenses but stops shaking. She looks at me through her sunglasses and I can tell she is confused. When I tell her that I have her, she stops breathing but is finally able to finish what she was doing.

I stand beside her for the rest of the funeral. Her head rests against my shoulder and our fingers stay laced together. I hear Abby sob from my right and I turn to see Jameson having a rough time keeping it together.

When they lower the casket into the ground and the first shovel of dirt hits the top, Tuesday’s knees give out. I pull her into me and she wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face into my chest. My hands run over her smooth brown hair and down her back before wrapping around her and pulling her tighter against me.

“I’ve got you,” I promise again.
      

Tuesday

I have been gone for five years, eight months and seventeen days. I am alone even though I am not. I am a ghost even though I can be seen. I am a monster. I am a demon. But he, he is my devil.

He haunts me, scares me and makes me do things I never wanted to. I ran to escape him but I don’t know which is worse. Knowing where my devil is, or watching my shadow waiting for him to drag me back to hell.      

I hear the screams; the begging, the pleading. The sickening sound of the gun going off and then silence. Nothing hits my ears except my labored breathing and I am completely numb other than my rioting stomach.

I wish it would stop. I would do anything to make these memories go away. To be able to sleep through nights without waking up drenched in sweat because of nightmares of my past.

I cower in the corner of the room with my arms wrapped tightly around my legs, and pull them into my chest to bury my face into them. I’m vulnerable and broken and the only time I allow myself to act this way is when I am here and
only
when I am alone.

I feel my heart break, shatter really, into tiny pieces every day. There is no way to fix it and it’s not like it’s really worth it anyway. What is the point of trying to fix a person who can’t be repaired?

Things could have been different. I could have said no, gone to the police. I could have done a million things different.

There is a knock on my door that pulls me back to reality and I stand, shake my body out and try to get control of myself. I plaster on a fake smile and check the mirror just to make sure it at least looks like it reaches my eyes.

Pulling the door back, Evan winks at me before I let him in and eye the clock, noticing how late it is.

I pretend to yawn, acting like he just woke me up instead of interrupting my moment of hell.

“It’s after midnight. What do you want?”

“Well, I’m happy to see you too," sarcasm drips off his voice. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Sorry I wasn’t able to make it to any of the concerts but the shops been nonstop since you left.

I shrug, trying to seem indifferent to Evan showing up anywhere to see me. “It was only a few weeks. What, did you miss me or something?”

Evan growls and stomps toward me, puckering his lips. His arms wrap around me as he tries to plant his sloppy lips on my face. I wrench myself around, attempting to free myself from his grasp.

“Get those crotch rot infested lips out of here! I don’t know where that shit has been!” My laughter wins out over the scream it was meant to be.

It’s the first time in weeks that my laughter is actually real and I know that Evan is the reason. He can take me from feeling like I just took a stroll through hell, to feeling like I’m floating on a cloud and nothing can touch me. All with just a few words.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare the hell out of me.

Evan

I could tell the second Tuesday opened the door that
something was off. Her fake smile might fool some people, but not me. I know her inside and out, even if she doesn’t believe it.
 

She pushes my face away so I can’t kiss her cheek but I don’t stop trying. “It’s tongue day Monday, baby. Where do you
think
my mouth has been?”

Her eyes widen and she pries herself out of my arms. “You. Are. Disgusting!” Her hand wipes at the spots my lips landed but she’s still laughing.

The smile that she was faking is very much real now and I love the way it lights up her eyes. Even more than that, I love that it is because of me that it’s there.