Freeing

  After changing clothes and sliding into bed, Mark wraps his arm around me as I ask into the darkness, “Did you have fun today?”

  “Yeah, I did,” he responds softly. “Thanks for introducing me to your friends. Did you know them before coming to Seattle?”

  “No. I met Candace the first quarter I was here. We had a Gen. Ed. class together. I also had a Communications class with Kimber, but I never spoke to her until I found out she was Candace’s dorm mate.

  “So what’s her story?” he questions. “She seems so different from you and Candace.”

  Letting out a laugh, I tell him, “I don’t know where to begin with that chick. I’ve always found it odd that Candace is such good friends with her because they are so opposite.” I start laughing harder when I think back to our Communications class we had together freshman year. “Oh my God. You wouldn’t believe this speech she gave in that class we shared.”

  “What?” Mark chuckles as I try to control my own laughter.

  “We were assigned an informational presentation. We were free to choose our own topic, but we had to perform a demonstration. So she walks to the front of the class with a blow-up sex doll. No. Shit. Mark. Mouth open for a blowjob, big tits, sex doll!”

  He’s now laughing just as hard as I am. “Are you serious?”

  “No joke. She tried going for a sense of modesty by throwing one of her t-shirts over it. I swear, I was about to piss my pants when she laid that thing face down on the demonstration table and began giving that doll, with its ass all exposed, a thorough body massage. Everyone was cracking up, but she kept a straight face and proceeded as if she was giving some political speech.”

  “What did your professor say?”

  “Nothing. He just let her do her thing as if what she was doing was completely normal.”

  “Oh my God,” he says as we both lie there in my dark room and laugh together.

  “But that’s Kimber. She doesn’t care what people think about her, and she is totally unpredictable, whereas Candace is reserved, quiet for the most part, and extremely focused. The two of them are an odd combo.”

  “So how do you fit in to that?”

  Laughter aside, I roll over and lay my head on his chest. “I hang out with Kimber a lot, only because Candace rarely goes out, but we don’t have a deep friendship at all; more like buddies. It’s nothing close to what I have with Candace.”

  “I don’t think many people have that. You’re lucky.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper. “It’s a lot like what I had with my sister, well, except the physical stuff,” I joke. “But she gives me what Jace used to when I had her.”

  I pull my head back and look Mark in the eyes when he says, “Tell me something about her.”

  It’s always hard for me to talk about my sister, but I want to share her with him, so I take a hard swallow before I open up. “We were best friends. It was always like that with us. We did everything together. There was this one time, we were young, maybe ten or eleven,” I say and then pause when I feel the sadness well up in me along with the happiness. It’s a strange conflict of emotions that causes my throat to slightly constrict.

  Shifting and tucking my bent arm under the side of my head, I continue, “We had dug up a pail of mud down at the creek that ran through the back of our neighborhood. Jace thought it would be funny to make mud pies and blow them up with firecrackers on one of our neighbor’s front porch. The lady that lived there was always crabby, so needless to say, we didn’t like her that much. Jace found one of the leftover boxes of Black Cats from the Fourth of July, and we set those suckers off.” I start laughing at the memory. “That shit was so loud, and there was mud flying everywhere. That crotchety, old woman opened her front door and Jace and I ran as fast as we could, laughing our asses off.”

  “You guys sound like trouble,” Mark softly chuckles.

  “We really were.”

  “Did you guys get caught?”

  “Yeah. Our mom made us go over and clean up the mess. We had to use toothpicks to poke out the mud that slung into the window screen. It was a bitch of mess, but so worth it.” My smile fades when the sadness takes over. I hate that memories are all that I am left with. “I miss her,” I breathe out.

  Mark doesn’t speak, he just holds me tighter in his arms. I lie quiet for a while until I finally say, “But when I’m with Candace . . . she just makes it easier.”

  “I wish I could have met your sister.”

  Mark doesn’t say anything else and neither do I as we lie there holding each other. Sharing this part of myself with him is hard. It’s hard when I share it with Candace too. But it’s also nice, being able to talk about her. I don’t do it often, but she’s a big part of me, so giving that to Mark makes me feel closer to him. And I want that—the closeness.

  We spent the night wrapped up in each other’s arms, and it was the most intimate thing I have ever done with someone. I know I’m completely falling for this guy.

  Looking at him now, sleeping next to me, I lean over to kiss his bare shoulder. When I do, he begins to stir and wake up. I tangle my legs with his and pull him in tight.

  “Morning,” he grumbles with his eyes closed.

  I laugh and ask, “Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  I can tell this guy is not a morning person, so I give him time to wake up. I slip out of bed and go into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. While it’s brewing I pick up my phone that’s lying on the counter and see I have a missed text from Candace.

  Had fun last night. The three of us should hang out soon.

  I start typing out a response when I hear, “God, who are you texting this early?”

  I look up to see Mark as he strolls lazily into the kitchen and straight to me. “Just Candace,” I say as he wraps his arms around me. When he nips my jaw, I tell him, “Coffee’s ready.”

  “Oh, good.” He grabs one of the mugs I’ve already gotten down and pours his cup, drinking it black. “I’ve got to head out soon. There are some errands I need to run before my eleven o’clock class.”

  “Yeah, I have a ten o’clock Structures class.”

  We go sit on the couch, and I drape my arm over him as he leans into me, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. I love that he feels relaxed with being here.

  “So I was going to run by the Athletic Club to pay my deposit, if that’s cool with you.”

  “Yeah, that’ll work. We should meet up Wednesday morning. It’s my long workout, so I’m there for a couple of hours and then run after.”

  “Perfect. I don’t have any classes on Wednesdays, so I’m free.”

  We spend the next half hour lying around and finishing off the pot of coffee before Mark heads out. I have a full load of classes today, so I quickly take a shower and get cleaned up before driving up to campus.

  Walking into Candace’s bedroom, I hear the shower in the bathroom. Sitting at her desk, I decide to check my bank account to make sure the money from the bursar has been deposited. I’ve been able to get through college without help from my parents. I came here on an academic scholarship and have been able to qualify for several grants along the way.

  “What are you doing?” I hear Candace ask from behind me.

  Staring at the screen, I say, “Nothing really, just messing around. I just finished my last class and thought I’d come chill with you.”

  I turn around and see her putting on her underwear and bra. “You going somewhere?”

  “Yeah, there’s a party at Jack’s fraternity tonight, and he asked me to go.”

  I can see that there isn’t an ounce of happiness behind her words. “You sound thrilled.”

  “It’s just . . . I’m not into him aside from kissing. We have nothing in common, and I feel nothing towards him.”

  I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face. This is just like Candace.

  “This should not be a surprise to you, Jase,” she says with an eye roll.

  “Nope, no sur
prise at all. Typical Candace, devoid of all things emotional. Well, except for me.” I flash her a big smile and then turn back to the computer as she turns on her hair dryer. I shut the lid to the laptop when I finish up and walk over and sit on the edge of her bed. I watch her as she gets ready and when she turns to me, she questions, “What?”

  “Stay with me tonight. I can tell you don’t want to go out, so come to my place.”

  “I can’t. He’ll be here any second. Plus, I need to talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  “I just need to let him know that I don’t have time for dating or anything.”

  I laugh at her, and she smacks me on my arm. “I’m sorry, girl. You know I love you and all, but I don’t know why you even bothered with this one.”

  She sits down next to me and resigns, “God, I have no idea either.”

  “Call me when you get home.”

  The ringing of my phone wakes me up. I roll over, pluck it from my nightstand, and answer it, trying not to open my eyes in the process.

  “God, Candace. What time is it?” I complain.

  “Is this Jase Kenrick?” a woman, who’s clearly not Candace, asks. I hold the phone out for a second to see that it’s almost one in the morning.

  “Um, yeah. I’m Jase,” I say as I sit up.

  “My name is Allie Thompson. I’m a nurse here at Harborview Medical Center. Your name was given to me by Candace Parker.”

  Now, I’m awake. Wide awake. “God, is she okay?”

  “She arrived here by ambulance a little while ago and asked that I call you. She’s requested for you to come up here to be with her.”

  “What happened? Is she okay?” I ask again. My mind is racing with the worst, and I’m already out of bed grabbing my clothes.

  “They are about to take her to run some tests. Will you be able to bring her a change of clothes? If not, we have some scrubs she can change into.”

  What the fuck? “No, I’ll bring her clothes.” I don’t waste any more time and toss the phone on the bed, hanging up on the call. My heart is pounding. I have no clue what the hell is going on, but I throw on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. My hands are shaking as I’m fumbling to tie the laces to my running shoes.

  I find my backpack, dumping out my notebooks, and rush over to my dresser. Candace has clothes that have accumulated here over the past few years, so I grab a pair of her jeans and a shirt, along with some underwear.

  Slinging the backpack over my shoulder, I get my keys and don’t even bother with the elevator. I bolt down the stairs to the parking garage and jump into my SUV. I know I’m driving like a maniac, but I can’t get to the hospital fast enough. My mind is in overdrive, wondering if she got into a car wreck or something.

  When I finally make it to the hospital, I rush through the sliding doors into the ER. I don’t even wait for the lady sitting behind the desk to look up at me when I frantically ramble, “My friend, Candace . . . she’s here. Umm . . . Candace Parker. I got a call. A nurse called me a few minutes ago.”

  “Okay, hold on, sir. Let me call back there to see if they are ready for you.”

  I’m trying to control my breathing, but the pressure in my chest is making it nearly impossible. Time seems to stand still as I wait. I just want her to be okay. I need her to be okay.

  “Sir, Allie, one of her nurses, is on her way up to get you.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I say as I back away from the desk. I don’t sit down. I can’t. I’m too anxious, so I just stand and stare at the locked wooden doors that lead back to where I know she is.

  When the doors open, I see a nurse with short, blonde hair, wearing green scrubs. She talks to the lady at the desk then turns around and begins walking towards me, in what feels like slow motion, and the weight at the pit of my stomach becomes painful.

  “Are you Jase Kenrick?”

  “Yes. Please tell me what’s going on. What happened?”

  “Let’s go sit down, okay? She asked that I speak with you first.”

  I don’t respond; I just follow behind her as she walks me back into the ER and takes me to a small room with a couch and a couple of chairs.

  “Please, have a seat,” she says as she closes the door behind her. Fuck. Whatever this is, it has to be bad if I’m in here and not with her. God, I just want to be with her. I can’t even swallow; my throat has tightened so much.

  Sitting down next to me on the couch, she lays her hand on my knee, and I can’t do anything but stare into her green eyes that are filled with sadness. I know she’s trying to hide it, to be professional, but I can see it.

  “Your friend was brought here by ambulance,” she says softly. “There was an altercation. She’s fine. We haven’t found any major injuries at this time. She is pretty banged up though.” She takes a moment before continuing, “But . . . she was raped.”

  Everything tunnels: my hearing, my vision. My heart thuds. Hard. I drop my head in my hands, and the tears just spill out. Allie continues to talk, but I’ve already heard all my soul can handle at this point. This girl is my fuckin’ heart, and I’m terrified to see what’s left of it.

  I turn to look at the nurse when she hands me a tissue, but I don’t reach out to take it. I just look at her with no words.

  “I’m so sorry. You can utilize this room for as long as you need, but it’s not going to be good for her to see you so upset. You need to be strong for her right now.”

  I nod my head. She’s right. I’ve got to pull my shit together. I finally take the tissue from her hand. I could sit here and cry for the rest of my life if I allowed myself, but I need to see her. So that’s what I tell the nurse. “I need to see her.”

  “Okay then.” She stands up and leads me out of the room and down a corridor that is lined with private patient rooms. When we stop outside one of the rooms, she opens the door. I walk in to see my girl’s bloody, swollen face. I know I can’t hide my horror, and she falls apart, sobbing. Rushing over to her, I wrap my arms around her head as much as I can since she’s wearing a neck brace. I can’t stop kissing the top of her head and telling her that I love her. My tears fall effortlessly from my eyes and into her hair. I just keep repeating it over and over as her body jerks with her wails.

  She cries for a long time, but I never loosen my hold on her. I’ve never been so scared for anyone in my life. Candace is so strong and always keeps her emotions held tight. Hearing the pain that’s coming out of her is killing me.

  Her body begins to shudder as she starts to quiet down. I loosen my grip on her and scan her face. It’s covered in scratches, and the whole right side is swollen with a black eye. God, what happened?

  I pull a chair up next to the bed and sit down. Finally noticing that there’s another nurse in the room, I turn to her and ask, “What’s going on? Is she okay?” I hold Candace’s hand tightly in mine and when I shift my eyes to it, I’m nauseated when I see her brittle nails. It’s as if someone has been sawing at them. They are covered in dried, cracked blood and worn down. There are chunks of flesh under what’s left of a couple of her nails. I jerk my head back to the nurse, not able to look any longer.

  She asks Candace if she would be willing to go through a rape kit exam and she freaks out, snapping her head to me, saying, “No.”

  “Candace, I really think you should do it. I get that you’re scared right now, but maybe in a few days you might feel differently about this.” I turn to the nurse and ask, “If she does this exam, then what?”

  “If she decides to press charges, we will hand over the kit to the police. If not, we keep the kit here. If she changes her mind about prosecuting, then at that time, we will hand the kit over to the criminal lab.”

  I squeeze her hand and assure her, “I’m right here. I think you should do this, sweetie.”

  I watch as her eyes well with tears and then she slowly nods her head. I know she’s scared, but she’s strong.

  The doctor comes in, and they take her for a couple of scans
and x-rays while I wait in the room for her to return. When she leaves, I let go and cry. I try to get as much of it out as I can before she comes back and I have to shove all this pain back down. But I’m scared. I’m scared to know what this has done to her spirit. How will she ever heal from this?

  When she is brought back into the room, I am by her side and holding her hand that I still can’t look at. I can’t even imagine how hard she must have fought for her hands to look the way they do.

  The nurse talks to Candace about starting the rape kit then goes into the bathroom for a minute. When she returns, she looks at Candace and instructs, “Candace, I need for you to carefully remove all of your clothing, including your jewelry. I have laid down a large sheet of paper that is there to collect any evidence that may fall off of your clothes or body. Just stand on the paper while you undress, hand me each article of clothing as you remove it, and I will place each piece in a separate evidence bag. There is a hospital gown hanging on the door that you can change into.”

  I look down at her and ask, “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No. I don’t want to be alone.” She clings to me, and I see the fear and despondence in her eyes. I want to take it away, but I feel so helpless. I don’t know what to say to her, so I just help her off of the bed and walk her to the bathroom. She’s clutching a blanket to her and when she holds it out to hand to the nurse, I see she’s nearly naked. Her body is bloody and badly bruised. She begins to cry, and in a panic, turns around and asks where her pants are.

  “The EMTs collected them. We already have them,” the nurse tells her.

  Candace looks up at me, her whole body shaking, and I can barely get my voice out when I try to calm her and say, “It’s okay.”

  She slowly starts taking off the remnants of her ripped up clothing, which isn’t much. Candace is such a small girl—tiny—and although she’s strong as hell, there would have been no way she could’ve fought off the guy who did this. Fuck, who did this?