Fissure Free, page 1

FISSURE FREE
SHARI J. RYAN
Booktrope Editions
Seattle, WA 2014
COPYRIGHT 2014 SHARI J. RYAN
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Edited by Katrina Mendolera
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
PRINT ISBN 978-1-62015-395-6
EPUB ISBN 978-1-62015-405-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014908881
Table of Contents
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
DEDICATION
PREFACE
CHAPTER ONE A NEW LIFE
CHAPTER TWO HAPPINESS LOVES MISERY’S COMPANY
CHAPTER THREE GHOSTS OF THE ASYLUM
CHAPTER FOUR THE TWISTED RIVER
CHAPTER FIVE TRUE STORY
CHAPTER SIX TRAUMATIC STRAIN
CHAPTER SEVEN SOCIAL SURVEILLANCE
CHAPTER EIGHT LIVING
CHAPTER NINE THE DARK PARTY
CHAPTER TEN TRUTH BEHOLDS THE BLACKNESS
CHAPTER ELEVEN FAMILY DINNER
CHAPTER TWELVE LOST IN A MIND OF MIRRORS
CHAPTER THIRTEEN SYNDICATED ALLIANCE
CHAPTER FOURTEEN FACING THE END
CHAPTER FIFTEEN WHEN ONE DOOR OPENS…
CHAPTER SIXTEEN LOST. FOUND. GONE.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN A NEW ENDING
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN JUST A VISIT
CHAPTER NINETEEN THE START OF THE BEGINNING
CHAPTER TWENTY UNTIL LIFE BECOMES SIMPLE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CROSSING THRESHOLDS
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO BEING OUT OF THE KNOW
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE BETTER LEFT IN THE DARK
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR WHAT WILL NOT BE-WILL BE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE WHEN TWO SIDES DON’T MATCH UP
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX THE NEWS
PREVIEW OF WHEN FULLY FUSED
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
MORE FROM SHARI RYAN AND BOOKTROPE
Dedicated to Al and Marcia, my incredible grandparents and the people I hope to live up to. Thank you for always believing in me. Love you, always.
PREFACE
THROUGHOUT MY LIFE, it has always seemed necessary to reach various landmarks in order to continue on whichever path I have chosen to take. Sometimes the milestones are places, sometimes they’re achieving particular goals, and sometimes it means getting a little beat down before getting back up.
I’m standing here clutching my stomach with one hand, waiting for a wave of sickness to pass, while my other hand is gripped around the source of my apprehension.
The past two years have brought us closer to this moment, and now watching him off in the distance, I can’t help but recall a time when we had no idea what our future would hold. Everything was new, surreal, and fit nicely inside of a little dream. If we had known what was to come, would we have continued running toward the unknown? Or would we have high-tailed it in a safer direction? It's hard to tell.
Our lives began to unfold shortly after we both left the institution, when we were hopeful for a new life no matter what that would mean. We were quick to learn that a new life isn’t as great as it may seem.
CHAPTER ONE
A NEW LIFE
CLASSICAL MUSIC SETS THE MOOD in this dimly lit, tiny restaurant we often find ourselves in. Since we don't have a kitchen to use, we’ve gotten to know the local eateries pretty well.
Regardless of our living situation, I still feel like a princess who has been rescued from a prison tower. I never imagined having the opportunity to escape my imprisoned life. Sometimes I have to remind myself how lucky I am to be away from it. When things change fast, it's easy to forget about what was left behind.
I twirl the last piece of spaghetti around my fork and look up to see the love emanating from Alex's crystal blue eyes. The look never changes. It's as if he can't get enough of me. On the other hand, it could be that he’s trying to take every part of me in now while he can. I'm not sure which, but it makes me feel loved.
I smile at him as I place the last bite in my mouth. Without a second passing after I've swallowed my food, Alex shoots his hand up in the air, waving over the waiter.
He finished his meal ten minutes ago, and he's been impatiently waiting for me to finish. His fingers are drumming against the table and his foot is tapping nervously against the floor.
"Are you okay?" I ask, reaching my hand out to him.
He slides his fingers in between mine and grips my hand. "Just ready to get out of here." He waves his hand at the waiter again.
The waiter notices Alex and runs over to the counter, fumbling around and ripping the top piece of paper off his order pad.
Alex places a handful of Euros over the bill and pushes his chair out with an assertive thrust. “Ready to go?” he asks.
I nod. “I’m not sure I'm in the same rush you are," I say. I can’t help but laugh at his odd behavior. "What palace will we be heading to tonight?” I nudge my shoulder into his side.
“It’s a surprise,” he says. “I think you’ll like where we’re going tonight.” He gives me an offbeat grin and pushes the restaurant door open, motioning me to hurry up.
I haven’t objected to where we’ve been any night, and I haven’t minded that we’ve been staying on floors and couches at various hostels for the past couple of months. The people at all of the locations have been so generous and hospitable. I can’t complain. Anything is better than the life I came from. I’m free from my parents and I'm not being drugged into a permanent state of consciousness. Life is perfect as far as I’m concerned.
Alex seems quieter than usual too. His lack of conversation, shoving food down his throat as if he hadn't eaten in days, and now speed walking down the street is making me question what he's up to.
I slide my hand out of his grip and latch my arm around his, pulling him in closer. I lean my cheek against his shoulder. “I give up,” I say. “What are we doing? Are we going somewhere?” I tug on his arm. “You've been acting strange all night. If you're trying to hide something from me, you're really bad at it.”
He purses his lips into a tight smile and kisses the top of my head. “Shh. I told you, it’s a surprise. You have to be patient.”
I roll my eyes and let out a sarcastic sigh. “How much further is this surprise?”
“Okay, Miss Impatient, we’re only a couple of blocks away,” he says.
The anticipation is building. I can’t imagine what we could be doing or where we could be going. We enter into a tiny narrow side street surrounded by half a dozen towering brick buildings. It looks like a community of apartments. My mind is wandering off in different directions. I can’t imagine who we would be visiting. We don’t know anyone here.
Alex leads me over to a large metal door adjacent to one of the buildings. He pulls it open and ushers me in. It looks like an old basement. It smells musty and feels damp. I’m not sure I like this.
We whisk around a few cement corners and enter a stairwell. Multiple flights of stairs later, we reach an exit door. Alex double-checks the floor number, seeming unsure of himself. He pushes the door open and pulls me into a corridor.
Red carpet and golden chevron striped wallpaper surrounds us, and the scent of potpourri aromatizes the air. It looks old and rustic, but beautiful.
Alex stops us in front of a wooden door at the end of the hall. The bronze plaque in the center has the number twenty-seven engraved on it. I look at him for clarification. He doesn’t look back.
“Are we visiting someone?”
He nods. His expression is uneasy and flustered. He shoves his hand into his pocket and retrieves a key.
A key?
He pushes the door open and pulls me into a room with no lights. I can’t see a thing. I grapple with his sleeve. He places his hand around my back and tugs his way out of my tight grip as a soft chuckle escapes his mouth.
“What’s so funny? What is this place?” I ask, wishing I could see in the unlit apartment.
He laughs again and flips a switch. Light illuminates the room surrounding us. I see four empty white walls, aged hardwood floors, and three large French windows. Shock encompasses me. I scan the place with my eyes, taking inventory for clues: a short hallway with two doors, a chandelier hanging over nothing, and a small kitchen partially blocked by a breakfast bar. An empty apartment. That’s what this is.
I turn back to him, seeking an explanation. “Are we in someone’s apartment?”
He wraps his fingers around my arm and pulls me in closer. His hand is trembling around my elbow and his breathing is short and quick. “Chloe,” he says. “This is our new place.” His eyes seek approval. “I’ve been nervous that you might not like it, but I couldn’t stand dragging you around to sleep in strange places every night.”
“Our pl
He twirls his finger around a loose strand of my hair. “Do you like it?” A smile inches across his lips.
My eyes widen and my hands clap over my mouth. “Are you serious?" I ask.
He laughs and relief fills his face. “I'm serious,” he says. “You're not mad I picked it out without you?" He places his hands over my shoulders and runs them up and down my arms. His eyes soften, but they’re still filled with worry.
"Mad?” I slap his arm. “It’s perfect.” I wrap my arms around him and fling my legs around his waist. “It’s a dream come true. Our own little place in the city,” I giggle. “Why would I ever be mad about this?” I trail my lips around his face, careful not to miss a spot.
He locks his arms around my back and rests his head on my shoulder. “Big relief,” he sighs.
I pull my head back. “You’re crazy if you thought I wouldn’t.”
An apartment in Paris with the love of my life? Or a guarded room at a mental institution? Tough choice.
“I’ve been anxious all day.” He places a soft kiss on the nape of my neck. “It will be a good holding place for us.” His words send me through a loop and drag my mind back to the precise place I was trying to keep it away from.
I release my legs from around his body and place my feet back on the ground. I take a couple of steps backward and shake my head in confusion. “What do you mean?” I press my hand into the side of my cheek. “I thought—or I was hoping…“
He grabs my hand and pulls me back in. “You were hoping this could be a permanent residence.” He places his finger under my chin, lifting my face. “You’re the one who wanted to go back and deal with things. Remember?”
I shrug my shoulders and let my focus fall toward the ground. The truth is, I don't know what I want. I want everything back at home to be okay, but I want this life too.
“I've been having so much fun here that I started to forget about what we did leave behind,” I say. “I hope we can fix everything when we go back home in a couple of weeks.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt, avoiding his normal response to this issue.
He drags his fingers through his hair and shakes his head with frustration. “We don't know how bad this situation is yet.” There it is, the same response I always get. It’s everything I already know. It doesn’t matter. “I don't want to make any permanent decisions right now. That's all,” he sighs. “I'm sorry, Chlo. I didn't mean to bring your mood down.” His hands slide down my back and rest over the waistband of my pants. “Can we forget the last five minutes?” he pouts. “Come back up here and kiss me." His lips mold into that crooked grin. He knows the affect it has over me. Damn him.
I wrap my arms back around his neck, bringing my lips close to his ear. “I’ll see what I can do.” I press my lips gingerly against his neck and release my arms. “So, where’s my bedroom?” I giggle. He groans.
"Down there." He points down the short hall. "I'll show you."
He pushes the door open and I expect to see four white walls with no furniture. However, this room is fully furnished: a king sized bed, mahogany furniture, a white plush area rug, and Parisian paintings cover the walls from top to bottom. My jaw drops open, surprised and in awe. The furniture isn’t what makes this room so unique though. The view is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The Eiffel Tower, sparkling and beaming with all its glory appears less than a mile from our apartment.
I spin back around to face him and place my hands against his chest. “When did you have time to do all of this?” I run to the window and fling open the French doors, welcoming the scent of fresh rain. “How did you manage to afford this place?” I lean over the side, looking at the street lined with bakeries and stores. “Do I even want to know?” I laugh.
He tries to inconspicuously pull a price tag from the hanging curtain. “I’ve had jobs here in the drift over the years and never really much of a reason to spend the money…until now.”
It’s a dream inside of a dream.
He pulls me around to face him. “Glad you like it,” he smiles.
I reach up and brush my lips against his cheek. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.” I pinch my lip between my teeth, noticing how he looks even more beautiful under the glow of the Eiffel Tower.
His eyes drift to my bitten lip. He clears his throat and takes a step back. “I think I’m ready to call it a night. Are you tired?” he asks.
Not really. I could stare at both of these views for the rest of the night. “I guess.”
He walks over to the bureau and pulls out a couple of the drawers. “I filled these up with the new clothes we just bought. I hope you don’t mind.”
He’s taken me to nearly every clothing store in the city. It’s almost as if he’s been trying to give me and show me everything I haven’t had in my life. I never had the opportunity to pick out my own clothes or wear anything that resembled a fashion trend from this century. Now I have enough clothes to fill my dreams for a lifetime.
I reach inside the top drawer and run my fingers over the folded clothes. “I was wondering where all of our clothes were being sent,” I grin. I continue to fumble through the drawers, searching for something to wear to bed.
My cheeks fill with warmth when I pull out a silky black nightshirt. I can see Alex trying to hide his excitement. I’m not doing as good of a job hiding my nerves. “I’ll be right back.”
I slip into the bathroom. Oh boy. Okay. This is it. Get a hold of yourself, Chloe. What am I saying? He’s probably not even thinking about that next step right now. It’s too soon. Maybe not. It’s been a year. Breathe. If it happens, it happens. If not, oh well. I change my clothes and pull in a deep breath before opening the bathroom door back up. It’s fine. I’m fine. He’s fine.
I walk out and immediately look for a distraction to give me some more time. The living room light is still on. I take another deep breath and flip the living room light switch off.
I turn back toward the bedroom and notice he’s already shut the light off in our room. Maybe he’s just really tired.
I reenter the room and see that it isn’t as dark as I had thought. The sparkling lights from the Eiffel tower reflect off the walls. My nerves ease as the glow pulls me back over to the window. I press my face up against the glass, hypnotized by the view. My mind never lets me down.
Two warm hands slide across my shoulders and down both arms. A rush of goosebumps cover my skin. “I thought you were going to sleep,” I say in a soft voice, holding my focus on the blinding lights.
“How can I sleep when you’re standing here looking as beautiful as you are?” He places his lips on my shoulder. “Sleep can wait.” The stubble on his chin electrifies the skin on my collarbone.
“It’s late.” He tugs on my arm. “Let’s go to bed.”
I turn around, frozen, staring into his glowing eyes, knowing that everything is right in the world. He moves in closer then lifts me into the cradle of his arms and walks me over to the bed. I’m lying here speechless and motionless in place as he climbs over me to his side of the bed.
He traces his fingertips down my arm. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
“Yeah. Why? I thought we were going to bed?” I’m not sure he’s buying that.
He leans over and slides his heavy arm around my waist. His lips trail kisses from my ear down my neck and over my shoulder. “Good night, beautiful.” His words tickle my skin.
“Good night!” I chirp.
Real smooth, Chloe. I’m such an idiot.
I lie in bed wide-awake for a while, pondering my thoughts, nerves, desires…and his. My mind is restless, but my body is pretty comfortable lying so close to his.
“Are you asleep?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“No.” His voice is deep and smoky. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just having trouble falling asleep.”
“Me too,” he says. “Hey Chlo?”
“Yeah?” I turn onto my side to face him.
He places his fingers on the side of my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek. The intense look in his eyes does something to me. A rush of warmth fills my face. His eyes—those eyes—they’re methodical as they drift down to my lips. He moves in closer, placing one hand behind my neck and the other on my hip. I can sense the desire growing within his grip as he leans in, letting his lips float over mine. Our noses brush against each other's, sliding into place as if they are the last two pieces of a puzzle. The mint on his breath cools my lips and sends chills up my spine. My pulse quickens with anticipation. Unable to restrain my urge, I close the gap between us, sucking every last bit of air out of the little amount of space left between us.











