by Chelle Bliss
I dedicate this book to the love of my life, B, the man that inspires me to write Kayden. I’m in love with you. I thank God every day that we found
each other and that you’re are mine. I love you.
♥
To my grandparents ~ thank you for always being there for me and showing me love. I adore you both, but sadly this is the only page you can read.
♥
To my brother ~ I love you. Thank you for your love, support, and never reading the books I’ve written.
I’m proud of the man you’ve become.
Thank you to Brenda Wright and Rebecca Barney for making my book as close to perfect as possible. Without you two lovely ladies I’d be lost. Brenda, thank you for listening to my rants throughout my writing process and cheering me on when I felt lost. Rebecca, thank you for swooping in at the last minute and helping finalize Kayden, you’re invaluable.
To my beta readers: Mandee Migliaccio, Deb Schultz of Rough Draft Book Blog, Kathy Coopmans of Panty Dropping Book Blog, Amanda Lanclos of Crazy Cajun Book Addicts, Skye Callahn, Christina Omar, Kelly Adkins, Maria Reyes, Stephanie Byrd, Amanda Davis, Wendy Shatwell of Bare Naked Words, Ronda Brimeyer, Shannon Ryan, Tonya Clark, Tonya Mabe, Krystyn Katsibubas, Nikita Alexis, Stephanie Powell, Erika Lynn, Verna McQueen of Verna Loves Books, Brenda Wright and Angie Johnson of Twinsie Talk Book Reviews, Tina Mason, Tracy McKay of Books, Coffee, and Wine, Melanie Lowery of Sassy Mum Book Blog, Joann Hohl of The Book Junkie, MaryAnn Litton from MA Book Review, Shannon White, Kathy Lee-Herbst of Abibliophobia, and Rachelle Marie -- without you ladies I’d go crazy and would’ve chewed my fingernails off.
To my readers, thank you for all your kind words and messages. I love each and every one of you. You’re friendship and support has meant the world to me. Thank you for giving me the courage to continue writing and for wanting to know more about Kayden. I hope he lives up to your dreams.
To my friend and writing buddy, Skye Callahan, thank you for keeping me on track and always being there to sprint. I couldn’t have stayed on track without you. I’m honored to call you a friend.
Thank you to Rachel Brookes for saving me at the final minute with my edits. You’re help solving the mysterious track issue in Word stopped me from having a meltdown.
Thank you to Joni Payne and Melissa Gill of Feisty Girls Book Blog for organizing my release blitz and first blog tour for Kayden. To Ing Cruz of As The Pages Turn, the one that gives a gentle fuck you, thank you for our ‘chats’ and planning a Kayden tour for me. I adore the hell out of you. Angie Stanton-Johnson and Brenda Wright of Twinsie Talk Book Blog for also organizing a tour and just being kick ass girls.
Last, but not least, to my girls - Tara and Dawn of Sizzling Pages and the amazing Kelly Adkins. Thank you for all your Voxer messages and making me laugh each day. You’re some sassy bitches and I love you for it - Vaginas United.
Kayden: The Past Copyright © 2013 Chelle Bliss
Published by Chelle Bliss
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be re-sold 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. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published: Chelle Bliss 2nd January 2014: [email protected]
Editing: Brenda Wright
Proof-reader: Rebecca Barney
Cover Design © Stephanie Mooney
Formatting by: Brenda Wright
Chapter Headers & Other Graphics: Canstockhttp://www.canstockphoto.com/
This book is intended for a mature audience.
Why?
I was an addict.
Sophia didn’t know this about me when we met – when I stole her heart.
I struggle every day with my sobriety, and Sophia is my compass. She’s what keeps me grounded and always points me in the right direction. She doesn’t nag or yell but smothers me in her love and understanding.
Sophia asked to hear my story, my past. She wanted to know everything about me…what led me to her. I gave her a condensed version – one that is closer to PG-13 compared to the NC-17 reality that I lived. No matter how much the person you love the most, the one who is the center of your universe asks about your past, you never give the full truth. I never want Sophia to compare herself to any of the women or experiences that I’ve had before her. Sophia is perfection in my eyes. No one could ever compare to her.
I’d like to say my life began again when I met Sophia, that I was given a clean slate. Sophia met me at the point in my life where I had given up on love. My life consisted of work and pleasure – pleasure from the unattached sexual relationships and the booze that had filled my nights.
When my life spiraled out of control, Sophia caught me in her web of security and love. She is my savior, the only thing that is true in my life. She can’t know my entire story. Who would want to know the true story of the love of their life, the father of their child?
The thought of Sophia being with another man makes my skin crawl and pisses me off. She’s mine, and I’d like to think that I’ve been the only man in her life and the first one to taste her, but I know I’m lying to myself. Ignorance is bliss, and I’d rather stay in the dark.
After our child was born, I thought it was necessary to get help to control my drinking. I needed to make sure I never walked down the path of self-destruction again. I had too much to lose. For the first time in my life, there was something more important than myself or even Sophia. There’s a tiny little life that depends on me and needs my love and adoration.
I didn’t want to go to group counseling – I’ve done that before, and it sucked; it wasn’t more than a temporary fix. I needed something to get to the root of my addiction and allow me to find other ways to cope with the pressures in life besides at the bottom of a bottle. The counselor told me to write down the major events in my life – the ones that caused my drinking to go out of control or drove me to drink. He said I needed to understand the cycle. What came first – the booze or the problems? He asked me to write a journal about my life. Everyone who I could remember that triggered my drinking, use of drugs, and events that were caused by my addiction that had an impact on my life. I didn’t see the use in writing it for someone else to read and analyze, but he said I would understand it in time.
Where do I start the tangled mess that was my life? Do I start with my first taste of booze, the first sniff of coke, or the crazy bitches I’ve experienced? There will be bits that I leave out; things I don’t want the world to know. I’ve included the ones that show what has molded me into the man I am today. The ones that will fill in the gaps on my troubled journey that Sophia and I overcame and show the depths of my depravity and addiction before Sophia walked into my life and turned my world upside down.
I’ll start at the beginning, what led me off the path of righteousness through my moment of self-destruction and finally salvation in the arms of a loving woman too good to be mine.
High School ~ Mindy
My high school years started with a bang. I had my
first drink before the start of my freshman year. My friends and I stole a bottle of Black Bull Whiskey from my parents and sat behind the garage gulping it down as quickly as possible. It was dusk, and lightning bugs were dotting the air in the large wooded backyard. We sat in a circle passing the bottle around, taking swigs, and trying not to cough from the burning in our throats.
The taste was strong, but the feeling it gave me was unforgettable. The lightheaded loopy feeling that was followed by uncontrollable laughter is a memory that will forever be burned in my mind. Our fun was interrupted by my mother’s voice. “Kayden Michaels, get in here, now.” Her usage of my full name made all the hairs on my body stand up.
Everyone scattered running back to their homes, leaving me to take the fall. I grabbed the bottle off the ground and walked towards the garbage cans hoping to discard the evidence. As my hand touched the lid, my mother’s fingers closed over my hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.
I stood there for a moment stuttering, trying to come up with a good excuse. My mind went blank as I looked in her eyes. She caught me red handed without a viable excuse or plausible deniability. I gave her an innocent smile, “I’m sorry, mom.” I had nothing else to say.
“Did you take that from the house?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” I said without thinking.
Her face grew red; the anger oozed off her skin like perspiration. “In the house, now,” she spat. My feet felt heavy, and my head swam with all of the ways I’d be punished. “Throw the bottle out first.”
I did as told, knowing I would have to be smarter in the future.
That night I was lectured for hours and hours. When my father came home, all hell broke loose. I got the belt that night along with being grounded for two weeks. Thankfully I still had a month left before school started; plenty of time to still have some fun and experience new things.
I bided my time and planned with my friends over the phone for the remaining days of summer vacation. I had a large group of friends, boys who had my back, except the moment my mom came screaming out of the house. We grew up in the same neighborhood spread out across a couple streets and we were thick as thieves. We built forts together as children, and now, our creativity was becoming a little more… delinquent. My boys were Ron, Scott, Freddie, and Tiny. There were more, but we were the core five. The five who were inseparable through grade school, but life changes and friends often fade away.
Scott was my best friend; he and I used to have sleep overs when we were kids. We loved Batman and all things super hero related, but our interests changed as we grew. Scott’s sister, Mindy, was hot as fuck. I used to go over there just to catch a glimpse of her, but she was a rotten bitch. She hated Scott and by relation, me. She always treated us like shit, but she still gave me a boner.
They planned a party for my release from the Michaels’ Prison Facility. Scott’s parents were going to be out of town, and luckily for us, it coincided with my freedom. The party wasn’t really for me, but I liked that they waited until the end of my solitary confinement to throw the damn thing. I would have climbed the fucking walls knowing they were partying their asses off while I sat in my bedroom and played Pong.
I put on my best pair of Z. Cavariccis with a black silk shirt and misted myself with Drakkar. I checked my hair making sure every hair was perfect. My brown hair was short in the front and long in the back; mullets were hot – who the fuck ever picked that hairstyle should be fucking shot. My face, thankfully, was pimple-free unlike some of the kids at school. My eyes were always my best feature – they were jade green, but changed depending on my clothes. The black shirt I picked helped my eyes stand out against my tanned skin.
“Where you going, Kayden?” I heard my father say from the living room as my hand touched the door knob.
“The guys and I are going roller skating, it’s a late skate,” I replied, closing my eyes waiting for a response. I needed a reason why I was dressed up. Going to hang with the boys or play sports wouldn’t match my clothing. We always went to the rink, and I knew my father wouldn’t question me any further.
“Midnight, Kayden. Don’t be late or you’ll get another week.” I knew it was pointless to argue.
“Okay,” I said as I opened the door and closed it behind me. I felt like I broke free from a long term jail sentence. Two weeks in the scheme of life is nothing, but when you’ve only lived about six hundred weeks total – it’s an eternity.
I inhaled the warm sticky air, pulling it into my lungs, and felt the gentle breeze on my skin. The weather would be changing soon, and the Ohio winter would grip us causing everyone to go into hibernation.
The gang assembled on the street corner waiting for me. Scotty lived a couple of streets over, and we travelled on foot together through the fields and cut through the backyards. The light of the house came into view through the trees and the music was a whisper in the air as we drew closer. We moved quicker not wanting to waste another minute.
I reached the door first, and it moved slightly with each beat of the bass. The sound of “Walk This Way” blared as I opened the front door and stepped inside. There were people everywhere, filling the stairway and all the rooms. We squeezed through the crowd to find Scott.
He was in the kitchen filling up glasses from a keg and handing them out with a smile on his face. We wrestled together in middle school and spent the summer working out together to get ready for the upcoming season.
Scott spotted us across the room. “Come on over here guys, grab a drink,” he said.
We grabbed our red plastic cups and made our way into the living room. There were so many girls; I didn’t know where to look first. I bumped into Mindy when I wasn’t paying attention, spilling my drink on her top. She shrieked when the cold liquid soaked her top, outlining her breasts.
“Damn, I’m so sorry, Mindy,” I said.
“Jackass,” she said as she walked away, she may have called me a jackass, but at least she acknowledged my existence.
The rest of the night I spent flirting with other girls and made out with one, but I pictured Mindy in my mind the entire time.
I didn’t drink too much; I couldn’t afford more time in the MPF. I left the party in time to return home by midnight and avoid any grilling or possibility of the smell of beer on my breath being discovered by my dad.
The house was dark when I walked inside; my parents were in their bedroom watching Johnny Carson and waiting to see if I made it home by midnight. I knocked on their door “I’m home, night.”
“Night, Kayden,” my mom said. She didn’t have to tell me, but I knew she was thankful that I wasn’t late. She didn’t want to hear my dad’s shit about my behavior lately. Crawling in bed, I grabbed my Walkman off the nightstand and pressed the play button. I lay in the darkness listening to “Livin’ on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi and thought about Mindy’s tits glistening through her wet t-shirt.
High school helped develop my love of women and alcohol. I wrestled and made the varsity team my sophomore year. I worked out like a man driven with a purpose—I wanted to be the leanest and most muscular guy on the mat. Being a member of the team made girls notice me more than they did previously. The singlet, the little tight uniform, I wore helped show off my manhood. I was a beast on the mat; my opponents knew I would take them down, but that never stopped them from trying. No one was faster or stronger in my weight class. I was the champ.
Sophomore and junior year, I found myself in trouble with the law more than once. We did dumb ass things that we thought were funny and harmless, but my parents didn’t see it that way. My first run in with the law came at the hands of my friends. A dare is something I could never ignore – no stupid teenage boy ever backs down no matter how stupid or risky.
We were walking back from a party across town when Freddie turns around, “I dare one of you to walk your drunken ass into the police station and ask them a random question.”
The alcohol
in my body must have altered my thinking because I took that challenge and didn’t think twice. “I’ll fucking do it,” I said as everyone came to a complete stop.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Tiny said. “You’re gonna get arrested.”
“I’m too smart to get caught; I’ll take the dare. You guys are pussies.”
I walked toward the police station door with wobbly legs and tried to figure out what I’d ask. My palms grew sweatier with every step. I squinted when the light streaming through the door shone on my face. I grabbed the handle, took a deep breath, and pulled it open with authority.
A man sat behind the front desk and looked up when he heard the door close behind me. “Can I help you, son?” he eyed me suspiciously. The town was so small and devoid of action that running a stop sign was a major offense and gossip worthy.
I leaned on the desk steadying myself, “What time is curfew?” I’d like to think that I was wittier than that or had some great line, but I drew a blank and concentrated more on not puking than the actual words falling from my lips.
“Have you been drinking?” he asked.
“No, sir. I just want-tid-to make sure I’m not out past curfew,” I said and belched. Fuck, what an idiot.
“It’s already past curfew, and you’ve obviously been drinking. I can smell the beer on your breath.” He stood up and walked around the desk and stood right in front of me. I didn’t make a move to leave, just stood there like my feet were super glued to the floor. “You’re not going anywhere, son. Come with me and we’ll decide what to do with you.”
“Do with me?” I asked.
“Yes, I’ll let my superior decide if we’re going to arrest you or just call your parents to pick you up.” Neither option was good. I was going to be in deep shit no matter the decision.
I followed him into an office and sat there. I knew the guys had split by now knowing nothing good came out of their little dare and my stupid ass needed to always be the one with the biggest balls. I sat there for what felt like eternity before the door to the office swung open, and my dad stood in the doorway looking like he had murder on his mind.
