Free Spirit: Book Two of The Bound Spirit Series

by H. A. Wills

  I lose it on that one and start laughing so hard tears are running down my face, and it gets hard to breathe.

  “Ha ha. Yes, I’m hysterical,” she drawls, not nearly as amused as I am. “Can we get on with it? Gina is obsessed with you because you won’t feed from her anymore? Is that it?”

  The mere mention of the Witch Bitch sobers me. “That and I won’t fuck her.”

  “Wow. Seriously?” Callie fumes. “Just when I think it’s impossible to hate her more.”

  There’s something strangely charming that she’s equally mad about this. Some days it feels easier to name the people I haven’t fooled around with, but she doesn’t bat an eye about any of it.

  “I’d been feeding from her for about a month and a half, and now, I understand how... difficult…” I falter, not sure what I’m trying to say.

  “Nolan, you don’t have to explain it to me,” she assures, squeezing my hand that’s migrated to her outer thigh when I wasn’t paying attention.

  “No, I want to,” I declare, adjusting her so I can wrap both of my arms around her waist. “It might sound dumb, but I haven’t talked about this to anyone. With the guys, all I have to do is mention her name and they see red. And it’s, I don’t know, nice?-- No, that’s not right.”

  “Cathartic?” she supplies.

  “Yeah that-- to finally talk about this shit.” I hug her tight, and I don’t know if it’s for her benefit or mine anymore.

  Callie drops her head back on my shoulder, and once again soothes me by running her fingers along the base of my neck. “You can tell me anything.”

  It’s been over two years since everything happened with Gina, but my feelings are so raw right now, it might as well have happened yesterday.

  “We’d been dating about two and half months, and because of the bite, over the clothes stuff wasn’t enough for her anymore. She wanted sex.” Words pour out of me like poison, while equal measures of shame and guilt eat away at my insides. “Vampires are very sexual creatures, but at fourteen, I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted… I don’t know. I just wanted to be normal for a little longer, I guess? To do all that dumb young love shit. Hold hands. Go to the movies. Make out. Crap like that.”

  “Nolan…” Callie murmurs, but I can’t seem to stop until I get it all out of me.

  “After a month of her getting more persistent… and accusing me of being gay when I kept telling her I wasn’t ready---” I snort, then ramble, “Considering I’m bi, she wasn’t completely wrong. It’s just my attraction to men had nothing to do with why I wouldn’t sleep with her.” My heart throbs in my chest, and I hold onto Callie tighter to hide the tremors in my hands. “Anyway, after a month of it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I should’ve broken up with her sooner, considering all the shit she pulled, but…”

  “Nolan,” she says my name louder, but I keep going.

  “So I broke up with her. I wasn’t nice about it either,” I seethe, gritting my teeth. “One night, her hands were all over me, feeling me up through my jeans, trying to unbuckle my belt, and it didn’t matter how much better straight from the vein tasted anymore. Her touch made my skin crawl. I pushed her off me. Told her to get the fuck out of my house, and that I never wanted to see her again.”

  I press my face to Callie’s hair, and she twists so she can wrap both her arms around my neck, making soft cooing sounds of comfort. The more I remember Gina’s desperate pawing, the tighter I want to hold Callie against me as if her sweet, gentle touch can replace the ugly memories.

  “Guys are supposed to always want it, right?” I sneer, staring blankly at the TV that’s gone to sleep and swallow heavily, as I push away the feeling of hundreds of phantom touches that now hold claim to my body.

  “Um, rumors spread that I was gay, but whatever,” I continue, clearing my throat. “Anyone that hassled me ended up sexually confused by the time we were done, and even more girls became interested in trying to prove one way or the other.” Shaking my head, a rueful chuckle falls from my lips. “Then I couldn’t keep bagged blood down. It took an embarrassing amount of time to figure out what happened.”

  “Oh, Nolan,” she utters, my name sounding sad and wounded on her tongue.

  My fingers slide up her back, digging into her flesh, because I’m having trouble breathing and she feels like the only thing holding me together. “I demanded she fix me. At first she played dumb, but eventually, she gave me the condition that if I got back with her… if I did whatever she asked of me, then she’d remove the spell. I nearly strangled her with my bare hands.”

  I grin, and I’m glad Callie can’t see it, because I know I look goddamn unhinged right now. “I’m no one’s victim, and I’m no one’s bitch. Told her she could go fuck herself, then I found the hottest varsity cheerleader-- she was a senior-- and fucked her brains out in the girls’ locker room. That’s when I found out I could still feed from the vein and keep it down.”

  Running my tongue along my teeth, I boast, “After that, my ‘hickies’ became a badge of honor. Every girl wanted one. The guys, on the other hand-- they wanted everything else… as long as no one found out.”

  Callie is quiet for nearly a minute, and I wonder what she thinks of me now, knowing I lost my virginity to spite my ex.

  “May I speak now?” she asks, with a whole lot of different emotions in her voice, though anger seems to be taking center stage.

  I swallow heavily, worried that I screwed something up, and I should have kept it simple, leaving the uglier details to myself.

  “Yes,” I rasp.

  She struggles to get up, and I’m sure I’ve managed to disgust her to the point that even the pull of my bite isn’t strong enough for her to want to be near me. Instead, she straddles me again, and I’m really grateful for the pillow in my lap. Also, confused as hell.

  Callie firmly clasps my face between her hands, so I have no choice but to look at her. “This is not your fault,” she insists, her eyes blazing like molten silver.

  “I didn’t say…” I start, but she shakes her head.

  “Nope. My turn to talk. You listen,” she commands sternly-- and it’s kind of sexy. “They have a name for what Gina did. It’s called sexual assault.”

  “What? No. It wasn’t like that,” I sputter. “I told you, I’m not a victim. I wasn’t raped.”

  “If some guy tried to stick their hand down my pants when I didn’t want them to, what would you call it?” she growls, looking more and more pissed off.

  The mere idea of it has the predator inside me crawling to the surface. “Dead. I’d call him dead.”

  “Ugh, forget it,” she groans, her hands tightening on the sides of my head. “Point is, what Gina did to you wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for it because you fed from her. Just because your bite makes people hot and bothered, doesn’t mean you have to have sex with them, or get them off, or whatever. Masturbation is a thing, and I’m sure by that point, Gina had more than figured out how.”

  My face hurts from trying not to laugh at that last bit. She, however, is not as amused, nor finished.

  “This is why you keep picking up someone new every week? You’re afraid if you’re with one person too long, they’ll get addicted, and you’ll have created another Gina.” Her eyes narrow and she leans in, her face getting real close to kissing distance again. “This is why you hate feeding from your friends, too, isn’t it? You’re worried we’ll get addicted.”

  I don’t know how to answer her, because I don’t understand why I do anything anymore. All I know is if I pick someone up, we hook up, I get what I need and leave them satisfied, then life stays simple. They don’t expect more from me, and I don’t end up with another lunatic who has consent issues.

  “Nolan,” she whispers, with glassy eyes and a furrowed brow, “I’m truly sorry for what I did…”

  “I swear to God, Callie,” I groan, pressing my forehead against hers. “If you apologize one more time, I’m going to kiss you so hard you won’t reme
mber your own damn name.”

  “Ummm…” she stutters, blinking rapidly like she’s short-circuited. Her hands drop from my face to lightly pat at my shoulders, seeming unsure where she’s allowed to place them.

  A sly smirk pulls at my lips when I lean back into the couch and notice the beautiful blush that’s spread across her cheeks. I tuck some of her wild strands behind her ear, then run my fingers down her arms until my hands overlap hers. Slowly, I lift her hand and press a soft kiss to her palm, then while looking into her eyes, I turn and kiss the other.

  Her eyes widen, lips part, and her breathing becomes uneven.

  “It’s not that I didn’t like kissing you. I did,” I purr, placing her hands on my bare chest. “It’s that I never want to do anything with you that you’re not one hundred percent on board with, which you can’t really consent to if you’re hopped up on vampire bite.” There’s an uncomfortable weight in my stomach when I force myself to say the other half. “And you and me… let’s just say, I make a better friend than anything else.”

  Callie nods, biting her lip, and I swear, I’m one doe-eyed look away from forgetting all I just said and kissing the crap out of her again.

  “Thanks, I think,” she replies, her expression shifting from, as she put it, ‘hot and bothered’ to contemplative. “Honestly, I’m still figuring out the friend thing. What’s okay and what isn’t, you know?”

  Part of me doesn’t appreciate how easy it was for her to want to just be friends, and I don’t know if it’s my pride or something deeper. I’ve never tried to friend-zone myself before.

  Her gaze drops to her hands then to her legs that are on either side of my thighs. “This is probably pushing the friend line, isn’t it?”

  I shake my head, chuckling. “There are no rules, love. As long as you’re comfortable and I’m comfortable, that’s all that matters.”

  Her nose scrunches up, and she makes a playful pout. “I was really hoping for a manual to this kind of stuff.”

  Grinning, I give her an over the top hug, which elicits wheezing cough sounds while muttering she still needs air to breathe. I sloppily kiss the top of her head, then pull back, my hands holding her shoulders.

  “How about you lie down on the couch?” I suggest, my thumbs grazing over her collarbones. “I have the blanket here from last time. You can snuggle up with it, put your head on my lap again, and we can watch a movie. You know, like I told my parents we were doing.”

  Callie giggles. “Sounds like a good idea.”

  I keep my face as neutral as possible when she climbs off my lap, once again eternally grateful to throw pillows.

  To get more comfortable, she takes off her boots and socks before lying down. I tuck the blanket from the back of the couch around her and fan her hair across my lap.

  “Nolan,” she murmurs, looking up at me.

  “Yes?” I answer with a teasing smile.

  “Promise me something?” she requests, reaching out from under the blanket to hold my right hand and lacing our fingers together. “If you choose not to… feed from me, do it because you don’t want to, not to try and protect me. I’m responsible for me, not you.”

  I sigh. “Only if you promise me something. If it ever becomes too much for you, you tell me and we stop. Don’t keep doing it because you feel obligated to help me, okay?”

  “I agree to your terms, sir,” she answers with a smile, then gives our joined hands an exaggerated shake.

  “Good, now what do you want to watch?”

  She shrugs, oh so helpfully. “I pretty much haven’t seen anything that’s been released in the past two and half years, so anything’s good with me.”

  I flip through the varying menus of different streaming services, trying to find something that isn’t sexy in any way and uses little brain power. Animated movie starring a fox and a rabbit. This should work. “Zootopia it is.”

  ∞∞∞

  Callie falls asleep again, and I’m beginning to wonder if she’ll ever see the end of a movie.

  I’m at the part where it’s revealed the lamb was behind the whole thing, and I’ve managed to get her hair back to untangled soft waves when Callie jerks to her back. Suddenly, her body bows, muscles straining, and her hands fist at her sides like she can’t move them. She fights against her invisible restraints, and her face contorts into a vision of intense pain. Quiet mewling sounds of agony resonate from her throat, and the sound cuts right through me. Holy shit!

  “Callie!” I yell, wrapping my arms around her, and attempt to shake her awake. “Callie, you need to wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

  Her mouth opens wide like she’s screaming, but only muted, breathy gasps come out. She thrashes in my embrace, and I’m terrified she’ll fall into a catatonic state again.

  “Callie,” I beg, fear ringing in my ears. “I really need you to wake up. Please, love.”

  I give her another hard shake, and she cries out as she jolts awake, slamming into my shoulder when she sits up. Coughing and choking, her gaze cuts frantically around the room, and her whole body is trembling.

  Placing my hand on her cheek, I gently turn her head so she’s looking at me. Her skin is cold as ice, tears drip down her face, and her eyes are wild and unseeing.

  “Love,” I whisper softly, “focus on me. You’re safe. It was a nightmare. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  She blinks rapidly, the fog of her horror beginning to lift from her features. “Nolan?” she croaks.

  “Yes, it’s me,” I answer, my thumb wiping away at her tears. “Can you tell me where you are?”

  She frowns. “Um… I’m at your house?”

  “What city?”

  “Tw… Twin Cedar, um, Pass,” she stammers but looks like she’s fully coming back to herself, which leads to an embarrassed groan. “Crap. I’m so sorry you saw that.”

  A somewhat hysterical laugh falls from my lips, and I gather her into a tight embrace. “You really need to stop apologizing when you haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I know, it’s just… I bet it’s awful to see,” she mumbles against my shoulder.

  “How often do you have nightmares?” I ask, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

  In a small voice, she utters, “Every night.”

  “Seriously?” I blurt, rocking her gently side to side. “You said you got them, but not that they happened every night.”

  She sniffs, her face pressed against my shoulder, and I feel her words against my skin as she murmurs, “Saturday night-- when you all stayed over-- it was the first night in years I slept... peacefully, I guess is the best word for it, through the night. At least you woke me up. The real bad nights are when I don’t, and I’m stuck.”

  A violent shiver runs through her, and her fresh tears drip down my chest.

  “Do you…” I hesitate. Shit, this is probably a bad idea. “Um, do you want to stay here for the night-- with me? That way I can wake you up if you’re having another nightmare.”

  She nods, and I release a pent-up breath.

  “Why don’t you text your aunt that you’re staying here, while I set up something on the TV for Felix when he shows up?” I suggest, really praying this doesn’t bite me in the ass.

  She nods again, pulling away to wipe at her eyes. “Right, yeah,” she sniffs again, her voice thick. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. One of us. Your shit is our shit. Yadda yadda yadda,” I reply, badly quoting Donovan and offering up a smile that feels forced on my face, but hopefully makes her feel better. “What do you think Felix would like to marathon?”

  Callie gets up to dig through her backpack that’s next to the kitchenette table. Distractedly, she mentions, “A few years ago, I was in the hospital a lot. There was a show I liked to watch… Crap, what was it called?”

  Her casual drop of some of her awful past kicks me in the stomach. I want to ask for more, but it doesn’t feel like a good time. I want to make her feel better, not worse.

 
She snaps her fingers a few times. “It was on rerun. Kind of a crime procedural, only with weird science.”

  “Don’t know,” I tease, grabbing the remote to start the hunt.

  After texting Mildred, Callie walks back over and watches me flip through shows. “Fringe!” she exclaims, pointing at the screen. “That. Start that. He’ll love it.”

  I laugh, and set it up for autoplay, making sure all the settings don’t require any input until I shut it off in the morning.

  “Ready?” I ask, heading for the stairs, and watch her blanch. Right.

  She starts squaring her shoulders, getting that ‘just power through it’ look, and she’s had more than enough of that today.

  Shaking my head, I walk up to her. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

  “Why?” Suspicion narrows her eyes.

  “Because I’m carrying you up the stairs,” I answer, bending at the knees and hoisting her bridal style up in my arms. “You can be brave tomorrow.”

  She shrieks with surprise, scrambling to get her arms around my neck.

  “You’re safe,” I promise, approaching the stairs. “Now, close your eyes, and we’ll be at the top before you know it.”

  She bites her bottom lip, closes her eyes, and buries her face in my neck.

  And I’m not thinking about how great she feels in my arms right now.

  Callie is ridiculously light, and without any real effort, we’re up the stairs.

  “You can open your eyes,” I whisper, carefully dropping her back to her feet.

  She looks around the open space room that has more floor to ceiling windows and hardwood floors except for the giant, cream-colored rug in the center.

  “Nolan, why is your bed big enough to sleep a family of five?” she blurts, walking over to it.

  She runs her hand along the maroon comforter that had to be specially made-- along with the matching Italian sheets with an insane thread count. Sitting down on the edge of the bed with a little bounce, she digs her bare feet into the soft rug and turns on one of the bedside lamps.