Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Note fromthe Publisher
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
About the Author
Also by CaitlinRicci
A Silver Publishing Book
Marked by Grief
Copyright ©2012 by Caitlin Ricci
E-book ISBN: 9781614957539
First E-book Publication: September 2012 Cover design by LeeTiffin
Editor: Haley Stokes
All cover art and logo copyright ©2012 by Silver Publishing
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Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader, Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.
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Dedication
Welcome, readers, to mythird book. Thank youfor wantingto meet Kit and Jason. This storywas hard to write for a varietyofreasons, but it is one that I knew
had to get out there. And now that it has, I hope you enjoyit. Those ofyouthat were withme for the makingofthis story, thank youfor beingthere throughthe tears, the hope and allofthe other emotions that I know we went throughwiththis one. It was worthit.
I'mso fortunate to have myfamilyand friends withme. Hugs to youall.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners ofthe followingwordmarks mentioned inthis work offiction:
Bush :Individuals Goodridge, Robin; Parsons, David; Pulsford, Nigel; Rossdale, Gavin
Harvard:President and Fellows ofHarvard College Monty Python:Python(Monty) Pictures Ltd Nirvana:Nirvana LLC
Star Wars, Sith, Yoda:LucasfilmEntertainment CompanyLtd
Tiger Balm:Haw Par Corporation
Chapter 1
"Coming up in the six o'clock news—Wade Ramsey, the man sentenced to twenty-five years in the DUI and vehicular manslaughter case last week commits suicide in jail just days before he's scheduled to be transferred to prison… Up next, Rickie with what's new in Hollywood!"
Kit turned offthe televisionwithanangrysnarl. He supposed he should be happythe man responsible for his brother's death was dead.But he'd taken the coward's way out like Kit expected he might. While the court had been watching the prosecutor as he'd flashed images of Bear, finalizing his image as the "All-American Boy Next Door" in the minds of the jurors, Kit had been watching the man who had been too stupid to realize he'd been drunk that night. And he'd seen the regret in that haggard face. But Kit hadn't cared. He remembered being glad the man who had murdered his brother was suffering. Six months to the day of the accident, the sentence had been announced. The man would rot for twenty-five years. Bear was only twentyfour on the night they'd been hit from behind as they walked home. And Kit had held onto that anger, clutching it tightly to his chest, for six whole months. He'd breathed in the hatred, living on it when food lost all meaning, when sleep was just a nightmarish string of flashbacks. And he could have existed on it for years to come. Twenty-five to be precise. But the coward had stolenthat fromhimas well.
"Kit, honey, did you see on the news?" his mother called fromoutside his closed bedroomdoor.
Yeah, he'd seen the news, right in between the local food review and the entertainment section. News of his brother had been a big deal after the accident. Localboy killed by a drunk driver. High schoolfootball star hit by truck. And then the stories had faded. Once a day turned into once a week. And then maybe Bear would be given a few minutes during a slow period on Saturday mornings. Everyone knew the man was guilty. And those who had known Bear had already said goodbye to him months before at the funeral. But Kit wasn't ready to do that yet. He didn't want to let his best friend go so easily.
"Kit… c'mon, sweetie, talk to me please… it's been days. You need to come out of your room sometime…"
Why did he need to? Was the world ending? And even if it was, he'd do just fine sitting on his bed, surrounded by the few of his brother's things that his parents hadn't been able to pry from his fingers when they went on their mission to put Bear into boxes in the attic. Their therapist had said it was unhealthy for them to keep a shrine of Bear's old things in his otherwise empty room. Kit thought they could have left it up for a few more years. Five, at least. He might feel better about his brother's death after five good years. But probably not. The therapist was an ass. And Kit had told him so during the first session his parents had forced him to go to. He hadn't been back and hadn't seenanother either. He didn't need them.
"Kit, don't make me come inthere…"
He looked to the doorway, waiting for her to enter the space she hadn't bothered to in so many months. He used to be close to his parents. They all used to be close. His doorknob never rattled, never turned. And his mother never came inside. It was just as well. She'd barely looked at him since Bear's funeral. And Kit was almost glad ofit.
"I'm going over to Betty's for the afternoon. Your father will be home in a few hours. You should callJason. He might not know yet."The words faded as she walked downthe hallway.
Jason. Just the mention of his name was enough to make Kit shiver. He hadn't seen Bear's best friend since the funeral. He hadn't been in the courtroom during the week of the trial. And while his parents had wondered why he hadn't come, Kit hadn't. He wouldn't have been there either if he hadn't been required to speak as a witness. The photos, the expert testimony, the autopsy… it had all been too much. Too real. Kit spent each night of that week crying himself to sleep onlyto wake up and do it allover againthe next day.
Jason's presence would have made the ordeal much worse. Bear and Jason had been inseparable since middle school. Kit had been a skinny nine-yearold when Bear brought his new best friend home with him. Kit had begged to be included in their games until the boys finallyrelented and let himtagalong. Jasonhad always been there for themboth. The first time Kit had tried to hold hands with a girl, Jason had been there, cheering himon while Bear tried not to laugh. The only time Bear had ever skipped school was when
Jason broke his ankle in a motorcycle accident. Amonth later when Bear wanted his own bike, Jason talked him out of it. He'd bought a muscle car instead and the boys had crashed it less than a year later when Bear had gone too fast ona patchofice.
And at fourteen, Kit had realized he loved Jason. It was the only secret he'd ever kept from his brother, the only wedge he'd ever placed between them. He'd continued to go out with them, still attended parties, watched movies, had his first drink withthe two ofthem there to supervise. But Kit had known, all those years, that he loved his brother's best friend. And the feeling was still just as strong, even after six months of no contact. Before the accident, he couldn't go more thana day without hearing Jason's voice. He'd make up reasons to call the man or stay around when he knew Jason was coming over. On the rare occasions Kit couldn't get out of whatever obligation kept him from Jason's company, he'd ask his brother how he was doing and where they were going. He'd driven Bear nuts sometimes. But he was sure Bear never knew the real reason behind his actions, and so his secret was safe fromJason.
He stood up, his muscles aching frominactivity, and touched the picture ofthe three ofthemtaped to his mirror. Bear stood between his brother and his best friend, his grinning face taking up most of the photo as he leaned toward the camera, bringing the two of them with him. Jason was beside him, already sporting the first of his many tattoos. And on the other side of Bear was Kit, the smallest of the three and clearly already getting a sunburn as they spent the afternoon swimming in the river. That had been the summer before Bear left for Harvard to get his bachelor's degree on a full scholarship. The news had harped on that. Kit stroked the well-worn photo before taking a step back. His mom was right. Jason deserved to know, if he didn't already.
He heard his momleave, her car starting up with a soft purr before she drove away. Kit couldn't help the nervous flutter of anxiety at the idea of seeing Jason again. He was just a guy, just like any other guy, Kit reminded himself as he combed the messy locks of his hair. Only, he knew the truth. Jasonwasn't just any guy. He hadn't ever just been anything. And that thought had Kit clutching his stomach as he tried to hold back the bile that threatened to come up. He hadn't eaten today. Or yesterdayeither, as far as he could remember.
He should call Jason. He didn't actually have to go see him. Or a text would do just as well. Kit stopped before he reached for his phone. He didn't have Jason's number. He'd deleted it a week after the funeral when Jason hadn't called him. He realized now that the man would have no reason to call the kid brother of his dead best friend. But back then it'd been just another insult. Another knife carving his skin. Back then it'd felt like Jason had died too. And the rejection had beenjust too muchfor Kit to bear.
He pulled on a pair of jeans, hopefully clean, from a pile in the corner. They were too big on him whereas just last year they'd almost been tight. He'd be better off with a belt but he didn't own any. He chose his cleanest T-shirt and forced his feet into a pair of sneakers. He looked in the mirror, hating his reflection. Too long without sunlight had made his skin pale and sallow. He'd never really cared that much about his appearance but he'd never looked like a walking zombie before. Screw it. There wasn't anything that could be done about it now. And it wasn't like Jason would actually care what he looked like anyway. If he was evenat the tattoo shop anymore.
Kit walked right past his old sedanas he left the house. Instead ofgoingto the car he had once loved, he waited for the bus. He hadn't driven since the accident and had no intention of starting today. Discovering he'd forgotten his MP3 player, Kit started to go back for it but paused as the bus arrived, squeaking its brakes as it rumbled to a stop in front of him. The doors flew open wide and the driver leaned toward him, pushing up his cabbie hat inorder to see Kit better.
"Kit Gibson! Is that really you, son?" The driver's loud question attracted the attention of the people onthe crowded bus.
Kit ducked his head. Even if no one knew him, his last name would be pretty familiar to anyone who followed the local news. He could feel his cheeks growing warm and the sensation quickly spread to his ears. He took a step back, preparingto bolt back to his house and hide in the safety of his roomfor another six months.
But, he reminded himself, he was going to see Jason. He gulped down the fear and anxiety accompanying the thought. He'd always been the little brother tagging along. After today he'd have no reason to see Jason again. Sure, they'd say hi at the grocery store if they ran into each other. For a while at least. But then, eventually, they'd just be two strangers who happened to be at the deli at the same time. Jason would never again be the guy Kit had known growing up. That realization had him sucking down gulps of air as he struggled to blink back the tears stinginghis eyes.
"Hey, kid, youcomin'?"
Kit nodded. Jasonshould know the latest news, if he didn't already. Then Kit could say goodbye to his brother's best friend ofover ten years. The man Kit had beeninlove withfor six.
He took a breathand forced his feet to move.
"Christ, Kit, you need to eat something," the driver told himas he dropped what little change he had into the machine.
Kit forced a halfsmile and quicklyturned away. A man in the first seat got up as he approached. He normally would have protested that show of politeness. In fact, he was usually the first to offer up his seat to someone who needed it more than him. But today the isolation suited him just fine as he folded himself up in the seat and rested his forehead against the cold glass of the window pane. He heard the people whispering around him, making sure everyone around them knew who joined themon the bus. Kit slumped further down, wishinghe could be smaller thanhis nearlysixfeet so he could disappear. He wanted to turn around and yell at them to mind their own damn business. He kept quiet, the silence burninghis throat.
Kit watched the smiling faces of the people on the street as the bus zoomed past. He intentionally overlooked the guys who were on summer break. They'd be goingback to their college campuses ina few weeks. He'd be staying home. His parents had understood, at first, why he didn't go back for the spring semester. It had started just days after the funeral. But when he chose not to register for the fall semester they weren't nearly as supportive. His mom drifted away fromhim. It'd been inches at first, like not saying goodnight to him. Then it stretched into an entire day where she didn't come see him in his room at all. Some part of him hoped she would drag him into the sunshine again. But she never did. There had been days where Kit had heard her do little more than cry in their room down the hall. Other days she spent busily cleaning the house until it shined and her hands were raw and cracked at dinner. That was back whenhe had still gone downstairs to eat dinner with his parents. Back before the empty spot next to his chair really started to get to him.
His father had been just as bad at coping. He always worked late, but it was only after the accident that Kit started to notice. He left before Kit woke up in the morningand he didn't returnuntilwellafter dark. He worked Saturdays, too, like he was today. His parents fought over his schedule a few days ago, the argument endingwiththe slammingofthe front door and his father getting back into his car. He didn't come home before Kit fell asleep, sometime around midnight, and he was leavingas Kit woke up the next morning.
The bus wound through the busy streets to the heart of downtown. Kit unfolded himself as the bus approached the Bear Valley Tattoo and Piercing shop. The neon sign in the window proclaimed it was open, thoughhe saw no one standinginside.
Bear was named after the valley. Their hippie parents had decided to name their first child after the place he was conceived duringa campingtrip. Bear had always been embarrassed when his parents told the story to complete strangers. Now Kit would do almost anythingto hear stories about his brother again.
The bus came to a rumbling stop down the block fromthe shop and he and most of the others filed out onto the sunny sidewalk. He pushed his hands into his pockets, slumped his shoulders, and started making his way across the street. The whispers fol
lowed him even then, their hurried voices carried to him on the breeze. He ignored them, or at least tried the best he could, as he ducked into the shop.
The familiar sights and sounds of the shop hit him like an ice bath. He, Bear, and Jason had spent so many afternoons in the shop surrounded by the buzz of the tattoo machines and the smellof disinfectant that the absence fromthat familiarity had been a strange sort of loss. The shop hadn't changed in six months. He wasn't sure why he expected it to, but somehow he thought Bear's death would have made more of an impact on the world. That this place, where they had hung out most afternoons for years, hadn't changed at allafter his death just sent that message home even more. His brother's death only mattered to him it seemed. And Jasonprobablywouldn't care about the news anyway.
He was turning to go when the man behind the counter spotted him. "Kit?"
Kit turned, seeing the familiar pity in Joe's eyes and hatingit. "I'mjust gonna—"
"Stay there," the man said as he got up. "Jason willwant to see you. He's in the back. Stay right there." The man quickly hurried to the back of the shop where the office was.
Kit stopped, frowning after the man. Had he been that easy to read? Apparently. He bit back a sigh and went to a new group of photos against a brightly painted blue wall. He and Bear had painted that wall a few months before Bear left for his first semester of college. Jason had sat back, drinking a soda and telling them what they were doing wrong. Kit smiled, rememberingthat dayand how happythey'd allbeen.
"The paint's peelingalready. Youtwo sucked at that,"a voice said frombehind him.
Kit whirled, his heart racing as he stared up into a face as familiar as his own. "Jason…" he whispered, gulped and then gulped again. He could barely breathe past the lump inhis throat.
* * * * Jason looked the younger man over, his heart clenching as his gaze met those green eyes. He quickly looked away, unable to keep the contact any longer. But what he saw as he took in the rest of Kit made him so angry he wanted to yell at the man for taking such poor care of himself. He'd lost an easy twenty pounds in six months, and he didn't have the extra weight to lose. Jason clenched his lips together to keep from saying something that would make the obviously nervous manbolt.
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