Clarity

  Clarity

  Copyright © 2014, Gabbie S. Duran

  First Edition: 2014

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by ©Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations

  Editing done by Edee M. Fallon, Mad Sparks Editing

  Interior book design and formatting by Champagne Formats

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the above author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short experts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely co-incidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked owners of various products and events referred in this work of fiction, which have been used without the permission of trademark companies. The publication or use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  Table of Contents

  OTHER BOOKS BY GABBIE S. DURAN

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  AUTHOR LINKS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  EXCERPTS

  THE ONE THING by BRIANA GAITAN

  THE ONE THING - CHAPTER ONE

  THE ONE THING - CHAPTER TWO

  THE WRONG WAY by CASEY HARVELL

  THE WRONG WAY - Dedication

  THE WRONG WAY - Prologue

  THE WRONG WAY - Chapter One

  THE WRONG WAY - About the Author

  Other books by Gabbie S. Duran

  Unspoken Memories

  Unspoken Promises

  Unspoken Endings

  With Me

  “COME ON TAYLOR, let’s go somewhere more interesting,” Josh whispers into my ear, already urging me away. I follow, thankful we are finally leaving. I’ve felt uncomfortable from the moment we arrived. As we walk away, I take one last glance over my shoulder, my eyes immediately catching the flames of the fire, wishing it farewell. For the past hour, the odor from the smoke has been unsettling my stomach, or it could just be the alcohol. Either way, I’d rather be anywhere but here. If it hadn’t been for Josh’s persistence I accompany him tonight, I’d most likely be at home alone.

  Leading me farther into the line of trees surrounding us, his hold around my waist tightens as he tugs me to follow along. The alcohol I’ve been drinking for the past hour has finally caught up to me and my walking is more of a stumble. Had it not been for his tight grip, I’d most likely be face down on the ground by now. The laughter and shouts of everyone we’ve left behind begin to slowly fade as we walk farther into the forest. I begin to grow apprehensive of leaving them behind the deeper we travel into the woods.

  “Josh, are you sure you know where we’re going? Wasn’t the car back that way?” I slur, looking over my shoulder in search of his car before stumbling over a branch and losing my balance. The alcohol is definitely impairing everything, including my speech.

  He stops in an open spot, and before I get a chance to ask why, his lips slam down onto mine as he urges me down to the ground. My alcohol infused mind has my head spinning, barely allowing me to register the reason why.

  “Josh, what are you doing?” I muster through our kiss while trying to push his heavy body off me. Ignoring me, his hands aggressively grasp at my breast through the fabric of my dress.

  “Josh,” I sternly repeat against his mouth, hoping he’ll stop, but he doesn’t budge or answer. Instead, he starts to run his hands inside my dress. The heat of his palms gliding against my ribcage is distracting, rousing a sensation I’m unfamiliar with.

  Suddenly, the absence of his hands has me believing he has come to his senses and has finally heard my plea, but I’m deceived when I hear the rattling of a zipper. I’m startled back to reality with the sound, comprehending his intentions as to why he’s brought me to such a remote location.

  I may never have had sex before, but I know enough to realize what he expects, and it’s not what I want in return.

  “Josh, stop. Get off me, please,” I repeat, trying once more to push him off me.

  I’m rendered speechless by his mouth. This time it’s not tender but forceful as his tongue moves inside my mouth. I’m now panicking, my pleas vibrating into his mouth as I shove at his chest. My urgent attempt to push him off is useless since Josh is so large. He’s your typical jock and keeps in shape, one of the reasons why I found him so attractive.

  The weight of his body keeps me trapped underneath him and my panic increases tenfold. The sound of my underwear ripping goes unheard due to my urgent whimpers pulsating in my ears. I let out an agonizing scream as he slams inside of me, no gentleness in his actions, pure purpose to get what he’s after—sex, and nothing less, his thrusting fueled by determination.

  “Stop,” I whimper one last time with the only breath I have left. He ignores my continuous pleas. Tears cascade down my cheeks as the pain intensifies. My will to struggle has diminished, the fight leaving me completely the moment he entered me and tore the walls of my virginity. What’s the use of fighting anymore? He’s taken what I’ve kept protected of myself, leaving no choice but to lie pinned to the ground, hoping it will be over soon, praying the pain will fade if I lie limp and willing. But most of all, I pray the earth will open beneath me and engulf me, taking me completely from this world.

  As the painful torture continues, one of my prayers is answered when he tosses his head back, letting out a piercing grunt as his rocking comes to a stop. His breathing is labored and drifting against my skin as he remains above me, leaving me feeling disgusted and ashamed of myself while I lie trapped underneath his wary form.

  Slowly, he removes his weight, leaving me sprawled out on the ground.

  “You going to get up?” The sound of Josh’s voice pulls me from the tragic haze I sent my mind to. The sound of his zipper is once again heard, causing me to empty the contents of my stomach. Josh’s laughter is heard above me, humiliating me, triggering more tears.

  With nothing left but bile, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and I will myself to stand, ignoring the protesting ache between my legs.

  “Come on, Taylor, I should get you home,” Josh unenthusiastically says while patting off his jeans. The thought that he has no concern for what has occurred adds to the disgust churning inside of me.

  I feel a stickiness dripping down my legs and the realization of what it most likely is causes my stomach to turn once more.

  Josh reaches for my hand, triggering me to swat it away, not wanting him to touch me anymore. Another chuckle echoes in the darkness before the crunching of his footsteps notifies me he’s walking away. Having no choice but to follow, my steps are enraged and unhurried all the way back to his car.

  The entire thirty-minute ride home I spend next to Josh in silence, my body aching from being taken on the forest floor. When we eventually pull up to the trailer park where I reside, he parks
directly in front of my trailer. As I’m about to open the car door to exit, he grabs onto my arm and I immediately tense from his touch.

  “Taylor, it wasn’t fair that you were holding out on me for so long,” he states, forcing me to turn and glare daggers at him. “It’s not a big deal, Taylor. It was just sex.”

  “Screw you, Josh,” I growl at him through clenched teeth.

  The hand on my arm tightens slightly, frightening me. “The way I see it, Taylor, you’re lucky I even fucked you. Do you really think you can do any better? You’re a nobody,” he remarks, glancing around at our surroundings. “You should be happy I even looked your way,” he scowls in my face before releasing my arm.

  Without hesitating, I exit his car and slam the door behind me, needing to put distance between the two of us.

  Entering the trailer I share with my mom, I find her sitting at the tiny table inside with a bottle of liquor in her hand. Rushing past her, I catch a glimpse of her drunken stupor on my way to my room. Her reason will most likely be she had another crappy day at the diner where she works. It’s been a constant excuse every night since I was a child.

  Reaching my room, I enclose myself in the solitude of my space. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I draw my legs up against my chest, straining with all my might not to cry as I recall the horrific memory of the night. I’ve already wasted enough tears.

  My mother’s footsteps can be heard as she makes her way towards my bedroom, stumbling into the wall along the way, reminding me of how I was not so long ago—another reminder of why I should feel ashamed. The door opens and her arched eyebrows are high as she stares at me.

  “What’s up with you?” she slurs, looking me up and down, her eyes stopping at my legs.

  “Did you finally get some?” she asks, a wide grin spreading across her face, pissing me off that she can’t even act like a real mother when I need one.

  “Get the fuck out and leave me alone,” I snap at her since she’s the only one here that I can take my anger out on.

  She shrugs her shoulders before saying, “Hopefully you’ll end up pregnant. It’d be one good thing for you. Easy money.”

  I didn’t think anyone could disgust me more than Josh had tonight, but I’m proven wrong.

  “Get. The. Fuck. Out!”

  This time my angry outburst works and she turns to walk away, slamming the door behind her. The tears finally fall as I ponder both their hurtful words as they keep repeating over and over in my mind. The stabbing pain of the realization that Josh may be right about me always being a nobody brew in my head.

  Up until the day he acknowledged me, nobody cared who I was. The day he asked me to help tutor him for science was the day I began to exist in the social world of our high school. Before that, I pretty much kept to myself, not really fitting in anywhere. I didn’t have a stable family. The only thing I had was enough brains to get me through my classes without failing. Now with school over, I’m back to where I started: a nobody in the small town where I grew up.

  I have a worthless mother, no family, or friends. I don’t even have money. But that doesn’t mean I’m stuck in this town forever. No, the minute I can get out of here, I will, and I’m never looking back.

  I HATE MORNINGS. Despise them. A morning person I am not. It’s why my roommate is currently shouting through the bathroom door.

  “Taylor, hurry up or we’re going to be late!” Katie screams, invading my last two minutes of nirvana. My forehead rests against the cold tile of the shower as I try to savor the steaming water running down my back for a couple more minutes. It doesn’t last long, though, as she’s already banging on the door a minute later.

  “Calm your tits, woman!” I throw back at her.

  Releasing an exasperated breath, I silently curse because it’s Monday. Why do the weekends have to be so damn short?

  You’re probably thinking I despise Mondays because of work, as most people do, but it’s far from the true reason. I actually love my job, but I repeat, I’m not a morning person. It usually takes a minimum of twenty ounces of caffeine to jump-start my mind, and even then, I’m still an unpleasant person. Add Mondays to the equation and you best keep a good distance if you don’t want your head chewed off. Somehow, after three years of living together, Katie still hasn’t learned, but it’s because she’s just as fearless of facing the dragon as I am. Give us a challenge and we take it head on, which is why she’s my best friend.

  We met in college five years ago when we argued over a question posed by the instructor. She declared both our answers to have valid points and were correct, but to this day I believe she was merely preventing world war three in her class. Eventually, the same instructor paired us up for a “hands on lab” that forced us to work as a team, one that hasn’t been separated since. Once we became acquainted with one another, we discovered how similar our personalities were—the only thing we had in common.

  Katie was raised with a loving mother and father, opposed to my never knowing who my father was and rarely seeing my mother. She lived in the same house with a white picket fence her entire life in a beautiful suburb of Chicago. I know because I’ve seen it. I, on the other hand, was raised in a trailer home that I swear was held up by the grace of God, and the only fence surrounding the trailer park was made of chain link, a far cry from the perfect dream I always wished for.

  “Taylor, if you don’t get out of there and get dressed in five minutes I swear to God I’m leaving you and you’ll have to hoof it to work this time,” she irritably yells through the door.

  Already done drying my body, I roll my eyes and wrap myself in a towel before opening the door to stare right into hazel eyes belonging to Katie. She’s petite with her five foot three frame compared to my five foot seven frame, but don’t let the lack of height deceive you. She’s a firecracker underneath.

  “You know, for someone who gets laid enough for the both of us, you sure don’t act like it,” I scowl, brushing past her while ignoring the eye roll she’s most likely giving me.

  Reaching my dresser, I pull out a pair of matching underwear and bra to put on then grab a set of scrubs from my closet next. An advantage to working as a physical therapist is that I don’t have to invest in my wardrobe, saving me a ton of money, which goes right back to my student loans I’m pretty sure I’m going to be paying off for the rest of my life at the rate that I’m going.

  I can feel the blaze of Katie’s glare as I dress. She’s upset because we’re running five minutes behind. Katie is OCD when it comes to time. She would rather be early than on time. To her, being on time isn’t acceptable, so since we’re running late today, I know she’s fuming. I’ve learned over time to ignore her. It may be the only solution other than declaring war against her, which would not guarantee any survivors.

  Turning around, I find her glowering at me with an arched brow.

  “There. Are you happy now? We can go,” I say, walking past her and into the living room to grab my purse and keys.

  “You know one of these days you’re going to be late and it’s going to bite you in the ass, and I’m not going to hesitate to tell you ‘I told you so,’ ” she reprimands on the way to the door.

  “I look forward to it,” I retort.

  Minutes later, we’re climbing into her car and on our way to work. Between the two of us, Katie will always be the chauffeur. She’s the one with the car and license. I don’t have either one. The last thing I want is to add the stress of a car payment I would not be able to afford, so what’s the point of getting a license?

  I was unlike Katie, who has had a car since the day she received her license. I learned to depend on public transportation from an early age. Luckily, I’m privileged enough Katie and I work together, so I am able to carpool with her to and from work.

  We did our residency together and were able to prove how well we worked as a team, so they decided to keep us both full-time after graduating.

  Thirty minutes after leaving our apartment,
we pull up to our employment building and I quickly exit the car, desperate for my liquid fuel. Katie despises coffee and the smell of it, so if I want to get my fix, I have to head to the local coffee shop or make do with what we have at work. Depending on who made it, it can be tolerable on most days, which is why my first destination is always the break room after reaching our floor.

  Waving goodbye, we split in different directions.

  Katie somehow always has a patient scheduled upon arriving. How she can tolerate dealing with people the moment she walks in still leaves me puzzled. Not me. I need at least an hour for the caffeine to kick in before I can face anyone. Otherwise, they will receive some form of silent treatment during the duration of their appointment.

  “Hey there, girl. How was your weekend?” Sarah’s bubbly voice says behind me as I’m pouring my coffee, taking a sip before I answer. “Oh, just the usual. Caught up on my sleep.” Which is exactly what I did.

  Sarah is also my co-worker—the only other person who I can call my friend. Katie and I are more experienced than her by two years, but she performs her job just as well, earning our respect early on.

  “I don’t know why you keep yourself cooped up inside all the time. Katie and I had a blast this weekend. You should’ve joined us.”

  “I had just as much fun sleeping.”

  Chuckling at my remark, she pours her own coffee while my mind drifts back to the particular details of Katie’s recap of her weekend. She’d been MIA the entire time with some random guy she hooked up with.

  “You really need to get out more,” Sarah scolds.

  Sarah’s cousin had her birthday party at a local club this past weekend, and of course party girl Katie jumped all over that. I, on the other hand, stayed home. Partying is not in my nature. I’m not that kind of girl. I’d rather stay home with my TV and bed, catching up on my crazy reality shows, as unrealistic as they are. If it weren’t for Katie’s random check-in texts, as ordered, I wouldn’t have known she was alive.

  Holding my hand up, I attempt to ward off a future lecture from Sarah. “Trust me, from the stories I heard from Katie, you two had enough fun for the three of us,” I answer before exiting the break room and heading straight for the office I share with Katie. I ignore the snicker heard behind me from Sarah.