Bound

  Bound

  Unleashed Series

  Book I

  Lee Taylor

  Firefly & Wisp Publishing

  2011

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright© Lee Taylor 2011

  Published by Firefly & Wisp Publishing

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or use of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of Firefly and Wisp Publishing, www.fireflyandwisp.com

  First Firefly & Wisp Publishing Printing 2011

  All the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. All work is from the imagination of the author.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9827062-1-3

  A record of the Library of Congress serial number can be acquired from the publisher.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I would not have been able to write Bound if not for my wife; the woman told me to write, she critiqued me, she scolded me, and she is always near if I want to argue about a potential plot. Katie, I adore you. To my friends and family who have shown me nothing but support. Bobby for your no-BS approach and your amazing people skills… Dave, I know I can work in a line about a whispering ferret somewhere. Rob S, your sheer, academic prowess helped me more than you know. Matt and Mark for your continued support; not to forget my Publishing Angel, Danielle. Without them, this story may never have been told, and for anyone else that I have missed, I totally <3 you.

  Dedication

  In memory of my good friends Luke and Joe, Luke who listened to me prattle on for hours about ideas and monsters, and Joe, who tolerated my sense of humour and spontaneity. Without them, Ursine may never have turned up. I am humbled to have known both of you.

  Chapter 1

  A lot can happen over the span of a couple of months. Before I regale you with all the details, let’s start from the beginning. It was the last class on the last day of the school semester, coming to the end of what was the biggest heat-wave in two decades. I was in a small, sweaty, dark room and could hear some of the other kids outside in Gym class laughing and screaming while they chased each other around in the sun, drenching each other with bottles of water. It was making me more restless than a kid with a sugar rush sitting in a dentist’s chair.

  Well anyway, I was stuck in my “awesome” English class; we were watching a movie based on a play by a decidedly odd-looking guy with a bald spot and a goatee who had written this play like five-hundred years ago. I resorted to pulling my hair out, just to count the strands out of boredom. So far, I was on twelve, and my head was freaking hurting.

  The classroom I sat in was bland enough, the only source of light was from the television's glare by the white board; it illuminated some of the assignments and inspirational posters that were dotted around the room on the walls. Flashes from the T.V. revealed to me glimpses of my classmate’s blank expressions; I could tell they were as “enthralled” as I was.

  Now, I may not have all the book smarts, but I know for a fact that if you’re going to be sat in a double helping of English after lunch, and you’re going to be watching a sad movie, then at least if you sit in the back you can get away with more. I was closest to the windows and as comfortable as I could be in the sweltering heat.

  I was pretty darn content with going to sleep where I sat until my pocket vibrated.

  So began my tactful mission of removing my phone from my pocket unnoticed. I could see at a glance that it was a message, so faking a yawn; I stretched and looked from side to side. It didn't look like anyone else was paying any attention to me.

  *Do u like me? I thnk ur hot!! Tb x* Okay, this message was somewhat childish; it was, for all intents, the same as passing a note. But, with the convenience of technology nowadays, it’s a direct text opposed to a string of giggly children.

  Back to my point, someone in my class thought that I was “hot”. I couldn’t quell the warm feeling from spreading through me as it pooled into my stomach; the mischievous grin was replaced with a smug one as a cacophony of butterflies fluttered around in my abdomen.

  Setting my phone down, I tried to casually peruse my class. My aim was to see if any of the girls I knew were on their phone messaging me. I know it was a long shot, but hey, I was feeling lucky.

  With my masterful skills of deduction, I glanced at a few of the girls who I occasionally hung out with; I then thought of those who had seemed nicer to me recently. I could only really think of one; Kimberly. From where I sat, I could see that she was leaning over her desk; maybe she was trying to hide her phone. Yeah, that was one potential clue. Oh, by the way, I call her a bungalow sometimes, as she can be a little ditzy. She totally plays up to it claiming she has nothing going on upstairs (like a bungalow). Kimberly was, for all intents and purposes, gorgeous; she had the looks. With long, effluent waves of golden hair, big, warm, brown eyes, and a smile that, I am pretty sure if put to test, could charm a raging bull.

  Kim and I had got on for a long time. Last week we were forced to hang out at the mall together. I say that, I actually mean her parents set us up on a play date, so to speak, and as soon as they left, she went off with some college guy. So I met up with my best friend Mike. Our parents have always tried pushing Kimberly and I together since we were kids. I think it’s because my dad owns a pharmaceutical company, and her dad is some C.O. at an insurance firm. She's all right as a friend, but I can't really see her as anything more. But by this time, I had begun convincing myself that Kim was my admirer, even though she had never seemed to like me any more than an acquaintance; there were no “Oh, Mr. Darcy” moments to speak of. I paused and flicked my phone open, punching a few numbers on the key pad. I thought it would be smarter if I replied before I forgot.

  *Yeah, I like me. Lol. who is dis? Kim?*

  I had a great view of Kim from where I sat; maybe I would be able to see her look over at me. I raised an eyebrow trying to look suave. In fact, I probably looked more like a creepy, heavy-mouth-breathing stalker. Still, there I sat staring at my alleged admirer. My phone's vibration again drew my attention. Eagerly, I clawed the phone open.

  *Lmao, no! x*

  The message stunned me.

  I was sent tumbling back to earth and felt slightly stupid, well more so. I was convinced that it was her, now looking like it wasn’t, meant that I had to face some other feelings; maybe I did like her more than I thought after all... Great, another pipe dream; this time it’s because I'm too young probably. A disheartened sigh escaped me. I recomposed myself and calmly reset my position. There was a silence that rung through the class as the movie was paused and a throat was being cleared.

  Aww balls! Feeling sheepish, I bashfully looked to the front of the class. Mr. Hendricks was standing defensively with his arms crossed and a bead of sweat slowly sliding down from his temple, his greying crop of hair frazzled from the humidity. He was frowning so hard that even his wrinkles had wrinkles. To be honest, he looked like a bulldog that had chewed on a lemon soaked bee. With the television remote in his hand, he nodded towards my desk. I still sat with my phone on display.

  “Well, Ursine, care to share what has you so... excited?” Mr. Hendricks was normally a cool guy; it made sense that with this heat wave, he'd get all irritable and become a dick...

  Crap. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to think of something to say that would let me save face. I thought that looking casual was my best option. So, slowly placing my hands on my desk, I stood up to talk and attempted to hide my phone at the same
time. My plan was inspired, so, scooping it slowly off the table, I sought to hide it on my seat without drawing attention to it. Of course, I failed miserably. The freaking phone bounced off the seat and hit the floor with a loud clap. I cringed in expectation.

  “I'm sorry, Mr. Hendricks. I was checking the time because, um I really needed to go to the washroom, but I didn't want to disturb the, uh, class... Hey now that the film’s stopped 'n' all; do you mind if I go... relieve myself?” I was amazed; it actually sounded plausible. With a slight snort, I scratched my head and fought back a grin.

  “No, Ursine, you cannot. I swear, if you put as much effort into your work as you do trying to get out of it, you would probably have better grades.” Mr. Hendricks held out his hand gesturing for the phone. “Now give me the phone and you can come and collect it at the end of class.” With a defeated sigh, I walked around my desk, slumping my shoulders unenthusiastically. I picked my phone up off the floor and walked up to the front of the room to hand it to him.

  “Now can I go to the wash room, sir?” I asked. Although I didn’t need to go, I figured that if I at least tried to make my story believable, it may make him less annoyed. I was, unfortunately, wrong; I guess I wasn’t any luckier today. Mr. Hendrick’s eyes narrowed.

  “Well, Ursine, if you just looked at the time, you could clearly see that you have ten minutes left of this lesson, where afterwards, in your own time, you are free to use the bathroom when you see fit. But seeing as summer vacation is yet to start and I hardly think your kidneys are in danger of erupting, I would advise you to sit down and have the common decency to pay attention!” Mr. Hendricks all but screamed. His voice shook the room and, with the already stale air, it made me feel like an infant. I really didn’t like that sensation. So I tried my best not to flip off the teacher or throw my god damned cell phone at him.

  With ten minutes to go until the class was over, I turned to look at my classmates. Well, aside from the few people giggling at me, there weren't a lot of other kids who seemed interested. There wasn’t a girl holding her phone up winking at me either. Did I mention that I freaking loved school?

  Retreating to my seat, I tried not to cause a further incident. So I adopted the sit and sulk position for the remaining minutes. When the bell finally rang, I dashed across the room to collect my cell phone; no more messages. With a disgruntled sigh, I chewed on my bottom lip, slightly agitated.

  “Typical,” I murmured to myself, feeling more deflated.

  “Have a good summer, Mr. Hendricks, and thanks for looking after my phone,” I said hurriedly as I ran to the classroom door. I stepped into the hallway where I waited for my best friend, Mike, to catch up. There was the usual hustle and bustle of any high school letting out for summer vacation; not quite to the point where everyone was synchronising their steps and showing off their “spirit-fingers”, but everyone sure did have a better place to be. Mine was waiting for my best friend.

  “Hey, man, I was like completely bummed that last lesson. That sicko, Monty, was actually trying to make us learn! All I need to know is a ten bag costs ten bucks, you know what I mean?” Mike was one of my only long-time friends. Most of the people in my school are unnerved around me; I don't really know why. Mike isn’t really fazed by much, probably because of all the dope he smokes. He claims it's because his parents made him a vegetarian early on, and so he's always grown up eating and smoking his greens. I can't stand the stuff, personally; it puts me to on edge. That can be bad... and very messy. Expensive, too! I just stood shaking my head disapprovingly at Mike; he always came out with a similar line whenever it was mathematically related.

  “Hey, man, what you think of my new hoody? I traded my violin for it at lunch. It’s awesome right?” Mike asked. He was always eerily cheery, too; completely infectious to be around. I stopped to look at my jitter friend. He stood with a grey Etnies hoody, his Hawaiian-print cargo shorts showing his bony knees and sandals. He looked like a real surfer jock even with his hazel coloured faux hawk and pierced lip and eyebrow. The only thing was... He was terrified of surfboards after an accident when he was a kid. He was boogie boarding on holiday in Florida, and a surfer who wasn't paying attention rode into him on a wave and split his face open. Mike stood in the water screaming in pain, and his dad was yelling for him to hurry and get out the water before the sharks came for him. Yeah I kind of understand why he would smoke so much. If I had those sorts of memories, I would probably want some memory loss, too. I think that was why he sometimes did reckless things. Trading his violin for a hoody was only the most recent. Mike sniffed, brushing his thumb off his nose. I still hadn’t spoken; I figured I would wait until he got it out of his system.

  “Hey, dude, why am I the only one talking here?” His blue eyes traversed the hallway. Slowly blinking, he looked at some of the students walking past to see if he were missing something. Scrutinizing each one as they strolled by, I could see that the strain was starting to make him dizzy.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking about who sent me this freaking message. It’s really annoying me.” Mike looked at my phone as I opened the message for him to see, pinching his eyes shut, he concentrated more intently.

  “Mike, even if you stare that hard at the screen, the name and number won't pop up.” I rolled my eyes taking the cell phone from his view. Helpfully, Mike scratched his head, clueless as to whom the texts could be from; a devious smile curled his lips as he thought of something else, probably unrelated, of course. I turned and gestured towards my locker, grabbing a few books and papers. Mike scurried away. Before his departure, he said that he would meet me at his car; he had to sort something out first. Clumsily, he paced on.

  When I eventually got to Mike's red, Toyota compact, he was busy thumbing through his C.D.'s.

  His car had a foul smell as the key part to its personality. I wasn’t just talking about its emissions; I meant it stank in general. It was like a cocktail of fast food and air freshener smothered on top of cigarette smoke that clung desperately to the car seats, making the unholy scent of grease, cheese, smoke and hints of pine forest served with sweat to fill the interior with its bodacious odour. I held my nose as I sat down; it always overpowered me at first.

  “Aww, Mike, clean your car. Man, it stinks like a public bus after a sweaty-nut fest. It’s just wrong.” Wrinkling my nose, I waved my hand in front my face to emphasize my point.

  “Si, you’re such a bitch! If you don't like it, why don't you get out and walk then, bro?” He chuckled at his comment. He wasn’t serious, but I was weighing the option of walking or getting a bus... The moment passed and I simply grinned in response, my eyes burned with the pungent odour.

  “Sweet, I found it! Dude, you have got to listen to this. I bet you haven't heard this song, in ages.” He put in his chosen disc and skipped the first few songs, putting on the Seatbelts, Ask DNA. He turned and smiled, nodding his head in approval. Reaching behind my seat, he grabbed a soda that was a few days old. Taking a swig, he stared at the bottle with a perplexed expression; he licked his lips, shrugged and put the spoiled bottle back. The beat kicked in, and I recognized it almost instantly.

  “You're right, man; it’s been years since I heard this track. What made you put this one on?” I questioned.

  “I was going to tell you earlier. Last night, you know I was at that gig downtown, right. Well, I met a chick there. She was incredible, dude... Anyway, I had done my best to get her attention, you know with my running man routine...”

  I interrupted him. “No way, you didn't. You know I said you look like a douche when you break out your moves,” I said pointedly. Mike chuckled and continued undeterred.

  “Well, like it or not, it seemed to work. She came over, and we began to talk. Turns out, she was in the area visiting friends, and well, I offered to show her around, so I took her for a coffee afterwards. It was magical, dude. Anyway, we got chatting about our friends, and I told her about the time we took that road trip and almost ended up being in a re-
enactment of deliverance. And that reminded me of this song. She kept giving me really weird looks, and I guess she's not big on man-on-man loving. That or she needed to take her contacts out. Afterwards, we said our goodbyes and that was it. She said she would be at the same club tonight if we can make it. I think she wants to set you up with one of her friends.” Mike finished, checking his rear view mirror.

  “You’re like completely betrothed with a stranger; that's kind of creepy, Mike.” I scoffed, pulling my phone out of my cargo pocket; I put my window down and hung my free hand out. Not a sign of breeze. I sighed.

  “Well, dude, let's go before we're sat ankle deep in ball soup,” I said while patting the dashboard. Meanwhile, Mike clipped his seatbelt in and started the ignition.

  “Mike, what was the girl's name anyway?” I asked, slightly preoccupied with scrolling through my phone, idly waiting for a text.

  “I think it was Cat or Kitten or Mitten or something like that. I was kind of wasted when I saw her, and the night was so awesome it was kind of a blur!” Mike said as the car coughed and spluttered to life.

  Now, that was a typical-Mike move. Spend all night with someone and get to know everything about them... apart from their name.

  “Well then, dude, let's get you home, so you can spruce yourself up, not to forget your hard to reach places,” Mike said. With a mischievous grin in place, he pulled out of the parking lot.

  Chapter 2

  Thirty minutes passed by, and we pulled up to my parent's town apartment on Bagot Street. My parents were so stupid sometimes; they made me go to high school in Sydenham; a school that was so far away it might as well of been Athens...