Bigfoot, p.1
Bigfoot, page 1
BIGFOOT
© 2014 by E.M. Leya
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author.
This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Photo by: http://www.freedigitalphotos.net
By imagerymajestic
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER WORK BY
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Hard to believe so much time has gone by since I braved the waters and published my first book. I have had several with me along the way who have been my support, sanity, and shoulder to cry on. I couldn't do it without those people. Karissa, Ascentii, Tammi, Carolyn, Adriana, Patti, and Marcia, you have been with me from day one. Thank you for everything you have done for me. The friendship I have with all of you is something I will cherish forever. To those who have joined my adventures recently, John, Mat, Lynn, Anthony, and Dan. I look forward to many more years with you.
Most of all, I thank my family and daughter for the sacrifices they make so I can write and share my stories with everyone. I love you all.
CHAPTER ONE
Twelve years. That was supposed to mean something. James stared at Marshall in shock, unsure how to respond. The years they'd shared flashed through his mind, from the first kiss back when they were fourteen, to losing their virginity together at sixteen. The two of them did everything together.
"You can't be serious. Married?" James blinked at his best friend, confused as he tried to digest the information that Marshall just tossed at him.
"I told you, it's what's expected of me. Besides, she's a great girl. I'm sure you'll like her when you meet her."
James shook his head, still dumbfounded. "I don't want to meet her."
"Why not?" Marshall actually looked hurt.
"Tell me, Marsh, does she know about us? Does she know that you and I have had a thing for over twelve years now?" James tried not to scream, but the more he thought about things, the angrier he became.
Marshall stared back at him and sighed as he ran his hand through his blond hair. "It's not that easy, James."
"Why not? If she really loves you, then she should love everything about you, right?" James tossed the shovel he was holding aside. "Damn it, Marsh. You and I had plans. What happened to you moving in here with me? Was that just talk? Bullshit words you thought I wanted to hear?"
Marshall shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step back. "You know it's not like that. I care about you, but everyone expects me to settle down and marry. It's just not that easy."
"It is that easy. Just tell them about us. Quit acting like a sissy and stand up and admit who you are. Fuck, Marsh, you're going to ruin this girl's life 'cause you can't stand the truth. You know as well as I do you won't ever be happy with a woman."
"It's not that bad." Marshall shrugged.
It was as if a knife was plunged straight through James's heart at Marshall's admittance. "You've fucked her?"
Marshall bit his lip.
"Just how long have you known her?" James was starting to wonder if he was the stupid one.
"Listen, it doesn't matter, does it? I'm going to marry her, and that means I can't do anything with you anymore." Marshall glanced over at his truck as if he wanted to make a quick escape.
"Fuck you, Marsh. You know it matters. You go. Get the fuck out of here and enjoy your life with your little woman. Just make sure you know when she isn't enough and you miss what we had, I won't be here waiting for you. I'm done. I'm not going to play your games anymore. Enjoy your married life." James forced himself to turn and start to walk away.
"James, wait. I didn't want this to happen." Marshall grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Didn't want what to happen? You mean her? Or were you hoping that somehow I would be okay with all this and stand by you?"
"You're my best friend…"
"I was more than that until ten minutes ago… At least I thought I was."
"You are. You know that. This doesn't have to change anything."
"Are you kidding? It changes everything. I thought it was you and I for life. I figured you would find the guts to come out sooner or later. I never thought for a minute that you would be telling me you've been cheating on me for God knows how long, let alone with a woman." James fought to keep the tears back as he looked the man he loved in the eyes. "I love you, Marsh. I never thought we would end. For me we were for life."
Marsh shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "It was for me, too. I thought I could deal with us, but then my parents started pushing. They kept asking me to bring my dates home. I had to do something. I met Shelly in college—"
"Two years? You've known her for two years and just now telling me about her?" James heard enough. Tears burned his eyes as he turned away. "Have a good fucking life, Marshall. I hope she makes you happy."
"James, wait," Marshall yelled.
There was nothing to wait for. James stomped off, ignoring Marshall's calls for him to come back. If this affair was going on for two years now, nothing was going to change. He was a fool for not seeing it sooner.
Praying Marsh wouldn't follow him, James made his way to the shed. He slammed the door hard, hoping that was a final goodbye to his best friend and lover. Tears escaped as he turned to slam his fist into the wooden wall.
"Fuck!" The pain of his knuckles tearing open grounded him. He shook his hand as he listened to the sound of Marshall's car pulling away. Blood covered his hand as he leaned back against the wall, trying to make sense of what just happened. How stupid could he have been? He really thought Marshall was his future. He could hardly remember a time when the two of them hadn't been together.
Sure, they had problems, and he'd begged Marshall to come out of the closet and live with him as a couple, but he'd been willing to give him the time he needed to do it. That should have been his first clue. He should have seen this coming, but he didn't. Maybe if it was another man he had been left for, he could deal with it better, but a woman… He just didn't see that coming.
He swiped at the tears with his uninjured hand, pissed off that he was crying in the first place. Marshall didn't deserve the tears. That fact still didn't stop them. It hurt worse than almost anything James could remember. Even his father's death just two months ago didn't hurt as bad as this.
James took a deep breath, trying to focus his jumbled thoughts and emotions. Memories of Marshall and him over the years played like a movie in his mind, their friendship growing from friends to lovers. They talked about the future often, and James never doubted that Marshall was who he would spend the rest of his life with. What a fool he was.
Anger mixed with pain as he pushed away from the wall and started to pace. The shed, usually his sanctuary, was now confining. He glanced at the wood-working equipment he used to carve his statues and other items, finding no comfort in them like he usually did. There were too many memories of Marshall in here, but hell, where weren't there memories?
Needing to escape, he pulled the door open and stepped back out into the large yard. It bordered the mountains on one side, and sat nearly a mile from the main road at the front. His father loved his seclusion. When he died, James inherited the place, and was happy to move out of his apartment to the large home. He'd spent most his time with his father anyway as his health declined. It was also home to his wood shop where he created the art that he would sell to the local stores in town.
Marshall would come over almost nightly and sit with James as he worked. They would talk, flirt, and tease each other, until the wood was forgotten, and they would pull blankets out to lie upon the ground so they could make love.
James never hid he was gay, coming out to his parents in high school, but he respected Marshall's wishes to not let anyone know about their relationship. Marsh promised to come out in time, swore that he wouldn't hide forever. James trusted him. That had been a huge mistake.
The sun beat down on him, making the average Oregon afternoon hotter than normal. He glanced at the sky, wishing for rain. It would fit his mood. The garden he'd been working in when Marshall showed up would have to wait. He wasn't going to get any work done today.
Ignoring the garden and the shovel he'd tossed aside, he made his way to the front porch. He loved the old screen enclosed porch his father built when he was a boy. It kept the bugs away, but still allowed the evening breeze to come through. James fell asleep most nights, lying on the porch, staring out over the land.
He went into the house only long enough to grab a cold beer before returning to the porch. He slumped down in his favorite chair and twisted the cap off the bottle. He took several gulps before setting the beer down. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. It didn't feel real. Marshall was such a huge part of his life, he expected him to come driving up any minute as if nothing happened, but that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it. Not after being lied to for years. He had more self-respect than that.
As he reached for his beer again, a sound to the side of the yard caught his attention. It sounded as if branches were being broken. He was used to deer and other small wildlife coming into the yard, but this sounded larger. Leaving the safety of the porch, he walked across the yard, toward the base of the mountain. Heavy trees and bushes covered the land, and he saw nothing at first, but as he scanned the trees, his breath caught and the beer fell from his hand. He froze in fear and awe as he stared at something he never thought was real…
Bigfoot.
CHAPTER TWO
Jeremiah cursed as he leaned too hard against the tree, forgetting his own weight. The branches cracked and he caught himself a second before he would have fallen. It just showed how distracted he was. Normally balance was never an issue for him. He turned to flee, when the scent of the young man he'd been watching became stronger. He stopped to look back once more and froze as their eyes met.
Fear and curiosity mixed as he took in the red, swollen eyes and shocked expression. It was the screaming that brought him to the area in the first place. He heard the conversation between the two men, smelled the tears of the one who'd locked himself in the shed. He felt for him, understanding all too well how it was to lose someone you loved.
He blinked at the man several times, aware that he was breaking rules and should be running for cover, but something held him there. He lifted his arm to brush the hair from his eyes, and stopped as the man watching him cringed. The last thing he wanted was to scare him. He needed to leave, get away before the man saw more, or even worse, reached for his cell phone and got a picture. He would be put to death for sure if he allowed a photo to be taken. Jeremiah gave the man a final glance and turned, using his long legs to run up the slope and out of sight.
His cabin was only a few miles away, and he made it there in just a few minutes. His long stride giving him the ability to run fast. Once near his home, he surveyed the area around him, careful to make sure he was hidden from view in the thick mass of trees before he shifted.
The cabin was far enough off the road that he didn't have to worry too much about anyone seeing him as he ran naked to the back door. Still, you never knew when someone might just drop by to say hi. Caution was the first rule his parents taught him when he turned sixteen and shifted for the first time.
Once in the safety of his home, he quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt, the whole time thinking about what he witnessed back at the other man's home. He passed by that home a million times on his nightly runs, but never stopped to watch who lived there. When the yelling started, he slowed to listen, then eased closer to watch. He shouldn't have intruded, but once he heard what was going on, sensed the pain of the dark-haired man, smelled the salt from his tears, he couldn't pull away. It took everything he had not to go closer. Only the fact that he would be naked, kept him from shifting and going to the man to make sure he was okay.
He fucked up letting the man see him. Jeremiah prayed that the guy kept the sighting to himself and didn't report it. The last thing he needed right now was a bunch of Bigfoot hunters showing up and searching the forest around his home. That would mean weeks or even months of not shifting, and Jeremiah grew restless if he didn't get to shift at least every few days.
With a bottle of water in hand, Jeremiah sat down on his large couch, staring out the window at the fading sunlight. It wasn't often he shifted during the day, but boredom won out and he'd gone exploring. Lesson learned. Nothing good happened in the daylight. He risked the exposure of his whole species by being careless. He sighed. Two weeks' vacation was going to kill him. It was only day two and already he was bored.
It wasn't that he loved his job. It kept him busy, gave him something to focus on, but he was just a mechanic. He was tired of working for other people and longed to open his own shop. The way he was going, he would be able to afford to do that sometime around the age of ninety. He wasn't about to wait another sixty years to see his dream come true. He needed to find a way to make more money or he was bound to spend the rest of his life working for someone else.
He should have listened to his parents and gone to college, but the thought of being stuck in some school for years, living away from the mountains he loved, and only being able to shift every week or two wasn't for him. Instead, he trained at the local garage, and when he moved away from home, found a job at a local auto shop. Coulda-woulda-shoulda. It did no good to look back.
As he relaxed back, his mind again wandered to the man he'd seen getting dumped. The hurt was obvious. Jeremiah couldn't blame him. From what he heard, it sounded like they'd been together for a long time.
He thought back to his own past, his own loss. It still caused an ache deep inside when he thought about Chris. It seemed like a lifetime since he'd been killed in a car accident outside of town, but really only two years had passed.
Jeremiah thought Chris was the one. He'd been about to tell him his secret - a huge step in any shifter relationship. You only told someone you trusted, because if that person betrayed your trust, it meant death, not only for that person, but possibly you. He'd trusted Chris that way. Trusted him with his secret, with his life.
It was rare to meet someone you could trust that much, and Jeremiah doubted he would ever meet another. Slowly, he tried to accept that he would probably be alone for the rest of his life. There was no way he could live with someone and keep his secret to himself.
There were other shifters, but most of them were straight. He envied them and how easy it was for them to meet someone of their own kind and not have to worry about trust and secrets, but he couldn't change who he was. Didn't want to.
Still, he felt for the man. Loss of someone you loved wasn't easy. It didn't matter if it was death or if it was some other reason you were torn apart. Being alone after that loss was even worse. He wondered if the man had anyone else to turn to, someone to confide in.
Jeremiah shook his head as he sat up. He shouldn't be worried about the man's emotional wellbeing. What he should stress over is if he was online right now contacting the Bigfoot hunters in the area.
He needed to keep his eyes open and listen to the gossip around town to make sure he and the few others in the area stayed safe. As he flipped off the lights and made his way to the bedroom, he decided to head into town tomorrow and see what he could find out about the man. Couldn’t hurt to find out more about him and see if he was telling others about what he saw.
CHAPTER THREE
James rolled over and groaned as he tried to see the clock through blurry eyes. He couldn't remember falling asleep. He'd spent most the night on the porch, watching over the forest, trying to convince himself that he hadn't seen what he saw.
He had to be crazy, he thought as he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. He'd only drank half a beer. Was that enough to cause him to see things? He didn't think so. He was certain what he saw wasn't human. There was no way anyone could put on a costume and look that way. Maybe if they had the best Hollywood artist, but his gut told him it was real, not some prank.
He wasn't sure what to do. If he went around telling everyone what he saw, they would call him crazy, but there were a lot of people who believed in Bigfoot. Even some show on TV where they searched for him. Should he call them?
The bed creaked as he pushed up out of it. His body ached as he made his way toward the bathroom, and his hand still throbbed. Scratches and cuts covered his knuckles from where he hit the wall. He couldn't push Marshall from his mind, even with the distraction of Bigfoot in his backyard. As the hours went on, he expected a phone call from Marshall, but the call never came. It was for the best, but it hurt.
