Hard To Love

by Ross, Sabrina

  Hard To Love - is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright protected © 2014 Sabrina Ross All rights reserved

  Cover design and artwork by Sabrina Ross Photograph by Anonymous

  Book design by Sabrina Ross

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  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property.

  ISBN: 10: 1500687952 ISBN: 13: 978-1500687953

  Hard To Love

  Sabrina Ross

  CHAPTER ONE

  The rushing water spilled over the rocky cliff above, crashing over and over to the bottom of the riverbed. Mist clouded the air, slowly turning to ice pellets that melted as they landed on my cheek, a sign that winter was near. The loud yet soothing roar of the waterfall filled the calm, dense forest that surrounded me, filling me with tranquility and peace, like the gentle pounding of a beating heart, drowning out all the thoughts that cluttered my mind. When I closed my eyes, it felt like home.

  The giant fallen tree trunk beneath me, covered in dark green moss, gave a soft cushion against my back as I lay there looking up through the leafy canopy above. Brilliant colours of fall took hold of the leaves on the trees above me; red, orange and yellow framed the opening, and through it bits of clouds floated by. The sky was grey, the weatherman had called for rain, yet I felt nothing, apart from the mist of the river below enveloping me.

  Then, tears began to trickle down the sides of my face, landing in my hair. I felt—empty inside.

  “Time to go, my darling.” A voice broke the silence that filled my head.

  I sat up swiftly, looking around to find that nobody was there. I guess I should have mentioned that I see ghosts. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s a bit of a shock at first. I don’t remember why it started, only when it started.

  I believe I was twelve years old.

  “Matt?” I whispered. He had known how to make me smile. I missed him desperately. I would give anything to see him again.

  Who was I kidding? Of course he wasn’t here, because he was dead. He was dead and it was my fault. Tears began to flood my eyes again, as I thought about that horrible night. That horrible night that had changed my life forever.

  “You have got to stop blaming yourself,” he replied.

  “Matt?” My head spun around, and this time, I saw him. My eyes welled and my heart began to pound against my ribs. He was sitting a few feet away from me, looking as handsome as I remembered. I never understood what kept the dead around, but I was thankful it happened. “What—I—I don’t understand. How are you here?”

  He smiled and avoided the question. “This is not how I wanted you to live out the rest of your life, Lauren.” He flickered as he swiftly moved around me.

  “I don’t know what else to do.” My head turned as I tried to follow him. I started to cry, wishing I could hold him. “Nothing is the same anymore.”

  “Of course it’s not, sweetheart. You need to start over. Make a new life, with new memories.” His head tilted slightly.

  “I can’t. I miss you so much.” I said and covered my face as I cried, my body shaking.

  Matt continued, “I know, darling.” He stood tall, like a shadow cast down over me. Then he jumped off the log and he landed perfectly on the forest floor below. “I can’t move on, if you don’t stop thinking about me.”

  “Even in death I’m ruining your life.” I shook my head ashamed.

  “You never ruined my life, Lauren.” He said with a smirk.

  “I’m going crazy, aren’t I?” I scoffed.

  “No,” he said his smile widening. Then as he looked up at me, his eyes sparkled in the scattered light.

  “Then how is it that we are talking right now?” I asked through trembling lips.

  “I never thought it was possible, but when you heard me, I realized it was.” He smiled. “I am thankful that you can see and hear me.”

  “Me too.” I replied. “I’m sorry, Matt.” I sobbed into my hands.

  “I know, darling,” he said and held out his hand for me to take it.

  “It should have been me. It was my fault.” I shook my head, burying my face in my hands again as the terrible memories of that night seeped their way in.

  “You need to stop thinking like that.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Everything happens for a reason,” he said, moving closer. I glanced down at the ground below. The drop was far.

  “I wish that stupid phrase never existed,” I groaned. “I’m tired of hearing it. You didn’t need to die for any mystical reason.” I said then looked away from his stare.

  “Who knows why things happen, Lauren? You can’t let it define your life. You must accept what is, and carry on.” He said then waited for me to jump down.

  “You are a good person, Matt. You didn’t deserve to die.” I stood. “I—I—” My voice trailed off. Matt’s head slowly turned and as he disappeared, another voice echoed in the forest.

  “You can’t be here,” I heard someone say.

  My head jerked in the direction he was coming from. A man slowly approached me; dressed head to toe in black, staring up at me. His foot on a large rock and his arms folded. I focused on him warily.

  “Why not? You’re here,” I retorted, wiping the tears from my cheek.

  “I live here.” He scoffed.

  “Here . . . in the forest?” I said, sarcastically.

  “What? No. I’m here because my family owns this land,” he replied, pulling out a silver flask from his pocket. He studied me for a long moment. “You, on the other hand, are trespassing,” he added. I observed him as he stood there drinking from his shiny silver flask. He screwed the lid and looked up at me again. This guy had some deep rooted problems, worse than any I had ever dealt with.

  “I used to come here all the time when I was a kid. I don’t remember it being owned by any one person in particular,” I replied, climbing my way down.

  “Well, now you know.” He screwed the lid off again, took a long haul, and then screwed the lid back on. “So, you should go.” He clicked his tongue and shooed me away. I brushed the dirt form my pants and hands and crossed my arms, glaring at him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Sheriff of Nottingham, is there some sort of toll that I need to pay?” I said, walked towards him.

  “Funny.” He scowled wagging his index finger at her.

  “I’m here all week?” I replied walking away from him. He sighed stuffing the flask in the inner pocket of his jacket. “So, who pray tell, owns this land,” I asked.

  “I believe I told you that.”

  “No, all you said was that your family owns this land, who exactly is your family.” I said backing up from him.

  “The Foster’s.”

  “Oh . . . doesn’t ring a bell.” I replied. “You lived here long?”

  “My entire life,” he said with a nod.

  “Weird . . . I grew up here and I don’t
recall a Foster family name.” I replied.

  “Well my mother is Abigail Porter.”

  “Oh.”

  “Exactly,” he said with a roll of his eyes, and then started walking away.

  I stood there watching him as he disappeared through the dense forest. When I knew for certain that I was alone, I called out to Matt again. A heavy disappointed filled me to the very core when he didn’t answer. This seeing ghost thing was so subjective, anytime I wanted it to happen it never did. It usually happened when I was least expecting it.

  Eventually I made my way out to the gravel parking lot outside the forest. I noticed a car that had not been there earlier. I scanned the area, seeing nobody else around. But as I got closer to my car, I spotted a man slumped over the side of the car. I rushed over and kneelt in front of him.

  “Hey.” I said shaking him when I realized it was the guy form earlier, the jerk who told me to get of his family’s land. “Are you okay?” I asked, gently slapping his cheek.

  “O uch! Why are you hitting me?” He shuffled away, hitting his head against the mirror on the door of the car, cursing.

  “Sorry. I thought that you were hurt or, better yet, dead, but it turned out you’re just drunk,” I huffed shaking my head and then sat back on my heels.

  “What was your first clue that I was still breathing?” He snapped, and then rubbed his head.

  “For now,” I snarled then stood, folding my arms and glaring down at him. “Sorry to bother you.” I turned and made my way over to my car, glancing back at him before opening the door.

  He was trying to get to his feet, unsuccessfully.

  I rolled my eyes, sucked in a deep breath, went against my better judgment and offered to help him. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” I asked, walking back towards him, offering my hand to help him up.

  “Pfft, from the crazy girl who was talking to herself in the forest? I think I’ll pass.” He scoffed slapping my hand away. My lip twitched and I stared at him shocked. He made an attempt getting up by using the open window on his driver side door.

  “I wasn’t talking to myself,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Then who were you talking to,” he replied leaning back on the car to hold himself up.

  I screwed my lips down, a little embarrassed, wishing he hadn’t heard me. “Do you want a ride or not? I don’t care either way.” I didn’t mean it, but I said it anyway. I often don’t think before I spoke. Strangest thing was that I actually wanted to give him a ride. There was something hiding behind this façade he put on. His glassy blue eyes stared me down which made me a little uncomfortable so I quickly downcast my eyes to avoid his stare.

  “That’s not very nice,” he replied, stumbling forward. When I looked up again, attempting to give him an annoyed glance, his smirk made my heart jump a little in my chest. My eyes fluttered and a shallow breath darted out.

  “Last-chance offer,” I said turning away and unlocking the car doors.

  “Fine,” He huffed. “I can’t find my keys anyway.” He said smirking as he planted his hand on the roof of my car trying to open the car door. I shook my head laughing as I walked around the back of the car then shoved him playfully aside. He grabbed my jacket to stay balanced. My head shot in his direction, surprised. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at me trying not to smile, but that sexy little smirk was clearly visible.

  “How much alcohol fits in that flask?” I muttered as I pulled open the door for him.

  “Not enough.” He replied then stumbled forward. His face hovered close to mine. The smell of alcohol on his breath was eminent.

  “Get in.” I stepped back, grabbing his arm and pulling him with me.

  “No need to be pushy,” he said, pulling away from my grasp. I walked backwards as he attempted to get in the front seat. I shook my head and twirled the keys around my finger, then walked back over to the driver side to also get in the car.

  “Where do you live?” I asked, starting the engine. I stretched my arm over the back of my seat to see out the window as I backed up. He stared at me his blue eyes burning through me.

  “Over on Skyline Road.” He said as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. My mouth gaped slightly. Anybody who was somebody lived off Skyline Road. My best friend from childhood did as well.

  “Did you just move to the area?” I asked.

  “Nope, lived here all my life, remember.” He said tapping his temple. Then he added. “Well . . . off and on, I should clarify.” He rested his head on the seat. “But—I’m pretty sure we established that already.”

  “Yeah, I remember. It’s just that I don’t remember you.” My cheeks burned.

  “I guess I didn’t make much of an impression, then.” He scoffed turning to look out the window. I watched him as he fumbled with the button that locked and unlocked the doors.

  “Did you want the window open?” I tried to hide my smile as I pressed the button on my door to lower his window. He avoided looking at me but I heard him chuckle, and then hung his arm out the window.

  “We moving yet,” he asked, slowly turning to look at me. I did all I could to stop from snapping at him. Just because he was rude didn’t mean I had to be.

  “Why are you like that?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road. There’s that mouth of mine, speaking before my brain thinks about it first.

  “Why are you driving a stranger home?” His leaned forward in his seat to looking at me. I caught a quick glance of his hard stare. I shook my head and shrugged.

  “I guess my only excuse would be that I would rather offer a stranger a ride home in an effort to prevent anything horrible happening. I don’t want to read in the news the following day about some stupid, childish, pig-headed dick crashing his milliondollar sports car, because he has no morals.” I shrugged.

  “Oh, please do tell me what you really think, because I could always use some critiquing on who I really am.” He shook his head then looked away. I sucked in a long deep breath and rolled my eyes feeling bad.

  “You’re right. I don’t know you so I shouldn’t judge you.” I apologized. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know if that is noble”—he paused glancing over at me, annoyed, then continued—“Or just plain ignorant.” He shifted in his seat.

  “Excuse me? How is that ignorant?” I retorted.

  “What if I was a serial killer or rapist? How do your morals help you then?” He scoffed. “You’re pathetic.”

  “First of all, who the hell do you think you are?” I shouted angrily.

  “I told you—”

  “Told me what?” I looked over at him.

  “Who I was,” he replied.

  “No you didn’t,” I stated.

  “Mason,” he smirked.

  My cheeks flared red. Even his name was sexy.

  “Well Mason, you are way too drunk to try either offense, and second, having morals is not a bad thing. You should try it sometime.” I snapped, my fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and I pressed the gas pedal down picking up speed. The sooner he’s gone, the better, I thought. His ignorance was unfathomable. When I knew his mother, I didn’t remember her acting unruly, such as him. Unfortunately, I didn’t end the conversation there. “What if you killed someone, huh? Do you want that to haunt you for the rest of your life?” I asked.

  “Stop,” he grumbled, eyes still staring out the window.

  “No! What if you drove home and you killed a family; mother, father, children? Do you want that on your conscience?” I asked. “Don’t you care about those things?”

  “STOP!”

  I slammed on the brakes as we approached a red light, I had not realizing how fast I was going, distracted by all the yelling I was doing, at him. I had no right to judge. Then he turned in his seat to look at me.

  “How do you know I haven’t already?” he snarled. “I haven’t, but look how quickly you believed it,” he scoffed, and shook his head.

  “You leave little
to be desired, Mason.” I replied, pressing my lips thinly. I closed my eyes taking in a few deep breaths, as I patiently waited for the light to turn green. When he didn’t say anything else, I turned up the radio, ending the conversation.

  After a mile I turned down Mills road, hanging a right a few blocks before reaching his street, on the left. When I turned down Skyline Road, he reached over and turned the radio down catching me off guard.

  “ Drop me off here,” he said, taking off his seatbelt.

  “I’ll drop you off at your house,” I replied.

  “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to find out that you’re

  stalking me,” he stated. I gasped in disbelief at his remark. I slammed on the brakes, causing him to bump his head on the roof of the car. I shook my head, biting my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring at me.

  “You’re welcome.” I put the car in park and unlocked the doors. He rubbed his head, and then turned to get out, without even saying thank you.

  “You know, you shouldn’t lecture anyone about—” I turned towards him, my face blazing red, “Get out.” I interjected. His lips curved up on the right and I had to look away. He got out of the car and as he passed in front of me, I put the car in drive and squealed off. My anger boiled inside as I thought about Mason and his poor people skills. I couldn’t believe that Mrs. Porter—Foster could bare such a child.

  When I got home, I parked the car in the garage, shut off the engine and sat in the dark with my eyes closed. Images of my time with Matt in the forest came back. I wanted badly for it to happen again. Resting my head back, I breathed, thinking only of him. Then the light in the garage turned on, bringing me out of my thoughts. I looked up to find my mother standing in the doorway, with a worrisome look on her face.

  “Lauren?” she called out, bending slightly to get a better look in the car.

  I opened the door and got out. “Yeah, mom, it’s just me,” I said. My mother pushed the button on the wall to shut the garage door.

  “Why were you sitting in the car?” she asked, taking me in her arms as I approached her.

  “I was just thinking.” I shrugged. “That’s all.”