Love Me ~ Without Regret

by Renee Kennedy

  The quietness seeps in making me raw and exposed, leaving room for my fears to claw their way back into my thoughts. Sometimes I hate myself. I hate myself for being weak. Having been raised by a self-proclaimed strong woman gave me a sense that women should be strong; but this strength was masked by destruction. A home built on lies, alcohol, and drugs. I always felt like I had lived in the shadows. No one really ever took notice of me. I always thought that as long as I did what I was told, kept out of trouble, and made something of myself, people would take notice. I was wrong... so very wrong. Maybe my need to have people believe in me rather than believe in myself is what led me down the path I am now desperately trying to free myself from. But, then again, how can I believe in myself after everything that has happened.

  Fear seizes me. I suddenly have the sense that I am not alone, and panic strikes me like lightning. I tell myself that I am being silly; just a conditioned response that I need to get over if I am ever going to climb out of this hell. Shaking myself off, I realize that the sun is going down. I have been out for hours escaping reality. It wasn’t until the chill of the wind hit my face that I realized I was crying, tears running down my face. I watched as the wooden rail of the bridge absorbed my tears as if hearing my cries, then taking them away. This was certainly not the first night I have spilled my sorrows onto the bridge, and I know it will not be my last.

  While gearing up to head back home, the feeling washes over me again that I am not alone, only this time, it’s stronger. My heart is frantically trying to claw its way out of my chest. Could he be here? Scolding myself, I take several gulping breaths, trying to calm my shaking hands. Unwilling to wait around a moment longer testing faith, I kick the Quad over and nothing.

  “Come on you cold blooded SOB!” I yell as I furiously kick the Quad over and over again.

  Oh my God, he is here. I can feel him. My foot slips off the kick-start, slamming into my shin. Blistering pain burns outward, and I can feel the warmth of blood slowly streaming its way down my leg. Shit. I can’t believe this is happening. How stupid can I possibly be? The sound of crunching gravel nears. NO! He is here! He is getting closer.

  Forgetting about the pain as I frantically kick the Quad over and over again, the motor roars to life. Cranking the throttle wide open, I spin the Quad in a one-eighty to get the hell out of there. I am too afraid to look behind me and see not what, but who I know is there. Taking the direct route back to the ranch, I chastise myself for not taking more precautions. Not being in control is what got me in this disaster in the first place. I tell myself over and over again that I am not safe without control. I need control in order to ensure my safety.

  The dirt road down to the cabin is narrow and rutted from the snowfall, which slows down my speed. I know he couldn’t have followed me, but the slow pace in which I have to travel reseeds unease into my stomach making me jumpy. I keep looking over my shoulder waiting to see him appear from thin air. Am I going to have to live the rest of my life watching every move I make, continually looking over my shoulder? How could I possibly live my life like this, in constant fear? This is no way for someone to live. The fear alone is suffocating, grasping my throat like his strong hands are choking me.

  The cabin peeks out as I round the corner. It is a small, quaint little cabin that belonged to my Grandpa. There is nothing glamorous about the rustic wood paneled place, but the sight of it calms my nerves. Although Grandpa passed away eight years ago, I can still feel him here. He was a powerful man. Not in a sense of wealth, but a power that was so much greater. His presence demanded attention. His “take no shit approach to life” let you know that he was not someone to be messed with.

  I assume that was a quality he had picked up during his employment as a Correctional Officer for the Folsom Joint. One look and he could level anyone. I witnessed it first-hand on several occasions. It was comical to watch grown men squirm under his penetrating gaze. It did not matter if you were doing something wrong or not; with that look he could see who you were and what you have done, and by God, to be the recipient of that glacial stare was just downright terrifying. Still, with as hard as his calculated assessments were, he was the most loving man I have ever met. I cherished him. He was so soft and kind with us kids. It was always a special treat to get to sit in Grandpa’s chair with him sharing butterscotches. This place reminds me so much of the man who built it with his bare hands, rough and strong, but cozy and comforting all the same.

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  The Ascension of Laney by Kris Hack

  Chapter 1

  Laney

  “Laney.” my roommate, Ryan, whispers and nudges my arm, waking me from my daydreams of the past. Apparently, they’ve called my name twice. I stand up, smiling and waving, and the entire auditorium erupts in laughter. Eh, they won’t remember me after today. It’s freshman orientation and Ryan volunteered us both to lead the transfer tour. I wasn’t psyched about the idea, and if we weren’t getting paid at least a little I might not have showed up at all.

  Ryan dragged me to a party last night, not a good one because most people won’t move back for the coming semester until today or tomorrow. Even so, I’m good and hung over. There’s a little marching band pounding in my head and I’m pretty sure standing up so fast is going to have repercussions in the form of my stomach contents covering the floor. The Dean finishes directing the freshmen to which group leader they should follow and dismisses us.

  Ten minutes later, I’m standing in front of the auditorium with a line of about twenty transfer students. I scan the crowd, quickly counting heads. We’re two short. They’ll either catch up later or miss it. Technically, the tour isn’t required—no one checks that each student actually shows up—but they also don’t broadcast that fact. If they did, no one would take the tour, and in a week we’d have a ton of lost transfer students roaming the campus.

  “Alright, welcome to Crawford Falls University. Show of hands, how many of you will be living on campus?” I pause, no one raises their hand, not a single one. Thank God. That means I’m getting off early today. “Okay, then we’ll skip the dorm tour and finish this up quickly.” Everyone cheers.

  After a quick introduction, I begin the tour with the chemistry building, following with the mathematics building, then the computer labs. As we are leaving one of the computer labs, I notice two guys have joined the back of the group. One of them I’ve never seen before. He’s tan and looks more like a bodybuilder than a college student. Looks a little older than a college student, too. He’s cute but definitely not my type. Bodybuilder is more Ryan’s speed. I stop and just stare at the second one, not believing what I’m seeing, my mouth hanging open a little. I snap it shut. That face is not one I thought I’d ever see again.

  Kass Springer. The boy I loved, the one who disappeared, is standing at the back of the crowd staring at me in awe. He hasn’t changed much, still looks the same just a little older and maybe more bulky than before. Not as bulky as his friend, not even close, but more filled out than he was in high school. He’s smiling at me. Smiling! I could kill him. I cried for months, and if I’m honest, years over him. I return his smile with a glare as Ryan takes over the rest of the tour.

  We make it to the library mall. Why they call it a mall, I have no idea. There’s only one library and it looks nothing like a mall. I tell the transfers about the library and the surrounding buildings and as I’m finishing up, Kass’s hand goes into the air. Ryan looks at me nervously—she must have caught the tension coming off of me in waves—but he doesn’t wait to be called on; he takes our short silence as permission to speak.

  “You said students in the work study program can sign up to work in the library.” I nod my head. “Are you in the work study program?” Uh… really?

  “Yes, that’s part of why I’m here today, giving this tour.” I gesture to the crowd as if he didn’t know they were there.

  “So, what is your other work study job?” Is he for real? No, just no.

  I
turn around and begin walking the other direction, explaining which buildings we’re passing along the way. Behind me, I hear the group shuffle to catch up. Gah, I can feel him staring at my back and dammit, it gives me the chills just like it used to, which pisses me off.

  We finish the tour quicker than usual and Ryan and I ride home together after a hasty exit. I love her perceptiveness probably about as much as I hate it. She drills me about him the whole way home and I reluctantly give her the details of the past he and I share. She swoons, the bitch. By the end of my story, she decides I should give him another chance. He hasn’t asked for one, and she’s being a tad presumptuous thinking he will. I really hope he isn’t here for me, and I honestly don’t know why he would be. He chose to leave, no one forced him to.

  “Maybe he left for a good reason,” she says.

  “He could have called or at least told me he was leaving beforehand. There is no reason good enough for him to just drop off the face of the earth one day.”

  “You never know.”

  “And I never want to,” I snap and she stops talking about it after that and I’m glad.

  After leaving me to stew for a while in my room, Ryan begs me to go with her to the game. I refuse. I went to plenty of games last semester and it’s not much different from high school football. I’m still rooting for the losing team. I haven’t seen a winning game since Kass disappeared. He pretty much carried the football team at our high school. He’s also the reason I can’t go to the game tonight. Seeing him earlier was enough of a shock. I don’t think I could handle the constant cheering and yelling of his name. I don’t know for sure that he’s on the team, but Crawford Falls surely wouldn’t let him slide by. He could’ve gotten a full ride. Hell, maybe he did.

  I’ve pretty much been sitting in my room trying to read since we got home from orientation. I haven’t really been successful. Thinking about the past is consuming me. I’ve gone over every detail of my relationship with Kass and I still can’t figure out why he would leave with no explanation. He was there one day and gone the next. No trace of him. I went to his parents’ house and it had been completely cleared out. All their phones had been cut off and I was never able to make contact. I ended up convincing myself he just didn’t want to be with me and in the process, I’d turned into a crazy woman searching for him.

  Ryan cracks my door and sticks her head in. I hadn’t realized how late it was and that the game has probably already ended. “I know you’re in here sulking about Kass but you’re only hurting yourself.”

  “I know.” She looks shocked I admitted it.

  “So…” She opens the door the rest of the way and shoves a dark purple dress in front of her body, her eyes peeking out over the top, hiding the huge smile I know is underneath. “I thought we could go to the first frat party of the semester. I’ll even let you wear your favorite dress from my closet.” She waves the dress as if it’s dancing in the doorway. I laugh and her grin spreads. “What do you say? You love parties.” I don’t, but she does, and it would get my mind off of things.

  “Fine, but I’m wearing your black pumps, too.” She squeals and jumps up and down, nodding her head.

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  Table of Contents

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Recommended Reads from the Author