Kimber

This book is a work of fiction. The similarity to
actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Characters,
names, places and incidents are product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. 

            Copyright © 2012 by Sarah Denier

            All Rights Reserved

            ISBN-13:
978-0615684567 (Little Bridge Publishing, LLC)

            ISBN-10:
0615684564

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means be it, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system
without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

Published
by

Little
Bridge Publishing, LLC

Edited by: Rosemary
Virgil

Cover image by:
Sarah Denier

Cover
design by: Ron Bercume

 
www.ronbercume.com

First
edition September 2012

The
author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners
of the following watermarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Paramore, Shania
Twain, BMW, Ford, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Nike, Tylenol,
Ibuprofen, Indermil, Vicodin, Penicillin, Google, Elie Saab, Bob Marley, The
Big Bang Theory,  Learjet, Hilton,

AKNOWLEDGMENTS

Dreams
live behind my eyes where no one else can see. Somehow, this one escaped.

 First
and foremost I would personally like to thank each and every person to whom my
book now belongs. I look forward to experiencing Kimber’s journey with you and
the endless possibilities the future holds.

To
my friend and editor Rosemary Virgil. Thank you for the brainstorms, the
honesty, the wisdom and the endless hours. Your encouragement helped me to
discover myself as a writer. There are fewer places I’d rather be than at your
dining table.

            To Ron
Bercume. Thank you for taking a dream from my hand and passing it out to the
world and for your artistic designs to both the cover and website.  Find Ron
Bercume the graphic designer, marketing strategist and disability activist at
www.ronbercume.com.

            A special
thank you to my friend and cover model Casey McKinney for portraying KIMBER  so
beautifully and to Carissa Boland and Alexandria for assisting in the shoot.     

For my mother Bridget

(4-10-59 to 12-8-88)

Though physically you are not with me, I feel your
everlasting presence.  Until the day I see you again, all my love.

“Sometimes
only one person is missing and the whole world seems depopulated.”

                                                                                          
 Alphonse De Lamartine

I
SIT AT my kitchen table and stare out the french doors that lead to the
backyard. Outside the rain pours down by the buckets. With hurricane season
reaching its end, mid fall in Florida does little to shift the weather.

As
lightning crawls across the night, piercing the swollen sky, thunder roars and
rumbles shaking the earth below it. It’s picturesque. As if Mother Nature
herself cries the tears I can no longer produce. 

My
skin feels like it’s vibrating. I’m devoid of direction and see no purpose in
anything. I cannot produce coherent thoughts and if I could, they would end up
being dark and threatening, like all the others. I cannot contemplate the day
to come. I do not wish to think of the jagged way my heart has torn. 

I
have not eaten much in the past few days, sleep is not calling my name and
everyone I know has been smothering me with concern. I wish I could shut it all
away. Go into hiding and pray for some sort of a redo time warp to take the
past four months away.

             A soft
knock at the front door shakes me from my dejection. There is no need for me to
answer it. I know who it is. He has a key.

Leo
comes through the front door soaking wet. Beads of water trickle off his short
dirty blond hair as he runs his hand through it. The shirt and jeans Leo wears
are three shades darker from the rain.

These
days Leo is my only saving grace. The only one who holds me to reality. It used
to be just the thought of Leo would give me a happy, weightless stir of
butterflies, kind of feeling. Seeing him now, it does nothing to kill the pain
possessing me.

Born
in New Zealand, Leo moved to the states when he was eleven. He doesn’t have
much of an accent. He took private lessons and dropped it once he realized how
cruel kids can be. Every now and again though it comes out when he’s mad or in
certain things he says, like when he calls me aroha, the Maori word for love.
Sometimes he’ll do it just for me and it drives me crazy, or used to.

Leo
is a classic, good looking and easy on the eyes, type of guy. He is six foot
two, lean and muscular thanks to his love for sports. His lips are made of the
softest clouds. The stubble on his square jaw could make him look older than
nineteen but he doesn’t take advantage of it. Then there are his eyes. His
gorgeous eyes are the most electric hazel mixture I have ever seen. I can
always tell what mood he is in by their color. Green when he is happy. Bright
blue when he is sad. Foggy gray when he is angry. Tonight as he takes the chair
next to mine, his eyes are a swirled mixture of bluish gray.

“How
you doing?” His voice is low and dry. 

I
give him a sideways glance. It’s a stupid question and he knows it.

“I
dropped it all off. It’ll all be set up when you…we arrive tomorrow.” Leo
reaches across the table capturing my hands in his. He squeezes them softly.

“There’s
no way. I just can’t do it.” Tears form puddles in my eyes. “If I just knew
why.” My throat tightens with anger. I’ve run through every why and how
thousands of times. However, no answer will suffice. No piece of knowledge can
make my mother’s murder seem any less than heart wrenching. 

 On
the verge of turning eighteen, I graduated high school and wanted to start my
enrollment at the University of Florida a semester late. My mother was less
than happy but I struck a deal with her. She agreed I could postpone my first
semester on one condition. I had to take an internship in Tampa at the State
Attorney’s office where my mother worked as a Defense Attorney.

It
was not a bad job. I liked doing the data entry, sorting the mail and making
lunch runs. The real plus for me was being able to see my mother more. Her job
always had a way of keeping her in the office. I know our lack of time together
ate away at her but I understood. She was living her dream. A dream that
provided the nicer things in life for the both of us. She had dominated her
field with such fortitude there was a list of people begging for her
representation.     

Four
months ago everything changed. Thursday July Third was my day off. My mother
came into my room to give me a quick kiss on the head and a, “See ya later kiddo.”
It was the last time I saw her face or heard her voice. Three weeks later, she
was discovered in a ravine off Interstate Four in Tampa, twenty-eight miles
from home.

Detective
Muller, the lead investigator, did not dare ask me to identify her body. Leo
had been brave enough to do that for me. I gave a DNA sample for a positive
identification but I didn’t need to wait several weeks to get an answer. I knew
the body found was my mother. I felt it in my gut.

            “Come on.
You need sleep.” Leo says now standing.

“I
need so many things.” I push away from the table. “Can you stay tonight?” I ask
as I start up the stairs with Leo behind me.

“Um,
tonight isn’t good for me.”

 I
stop at my bedroom door and turn to him. “Why?”

“You
know why.” He retorts.

I
do know why but I preferred to forget. Leo and I have a long past together. If
you ask either one of us, we have an even longer future ahead. We met not long
after Leo moved from New Zealand to Florida. It was the summer of sixth grade and
our connection was instantaneous. I played it cool and tried to rationalize but
I fell just as hard and as fast as Leo had fallen for me.

 By
the beginning of ninth grade, the inescapable attraction between us had become
palpable and when he finally kissed me, I became addicted. We never labeled
ourselves publicly as boyfriend/girlfriend. The title seemed superficial and
temporary. Besides, our relationship was obvious through our inability to be
apart. I simply referred to him as he was, my Leo. Nothing in the past four
years had changed that, until recently.

A
few months ago, I put the flawlessness of our relationship to the test. After my
mother was taken from me my world shattered. Anger and grief grew inside me
until I exploded and pushed everyone away, including Leo. Like any other self
respecting guy with pride, Leo didn’t grovel at my feet or act like an injured
puppy dog. I had asked for space and even though distance between us was not
really what I wanted, Leo had given it. I just needed room to fall apart. I
didn’t want to drag anyone else down with me or feel suffocated.

I
gave no thought on how to pull myself back together.

Technically,
we are no longer a couple but that doesn’t mean things between us are over. It
never really would be with Leo and I. I know that no matter how empty I might
feel inside it will always be Leo’s love my heart asks for.

            I come out
of my bathroom dressed in a lightweight pink pajama set and walk over to where
Leo sits on the corner of my bed.