Stronger Than Me

Chapter 1

  "Hey baby, I need you to call Tawny to pick you up or let you use her car and come downtown to get me. I'm at Red's Bar, my truck broke down again. And hurry up, I'm tired as shit. Thanks, baby."

Kennedy stared at her cell, tempted, oh so damn tempted to place it carefully on the floor and stomp the little black bearer of bad and worse news beneath the worn out heel of her boots. But that would only mean she was out a couple hundred dollars she just didn't have. Damn the man to hell and back. Closing her eyes she fought back the burning behind her lids. She's sworn she was never going to cry over Darryl Carter again. A stupid promise she's never been able to keep while living together. She could've left, should've left a long time ago. Just said fuck it to the last twelve years and everything they had supposedly built up together while preparing to marry. Thank the Good Lord that day had never come. Darryl had been too lazy to drag his ass down to the courthouse to get a license, and there had never been enough money for a wedding.

Yeah, all they managed to build was a pile of debt and in Kennedy's case, a raging case of broken heart. Darryl wasn't capable of making adult decisions; not rational ones. There was always some kind of scheme or big plans that never panned out. He was always working on something big, something that would make their lives easier. Just as soon as he had the capital, as soon as he could get a loan, as soon as he could get together the right partners, location, equipment—the list never ended.

Meanwhile, Kennedy was working one full time and two part-time jobs, trying to keep their heads above water. She'd given up even trying to pay for extras like basic cable or even the newspaper subscription. They needed the phone in case the "big call" came. From who, Kennedy had given up trying to figure out a long time ago. They needed a three bedroom house because Darryl needed a room for his office and another to work on his music because that was his fallback plan. A music contract that was never going to come unless he learns to sing on key or at least learn to play the instruments he'd had to have. But rent was cheap and even though it would've been cheaper to stay in a one bedroom, nothing was in her name.

Thinking back over the long line of events that's led her to this place just didn't do any good. She'd believed Darryl when he told her he'd take care of her after her parents died and there'd been nowhere to go and no one to turn to. In the beginning, he really had. But somewhere, somehow things had turned and she found it was her taking care of him instead of the other way around. She'd spent so much time, in the beginning, trying to repay him for giving her a place to stay in any way she could, he'd stop trying, stopped working, stopped being a damn man.

Yeah, she could call Tawny alright; whom Kennedy suspected might just be sleeping with Darryl given the time the two spent together while she was at work. Call Tawny while packing her shit and walking away. If only she could bear the humiliation; her pride simply wouldn't allow her to beg someone to allow her to stay at their place until she could find a home of her own. Besides, her so-called family had all turned away after the death of her parents, offering her nothing but a pat on the head. They knew she had nothing, and not one of them had given her so much of a sympathy card. She'd taken one hell of an emotional beating already, she didn't think she could take the questions or the pity, or, hell the I-told-you-so's would make her want to curl up in a little ball and hide from the world. Besides, she had done this to her life, damn it, she would dig herself out of the Olympic pool-sized whole even if it killed her.

It just might, her tired body screamed as she flipped through the numbers on her phone. Leave him there; make him find his own damn way home. Oh, how she was tempted. The only reason she allowed her fingers to press Tawny's name was the specter of one of her many male cousins happening upon Darryl' favorite watering hole. She really didn't need to hear more shit from her family about her life choices. Yeah, she had made a colossal mistake, her bad. Not like any one of them could do a damn thing to help. They would just shake their collective heads and ask. Tawny at least would keep her mouth shut, having finally just crawled out of her very own shit hole.

Thirty minutes later she was driving towards what the small southern town called downtown. In reality, it was little more than a strip from one of the major highways that ran straight through Georgia and just happened to run through the center of town. Roberta, Georgia wasn't exactly the cultural mecca. Salty tears made a slow trek down her face despite her best efforts to keep them at bay. There was a time when she swore she would claw her way out of this place one way or another. The dreams she'd once had about how her life was going to turn out. She'd flushed them all but good hadn't she? And for what?

Once she walked these streets head high, chest out. She was smart, pretty, and dating one of Roberta's finest offerings. He was even going to the junior college in Fort Valley. She'd thought when she graduated they would go together. But life just has a way of kicking you in the teeth, didn't it? Both her parents had been killed in a house fire right after she received her diploma. Kennedy had been at Tawny's at the time, which had saved her life. While her cousin had offered, there was no way Kennedy could stay with her at the time. Tawny's ex-husband had been a little too vocal about how much he'd enjoy having her there. Kick her in the head for being all kinds of a fool, but she'd let Darryl talk her out of the modest insurance policy. He was going to start a contracting business; fix up some of the old houses and business in the county, maybe get a contract with one of the major home improvement stores.

He'd bought a truck, some tools and pissed the rest away. Not that she'd been blameless. When Kennedy thought back to the trip to Atlanta, the clothes she'd bought but never had any place to wear, the gadgets and gizmos, the cute little sports car she couldn't afford to get fixed. What a blind idiot she'd been. In the beginning, it had been feast or famine, more famine than feast. She hadn't seen the harm or damage she was doing until it was too late until they'd sunk so far down she couldn't see a way up.

Pulling up to Red's, she made sure to carefully pat the wetness away from her face, applying a little face powder and lip gloss. Appearances were everything to Darryl. Everybody and their dog knew what a sorry, lazy no account the man was, but he had never quite figured that out. He honestly believed all those people smiling in his face were his friends and no one knew they didn't have two nickels to rub together. Hell, she had three jobs while he couldn't be bothered to work up enough energy to find work...upon occasion anyway.

Kennedy had to swallow the bile that threatened to erupt. Her grandmamma used to warn against calling anybody a fool, but damn! How blind could one person be? The town had the total population of a little over eight hundred damn people. Someone not knowing your business was about as rare as a Big Foot sighting, but then again, Darryl swore he saw one once. It took a few minutes to squash the anger and disgust enough to walk into the dimly-lit bar.

She didn't have to look for Darryl. The grating sound of his cackling laugh hit her eardrums as soon as she walked in. He was sitting in the corner near the back, flanked by two men too polite to call him on whatever bullshit he was spitting out. Fuck! Of all the people for Darryl to be hanging out with, it just had to be Byron and Emory Daniels. The pair of them had joined the Marines back when she was in junior high and quickly became town legends. Not because of any war they might have been in, but they had pooled their money and bought out half the viable businesses in the county—not just the town.

The duo was actually half brothers, though it was never discussed out in the open Byron being black and Emory being lily white. Their daddy wasn't the discriminating type, shocking old ladies into a coma by openly dating whoever the hell he pleased and spreading his seed just as generously. Rumor had it he'd been run out of town by many an irate daddy back when both men were babies. Roberta was a backward little place at times.

Kennedy knew both men had returned a few months back. It had even made the papers. She hadn't seen either man though, not that she'd want to. Whereas once she might have teased and flirted, now she just hid in the shotgun house she and Darryl rented. It saved her from running into anyone Darryl might've owed money to, or more importantly any of her many cousins and aunts.

"Hey baby, come on over here!" Shit. Darryl was drunk. His words not so much slurring as running together to over exaggerate his slow, lazy drawl. "You ain't gonna believe this shit."

Kennedy's stomach dropped. Her steps were heavy as she slowly made her way to the table. She really hadn't wanted to stick around here. She'd worked the midnight to seven shift at the gas station, and then gone straight to her part-time job at the grocery store, where she's been on her feet for five hours straight. All she wanted was some sleep before the nightmare that was her life started all over again. The bills weren't going to pay themselves and Darryl hadn't worked in over a month. He kept telling her there were "things in the fire". All she heard was more money stomping out the front door.

She made her way to the table, mentally reminding herself to keep her head up, spine straight. It was a damn shame she had to remind herself to do that. She looked Byron and Emory directly in the eye and wished like hell she hadn't. They'd been cute older boys when she was little, now they were full grown and drop dead freaking gorgeous. She stifled the urge to try to hide the boots that had seen better days or cross her arms over the sweater she was wearing to hide the obvious age and wear.

The Marines had taken prime male specimens and turned them into a living, breathing status of Greeks gods. Byron's hazel eyes swept her figure in a quick assessment before he caught himself. Obviously what he's seen made him pity her, and damn it that was something she really didn't need. She could keep her cool when people whispered when she walked by, ignore the knowing smirks and stare down anyone daring to throw a disapproving frown in her direction. The one thing she couldn't fight back at was a pity; a wasted emotion that stuck in her craw and made her want to throw up whenever she actually remembered to eat. She glared right back at him, letting him know just what he could do with his damn pity. She had no need for it.

Emory, on the other hand never let his amber eyes waver from her face. She didn't detect he felt sorry for her, but then he could've been better at hiding it than his brother. She was shocked when he actually got out of his seat when she made it to the table, holding out the chair next to him.

Wasn't expecting that one.

"Baby, Emory here decided to go into business with us, you know fixing houses and shit."

Kennedy winced but managed to bite her tongue. Damn, one more person she was going to have to be sure to avoid in the future after the money had dried up and there were no construction jobs.

"That's, uh..." Wait, did Darryl just say "us"? "Did you say us?" She directed the question squarely at Darryl. Oh hell no! She wasn't getting involved in his shit. She finally had money going into her secret account three towns over. She was not quitting any of her jobs to help Darryl do a damn thing.

"Yeah baby, Emory, and Byron own the gas station, the grocery store and it ain't like the pizza place is gonna miss you none."

Just like that. He really believed he could just decide her life over some beers with two men she didn't even know well.

"No." Kennedy stood, not really caring who was watching or what they'd say about it. "I'm not quitting any of my jobs for whatever hare-brained scheme you've suckered these poor bastards into." And if they didn't appreciate being called bastards, they'd get over it. She really couldn't be bothered to care. By all that's holy she'd reached her limit. She wasn't going down this road again.

"Shit Kennedy, don't get your panties in a bunch. Why don't you sit the hell down and listen for once?" Darryl was actually pouting. Pouting like some toddler.

"No, I won't."

Let him find his own damn way home. She was tired; she was going home and going to bed.