Rock Me Gently_A Havenwood Falls Novel

by Susan Burdorf

  Looking up, she whispered, “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know what you expect me to do. Guide me.”

  But there was nothing.

  “Ms. Amundson?” said a male voice from behind her.

  Cece turned to see Laine standing there with a nearly unconscious Meghan in his arms. He was holding her up, his hands on her upper arms all that were keeping her from falling to the ground. There was blood on her face, and a gash on her lip that was slowly oozing dark blood. Blood way too dark to be from a simple wound.

  Cece grabbed Meghan before she fell when Laine let her go.

  “I didn’t mean to do it,” he sobbed. “I don’t know how it happened.”

  In his eyes, Cece saw fear, as if he had done something he couldn’t fix.

  “Meghan!” Glenn was at her side in two seconds and shoving Laine into the street.

  “What did you do? What did you do? I’ll kill you for this.” Glenn threw his fists up, and Cece, unable to intervene because of the girl in her arms, watched in horror as Glenn went for the other boy.

  And then, when it seemed the two would come to blows, for Laine had put up his arms in defense against the forthcoming attack, Glenn was lifted off his feet and set backwards. Brett stood between them.

  “How about we take this off the street, and you gentlemen both come inside, and we’ll figure out what happened? Glenn, you first.”

  Glenn, his face angry and red, moved toward the door, casting evil glances back at Laine the whole time.

  “Laine, you next. Glenn, you go to that corner. Laine over there. Everyone else? Thank you for coming by, but please leave now. Show’s over.”

  The kids dispersed quickly, and Cece marveled at how easily Brett was able to gain control of the situation. In her arms, Meghan moaned.

  Zoey, looking at Meghan with concern, said, “Can I help?”

  “Yes, thank you, Zoey. Would you get Dr. Underwood?”

  Zoey was gone and Dr. Underwood was at the shop in no time to bandage Meghan’s wounds. She hadn’t said a word to anyone about what had happened, and while she was being cared for—a few quick patches on the deeper wound and she was good—the boys glared at each other.

  Dr. Underwood left, declining payment and saying he wanted to get out for some coffee anyway and check to see if there were still any blueberry scones to be had. Once the door closed behind him, Brett looked at the two boys and then Meghan, and sighed.

  “Someone had better talk, or I am going to draw my own conclusions,” said Brett when the silence seemed to stretch on forever.

  “What did you do to Meghan?” growled Glenn, his eyes daggers of hate.

  “He didn’t do anything,” Meghan said with a great sigh. She was shaking, and Cece moved closer to her to see if the girl was cold. “He was helping me.”

  “Helping you? What happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Meghan said with lowered eyes.

  “Meghan,” said Glenn softly as he moved toward her, “you can tell us. No matter what happened, you can tell us about it.”

  “I . . . I fell?”

  “Did you fall?” Brett asked, the disbelief in his tone reflecting Cece’s feelings.

  “Meghan, you’d better tell them the truth, or I think Glenn might jump me in a dark alley,” Laine said.

  Glenn looked over at Laine, who just shrugged.

  “I don’t blame you,” Laine said to Glenn. “If I had a great girlfriend like Meghan, I would fight for her, too.”

  “I was walking over here,” Meghan said, “and I walked by the mouth of an alley, and there were some guys in there. They grabbed me and told me to give them my money, but I didn’t have enough, so they started pushing me. I slipped on the ice and fell, and then Laine saw them, and he got me out of there.”

  “Who were they?” Cece asked in alarm, her eyes immediately going outside.

  “I don’t know. They didn’t look familiar, and it was dark in the alley. I didn’t really see them. I was too scared to look.”

  “I figured I should bring her here first. I wasn’t sure where else to go with her,” Laine said.

  “You did the right, Laine,” Cece reassured him. “Thank you for being there and for helping Meghan.”

  “Yeah, thank you,” said Glenn reluctantly when Cece tossed him a look.

  Glenn got up, and with a look at both Cece and Brett, he advanced toward Laine with his hand out.

  “Thank you,” he said more sincerely.

  “I think Meghan needs to go home,” Cece said, standing. “Glenn, will you take Laine and Meghan home? I think I need to talk to Sheriff Kasun about this attack on you, Meghan, so he might want to talk to you later. But for now, I think going home is the best medicine we can give you.”

  The three teens nodded, and Glenn left with his arm around Meghan’s shoulder. The look that passed between the two boys walking on either side of Meghan was both territorial and friendly.

  Cece called Sheriff Kasun, who stopped by a short while later to get her report. She asked him not to talk to Meghan until tomorrow.

  “Give her time to recover,” she begged him, and he nodded agreement.

  Sheriff Kasun thanked Cece for the information and promised to find the perpetrators and let her know when he did. Cece nodded and showed him out, locking the door behind the sheriff.

  Then she realized she and Brett were alone again. She cleared her throat. “Shall we work on the agenda? Or would you like to get some dinner?”

  “Dinner? What time is it?”

  “Six.”

  “Already? Dinner, then,” Brett said as his stomach suddenly rumbled loud enough that both of them heard it.

  They decided to have dinner at the country club. Walking with the town lit up with twinkling lights on the shops and buildings, Brett couldn’t help but feel like he was in a fairy tale.

  All we need now, he thought, is the big bad wolf.

  Quicker Than My Heartbeat

  (Bonus track, Brett Rhys-Falwyck solo album: Oceans)

  Written and sung by Brett Rhys-Falwyck

  I held the heart of a woman

  until I let it go

  Held it close and tight

  until I let it go

  She trusted me with her greatest treasure

  and I lost it

  She warned me of the ways this would go

  and I lost it

  Quicker than my heartbeat she was gone

  never seen again

  I looked for her in all the places, but she was

  never seen again

  I lost my reason, I lost my mind

  once upon a time

  The fairytale love story was over

  once upon a time

  Chapter 14

  “Well, would you like to come in for some cocoa?” Cece offered when they returned to the store later that evening. Unlocking the door, she looked over her shoulder to see Brett staring off into the distance with a wistful look on his face. Her breath caught at how beautiful he was.

  His melancholy was a dark shadow on his soul. She could feel it in his every breath, how that despair was slowly spreading through his body. Every deep moment was giving him over to the darkness. She needed to fill his life with light and love and happiness if she was to save him.

  Too late, you’re too late. I’ve found you. It won’t be long now. My retribution will come. You will pay. You will all pay.

  Cece shivered as Brett turned to look at her. In his eyes, she saw something burning, something dark and not human. And then it was gone, and she wondered if she saw it at all when he smiled at her.

  “Hey,” he said, “cocoa sounds like the perfect ending to a really awesome day.”

  Cece smiled, opened the door, and ushered him in ahead of her.

  Walking up the stairs, she led Brett to her humble apartment. It was sparse, with barely any furniture and wood floors that gleamed from her weekly cleanings. A sofa, large and comfortable, sat on a braided rug in a multitu
de of reds, blues, and yellows, her favorite colors—red for love, blue for faith, and yellow for sunshine.

  She had a bookcase filled to overflowing with so many books and a small flat-screen TV set in a corner. Cece led him to the dining room and invited him to sit in one of the four chairs at the small table. A bedroom was to the left of the dining room, where colorful quilts rested on her bed. There was a dresser and a small bathroom farther into the room. Fluffy pillows and shams decorated the bed in solids of red, blue, and yellow, a recurring theme in the décor.

  Off to the right of the dining room was a small kitchen with a refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher, along with several floor-to-ceiling cabinets in dark wood. Yellow curtains covered the two windows, one over the sink and the other near the last set of cabinets. They faced the street.

  Rather than taking the seat she’d offered, Brett followed her into the kitchen.

  “Marshmallows?” he asked when they were done with the cocoa preparations and the beverage was cooling in tall mugs with pictures of puppies on them.

  “Top shelf, third cabinet,” Cece responded, taking their cups into the other room.

  Brett found the marshmallows and grabbed the bag. Sitting across from her in the dining room, he occupied his time stirring his cocoa and squirting on whipped cream while sneaking glances at her.

  With fine-boned cheeks and a pretty upturned nose, she had bright gray-blue eyes and a small bow-shaped mouth that made him think of how nice it would be to kiss her.

  “So,” Cece said, putting her cup on the table after taking one sip. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

  “Ski?” Brett said, remembering the conversation on the plane and wanting, for his own satisfaction, to prove the old lady wrong.

  “Hmmm . . . I haven’t skied in a while, but I suppose we can try it.”

  “We?”

  “Sure, I’ll come with you,” she said casually. “Can’t have you falling and breaking your neck or slamming into a tree.”

  “Great,” Brett said, and he meant it. He found his heart quickening at the thought of skiing with her by his side. He envisioned them gracefully gliding from the top of the mountain to the bottom without falling even once.

  “Have you skied before?” Cece asked.

  “Um . . . no, but how hard can it be?” Brett said confidently.

  Cece chuckled. “It’s not the skiing that’s hard. It’s the landing.”

  Brett gulped, pretending it was because the cocoa was hot. He glanced up at her, and they both burst into laughter.

  Her laugh, Brett thought, a lump in his chest lightening a little, is amazing.

  Then he felt his chest tighten again, and he had to look away. His hand gripped the mug so hard, he thought he might break the ceramic, but he couldn’t let go. It was burning his hand, but he was unable to release the mug.

  Cece was at his side in a second. She put her hand, cool and smooth, on his and whispered something he couldn’t quite catch, and his hand finally, reluctantly released the mug.

  “I’m sorry,” Brett whispered. “I’m not sure what happened. I couldn’t let it go.”

  “It’s okay.” Cece’s voice was soothing, and Brett felt himself relaxing. He leaned into her shoulder and in seconds felt himself drifting off.

  “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me,” he whispered into her hair, which smelled of jasmine and summertime. “I’m so tired.”

  Just before Morpheus claimed him, Brett thought he heard her whisper, her breath like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing on his cheek, “Sleep now, my dream lover,” but before he could ask her what she’d said, his eyes closed, and he remembered nothing else.

  He was there again, only this time he didn’t remember walking.

  Looking around the clearing, he saw the rock glinting silver in the moonlight.

  She stood next to him, and any doubts he’d had before were gone. She was definitely Cece.

  He had wings, just like hers, only they were a soft light gray while hers were brilliant white.

  He reached for her, and she took his hand, and then suddenly the sky overhead, which had been blue and perfect just moments before, became dark. Lightning shot through it, and his hand in hers tightened even as she tried to free herself.

  She whimpered like a bird caught in the jaws of a tiger.

  He looked around wildly, trying to let her go, but unable to break the connection.

  She was his, no one else’s, and he wasn’t going to let her go.

  He felt his eyes roll back in his head. His beautiful white gown became blood red, and his wings, his beautiful gray wings, became black. No, not black. They were darker than black, shot through with blood-red lines that pulsed and throbbed and . . . lived. They lived.

  He felt himself turning to her, a grin so wide it split his face.

  “I’m back, darling. Did you miss me?”

  And then his mouth opened wide, and he screamed, a horrible scream, the pain so great he felt himself falling out of himself.

  Then he heard the scream, and the sound of bones breaking, and—

  “Shhh . . . Brett, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s gone. The dream is gone. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

  Brett opened his eyes slowly, afraid to look, afraid to see if he’d hurt her.

  “What’s happening to me?”

  Cece didn’t answer. She just kept rocking him until he fell back to sleep, to dream no more that night.

  In the darkness, she heard a deep laugh that chilled her to the very bone.

  How could he have found me here? I was so careful.

  Clarity

  (Brett Rhys-Falwyck solo album: Oceans)

  Written and sung by Brett Rhys-Falwyck

  In between yesterday and today

  there lies a twist of fate

  a moment of clarity

  that makes time still

  where choices don’t matter

  decisions aren’t made

  lives don’t change

  nothing bad happens

  When time rolls around again

  clarity is lost to reality

  payments come due

  good and bad are battles

  Winning doesn’t mean you win

  Losing doesn’t mean you lose

  Choices don’t mean you choose

  Clarity takes away all doubt

  Chapter 15

  Brett woke in a strange bed and found Cece lying next to him. His mouth was as dry as a desert, and he knew he must not only stink, but his breath must smell worse than a skunk in heat.

  Covering his mouth, he breathed into his hand and grimaced. Yeah, maybe two skunks in heat. Both without having had a bath in a month.

  Lying back into the pillow, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered why he felt like he’d run a marathon or two. His body was exhausted, and he hadn’t done anything. At least, he thought he hadn’t. He pulled his waistband away from his skin and groaned. Nope, he hadn’t done anything.

  How had he let a whole night slip by in a beautiful woman’s bed, without trying to take advantage of her? How had that happened?

  He carefully rolled off the bed, relieved to find his boots were still by the door. He would slip downstairs and out of the store before Glenn or anyone else got here. He’d sneak out and get them both coffee and act like he hadn’t just spent the night with her without having spent the night with her. What kind of reputation would he get after this? A rock star and a beautiful angel like her, and he didn’t try to bed her?

  Craziness.

  And then, looking at her beautiful face in slumber, he thought, I could climb right back in that bed and right that wrong pretty quickly. But then he stopped. She looked so beautiful, he just couldn’t stand to wake her.

  This must be how Prince Charming felt looking at Sleeping Beauty, he thought, except I am no Prince Charming, Disney version or not. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he missed when she woke.

  “Hey,” he said, “sorry about bei
ng such a lousy house guest. Fell asleep.”

  Cece rose from the bed in one fluid movement that stilled his heart, it was so beautiful. “No worries, I could see you were exhausted and thought you might like the bed instead of the couch. You are a little too tall for my couch.”

  She smiled.

  How can she look so beautiful first thing in the morning? Most women he knew needed hours to get ready to face the day, but here she was, looking like she’d just been to a spa and gotten the works done. Her skin was translucent, like pearls, it was so clear and white. Her hair looked like she’d just finished brushing it, with only a few strands out of place. Most women he saw in the morning had hair like rats had slept in it after a night with him, and yet she was magazine-model perfect.

  “How do you do it?” he whispered to her in awe.

  “Do what?” she asked, confused about the question.

  “Look so perfect first thing in the morning?”

  She laughed.

  “Breakfast?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  She walked to the bathroom and closed the door. He heard water running and the toilet flushing, and then she returned. She’d changed her clothes into a different pair of jeans and a soft pink plaid shirt that complemented her skin perfectly.

  She slipped on her boots, and he followed her downstairs.

  “I have to wait for Glenn to get here, but then we can go to Coffee Haven and get some of that delicious brew and hopefully some scones fresh out of the oven.”

  “That sounds like heaven,” Brett said with a deep chuckle, appreciating her idea for breakfast one hundred percent.