Was it as good as it was with us?
The voice intruded in her thoughts and was gone before she could fully comprehend what had just happened.
She held his hand, her fingers small inside his larger one.
They were going to fly.
They were at the edge of the cliff.
He turned to her, smiling, his grip tightening on her hand as darkness clouded his eyes.
He couldn’t see her anymore.
Her hand stayed in his, but her body disappeared into the inky blackness.
He called out to her, his voice harsh and angry to his ears.
Twisting this way and that, he searched for her.
Then there was a white light, a beautiful white light, and in the center of it she stood.
Her wings were singed, their white cooled to a light gray, as if she were ill.
He tried to touch her, but she ran from him, ran toward the cliff as if to take flight.
She was trying to fly away, but he couldn’t let her do that. She was his.
He couldn’t let her go, couldn’t let her leave.
Just as he reached her, she tried to fly, panic and fear in her eyes.
He laughed, but it wasn’t his laugh. It was something darker, something evil.
Reaching out, he grabbed her just as she took to the air.
They both fell, his weight too much for her fragile wings, and they tore from her body, hanging by just a single feather.
He laughed as they fell, spiraling out of control.
She turned in his arms and held his face, whispering in his ears even as air rushed past them.
“Wake up, darling, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
“Wake up, Brett. Darling. Wake up.”
Brett stirred, and Cece relaxed. For a minute there, she didn’t think he would come out of the dream at all. He had been in so deep. She clapped her hand to her chest, feeling the cross pendant under it as she tried to still her heart, and hoping he wouldn’t notice the panic in her eyes.
This dream had been so much darker.
Looking in his face, she searched his eyes to see if he still bore traces of that darkness, certain she saw something in his eyes that was wrong, but then it was gone.
“Sorry,” he said. “I keep having these weird dreams.” He was shaking.
Cece nodded at his explanation. “It’s time to get up anyway. Do you want to take a shower?”
“Join me?” he said with a lascivious grin that made her laugh at him. Slapping him playfully on his bare shoulder, she shook her head.
“No time. The kids will be here soon. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Glenn and Meghan were standing outside the store waiting for her when she got there. Unlocking the door, she let the teens inside. They immediately headed back to the tables, followed by the other teens, who came in within minutes of Glenn.
Laine was the last to arrive, and he was acting a little more than suspicious. He nodded to Meghan, whose face lit up before she masked her expression at a glance from Glenn.
Well, that was interesting, Cece thought, observing the way Laine and Meghan kept grinning and giggling, only stopping at puzzled looks from Glenn or one of the other teens.
Brett helped each of the teens with time in the recording studio to work on the music for their individual songs. Everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves, judging by the laughter and jokes that passed between all of them.
Cece put the paper plates on the tables at lunchtime as their meal arrived. The teens were all talking at once, poking and pushing each other playfully, except for Meghan and Laine, who had slipped away and were talking with Brett intently.
He listened with that totally into you way he had—his head tilted slightly, his eyes locked on whoever was speaking, his body relaxed and leaning toward the speaker. It made her feel like she was the only one in his world when he did that to her, so she was sure the teens were feeling the same.
It was a special talent to be able to command the attention of so many young people with so many interests, and yet he handled it all with such grace and fun. He was a natural leader, Cece realized. And part of that was his sincerity and genuine desire to help. His generosity oozed out of him.
He is special, isn’t he? More special than you realize, but you’ll know just how special very soon. Very soon. Very soon.
Cece frowned. The voice was insistent and irresistible. She looked up just as Brett met her gaze. He looked worried, but she waved him off. She was fine, her gesture said, and he returned to the teens, who were asking a lot of questions today.
As they filed out, their hands drumming beats on each other’s shoulders and their notebooks, the teens called out a thank you and left.
The minute the door closed behind them and silence reigned again, Cece realized just how potent silence could be.
“Day two under the belt,” Brett said with an exhausted sigh. “I never realized how much work something like this could be. Those teens never stopped asking questions. But . . . I wouldn’t trade it for anything. This has been fun.”
Cece smiled. “You’re a natural at this. I’m surprised you’ve never done anything like this before.”
Brett chuckled. “I think until this very moment, I never realized I could do this, but it is something I would like to do again.”
He looked at her with an intensity that led Cece to believe he wasn’t just talking about the camp.
She smiled as he suggested they lock things up and head back upstairs.
“My ride’s gone,” he said, his gaze not leaving her face. He reached out and touched her cheek, his finger sliding down to trace her jawline before he leaned in for a kiss.
She didn’t say no.
Day three found the teens excitedly comparing lyrics and songs. Meghan, bless her, was a willing participant in the singing part of the practices, as she was going to sing pretty much everyone’s song if they weren’t singing themselves. Cece had to admit the shy girl had a beautiful voice.
She and Brett were both so exhausted when the day ended that they fell into bed, sleeping the whole night through without any more disturbing dreams, for which she was grateful. That last one had taken a lot out of her.
Brett seemed so much happier, and she had hopes that she was going to be able to help him. Looking at him sleeping next to her, she sighed with contentment. His arm lying across her chest was both comforting and solid.
She traced the dragon tattoo on his back with her finger, marveling at the intricacy of the design. His ability to withstand pain must be high, she thought, remembering how her ankle had burned for days when she’d had her small tattoo done. He’d told her he thought her halo was perfect because she was “his angel,” and he would have picked that exact tattoo if it had been up to him.
Snuggling next to him, his breath tickling her shoulder, she sighed, thinking she’d never been so happy. He stirred, and leaning into her, he kissed her, pulling her on top of him and sighing with happiness when they were done.
“I’ll love you forever,” he said, touching her nose with the tip of his finger.
“Same,” she said with a large smile. He traced her lips with his finger before leaning in for a kiss that took her breath away. Then, with a big yawn, he settled back in and pulled her closer.
She was so happy, she ignored the voice that whispered to her as she fell into sleep. Enjoy your sleep now, my beautiful bird, for soon you will sleep no more.
Catching the Dream
(Pink Melon: One Time More)
Written and sung by Brett Rhys-Falwyck
Before the dreamers
there were the hopers
Before the hopers
there were the hopeless
When the dream becomes the thing that holds you back
you gotta dust yourself off and get rid of the slack
Nothing should come between
the hopers and the dream
Take the dream to the next level
&nbs
p; Pull up them socks and hustle
Get out and make things go
before you are six feet below
When the dream becomes the thing that holds you back
you gotta dust yourself off and get rid of the slack
Nothing should come between
the hopers and the dream
Into the void of what you don’t know
That is where all lost dreams go
Jump in with both feet
Never accept defeat
When the dream becomes the thing that holds you back
you gotta dust yourself off and get rid of the slack
Nothing should come between
the hopers and the dream
If you fail, if you lose, if you make no change
nothing’s lost, you just take the dream and rearrange
Hold your heart out for all to see
The dream will keep its purity
When the dream becomes the thing that holds you back
you gotta dust yourself off and get rid of the slack
Nothing should come between
the hopers and the dream
Chapter 18
Day four dawned, and the teens’ excitement jumped forward exponentially. Tonight was the concert.
They had a few hours to practice their songs, and then they were to break so they could go home and change into their clothes for the performance.
After gathering their things, the teens left, still talking animatedly with Brett, except for Laine and Meghan, who asked if they could have one more time in the studio.
“Why?” Cece said, looking at them with a puzzled expression. “Didn’t you get enough time to practice already?”
“This isn’t our song for the show, well, not exactly,” Meghan stammered.
Cece looked at her and said, “Meghan, what are you and Laine up to?”
Looking to Laine for permission, which he gave with a nod of his head, she said with a huge grin, “Today is Glenn’s birthday, and we’re going to sing a song I wrote for him. Don’t tell him, okay?”
“So that’s what the two of you were working on all those times you were in the studio together.” Cece slapped her forehead to emphasize how stupid she was. “I should have realized that.”
“So can we?”
“Yes, Meghan, this is a wonderful idea. He’ll love it.”
Meghan and Laine scrambled into the studio and began to play their song. Glenn walked back in just as they finished and saw Meghan hug Laine. The look on his face immediately grew dark and angry. Before Cece could catch him, he ran back out and down the street. By the time she got around the counter and out the door, he was driving away, too fast for her to catch him.
Calling him, she wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail. She asked him to call her. Not sure if she should spoil Meghan’s surprise or not, she didn’t tell him the reason why he needed to call her.
Brett came back in just as Meghan and Laine left. Without a word to Cece, he went upstairs. She watched him go, surprised at how stiff he was walking and wondering why.
She followed him upstairs and dressed quickly. He kissed her gently, his eyes promising so much more later that night.
“I’ll meet you at the Annex, got an errand to run first. See you there.” Then he was downstairs and out of the shop before she could catch her breath.
The silence descended over her like a shroud, and Cece shivered, feeling something dark moving in that silence.
Greg Granite smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. It barely reached his lips, but inside, he was grinning.
Amanda shivered. Her compulsion to do as he bid her was wasting her away. Like her two companions, she was unable to shake the spell woven by Greg Granite that had forced her to sleep with the rock star and forge his signature on the documents that now lay before them on the table.
In his hand, Greg Granite held a knife, the same knife he’d been holding to her throat for the last half hour. Every time he laughed, he let the knife slip just a little on her skin, then he would lick the knife and smack his lips like he was eating a fine meal.
She could feel the blood running down her throat to pool just below the collar of her pristine white shirt, slowly staining it crimson.
“Won’t be long now, my beauty, before this is all over.”
Amanda wasn’t sure if he meant her, or this mysterious woman he called Cecelia.
Amanda glanced out the corner of her eye at her two friends, Mark and Joe, both of whom bore equal marks on their necks, with blood slowly coagulating on their wounds. They met her gaze with wide eyes, and in them, she saw the same fear she felt. What was happening? How did things get this way?
Greg Granite had come to Forthright a few months ago with an influx of cash and a very persuasive argument, and talked himself into a partnership with their elderly owner, Graham Chadwick. Upon Mr. Chadwick’s unexpected death from a heart attack, Greg had taken ownership of the company, and that’s when things started to go bad.
At first, Amanda had found his attention flattering, and then it became weird really quickly. Dinners where she would go home with no memory of anything after the main course and find bruises all over her body. Wine that tasted like blood, and strange conversations she would overhear between Mr. Granite and someone else, someone he only referred to as “Mr. X.” And then there was the campaign to ruin Pink Melon and capture Brett Rhys-Falwyck in an unbreakable contract.
“Do you understand what is about to happen?” he asked her with a smile. A gleeful smile, she thought. One that made her shiver with relief that she wasn’t the one he was after.
Amanda shook her head, trying not to whimper as he brought the knife closer to her throat once more. He leaned in, his sulfur-scented breath nearly making her gag and throw up her lunch, but she held onto herself, just barely.
“Oh, of course you don’t. How could you? You aren’t like us.” He said nothing else, just continued to cackle and carve her neck like she was a prize steak he wanted to savor. And savor he did. Her blood seemed to be the main course on his menu.
When Cece arrived at the Annex, she was pleased to see it was crowded with teens, parents, and other members of the community. She nodded to several people she knew as she made her way backstage to where all the teens were waiting to take their turns on stage.
Glenn wasn’t there.
“Okay, everyone, gather here,” Brett said. He gestured for the group to stand near him. They complied, nervous giggles and shifting feet sure signs of the butterflies in their stomachs. Cece couldn’t blame them.
“Where’s Glenn?” Brett called out.
“Here,” Glenn said from the background.
Cece made her way over to him, but when she gestured for him to join the rest, he shook his head in refusal and turned his back to her, as if checking on the audience.
Cece reached out and touched him on the shoulder, but he shrugged her off. “Glenn, I have something to tell you, something you might like to know.”
Glenn opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when Brett stepped out on the stage and addressed the audience.
“Hello, everyone. Thank you for being here tonight to support these very talented teens. First, I would like to thank a few people for their assistance with the camp.” Brett read from a list of names on his paperwork. “Without further ado, I would like to bring out our first duo to perform their original song, ‘Special Day,’ written and sung by Meghan Gonzalez, with Laine Greenhill on the guitar.”
Brett clapped, encouraging the audience to follow suit.
Glenn snorted and started to turn away when Meghan spoke into the microphone.
“Hello, everyone. I am super excited to be here because tonight is the very special day of a very special friend of mine. I wrote this song with Laine to wish a happy birthday to Glenn Johnson, everyone. Come on out here, Glenn.”
Glenn looked sheepishly at Cece, his cheeks flooding with color. She smiled and pushe
d him onto the stage.
Meghan pulled a stool over and asked him to sit. With a nod to Laine, she sang her song to him, promising to love him forever. Glenn couldn’t take his eyes off her.
At the end of the song, while the audience applauded and whistled, he pulled Meghan into his arms and kissed her.
Brett stepped up to the microphone after first whispering something to Meghan and Glenn that caused them both to blush. They were still blushing as they left the stage.
Glenn looked at Cece as he passed her and stopped. Meghan stopped, too. Her grip on Glenn’s hand tightened, as if she was afraid to let him go.
“Meghan, don’t you have to sing with Elle on the next song?” Cece asked.
“Oh yeah, guess I’d better go.” She kissed Glenn on the lips before returning to the stage.
As each teen took the stage in turn, Cece was impressed by their songs and their talents. So much talent.
Brett joined in on guitar with each of the solos, and when it came to the last performance, each of the students came back on stage to lend their guitar or their voice to the finale.
Cece, face shining with happiness, couldn’t stop clapping.
As the final note rang out, Brett pointed to each of the teens who took a bow and then they pointed to Brett for more applause.
Brett, blushing, waved his hands for everyone to stop, and the audience became silent.
Without a microphone, Brett started to speak. “Thank you. There’s a pretty talented group of folks on this stage, isn’t there?”
A few shouts came from the audience that caused some chuckles and a smattering of claps, and Brett waved everyone to silence again. He’d slung his guitar back over his chest and strummed a few chords while he spoke.
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