Rock My Body (Black Falcon #4) (5 page)

People say there can be no light without darkness. It’s a nice quote and all, but I’m convinced it’s just a load of shit people love to hang onto so they feel better. There’s been more darkness in my life than I care to admit, but light? There’s been no trace of that in a long time.

I watch silently as fat raindrops pound against the window of the train. This—starting over—is a good thing, and has been my main goal since I started my journey to straighten myself up. I’ve already completed the first two phases of my plan: admitting I had a problem, and taking a stand to overcome it while getting my degree in psychology. Now I’m moving on to the third stage: helping others conquer their personal struggles, too.

It’s my new mission.

“Excuse me?”

My eyes drift away from the window to the man standing in the aisle next to me, wearing what I assume to be a very expensive tailored suit. He’s clean-shaven; his dark hair is neatly styled. Stunning blue eyes and a perfectly white smile complete this alluring package before me.

If I were still the old me, I would give him my best flirty smile and, despite the gold band on his left hand, I would’ve invited him to sit down. But I’m trying hard to forget that woman. Absurdly handsome men who never really gave a damn about me are my biggest weakness—a weakness I’m desperate to break away from. Messing around with unavailable men with no hint of remorse was how I knew I had problems: hurting people in order to get my fix is something I did for years. The thought alone is shaming. It got to the point where sex was no longer just a physical escape, but an addiction, too. Like I would die if I didn’t have it.

I blink a couple of times, bringing myself out of my thoughts while I do my best to repress my inner flirt. I notice the man’s still standing there wearing a mischievous grin. “Yes?”

The stranger’s grin widens. “Is this seat taken?”

I lick my lips and swallow hard as the temptation to invite him to snuggle now and fuck later in the bathroom crosses my mind. But as I’ve learned through my own psychological studies on resisting temptation, no matter how hard it may seem at the time, it’s far better than dealing with the fallout of giving in.

I set my purse in the seat. “It is.”

The man frowns and takes one last look at my long legs and voluptuous chest before he nods and continues down the aisle to find a seat.

As soon as he’s out of sight, I breathe a sigh of relief and allow my head to fall back against the seat. Annie would’ve been proud, although she wouldn’t have approved of how I was living my life to begin with. If she would’ve been there, things might not have gotten so out of control in the first place.

The train begins pulling away from the station, and I pull out my phone, flipping through my pictures until I find one of her. My fingers press against the screen as I trace the features of her beautiful face. As identical twins, people always said we looked alike, but other than that, there weren’t many similarities between us.

Annie was so vibrant; her blue eyes were always so alive with wonder and hope, while mine were dull, filled with dread and despair. She was so optimistic about life, while I was the queen of pessimism. Physically, our bodies were identical—long legs with hour-glass figures like our mother, blue eyes like our father—but our spirits were polar opposites, so I never got why people lumped us together as the same person.

“I miss you,” I whisper only loud enough for me to hear, before I kiss my two fingers and press it to her smile.

I quickly lock the screen and stuff my phone back into my purse, picking up the pamphlet for the posh facility I’ll be working at. Serenity Hills: Recovery for the Mind, Body, and Soul. When I interviewed last month, the director of the place, Dr. Wayne Shepherd, had gotten me excited to be involved with their program and their mission of helping individuals become the absolute best person they can be.

After nearly eight hours, the train slows as it approaches Cincinnati, the nearest town to Serenity Hills, I begin gathering my belongings and stuffing the books and pamphlets I’d been reading into my handbag. The man who approached me earlier on the train stands and turns toward me, offering a final wink in my direction before heading out of the car. He’s leaving the door open if I wanted to follow him, I guess.

I take a deep breath and stand, straightening my shoulders and tilting my chin up as I walk in the opposite direction of the handsome man. Every day that I fight against giving into my addiction, it becomes a little easier to walk away from temptation.

Once off the train, I search around in the crowd for my ride. It doesn’t take me long to spot the doctor who interviewed me. He’s just as I remembered him; tall, broad-shouldered, with neatly trimmed graying-hair and an athletic build—probably from running. Dr. Shepherd has that whole “distinguished” thing happening, and it totally works for him.

Dr. Shepherd smiles as his gaze locks on mine. He extends his hand in greeting as I approach him, and I set my bag down to shake his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Dr. Shepherd.”

“Wayne, please, Ms. Mead.” His smile is sincere.

“In that case, you can call me Frannie.” I want to roll my eyes at myself for sounding so much like a lame-o.

Wayne picks up my bag and ushers me toward the parking lot. “Did you have a good trip? I must say picking someone up from the train station is a first for me. Most people travel by plane or car these days.”

I shrug, not wanting to reveal my issue with flying just yet, so I give the best excuse I can come up with. “I prefer it. It’s relaxing and flying isn’t that much shorter in the long run.”

Wayne nods as he leads me to a black Mercedes. “I can appreciate a woman who knows what she likes and doesn’t. Flying
is
overrated, I suppose, with its cramped seats and germ-filled cabins.” The amused tone in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, and I smile, glad that he’s accepted my rationale so easily.

Once Wayne places my bag in the trunk, he escorts me to the passenger side where he proceeds to open my door and help me inside. As I watch him walk around the car, I notice how attractive he is, even though I know he’s quite a bit older than my twenty-eight years. I can already tell working alongside him and keeping things completely platonic might prove difficult if he decides to make a move on me, but I’m determined not to sleep with anyone I work with. I’m confident I can keep things strictly business. I have to. My professionalism means the world to me, and I can’t allow my demons to influence me and cause problems with this new career that I so desperately want. It will be a challenge, but at least Wayne is a far cry from my normal type—irresistible tattooed, bad-boy man-candy. I just need to keep my distance from him, and any other man who may pose a threat to my newfound vow of celibacy.

It’s about an hour drive through the hills of Kentucky before we come to the entrance of Serenity Hills, tucked among a thick line of trees that hide the rest of the property from sight. We turn down the paved drive and wind our way up the gentle slope and through the woods.

The large white Victorian-style home with a wraparound porch that’s featured on the cover of the brochure comes into view. Wayne told me how beautiful this place was when he interviewed me in my hometown of Chicago, but I never expected this. It’s peaceful and serene—the perfect place for people to relax and recover from whatever demons they’re struggling with away from the harsh realities of the real world.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” Wayne takes the words right out of my mouth.

“It is,” I agree. “I can’t believe I’ll be staying here.”

“Actually…” Wayne pulls around the circular driveway and then continues to drive around to the back of the house, where a series of tiny white cottages sit spread out about fifty yards from the main house. “You and the rest of the staff get your own cottages. They’re fully equipped—sort of like an efficiency apartment. They’re quite nice.”

I like the idea of having my own space to be alone with my thoughts and just read. I do have one lingering question, though. “What about our clients? Where will they be staying?”

He parks the car and cuts the ignition. “The clients stay in the main house, where myself and our head nurse, Timothy, will be as well. We like to keep our eyes on them, and Timothy is quite strong, which comes in handy if a client gets out of hand.”

“It’s good that you have him.”

“It is, but I want to assure you we take staff and client safety very seriously here at Serenity, and have never had an issue with any of our clients behaving in a violent manner. Most are affluent members of society—some are even celebrities.”

I raise my eyebrows. Celebrities? I thought the secluded surroundings were just to provide a tranquil atmosphere, but now it makes sense. The lush greenery also helps keep the prying eyes of the paparazzi out. I wasn’t even allowed to know the location of the treatment center until I formally accepted the position. The physical address was never listed on any of the informational paperwork I received. “Do many celebrities come here?”

Wayne pauses for a moment and then nods his head. “From time to time.”

“Do they receive any special privileges?”

“No. They are treated just like everyone else. We hold group sessions as well as some private ones to maintain a level of privacy for all our clients. Some of the issues they may need our help working through are very private, so we don’t begrudge them, or anyone else, of that confidentiality. We don’t want to hinder their recovery process.”

I nod. “That’s understandable.”

Wayne smiles, his perfectly white teeth on full display. “I think you’ll fit in nicely here, Ms. Mead.”

“Frannie, please, I insist, and thank you for that vote of confidence. I’m really excited to be a part of the team here. I’m ready to help make an impact on people’s lives.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Frannie.”

After Wayne helps me from the car and collects my bag from the trunk, I follow him down the cobblestone path toward one of the cottages. Fresh spring flowers line the walkway, and I inhale deeply taking in their floral scent along with the crisp air. I’ve never been one to covet country living, but I can see how living among beauty like this would be appealing to some.

The closer we get to the cottage, I notice how close it is to a beautiful, lush garden. A huge fountain sits in the middle, water spilling from a female statue’s bucket. Four benches surround it, each spaced equally apart. It’s breathtaking—like something that belongs in some grand park somewhere for the masses to enjoy, instead of just a few select individuals.

Wayne steps up onto the small concrete stoop of the cottage and watches as I study the garden intently. “I thought you’d enjoy that. I chose this cottage for you since it was right next door to it.”

“It’s wonderful,” I gush.

Wayne smiles, clearly pleased that I’m so ecstatic about his choice. “If you like that, wait until you have a look inside.”

Curious as to what could be any better than this, I follow him inside, and my breath immediately catches. This small little house must have been a decorator’s wet dream to design. Everything in the places exudes softness and serenity, down to its overstuffed cream colored couch and bedding, both with soft teal accents. It’s very fitting considering the name of this facility.

I resist the urge to jump on the bed and test its softness in front of Wayne, choosing instead to walk around the room. A small kitchen area sits along the back wall, and a couch with an entertainment area separates the living room from the bedroom. I push open one of the doors next to the bed to reveal a decent size walk-in closet, and the second door hides the full bathroom complete with claw-foot tub.

I think I’ve died and gone to my own personal heaven.

Wayne clears his throat behind me, and I turn to find him holding out a key. “Dinner is served promptly at seven in the main house, and I would be delighted to show you around the grounds afterwards—while we still have plenty of light.”

I pinch the small piece of metal between my fingers, delighted. “That would be great. Thank you.”

A huge smile overtakes Wayne’s face, even reaching his dark brown eyes. “I’ll leave you to unpack. See you at seven.”

The moment the door shuts behind him, I do the thing I’ve been itching to do since I walked in—I run and jump on the bed, immediately sinking into the thick down comforter.

I shove my loose strands of brown hair out of my face and sigh. “What a start to a new life.”

Two years ago, I would never have seen myself here, in this moment. Especially with both a degree
and
a job that I’m excited about. Annie would be proud; I know it.

After unpacking all my things, I glance up at the clock that’s hanging on the wall. It’s only a little after six, so I still have some time to poke around the place before dinner. I move to grab my purse but decide to tuck it into the closet for safe keeping instead. Since there’s not a pocket to be found anywhere on the sundress I’m wearing, I slip the key into my bra for safekeeping.

I step out on the small stoop and take care to lock my door carefully behind me before continuing up the stone path toward the main house. The silence of the natural surroundings is only disturbed when birds chirp in a gleeful chorus. I can’t remember the last time I was, or even if I ever have been, in a place so away from civilization that there’s absolutely no intrusion on the sounds of nature, but it’s delightful.

When I finally make it to the house, I step up onto the back porch. Its grand two-story pillars really give a regal appeal to the place. As I turn to walk to the front of the house, a door behind me opens.

A petite blonde, wearing a white skirt and pale yellow polo shirt, comes bouncing out the door with earbuds in her ears, humming along to a song on the radio.

The moment she spots me, she yanks the cord on her earbuds, popping them out, and grins. “You must be Dr. Mead. I’m Kimmy, the housekeeper. It’s so nice to finally have another woman on the staff around here.”

I extend a hand out to her. “Please, call me Frannie.”