CHAPTER THREE
CECILY
I startle awake, my limbs trembling and my heart pounding in my chest. I reach out a shaky hand to turn on my phone and check the time. It's past one in the morning, meaning I've only been asleep for barely two hours. I sigh tiredly and struggle to drag my tired limbs out of my sweat soaked bed, strip the bedsheet off, and walk into my bathroom to take a shower.
My tired reflection stare right back at me from my bathroom mirror. My eyes are swollen from lack of sleep. I close my eyes, my hands gripping the edge of the sink as my mind drifts back to the dream I just woke up from—more like a memory. It's always a different one every night.
"Keep quiet you dirty slut. Keep quiet and take it like you're meant to!" The sound of skin slapping and grunts fill the tiny room. The stench of dirt and blood clogs my nostrils, my stomach recoiling in disgust. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming, but a powerful thrust has the sound ripping from my throat anyways. I scream in agony as his large hands wrap around my throat, pressing me to the mold filled bed. I can feel my consciousness slipping. Digging my chipped fingernails into the bedsheet, I bite down on my lip as I squeeze my eyes shut, praying it will all be over soon.
I gasp, my eyes flying open as I scramble to open my tap and douse my face with cold water. I pant, staring at my face dripping with water and take in a deep breath to calm my pounding heart. "You're safe. You're here in Sedona, far away from that life and you're never going back to it," I tell myself with as much conviction as I can muster. I will not allow my past haunt me and ruin my present. I keep chanting it until my breathing slows and my limbs stop trembling. After a few seconds of staring at myself in the mirror, I move away and take off my wet clothes for a much needed shower.
The shower helps to calm my nerves a little and I immediately settle down on my reading chair to continue with the project I and my kids are working on. I know there's no way I'll be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, so I might as well do something tangible with my time. I smile at the little pictures of my wonderful children spread out on the cardboard paper on my reading table, my heart swelling with love for them.
I work as a highschool homeroom teacher and I absolutely love my work. I have always loved kids and getting the job to work closely with them is a dream come true. The last ten years has been wonderful for me and I would love for it to stay that way. After moving on from a terrible relationship that nearly cost me my life—the second time—I decided to move here, a quiet town where I can settle down peacefully. Life here has been so much more than I dreamed of having, and for that, I am highly grateful.
I lose track of time working on the project and when I feel sleep setting in, it's almost five. I decide to rest for the remaining two hours a have left before getting reading for work and drag myself to lay down on my sheetless bed.
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The drive to work is filled with me yawning every other second as I try to focus on getting to school in one piece and not falling asleep. I barely got an hour of sleep before I woke up from another nightmare and couldn't go back to sleep. My kids would be so surprised with how far I've gotten on our project, considering I spent the remaining hour before getting ready for work, to continue working on the project.
I yawn as I turn off my ignition and grab my handbag from the passenger seat before hopping out of my beat down jeep. I got it for a really cheap price from an old man who could no longer drive nor maintain it. It's not the best jeep, but it drives me wherever I need to go and it's what I could afford. It's not like I ever go beyond school, Marcy's diner and my house. As long as it keeps moving, we are good.
I lock the door and turn around to walk into the school building. "Miss Mackenzie!" A familiar voice calls, drawing a smile out of me. I turn to find a tall and lanky handsome boy jogging up to me in his basketball jersey. "Mason! How are you? Already on the court this early?" I ask, smiling warmly at him. "I'm okay, Miss Mackenzie, and yes, we had basketball practice this morning," He tells me with a laugh that I join in, nodding in understanding.
We head into the school building, discussing the project. My face breaks into a huge grin when I walk into my classroom and find my students gathered in groups, chatting away. "Miss Mackenzie!" Stacy, the class prefect calls, gaining the attention of everyone. They all rush to greet me, and I laugh happily relishing in the love that they shower on me. This right here, is the reason I will never allow my past to get the best of me. As long as I've got these wonderful children, I'll survive just fine.
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I cut off my car engine and hop out, swinging the handle of my bag over my shoulder. The sight of MARCY'S DINER has me salivating as I think of the hot bowl of curry soup and bread I am about to devour. School was fine and I enjoyed teaching and spending time with the kids, but I am ready to call it a day and get something warm to fill my empty tummy. I couldn't drive down to this place fast enough.
Pushing the glass door open, I step into the cool and cozy diner, the aroma of food hitting me and I smile down at my tummy when it growls in response. "Yeah, me too." I whisper softly, patting it gently. I make a beepline towards the ordering counter and slightly stumble when a very tall man walks past me. I look up and make a very brief eye contact with the man and immediately go still. I can hear my blood rushing in my eyes as my brain short circuits.
There's no…no, it's not possible. How…It can't be.
I turn around to look, but he's already gone. I blink with a frown, wondering if I only imagined him. There's no way my mind would play such tricks with me, right? I walk back outside, hoping to catch sight of him, but I see no one that looks like him. With a disappointed sigh, I go back into the diner and walk up to Marcy, who is surprisingly wiping down the counter. Marcy doesn't work out here anymore, but spends most of her time in the kitchen, cooking and baking. She's humming a song when I get close enough, and her face is stretched into a big grin. I wonder what must have got her this happy. Marcy is always happy, but this feels like a special kind of happiness.
"Hi, Marcy," I greet, hopping on a stool and placing my bag on the counter top. "Ces! Was wondering when you'd show up! How was work? Those kids wear you out again, huh? You look like you could use a cold drink," She rambles on, her eyes sparkling with joy. I smile at her and nod with a sigh. "Yeah, they wore me out, I won't lie. But I love them, so it's okay. Yes, I could really use a cold drink. Watermelon drink, preferably. Thank you," I tell her and watch as she hurries round the counter to pour me a chilled glass of watermelon drink. I collect it with gratitude and a large gulp. The cold drink travels down my parched throat, cooling it and I close my eyes to savor the rich taste and feeling.
It's almost summer, so the weather is getting hotter. Sedona is a naturally warm town and the weather gets warmer when summer is approaching. "You really needed the drink," Marcy says with a small laugh and I nod in agreement. Oh, yes, I did. The sun was not smiling at all today. "So, what would you like to order?" She asks and my tummy rumbles at the reminder of food, making my face heat up in embarrassment. Damn stomach always picking the wrong time to announce its presence.
"I'll take a large bowl of curry soup and white bread. A slice of apple pie also, please," I tell her and lean on the counter with my elbows as I watch a waiter take my order from Marcy and disappear into the kitchen. "You seem all giddy today, Marcy. Don't get me wrong, you're always giddy, but you seem even more so today," I say to Marcy who chuckles before nodding eagerly. "Oh, I am, sweet child." She says and I smile at the term of endearment she uses.
Marcy is one of the most wonderful souls I've met. The moment she saw me ten years ago, looking all lost in this quiet town, she immediately came to my rescue and since then, she's been a big support. She started calling me sweet child from the very first day we met and it has been so ever since. I like that she calls me that. It makes me feel special, even though I know I am not close to being special. Still, it doesn't hurt to pretend I am.
"Yeah? You mind sharing?" I ask, tilting my head in curiosity. It's not my nature to be nosy, but I have a feeling that her happiness is connected to the man that just walked out and I do want to know about him. "Oh! I'm just happy to see a very old friend again, is all Ces. I thought I wouldn't get to see him for a while again, but I did," She explains, peaking my curiosity.
An old friend? "Are you referring to the man I just walked past on my way in?" I ask, hoping it's him. "You saw him? Tall, handsome with short, dark brown hair?" She asks and I quickly nod, my heartbeat escalating. "Yeah, that's him. Haven't seen him in over twenty years." She says with a happy sigh and I lean forward, eager to know more. "He's a friend of yours, Marcy?" I ask and feel my face heat in embarrassment when she looks at me like I'm dumb. "Yes, sweet child, I just said that," She says, looking at me with a small frown, before shaking her head and grinning. "He's a fine man, isn't he?" She says wiggling her brows and I can't help giggling at her antics. "I didn't get a good look at him, Marcy. He just seemed a little familiar. What's his name?" "Dominic Van Beek," She says and I arch a brow in surprise. "Mrs Van Beek has another son?" I ask.
I have heard people talking about how she lost her son who was once the town's sheriff, but no one has ever mentioned her having another son. Could it be…No, no, it's not possible. I might not have gotten a really good look at him, but I'm sure he's not the one. "Ah, yes, she does," Marcy says, her eyes dimming a little. "But…" "sweet child, no one talks about Dominic because he's a sensitive topic, to most of us. I'll go check on Gabriel and see why he's taking so long with your order," She says and walks away.
I stare at her retreating form and then sigh. I guess he's really a sensitive topic since she won't tell me about him. My order finally arrives and I eat slowly, my mind travelling down memory lane. I will never forget that face. As overdosed as I was, I still remember that kind face and voice that helped me through the worst time of my life. The only regret I have is that I never got to know his name.
With a heavy heart, I leave the diner and drive back home with the thought of the stranger and what connections he has with the man who saved my life.