As always, music plays a big part in my writing. Check out the link below for the song that inspired this update! Thanks for viewing, and reviewing!
watch?v=fsP9BXFOL2o
watch?v=IQ7N7xRsRPo
7
Derek, Brandon and Sam are talking but the only thing she hears, feels, is the deafening silence around her. The connection she has always felt to her shop is gone. There's no low hum, no warmth.
Looking around, the memories come flooding back.
This is where she first met Jake.
It will take weeks, months, before she can re-open, if she can at all. Finically, she's not even sure she can recover from all the merchandise that lay broken on the shelves and floor.
The warmth of Sam's hand brings her out of her fog as it slides up and down her back. They've finished talking and are looking at her expectantly, only she's not sure any words will come.
There's a presence, an anger, that invades every fibre of her being.
Suffocating her.
It causes her stomach to churn.
"There isn't anymore we can do tonight," Sam reasons.
The timber of his voice, the steady way in which he speaks provides something to cling to amid the chaos inside of her.
Steady.
They're talking again and Sam's hand slips into hers. She clings to it tightly, squeezing. Anchoring herself.
"Cassie?"
His voice is muffled, distant.
Nausea sweeps over her.
She can't be in here.
The cool night air hits her abruptly and she inhales deeply, attempting to keep the contents of her stomach from making a violent exit. Sam is there and he's reaching for her, bringing her into him. She exhales, letting the strength of his arms that wrap around her tightly be enough for now.
"I can't be here," she whispers into his shoulder. "Something's not right." The longer she stands in that presence, the more she can feel the anger in its intent. Sam's pulling her back to meet his gaze and she can tell that he's looking her over for some form of ailment. "Can you take me home?"
"Of course."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
It's late when he finally pulls into Grey House and he isn't surprised at the lights that are still on inside. As he parks, he looks over at her, reaching for her hand. Her fingers twine with his immediately as she holds his hand between her own.
"What do you need me to do, Cassie?" He questions softly.
A small smile tugs at her lips as she shakes her head, wiping her eyes again quickly. "You've done enough, Sam…."
She's quite a minute before she slips out of the car, and he exhales, taking a second to gather himself before following. Just as he had expected, Grace, Nick, Abigail and George are waiting for them in the kitchen.
They're all silent and it's Abigail who has the courage to ask. "How bad is it?"
Leaning against the island, she puts on a brave face, even though he knows how utterly broken she is on the inside.
"It's bad," she answers.
There's a collective sadness that fills the room, but none is greater than her own that's held just below the surface.
"Mom," Grace soothes, sliding off her seat at the island an into her mothers arms. "I'm so sorry."
Cassie envelops her tightly, giving her comfort. "Me too, honey."
"Do they know who did it?" Nick asks.
She looks over at him, and she's a little more pale than she was only minutes prior. "No…there were no security cameras," he answers. "But Derek is going to pull the footage from the Bank across the street to see if it picked up anything on its system."
George shakes his head, exhaling. "We'll fix this, Cassie. The Bell, Book and Candle has been a fixture in this town; Middleton always comes together when one of us is in need, I'm sure of it."
She manages a smile, and he notices the way she reaches for the counter to steady herself.
"I know we're all pretty shook up right now," he begins, "…but there really isn't anything more we can do tonight."
"A man of reason," Abigail comments. "It's late and if we're all going to 'come together' as George says, we're going to need some rest."
It's a shuffle around the kitchen as everyone says goodnight, hugging and reassuring Cassie that everything will be ok. Nick is sure to offer her a hug, and his chests tightens at the way his son hugs her just a minute longer, the way Cassie cradles the back of his head giving him kiss on the cheek as he pulls back.
"I'll be over in a bit," he offers as Nick passes him on his way out.
"I'd be alright if you weren't," Nick comments back, nodding toward Cassie who's moved towards the stove, putting the kettle on. "I'll text you if I need anything."
He grips his sons shoulder and Nick gives him a reassuring look before he heads home. It's just the two of them and he moves to stand beside her at the stove.
"My hands won't stop shaking," she says softly.
Turning the burner off, her takes her hands into his own, checking her pulse. "That's a natural response given what just happened." Her pulse is strong, but her hands are still shaking in his own, her complexion pale. "Are you feeling light-headed?"
She nods. "A little."
Guiding her to the table, she sits and he kneels in front of her. "Follow my finger." He watches her gaze as he moves his finger vertically and horizontally. "When we were at your shop, you said something didn't feel right. What did you mean?"
She rubs her forehead, closing her eyes. "….. I don't know what I meant I just…" her voice trails off and she shakes her head. "…I'm tired and confused and I'm feeling…." Her voice catches and the tears trickle down her face.
He eases her into him and her arms wrap tightly around him as she rests her head on his shoulder.
"….really overwhelmed right now," she finishes into his shoulder.
"Ok," he soothes, rubbing her back, kissing the back of her head. She's trembling next to him and although she was able to follow his finger, the way she was holding the counter for balance has him worried. "You're tired; that's something we can fix." She pulls back and he wipes the remaining tears from her eyes with the pads of his thumb.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
She takes her time in the bathroom, slipping easily into autopilot and her nighttime routine. Grey House had provided a reprieve from the crippling presence she felt at her shop, and she knows a great deal of that has to do with the man that's currently in her room, tossing the pillows on the armchair and turning down the covers.
She tries not to think about that too much.
Flicking off the bathroom light, she heads back into her bedroom, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. He's sitting on the edge of her bed, finishing up a text before he shoves his phone back into his pocket.
"There's more than one pair?"
He's gesturing to her feet and the fuzzy pair of socks she unconsciously put on. A small smile tugs at her lips and it's enough to lift her spirits even just a tiny bit. "There is," she nods.
He rises from the bed, stepping towards her. Rubbing her arms, his gaze levels with hers and a calmness slides over her. "You going to be ok?"
She's not entirely sure but she nods anyway, giving him the reassurance he needs.
"Call me if you need anything; I'm only next door."
"I will."
His gaze holds hers a long moment before he leans in to press a kiss to her lips. She returns it, wanting to pull him back when he pulls away.
She doesn't want him to go.
"Ok."
"Ok," she repeats.
He heads for the door and he gives her one last look over his shoulder before he closes the door behind him. Exhaling, she wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to sooth the sudden loneliness she's feeling.
She doesn't want to be strong right now. In control. The one that cares for everyone and knows just what to say.
She doesn't want to be alone anymore.
Not now.
Crossing the room, she reaches for the door hoping to catch him before he's left, only she finds him standing on the other side.
Her chest tightens, her heart fluttering for just a minute.
"I know this may make you uncomfortable but I've done this, so many times on my own," she begins.
He's stepping towards her, inching his way back into her room.
"…and you don't have to say yes…"
He closes the door behind him, kicking off his shoes.
"…I don't want to be alone tonight."
His hands frame her face just as he's leaning into to press a kiss to her lips. Sliding her arms around his waist, she steps into him. "Stay?" she breathes against his lips.
Pulling back, his thumbs sweep over her face gently. "I'm not going anywhere," he reassures.
She crawls between the sheets of her bed and although she feels a bit of nervousness, his arms settle her as he slides in behind her, wrapping her in his embrace. Her hand finds his and she weaves their fingers together, tucking it under her chin.
She wants to tell him how much she loves him. And not just because he's here, like this, right now. But for all the little things along the way.
For the way he challenged her when they first met.
For every mailbox conversation.
For trusting her with his problems.
For his friendship.
For offering to buy back her shop.
For never pushing her.
For calling her beautiful.
For making her laugh.
For the way he loves her daughter.
For the way he loves her.
His lips press against the crown of her head, and she closes her eyes, letting the words hang unsaid between them.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The empty cans of spray paint spill out of his bag as he drops it on the ground next to him. Standing outside of the Middleton Museum, the streets are empty for this time of night. Plastered all over the windows are flyers for the upcoming Historical Middleton exhibit.
Featuring the Merriwick women.
He rips the flyers from the windows, making sure to leave all but one laying all over the sidewalk, folding it into his pocket.
His encounter with the cousin had left him displeased. She has a fire inside of her that can't easily be swayed, no matter what lengths he had gone through to intimidate her. The girl, on the other hand, was an easy target. He hadn't planned on seeking her out but when their paths crossed that afternoon downtown, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
She practically ran across the street.
If he can't find any more of what he needs to follow through on his incantations, using Cassie Nightengale's daughter may prove to be an enticing back up plan. It would only be fitting, since her great-grandmother, Laurel, cursed his great-grandfather and their entire lineage.
It would only be retribution, after all.
. . . . . . . . . . .
The first signs of the day filter through the tiny cracks in her blinds, casting rays across the bed. Sam is still sound asleep beside her and she takes the reprieve to just be, and feel, everything about this moment.
At some point throughout the night he has removed his sweater, belt and socks, as they lay on the chest at the foot of her bed. His watch and cellphone are on the nightstand and she likes the sight of his things in her space.
She likes having him here, like this, with her.
The cotton of his t-shirt is soft against her cheek as she curls further into him. She's craving his warmth, his very presence next to her and she almost wishes he was awake so that he could wrap her in his arms again.
Her skin tingles at the thought of having his own pressed against hers, and she's acutely aware of the fact that they both have an uncharacteristic amount of clothing on right now.
She usually doesn't sleep in sweats and a tshirt, and she's sure he's not fond of sleeping in jeans.
It's something about having him here, in her bed, that stirs feeling inside of her she hasn't felt in a long time. She thought for sure it hadn't been as long for him, but the vulnerability in his eyes the other night held the truth; they were going to figure it out together.
She slides her arm around his waist, sensing the change in him as he begins to stir. His hand coasts up her arm and she shivers next to him, a physical reaction to his touch. His arm curls her closer into him and there's no hesitation on her part.
"Morning." His voice is soft, smooth and it slides over her right down to her toes.
"Morning," she echos gently. His fingers sift through her hair and she closes her eyes, content to lay in the silence with him.
His lips press to her forehead. "Should I go?"
It's early still, and as much as she'd like a few more minutes to just be here, with him, she has her daughter, guests and her shop to think about. Sitting up, she tucks her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, probably." The bed dips as he climbs out and she can't help but reach for him, letting her hand slide down his back as he rises. She's silent as he moves about her room putting himself back together.
There's a lot unsaid hanging between them and he fiddles with his watch longer than necessary as he attempts to find the words. "…I'm going to head home, check in with Nick but then I'll be back-"
"-Sam, you don't have to-"
"-don't have to what?" He questions. "Cassie….I love you. I'm in love with you and…" he sits on the bed, shaking his head. "…just let me love you," he pleads gently. "Just let me love you."
Tears well in her eyes and he reaches out to catch them with the pad of his thumb. "I love you too," she says softly.
He exhales, smiling. "That's a good thing, huh?"
She laughs a little, scooting across the bed to press her lips to his. "Yeah."
He holds nothing back as he returns her kiss, catching her around the waist and bringing her to straddle his lap. His hands frame her face, and he kisses her gently again before pulling back. "I'm going to go home, check in with Nick. Then I'm going to come back here, and we're going to go to your shop, where we're going to figure this out together."
She lets her hands trail up and down his chest, nodding. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Tbc