Rookie (16 page)

“I know that,” he said softly.  “I know you want to be your own person again.  And I understand that.  But you need to put your safety number one.  All this is just temporary.  Grant will be caught.  He’ll pay for what he’s done.  It may take a while or it may happen tomorrow.  But until it does happen, you need to be careful and take precautions.”

She couldn’t argue that fact so she closed her mouth and stared into his eyes.  He was right.  And she was just going to have to adjust to the changes in her life until Grant was caught.  There really wasn’t much else she could do – especially since she had no idea if Grant was still lurking about the LA area or if he’d run back home.

“Okay,” she sighed.  “I suppose you’re right.”

He grinned.  “I usually am.”

Rolling her eyes, she slipped her hands out of his and got to her feet.  “I think I’m going to go to bed.  I’m tired today.”

“Okay, Rookie,” he said.

Once she closed the door to the guest room, she picked up the bottle of pills the doctor had given her.  They were mild sleeping tablets that Aliza had recommended to help her battle the nightmares.  She considered them for a second, wondering if it would hurt to try one.  Maybe she’d sleep and not have to rely on Rob to get her through the night.

“I hate pills,” she muttered, recalling some of the young people she’d met during the brief period she’d spent on the streets.  She’d hated seeing girls her age and younger selling their bodies in order to feed their growing addictions.  It had hurt and frightened her.  She’d vowed to never, ever turn to drugs or alcohol to get her through any situation.

Still, though, the pills in her hands had been prescribed by a physician.  And if she followed his instructions, perhaps they would do her more good than bad.  Her growing addiction to Rob was far worse than taking a sleeping tablet at night.

“Maybe I’ll try half and see how that goes,” she mused, shaking a tablet into her palm.  A line split the little pill so she broke it in half and swallowed it with a glass of water from the bathroom.

She crawled in bed, pulled the sheet to her chin, and waited.  Before she knew it, she was asleep.

***

Sidney woke the next more, groggy, but satisfied that she’d remained in her own bed.  As she padded to the bathroom, she recalled her dreams.  They’d been pretty horrible, mostly of Hugh and his leering face, approaching her bed, his beefy hands reaching for her body.  That image had replayed over and over all night but the medication had kept her sleeping.

She didn’t know what was worse – reliving the dream over and over or waking in a screaming, cold sweat.

She stumbled into the kitchen, happily accepting Mrs. B’s offered cup of coffee.  Rob, dressed in suit and tie, grinned.

“You slept through the night.”

She nodded, sipping the hot liquid, allowing it to warm the cold that had taken over her body.  “I did.”

His grin quickly morphed into a frown.  “Did you really or did you wake up and suffer all night by yourself?”

Sinking to a stool, she set her cup on the counter.  It was no use lying to him – she’d seen her reflection in the mirror and knew that she looked horrible.  “I stayed asleep but the dreams still came.”

“Did you take one of those pills the doctor gave you?” he asked.

“Half of one,” she said.

“Rookie,” he sighed.  “It’s not going to hurt you to take a full dose.”

“I know,” she said, lifting her cup to her lips.  “I’m just not a … I don’t know.”

He glanced at Mrs. B who was hovering over the stove, not paying any attention to their conversation, before lowering his voice and taking her hand.  “You can always crash in my room.  It’s not a problem.”

Her cheeks flushed and she hated it.  She hated how easy it was for her to blush.  Why was that?  She’d lived on the streets – seen lots of things. But a few words from Rob could make all the heat in her body rush to her face.

“I know,” she said, her eyes shooting to Mrs. B.  “But, I know it’s an inconvenience for you.  I mean, what about your life?  What about…you know…”

Puzzled, he stared at her for a second until realization set in.  His cheeks pinked a bit.  “Oh.  Well, you don’t have to worry about that.  It’s not like I’m seeing anyone at the moment.  I mean, Mel will be back tonight, probably, but it’s not like that sort of thing...  It’s not like that, you know?”

Even though it was as if the entire world was crashing down upon her, she managed to keep her facial expression neutral.  Nodding, she sipped her coffee again.

“It’s not that Mel and I are an item or anything,” he hastily explained, running frantic hands through his hair.  “We’re… oh hell, I don’t know what we are.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she said, setting her cup on the counter as Mrs. B served them both heaping plates of pancakes.

“I know,” he said, not meeting her eyes.  “I guess maybe I’m trying to explain it to myself.  But it doesn’t matter at this moment.  It will work itself out somehow, right?”

“Right,” Sidney said, forcing a smile.  The last thing she wanted to discuss with him was his relationship with Melanie.  Guilt touched her heart as she realized how selfish she sounded in her mind.  He’d gone out of his way to help her – had been a wonderful friend – and now it seemed as if he had something weighing on him that he needed to figure out.  What kind of friend was she if she couldn’t at least let him talk to her about it?

“Rob,” she said, scooting closer.  “I’m sure when she gets back in town that the two of you will find time to sit down together and work it out.”

He managed a weak grin.  “I know.  I’m not worried about it and you shouldn’t worry about it, either.  Let’s get you back on your feet first, huh?”

She nodded, disappointed in her poor attempt to help him.

He left shortly after for the studio, leaving Sidney to wander about the house, following Mrs. B around, looking for something to do.  Monday couldn’t come fast enough.  Used to keeping busy, she hadn’t been able to adjust to sitting around and was chomping at the bit to get to work.

“Sidney, why don’t you just relax,” Mrs. B said.   “You only have a few days left until you have to go back to the studio.  You might as well enjoy yourself.  Why don’t you go hang out on the deck and get some sun?”

It was as good an idea as any.  She didn’t have a swimsuit but she did have a
cami and some shorts.  She could lounge out on the deck and soak up a few rays.  She’d lived in California for a few months now but didn’t really have any sort of tan to show for it.

Once she’d changed and grabbed one of the books Lexie had brought her (all romance novels), she settled on the deck to read.  Although she wasn’t a big fan of romance books, she quickly became lost in the plot, rooting for the heroine, hoping that she would get her man in the end.

“Sidney, you’ve been out here for awhile.”

The voice broke into the fantasy in which Sidney had delved, shaking her back to reality.  She looked up to find Mrs. B standing before her, a large glass of lemonade sweating in her hand.

“I guess I got a little into this book,” Sidney said, putting the book aside and accepting the glass.  “Thanks.”

“Didn’t want to see you fry,” Mrs. B said as she sat on the chair beside Sidney.  “You’d be uncomfortable.”

Sidney looked at her bared midriff, wincing a bit at the color.  She didn’t burn easily but her skin had started to take on a pinkish tinge.  “Good thing I started out on my stomach.”

Mrs. B laughed.  “Yes, I would think so.  You’d be a little uneven.  Are you hungry?  I made sandwiches.”

“Sure,” Sidney said as she followed Mrs. B into the house. As she ate, her mind returned to the book she’d been reading.  She hadn’t finished it but she’d read her share of teen romances while in school and they’d all ended in much the same fashion – the couple experiencing their happy ever after.

How wonderful it would be if my life was like a romance novel,
she thought as she popped a grape into her mouth. 
Even though things are a little rough, at least I’d get the man in the end.

She quickly shook that thought out of her head, not wanting to elaborate on that fairy tale.  Just earlier that morning Rob had somewhat confided in her that he was still working on his relationship with his ex-wife.  The only happy ever after she could see in the future would be between Rob and Melanie.

As if materializing from her thoughts, Rob strolled into the kitchen and snatched a sandwich off the plate Mrs. B had set on the breakfast bar.  Ripping off a bite, he winked at Sidney as he perched on a stool.

“How’s it going?” he asked, pointing at her arm.  “Looks like you got a little sun.”

“Yeah, I lounged on the deck for a bit.”

He grinned.  “It’s about time.  I was beginning to think you were a ghost.”

Rolling her eyes, Sidney took a sip of her lemonade, not bothering to comment on his remark.

“When are you talking to Aliza again?” he asked as he snatched a handful of green grapes from the bowl on the counter.

“Today,” Sidney said.  “Why?”

“I was just thinking that maybe you could have her come here so you two can talk,” he said with a shrug.  “And maybe you could set up a couple meetings at that center of hers.”

He was trying, she realized.  He was compromising.  She was certain that he had no intentions of letting her go to the Center herself, but at least he wasn’t throwing a fit about her going.

“I’ll do that,” she said as she finished her sandwich.  “I’ll call her right now.”

As she raced up the steps, she put the silly romance novel and her silly feelings from her head.  She’d meet with Aliza today and discuss it all with her.

Hopefully Aliza would not only be able to help heal a broken soul, but an aching heart, too.

Thirteen

Aliza Ebern was a tall, thin woman with extremely dark hair and vivid, lively green eyes.  Her smile was warm, inviting, and her demeanor one that commanded confidence.

Sidney welcomed her into the house, leading her directly to the den where Mrs. B had already laid out cookies and iced tea.

“It’s nice to meet in person,” Aliza said as she sank to a cushy chair near the cold fireplace.  Crossing her legs at the ankle, her warm smile reached her eyes, immediately putting Sidney at ease.

“It is nice,” Sidney agreed, sitting stiffly at the edge of the loveseat.

“Relax,” Aliza said.  “We’ve talked before, we’re not strangers.”

“I know,” Sidney said, sliding into the loveseat. 

“You said that you’d like to visit the Center,” Aliza continued.  “We’ll figure that out after we talk, okay?”

“Sure,” Sidney said.

“Let’s start with sleeping,” Aliza said, retrieving a notepad from the valise she’d set by her feet.  Picking up a pen, she looked at Sidney, brow raised.  “How have you been sleeping?”

Lifting a shoulder, Sidney plucked a cookie from the plate and broke off a piece.  “I took half a tablet the other night and it helped.  The nightmares were still there but they didn’t wake me.”

Nodding, Aliza jotted a few things on her pad.  Tapping her pen on her thigh, she looked at Sidney, face screwed up in concentration.  “I think you should try the whole tablet.  Remember, it’s only a temporary thing to help you get the rest you need.  They are mild and non-addictive.  I know you’re not crazy about taking them, but I wouldn’t have recommended them to the doctor and he certainly wouldn’t have prescribed them if we didn’t think it would help.”

“I know,” Sidney sighed.

“Okay, let’s talk about these dreams,” Aliza suggested.  “Now, remember, I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or anything like that.  I am a counselor that works with women and all I will do is talk you through it and throw in my opinions.  If I feel that you need further help, I will refer you to someone.”

“I understand,” Sidney said.

“So, describe these nightmares to me.”

Taking a deep breath, Sidney bit her lip as the images from the night before and nearly every other night since the accident flooded her mind.

“It’s always pretty much the same,” she said in a small voice.  “It usually starts with me in the bed at one of the foster homes.  My foster father, Hugh, was an alcoholic.  He would go out several times during the week with friends from work and then come home late, drunk.  If I was lucky, he would stumble to his own bedroom and fall into bed and pass out.  But, some nights he would come into my room and just stare at me.”

“Did he ever touch you?”
Aliza asked.

Sidney’s spine stiffened as her heart sped up.  “He never … he never did anything sexually to me.  He would stroke my hair or touch my leg – things like that.”

“Sidney,” Aliza said, scooting forward and setting her pad on the floor.  “Even if you didn’t engage in intercourse, he still touched you in a sexual way.  He made you uncomfortable.”

“He did,” Sidney said as a few tears coursed down her cheeks.

“And you dream about this?”

“He comes for me in my dreams.  His face is ugly and I can smell his breath.  He touches my face, strokes my arm, and then rips the blankets off of me.  Sometimes, he does other stuff, but usually I wake up before he can get too far.”