As they stuffed themselves near to bursting, Clydie listened to the story of Julian's boring and mundane life, and frankly, she would have traded places with him in an instant. It sounded wonderful, the way he'd spent his childhood in Texas, riding horses and roaming around the countryside and camping under the stars. 

In fact, he'd only left the state to join some of his family for a while and because opportunities were easier to be had outside his small home town.

His entire life seemed to have been very quiet and easy, very staid and grooved. And she envied him that because even before her sister had done...what she'd done, life hadn't exactly been quiet and peaceful, thanks to Sam. Sometimes, she thought that was why her dad had taken a job that allowed him to travel for weeks out of the month. He wanted to stay away from all the problems and upheavals as much as possible and work was a reasonable excuse.

She wished she could have found an excuse to run away from all the problems at home. Maybe she wouldn't have been there that day and then perhaps her life would have gone on to be normal in some sort of way.

Once they finished eating, Clydie helped with the cleanup, which took all of five minutes because there was nothing to wash but a couple of glasses and a mug. As she was sliding the last glass into the cabinet above the sink, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder, making her wince.

Damned area rug. She'd probably torn a ligament trying to pull the thing through the house!

"Clydie? What's wrong?" Julian asked, somehow instantly noticing.

"Eh, nothing," she said, rotating her shoulder to try and work out the stiffness.

"It doesn't look like nothing. What happened?" he asked, sliding in the last of the leftovers and closing the fridge.

"Matt and I pulled up the rug in the parlor and my shoulder is a little sore," she replied.

"Hmmm. Let me see what I can do about that," Julian said, reaching out to take hold of her hand and pull her over to him.

With her facing the sink and the dark window over it, Julian moved around behind her, sliding his sweater off her shoulders and down her arms, laying it on the countertop next to them. And then his hands were on her, working the flesh and muscles of her shoulder, from the side of her neck, down to the bottom of her shoulder blade and halfway down her arm. He was skillfully kneading her tender muscles in a way that hurt and yet, at the same time, had her knees growing weak and her eyes drifting closed.

"How does this feel?" Julian asked, his voice slightly coarser than it had been a second before.

"It hurts a little," she said, her own voice sounding breathy and thick.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

She shook her head, letting out a little groan as his fingers worked the back of her arm. "No. You don't...you don't have to stop."

Who in their right mind would want to stop what Julian was doing? His hands on her was the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt. The way he was kneading her shoulder and neck, sliding his fingers beneath her tee shirt to touch her bare skin, had gooseflesh standing up all over her body and an inadvertent gush of moisture collecting between her legs.

The way he was massaging the top of her shoulder sent a lovely sort of pain through her and she couldn't help but let another groan slide out of her, which caused Julian to pause. "Are you sure this isn't hurting you?" he asked.

"It hurts, but I don't mind," she whispered thickly.

Julian moved closer to her and she could hear his breath quickening. "Do you like it to hurt, Clydie?" he asked in a rough tone.

She wasn't quite sure he was talking about the massage he was giving her, but she nodded anyway and Julian increased his efforts, putting just enough strength behind his grip to push another groan out of her.

Before she knew what was happening, she found herself spun around and Julian took her by the waist, lifting her right up off her feet and sitting her on the edge of the sink, bringing her face to face with him. He easily pushed her legs apart and stepped in between them, which brought their bodies together in the most intimate way. Without any hesitation, he leaned down and captured her mouth beneath his, kissing her in a fervent and hungry way that had her breath catching and her flesh sparking.

She didn't seem to need to stop and consider what she was doing. She just found her hands on Julian's shoulders and her body leaning into his and the next natural step seemed to be to allow him to deepen their kiss, so she parted her lips and Julian was ready to take willing advantage of that, sliding his tongue into her mouth and quickly engaging hers in a steady, heady dance that left her dizzy.

Julian's hands were underneath her shirt, moving over her bare back and shoulders and he was pressed against her in a way that enabled her to feel that he was already throbbing with want. Feeling that part of him against her caused her own body to react and a readying surge of moisture collected in her center, which was beginning to throb in time to her heartbeat.

A wonderful heat began to envelope her and as her mind began to toss up images of all the things Julian might be able to make her feel, he suddenly broke their kiss, pulling away and taking a step back from her.

"Clydie, I'm sorry," he rasped in an unsteady voice. "This isn't right. I-I shouldn't be doin' this to you."

A waft of confusion rolled through her. Hadn't Julian started out wanting to get her attention? Was he changing his mind now that he had it?

He took another step backward, but then seemed to change his mind and regained the slight distance between them, crushing his mouth against hers in a way that had little shards of something painfully wonderful skittering all through her. And that kiss, which she'd thought would be over pretty quickly, went on and on, with Julian tasting her mouth with the tip of his tongue and letting his hands roam over her back and hips, holding her to him so that she could feel that piece of his body pushing against hers.

Julian eventually did break that kiss, after they were both breathing hard and at least Clydie was throbbing in some low lying places. He leaned his forehead against hers and tightening his arms around her, pressing her to him so there wasn't even air between them.

"I should get you home. Yer family is probably worried," he said hoarsely and even though she knew they probably weren't, she didn't say anything.

She certainly didn't want to stay if he wanted her to go. Besides, staying might lead to something beyond just kissing and she wasn't sure she was really ready for that, considering she'd only met the man a few days before.

Julian pulled in a long breath, his hard eyes boring into hers. "I didn't bring you here fer this, Clydie. I want you to know that. I really just wanted to...be near you."

She nodded, choosing to believe him.

Julian stepped back from her and she was suddenly back on her feet, standing on unsteady legs as he reached for the sweater he'd taken off her and draped it back over her shoulders. "I'll give you a ride back home. The rain is really comin' down out there."

She hadn't noticed anything, but now that it had been mentioned, she became aware of the raindrops pelting the window behind her. Even through walls and closed windows, she could hear the angry moan of the sea and the very distant rumble of thunder. Hearing the rain and the thunder sent a shiver up her spine. She used to like thunderstorms and rain, but not anymore. Not since...that horrible day. And having to go back into that dingy house that smelled of nicotine, with a storm raging outside, didn't exactly appeal to her.

"Clydie? What is it? You...you don't want to go home?" Julian asked her, his brows furrowed with worry.

She would love to go home, but that was impossible. Home was hundreds of miles away and two years behind her.

"Do you not feel safe there?" wondered Julian, his hard eyes studying her.

There was a very truthful answer to that question. "No."

That answer caused Julian to visibly tense. "Do you feel safe here?"

She didn't have to give her response any amount of thought. "I do feel safe here."

Not only did she feel safe in Julian's home, but she...felt safe with Julian.

"Then here is where you'll stay," was Julian's riposte. "How do you feel about Netflix and falling asleep on the sofa?"

"That sounds nice, actually." And it did.

Julian took her hand and led her out of the kitchen. "Do you need to call your parents to tell them you won't be home?"

"No. They know I'm here. They'll call me if they're worried." She highly doubted her phone would be ringing, though.

And so, that evening was spent lying on Julian's sofa, wearing one of his tee shirts and tucked beneath a blanket, watching re-runs of some fantasy show, and enjoying the view of Julian sitting in his recliner, sipping a glass of bourbon, and pretending to watch TV while he was instead watching her.

As she'd suspected,, the phone call from her parents never came.

*  *  *  *  *  *

The storm had swept past sometime during the night, leaving the world washed clean and the air smelling of the sea and wet earth. A thick mist hung in the air, swirling and writhing each time the damp wind gusted, reminding her of ethereal spirits enjoying one last dance before the sun rose and melted them away.

Clydie huddled into Julian's sweater, pulling it tight around herself in an effort to stave off that wind, which was pushing at her as firmly as a human hand. It was early, barely past daylight, and she was heading down the beach, away from Julian's house and toward home. She'd let herself out without waking him because... she'd just felt like it was time to go.

Honestly, she didn't really want to go back home, but at the moment, she had little choice. Perhaps, one day, when she managed to sort things out, she'd be able to have a life of her own...far away from...everyone.

As the house came into view just through the mist, she felt her stomach clench hard, fully expecting to see those three colorless images waiting for her in the shadows. But, other than the dancing swirls of mist, the backyard was empty and the house lay dark and silent.

Making her way up the wooden steps, she suddenly decided that she deserved to move on and have a life of her own. She hadn't been the one who'd done anything wrong, so she shouldn't have to be the one to suffer for the rest of her life.

Spending the night with Julian, watching TV and talking with him about nothing in particular—what she liked to eat and what she used to enjoy doing in her spare time—had reminded her of all the normal things she'd been missing. Just simple little things, like watching movies and chatting, things that every person should be able to do without even thinking about it, but things she'd been missing out on for two entire years.

Two entire years...wasted. Two entire years, thinking that she was either going to wind up locked away for good or laid to rest in the ground because she'd been forced to end things on her own. She hadn't had anything that even resembled a life. And all because her dead sister either couldn't let go or was too dumb to figure out a way to tell her whatever the hell it was that needed telling.

And that was not fair.

She wasn't the one who'd decided to slam into a tree at warp speed because she'd been having a fit. She wasn't the one who'd made any of the choices that had led up to that fit. And she certainly hadn't been the one to upend the entire family for years with her moods and her nonsense!

As much as she loved Sam, as much as she missed Sam...at this juncture, what she wanted most was for Sam to move on and just...let everyone be. Frankly, it was the least Sam Weston could do.

Filled with a sudden sense of determination, she hurried across the backyard and let herself in through the back door, entering the quiet house and hurrying up to her bedroom. It was early and she didn't want to wake her parents, so a shower was out of the question. And she wasn't hungry, so there was no need to bother with breakfast, so she decided to freshen up and do something productive by going down to get started on the parlor.

She did note on her way to the bathroom that there were no medicine bottles sitting on her nightstand and seeing the empty space there, she found herself almost disappointed. If those bottles had shown up without her even being in the house, she would have one hundred percent proof that she wasn't the one putting them there.

That was a niggling thought that was always in the back of her mind. Perhaps it came from two years of everyone telling her that she was stark raving mad, but a small part of her truly worried that she might somehow be responsible for those pill bottles. So, what a relief it would be if it was proved that she was not the guilty party.

A short while later, she was down in the parlor, on her knees with a scraper, working to get the burlap backing off the floorboards, which was rather slow going considering that her muscles were all stiff and achy from the day before. She had no idea where Ella stood on hiring in more people, but if she was her mother, she'd get on that ASAP. Otherwise, nothing was actually going to get accomplished.

As she worked, she began to think about what it might be like to actually live her life again.  Really live it.  Really get out there with all the other normal functioning people, just like Ella was always pushing her to do.  It was a scary thought, but it also felt...somewhat attainable.  Which was stunning, in and of itself.

And since it was a Friday night, and she happened to have a new friend who was familiar with the goings on around Cedar Cove, there was no reason why she should stay hold up in the house. 

 She was fairly certain that if she asked Matt Tanner out for the evening, he wouldn't turn her down. And surely, the two of them could find something to get up to.  So, that was what she meant to do. She meant to ask Matt to take her out and she meant to have a little fun. Or die trying.

Laying the scraper aside and getting to her feet, she closed her eyes and lifted her arms over her head, stretching out her tight, bunched up muscles, which all but groaned in protest. Again, she hoped her mother got on with hiring a few more strong, able bodied men, otherwise she was liable to wind up looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Huffing out a breath, she dropped her arms and opened her eyes...and a sharp, painful jolt shot through her, pushing a gasp out of her and causing her body to recoil, lurching her backward several steps. But, there was no getting away because...she...came flying after her.

Clydie felt a moment of numbing dread and fear sweeping over her and there was no fighting it off because...she....wasn't giving her time. The girl with the boyish haircut was right on top of her, so close there was barely air between them. And then...she was just frozen there...staring into those wide, blacked out eyes and watching that gaping mouth opening and closing in a silent scream...or perhaps forming silent...words?

It abruptly slammed into her that the girl might not simply be screaming, but instead...trying to scream words at her.

But, she couldn't hope to understand those words with the girl right up on her, trying to claw and rake at her. It stalled her mind and filled her with cold terror, having that faded remnant swiping at her like some sort of wild animal. She felt herself balking, felt herself wanting to get away from those empty eyes and those swiping hands and that icy, thick feeling those hands were leaving behind.  She wanted to scream, wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears and curl up into a ball until...she...went away.

Yet, this time...she didn't do any of those things.  Not this time...

Even with terror lancing her and that wild eyed image raking at her...she braced herself, trying to catch her breath and get her mind under control...because if she didn't face the things that were haunting her, they'd haunt her forever. And she was not going to spend the rest of her fucking life being tormented!

"Wh-what do you want! Just tell me what you fucking want!" she forced the words out, hearing them echo through the room.

The girl didn't respond, but her fervor seemed to increase and for a second, Clydie thought that faded thing was actually trying to claw its way inside her. That notion had her reeling backward a few more steps and had her heart leaping up into her throat.

"Please, tell me what you want! Tell me or go away and leave me alone!" she choked out on a half-sob, trying to stand her ground, but finding it increasingly difficult.

Her mind could only take so much. And having the girl with the hollowed out eyes standing nearly nose to nose with her, desperate and screaming, was almost too much. She usually couldn't allow it to carry on for more than a few seconds before she had to shut it out, simply for the sake of her own sanity.

But, then, in a startlingly abrupt move, the girl whipped around...and was gone. Gasping, Clydie blinked a couple of times...and the girl was across the room, by the doorway. She blinked again...and the girl was out in the foyer, looking back at her. But, the faded image was beginning to blur around the edges, becoming out of focus..

Watching the girl, who was watching her right back, Clydie suddenly knew with stone cold certainty, that the girl wanted her to follow. There was no screaming now, no raking and clawing, no acting like a crazed and desperate thing. She was simply standing...and waiting.

With very little input from her mind, her body jolted into motion and she was moving forward on stiff legs, feeling a bit as if she might be dreaming. And since she was willingly going to follow the faded, coal eyed leftovers of what had once been a person...it might be better for her if she was dreaming.

Barely able to feel her feet touching the floor, she made it over to the parlor doorway and out into the foyer, finding the girl, who was so faded that she appeared nearly colorless, standing in the hallway leading to the kitchen. And then...she...lifted a hand, beckoning Clydie to come toward her...

"Clydie? What are you doing?" a voice called out, shattering the silence and causing Clydie to jump with a start.

She whipped around toward the stairway, finding Frank and Ella coming down, both of them regarding her with rather nervous expressions.

"Clydie?" Ella repeated. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Clydie quickly tried to pull herself together, tried to ignore the cold film that was still clinging to her, tried to ignore the way her heart was threatening to beat right out of her chest. "N-nothing. I-I was just...going to get a bottle of water."

She glanced back down the hallway, but the girl was gone, which swept her with both a measure of relief, and yet a measure of anger.  Dammit.  It felt like she'd been so close...to something...

"You look kind of pale, Pumpkin. You sure you're alright?" Frank wondered as he and Ella moved through the maze of boxes piled up between them.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she croaked, surprised that she was able to function so quickly after that encounter.

"I think she's just tired after her date," Ella said as she began herding Clydie toward the kitchen. "You must have had a late one. I didn't even hear you come in."

"That's because she didn't," Frank said, sounding stern. "I was up for a glass of water at four this morning and she wasn't home."

"You stayed the night at Julian's! Again!" Ella exclaimed, sounding more thrilled than anything.

"Ella, I really don't think we should be encouraging our teenaged daughter to spend the night with a strange man," Frank scolded as they entered the room.

"She's a grown woman, Frank. We have no say in what she does with her time," Ella defended, going for the fridge and rummaging around.  "The only concern I have is whether she's being safe.  And, since she's my daughter, I'm sure she is."

Clydie felt herself preparing to turn and run. She did not want to get into a discussion about safe sex right then. "We just ate supper and watched TV. And I fell asleep on his couch. Alone."  A girl couldn't get much safer than that.

"Whatever, honey. You don't owe us an explanation," Ella stated happily.

"I'd like to know why you suddenly don't want to come home," Frank put in, going for the coffee maker so he could get a pot started. "Up until a few days ago, you rarely left your room and now, you're staying out all night. Why? Is it the house?"

"Frank, its Julian," Ella pointed out, pulling out a few breakfast fixings.

Clydie took a step backward, toward the exit. This was not her argument, so she wanted nothing to do with it.

"Ella, my beautiful wife, I know you want to pretend it isn't happening, but our daughter is actually going through something. And I don't think we can blame this on Post Traumatic Stress—"

"Frank, I know! Don't you think I know!" Ella cut him off in a tone that was so harsh, it stunned Clydie.

Taking that as her cue, she spun around and shot from the room, getting herself back to the safety of the parlor. She was definitely going to be spending as much time as possible out of the house, trying to do normal things. The more time she had away from her parents, the better she felt it would be for them. 

 The last thing on earth she wanted was to cause problems between Frank and Ella.  Her family had already suffered enough loss, thanks to one Weston daughter.  The daughter that was left did want to be responsible for yet more pain and devastation.