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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Other · #837641
Frozen Flames a book of contradictions it will keep you on your toes, always guessing.
FROZEN FLAMES


Summer Winters took a deep breath to steady her trembling hands as she reached out to open the door of her old high school. It had been years since she had set foot into her hometown and now she was about to face the tormentors of her youth in the very chambers in which they had held her prisoner. She fought the urge to wipe away the spiders that crawled at her arms as she walked down the murky hallways...it wasn't all that long ago that they hadn't been imagined. Summer swallowed back the bile that threatened to choke her as the hand reached through the fog of her memory and drew her near. She fought with all of her might to suffocate the scream that clawed at her throat and gloated silently at the victory. But it was short lived, as the blackness swept in when the face accompanying the hand came into view. Summer knew that this would be the fight of her life, to lose would mean certain death, to win, the ultimate victory.

Cool velvet engulfed Summer as the blackness surrounded her. She felt herself being led but she didn't know where. The earth begin to shake, a defining thunder filled the air and her captor was taking her closer. Her senses begin to fail her as the fear threatened to paralyze her. Summer knew that she had to act fast, she gave a violent twist and miraculously her wrist slipped free from the callused hand that had held her. Suddenly the blackness gave way and was replaced by a sea of sharks ready to devour her very soul.

The lightening was ferocious while she was blinded by the sun and felt her skin begin to burn from its unyielding gaze. The roar of the thunder was so intense Summer could feel its power and the sharks seemed to be attributing to it. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes and for a second, calmness settled in. Then one shark jumped out of the sea and nipped her ankle. At once the hand that had led her there reappeared and pulled her back to safety. She felt a mummer whisper against her cheek, but could not hear for the thunder had returned. Suddenly without warning the sun disappeared from the sky and darkness much deeper than night set in. Summer drew a deep breath, as she found herself alone and drank in the tranquility. The relief she felt was so astounding that she found herself singing. Summer could see the lightening and hear the thunder but she was calmed by the harmonious sound of her own voice. She glanced out to the sea and it seemed almost as if the sharks where lulled as well. A lone moonbeam floated down from the sky and Summer reveled in its enrapturing beauty.

"Summer, breakfast is ready." Brig Shalpy called down the hall towards the bedroom of the hotel suite. "I'll get it", he mumbled as an obtrusive knock sounded at the door. Brig handed the bellhop a twenty as he took the newspaper and quickly shut the door, he could tell the kid was trying to catch a glimpse of Summer and he chuckled to himself. She had been so scared when they had booked her in her hometown. Summer had almost had a nervous breakdown when they told her that the concert would be in the high school gym. She was certain that no one would buy the tickets and the entire show would be a flop.

"Who was at the door?" Summer asked as she reached for the cup of coffee in front of the empty chair at the table.

Brig was taken aback by her sudden appearance. It usually took at least three calls to summon Summer after a concert, especially one with as many encores as last night. He drew a deep breath realizing he had not taken one as he gazed at her rapturous figure. Summer Winters was a woman of rare beauty with flawless outer features. Her hair was raven black with a slight cherry brushing, she had impeccable nails that had never needed the touch of acrylic, her slender physic was immaculate with a seemingly porcelain complexion. To gaze into her eyes was to experience a glimpse of heaven, and to hear her voice, pure exotic ecstasy. Yet what most people found astounding about her was her personality. The fact that she did not see anything unusual, at least not in a flattering way, about herself. She was completely unaware of her rare eccentric appearance.

Brig held up the paper, opened to the review of her performance. He smiled triumphantly as he cleared his throat and begin to read the flattering article..."Not so bad for a concert doomed to fail before it was even booked, huh? This reporter seems to have at least enjoyed himself, as well as everyone he interviewed. I told you this was an excellent opportunity when it came up."

Summer silently took the paper from him and read the article herself. An unexplainable sadness filled her heart as a single tear escaped her lush lashes. Brig watched in horror as the still steaming cup of coffee slipped from her grasp and soaked her dainty gown. He screamed for help as her angelic eyes rolled back and she fell to the floor beside the still empty chair. Almost immediately he had her head in his lap willing her to wake up while gently running his long callused fingers through her silky hair. He drew back shaken as he found the sticky red blood that slowly oozed onto his jeans.

Brig felt as though time were literally running through an hourglass, like he had seen daily on Summer's favorite day time soap, while he stood by and watched the paramedics load her lifeless form onto the stretcher. He grabbed her purse and told a member of the road crew to pack a bag as he hurriedly followed the medics down the hall. "Wait, you can't take her there," he hollered when he realized that they were heading for the main elevators. "The fans would go crazy and the media would have a field day. There's a private one this way," Brig explained as they exchanged puzzled looks but thankfully followed him.

Summer found herself in a bed of fluffy white clouds surrounded by feathery softness. At first she was content to lie there and enjoyed the sensation of floating until she heard the humming of the bees. They begin to attack her and she tried to scream but her voice was so weak it sounded foreign to her own ears. Summer tried to fight them off but it was hard to move for the clouds had somehow become binds. Panic crept in and she knew that she was losing the battle. Summer simply did not have the strength for another fight after the one she had barely won the night before. Immediately she found herself back on the stage in the gymnasium looking down at the crowd of crazed fans, some of whom she had attended school with. It had been Jeff Vanx who had grabbed her ankle when she had stumbled to close to the edge. Brig had admonished her for doing something so foolish and she berated herself even harder. She had tried to explain it to him, but he just couldn't understand why she had been so anxious about performing in Singercreak.

Summer's head pounded, she flinched as though a baseball bat were slamming her every muscle. Groggily she attempted to open her eyes but it seemed like someone had sewed them shut. She tried to speak but found a wad of cotton where her tongue had been. Summer could hear voices near and she tried to listen but they seemed to be in some sort of tunnel. Ahead she could see the blackness closing in again, yet this time there was the knowledge that she might not be able to resurface. Summer drew upon all the strengths she could and found herself facing the dragon of her past. At once she was walking down the halls of Singercreak high, trying to sneak past him. She could hear the screams of the frightened girl she had been as he threw the spiders on her. She tried to run, however he was too quick for her and he overpowered her easily.

Summer's eyes flew open and she shook her arms vigorously, the nurse grabbed her wrists while calling for assistance. Brig reached her room on the heals of the doctor and couldn't believe his eyes. Summer Winters, one of the most sought after artist was hardly recognizable. Her eyes were wild, her pale skin seemed almost transparent. She was screaming, clawing the air as if fighting for her very life. Brig went to her side, desperate to help her yet it was as if she saw straight through him. Then the fight was over. Summer Winters had lost...

The doctor gave his condolences and hurried off to his next patient. There was nothing else he could do for Summer, fame or not. Her future, whether she lived or died, was entirely up to her. He had bandaged her head where she had hit it on the corner of the table, her burns had been superficial. Medically, she was fine, yet on the other hand, Summer Winters lay in a deep comatose-like sleep.


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Brig Shalpy shivered as the wind blew up Broadway, Maggots ate at his intestine from nerves as well as hunger. Strangers rudely bumped him and grumbled at him for being in their way while a pickpocket ran up the street with his last five-dollar bill. Brig's legs gave way and he fell to the ground, he crawled into the alley and curled up into a ball trying to warm up and forget the hunger pains.

As Brig lay unnoticed by the hundreds of people on the sidewalk, day turned to night and he decided to accept his fate. He turned to the teachings of his childhood and made peace with God. His only real prayer was for the end to be quick. Brig closed his eyes and awaited his death, and then he heard an angel singing! Alas, he had died and gone to heaven! He had known he would, but for some reason, he had thought that it would feel different. Opening his eyes Brig looked around puzzled. Wasn’t heaven supposed to look beautiful? All he could see was the same filthy alley he laid down in. He stood up and staggered towards a door. There was a bright light and it seemed to be drawing him closer. I bet St. Peter is waiting right on the other side, he thought to himself as he opened the door and with a loud bang fell to the floor inside.

Summer Winters stopped rehearsing surprised by the sudden noise. A feeling of dread pierced her heart as she found herself being pulled towards the door to the alley. She screamed as she stumbled over the half frozen body that lie there. Summer gazed at the unconscious man while she waited for help to arrive. He was unlike any man she had ever seen. He had deep red hair that made him seem as though his head might be on fire and would burn if touched. His unshaven jaw jutted defiantly and gave the unmistakable impression of confidence and authority. She wondered what had happened to this man to bring him here, half frozen and unconscious at the back of an alley.

“No, don’t move, “ she encouraged softly as he begin to stir. Summer tried to explain to him that he was safe and smiled to herself when he whispered “heaven.” She was caught off guard when he reached his callused hand up and gently stroked her cheek. “Angel”, he breathed as he slipped back. Summer insisted on going with them to the hospital when they came and started to carry him away.

Exhausted she lay down on the couch inside his hospital room and that is where Brig found her the next morning when he awoke. Confused, he tried to understand what had happened to him and where he was. He seemed to be in some sort of hospital but then he remembered making his peace with God and the bright light. Then with a start he remembered the beautiful sound of the angel and seeing her. He stared at Summer, how could he be in a hospital and have his angel asleep on the couch.

When the doctor came in Summer woke up and after seeing that the red headed stranger was all right, she gave her best wishes and decided to leave. Brig summoned her over and held her hand in his. His kind eyes begging her not to go. With his horse raspy voice he said, “We haven’t been introduced and you saved my life. Please don’t leave just yet. I’m Brig Shalpy, by the way.”

Summer smiled warmly at him as she gazed into his eyes, “I’m Summer Winters. I’m sure you’ll be all right now. The doctor said that you were just exhausted and a little hypothermic. Is there anyone I can call? Your wife maybe?”

Summer was shocked by the look of agony that appeared in his green eyes. He dropped her hand so suddenly, it was almost as if he threw it. She took a step back not sure of what to do as she watched the man go through an obvious inner turmoil.

Brig shuddered as he felt the unmistakable hands of time begin to turn back. Without warning she was there beside him, caressing his cheek with her tanned palm. It had been an incredible summer and he had just asked Joshlyn to marry him. She had leaned her head back and laughed in the deep, rich, throaty way he loved so much. She leaned forward, kissing him with a passion that made his senses go numb... He shook his head, he had to get out of there, before it was to late, he couldn’t go through this again. He blinked and found himself back in his hospital bed. When he saw Summer, he apologized and tried to explain, but she silenced him with an understanding look, telling him not to worry.

Summer and Brig chatted away the afternoon, becoming fast friends. They found that they both had a lot in common and many similar goals. Summer told him about how she was an understudy and hoped to make it big someday. Brig related to her how he had worked for a recording company, until they laid him off after the main office was lost in the second tower of the World Trade Center. Brig shared how he hoped to manage someone eventually. He didn’t tell her about Joshlyn, yet she somehow knew.

Two years latter, Brig stood off the stage and watched as Summer gave her hundredth concert. No one could have been prouder of, or happier for her. Together they found that they made an unbeatable team. He managed and she sang. Everyone thought they made an adorable couple and attributed this to their mutual success. They had moved in together within weeks of his being released from the hospital contributing to the speculation. They were best friends, soul mates and did everything together. They shared the same interests, if it hadn’t been for their pasts, they might have been a happy couple.
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Brig stroked Summer’s hair absently. He had related the story of how they had met over and over to her. He was exhausted, however he balked when anyone suggested that he go back to the hotel. He had members of the road crew bring him what he needed. He showered, ate and slept in her room, determined to be there for her when she woke up, like she had been there for him all those years ago. Brig vowed to tell Summer the one thing she didn’t know about him if, no when, she came back to him. He had never told her about Joshlyn and she had never told him what had happened when she was in high school. Now was the time for them to share this information with each other. Brig wasn’t sure how, but he knew that her adolescence was somehow to blame for her condition. He had replayed that morning through his mind and he still could not come up with what had set her off. The doctors had asked him to think of anything that could have upset her, even they had read the review of her performance and could find nothing. Little did they know how wrong they were.

In a haze, Summer could sometimes hear Brig talking to her. She was comforted to know that he was here with her, but wished that he wasn’t so stubborn and would take a break for just a little while. The rest of her time was split between reliving the nightmares of her youth, the concert in Singercreak, the horrendously patronizing review, her inadequate attempts to open her eyes and the usually, yet sometimes nightmarish, peaceful sleep.
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A screeching pierced the air as the warning bell sounded signaling the beginning of the school year. Summer Winters hurried down the hall hoping to avoid the throngs of fellow classmates. She could sense that she was not alone as she rounded the corridor. Wearily she wished for the crowds she had been trying to avoid. She was shy and had been sheltered as a child so now, with the passing of her parents Summer had found herself in a world completely foreign to her. She had attended the last month of the previous school year and was not looking forward to this one. Her vacation had been lonely, filled with the emptiness she felt with her every breath. Her parents had been her best friends. Together they traveled the world, spending much of their time in Europe, preferring the quite countryside to the noisy hustle and bustle of London, or New York. Summer had been taught by private tutors and had never attended a regular school. Her playmates had been the children of other dignitaries. With her parent’s death, she had gone to live with her mother’s sister and had been enrolled in Singercreak High the last month of her junior year. The other kids mistook her shyness for contempt, her European sense of style for conceited, snobbishness. In truth, they were so intimidated by her that they couldn’t help but be crudely mean to her in their inadequate attempt to forgo their own shortcomings. Even inexperienced young adults could tell that Summer was different and they were afraid of entering a world in which they knew they could not compete.

A hand shot out from a doorway, the class ring, catching the light of the bare overhead bulb, blinding Summer. Confused, she stopped not knowing she should run or scream. Without warning, she found herself being pulled inside, the light went out as a thick sack was placed over her head. Her hands and feet were bond and Summer found it hard to breathe. With a loud click, the door was shut. She tried to scream but discovered that her voice was barely audible through the sack. Summer struggled and finally managed to loosen the ropes that held her wrists. Without hesitation, she removed the sack and breathed a sigh of relief. With a little more difficulty, she untied her ankles and begin groping the slimy walls for the light switch. Summer could feel the spiders crawling on her arms and vigorously tried to shake them off to no avail. Suddenly the door was thrust open as the janitor came in. He stopped surprised when he saw Summer and admonished her as he ushered her out of the supply closet. He thought she was just some love sick teen-ager whose boyfriend hadn’t shown up yet, he had no idea of the horrific truth and neither would anyone for Summer was for to proud to tell. The boy who had done this to her would never have the satisfaction of knowing how terrified she had been. That was her only defense. She would not acknowledge that the event had even occurred.

Ricky Whicker stared in disbelief as Summer Winters sauntered in to the Science lab. He knew he had tied the ropes loosely but couldn’t figure out how she had gotten the door open so quickly. She had only missed half of homeroom and looked as cool and collected as ever. He was taken aback by her demure.

Summer smiled sweetly at Ricky as she took her seat beside him. He smiled back certain that she knew it had been him. He figured that since she was smiling at him and he wasn’t being called into the principal’s office, that she was cool with his little prank. He decided that the best way to get to know this diva was to ask her out. Than he could find out what was behind the cool exterior that had bewitched him the year before. He cleared his throat, preparing mentally for their date when the bell rang and Summer gathered her books and headed for her first hour class, leaving him alone in the lab.

Summer was determined to stay surrounded by as much of the vast school population as possible. She would do anything to prevent a replay of that morning’s incident. She forced herself to concentrate on where she was and where she was going instead of who was around her. Constantly, she found herself wondering if the perpetrator was beside her, or behind her. Was he waiting to grab her again. Had he seen her or did he assume that she was still locked in the closet. What had he planed for her? Had he just left her there as some sort of cruel prank or was he planning on coming back for her latter and what would happen if he did? Summer screamed as the hand gently touched her back. Her knees felt shaky as she looked into the face and saw Ricky. Slowly her heart returned to its normal rhythm ... then started its usual upward swing that it did whenever she was near him. Last year, he was the only person who had even tried to be her friend. Ricky lived near her aunt and they had run into each other periodically over the long lonely summer. She had been too shy to do little more than say hello whenever he passed but secretly she felt as though she knew him. His blue eyes were so kind and understanding. Summer felt as though he really did understand her, although of course he couldn’t. Summer had never told him anything about herself.

Ricky Whicker was a popular jock with a complex persona. While many people knew him and thought of themselves as his friends no one knew the real Ricky Whicker. He had many dates and most of the girls in Singercreak would have died for the chance to go out with him, with their parents blessing. Yet he only dated casually and when the night was over the girls would cry themselves to sleep wondering what they had done wrong for the simple kiss goodnight, left no doubt that there would not be a second date. Ricky felt as though he were all alone. No one knew him and he was determined to keep it that way. When Summer Winters first moved to Singercreak, he was taken aback. She was someone who could relate to his life, if he gave her the chance. That scared him and Ricky did not like being scared. So he was always friendly whenever he saw her and spoke to her as he did everyone else, yet he was always searching for a way-out. He had known that they would have homeroom together and saw her when she left early to find the class. Knowing the school inside and out he was able to get to the janitor’s storage just before Summer. Using the key he had stolen two years before, he slipped inside and found the tools to terrify her with. He could see it all very clearly. How her lilac eyes would bulge and her pale skin would become even paler. He could hear her screams and pleas and he laughed as he waited for her to arrive. When she did, he knew that he had her where he wanted her, but he was not anywhere that he had ever been or wanted to be again. For when he looked down at Summer, she looked so helpless and vulnerable that he felt almost as if he were the one bound. He had to fight the urge to go back and untie her as soon as he shut the door. But that was just why he had to do this to her. To teach himself that she was like all the others and that he had to think of her like that. Yet Ricky knew that she was different from the other girls and the rest of the students at Singercreak High. In fact, he knew instinctively that she was very similar to the real him, that no one else knew.

Ricky straightened his bow tie for what seemed the hundredth time, as he stood in front of the mirror. Tonight was the prom and he was supposed to pick Summer up at 7:00. He had been busy planning the whole night. It would be the most romantic and horrifying night of her life. Ricky felt paralyzed as he stared frozen by the image reflected at him. A handsome, tall, well built young man with sandy hair and hazel eyes. That was what the world saw when they looked at him, but Ricky saw the truth. Beyond those hazel eyes that looked like they could cast spells, were the workings of pure evil. Within his mind there was a constant struggle to gain or maintain control. His heart was good and full of the love of life, yet somewhere in the depths of his soul was a monster. Was its goal nothing more than to make him miserable? He knew that was why he always meant to push Summer away and always played those sick pranks on her. She had no idea that he was the one, nor would she ever have guessed. He had wiped her tears away and held her close after each one, starting with the day he had locked her in the storage closet. Ricky was the only one she had told and she had sworn him to secrecy. Little did she know that the very person with whom she trusted was the very source of all her nightmares. Tonight there had been a tremendous struggle and now the demon smiled back at Ricky as he adjusted his cummerbund.

Summer jumped as she heard the doorbell ring. It was with trembling, sweating palms that she turned the knob when her aunt called from the bottom of the stairs. Tonight was a big night for her. It was her first prom, her first dance. She had been to parties with her parents where there had been dancing, but not where she had a date and certainly not on the arm of Ricky Whicker. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her burgundy gown as she gazed in the mirror at the end of the hall, one last time. She smiled as she found herself looking at a mixed image of her parents. Summer ran her fingers threw her hair, readjusted the barrette and started down the stairs where Ricky waited.

Ricky breathed a sigh of admiration when he looked to see Summer on the landing. Inwardly he snidely laughed as she came floating down towards him. Oh, the night he had planned. First to the dance, then...

With all of his might, Ricky fought the battle for control against the dark side of his being. This time he had to win. Summer’s aunt snapped a picture of them as Ricky slipped the corsage on her wrist. However when they latter developed the picture, no one could explain what had happened. For the picture looked like something never seen. It almost appeared like there was another person half in, half out of Ricky. When anyone looked at the pictures of the prom, they all found it funny, how Ricky always had "red eyes". Summer had not laughed, though, for she too now knew the truth.

Ricky was exhausted when he had finally defeated the beast. At least for now, Summer was safe. He told her that he was not feeling well and it might be best if they didn’t go after all. He claimed that he didn’t want to get her sick, but her aunt reassured him that it was just a case of his nerves and she ushered them out the door, snapping photos. When the prom’s photographer’s flash blinded him, Ricky’s demons struck their fatal blow and sent him screaming into the unknown. Now he understood why fate and destiny had always pulled him and Summer together. She was his only chance of being saved. If Summer wasn’t able to defeat the evil powers, than he would be lost forever, and so would she.

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Brig was reading the paper when Summer opened her eyes. His red hair was the first thing she saw. “Hi,” she whispered wincing as pain shot through her arm when she tried to stretch.

“Summer! Thank God, I was so worried. Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Brig exclaimed as he stroked her cheek. “No, wait. Let me get the doctor, you just rest and don’t’ try to move or talk too much,” he breathed into her hair before heading to the door. When he reached the door, he turned and smiled back at her, thanking God for saving her.

The doctor scratched his head as he placed his stethoscope back around his neck. He smiled warmly at Summer. It had been almost three weeks since she had been brought in. They had run every test and had come up with nothing, no one knew what was wrong with Summer Winters or why she wouldn’t wake up. Now, just as unexplainably, she was awake. “Well,” he began as he cleared his throat. “I sure am glad to see you’re feeling better. Now, maybe you can tell us what happened. It has been the mystery of the medical society. At least one doctor form every prestigious hospital from around the country has spent the last three weeks trying to figure out what was wrong with you.”

Summer turned to Brig questionably, “Three weeks? I have been out for three weeks! Brig, what about the concerts? Did the media find out, oh of course they did, I missed a dozen concerts!” Then her eyes widened as she realized they were still in Singercreak and she inhaled sharply as she remembered the review in the paper.



Summer Winters tossed her hair, annoyingly as she and Brig fought incessantly. The few members of the press who had managed to sneak onto the ward were frizzily trying to take notes from which to write their stories. Someone from the “New York Times” had been smart enough to bring his mini tape recorder and the others looked at him enviously, until a quick-eyed nurse caught a glimpse of it and took it, harshly escorting him away. While they could all tell that the fight was intense, no one could tell what it was about, for Summer and Brig both knew how to argue gracefully and keep their voices low. If not for the tensions that so obviously hung in the air, no one would have even suspected that something was wrong. But something was dreadfully wrong and Summer felt as though her entire life was beyond her control. For the first time since they had met she felt as though she did not know Brig and was forced to push away the feeling that he was somehow the enemy.

Brig could not understand what was wrong with her. Summer flipped out when the doctor had insisted that she stay in Singercreak for some additional tests. Brig tried but couldn’t understand what the problem was. As he had tried to explain to her, due to the blizzard with the near white out conditions, travel was just out of the question. He thought that she would like to stay and visit with some of her old friends. Of course since her Aunts passing, she no longer had any family here, but this was where she was born, where her parents had been from and where she had spent the last years of her adolescence. He instinctively knew that she needed her rest.

Somewhere in the depths of her soul, Summer knew that she was acting irrationally but she couldn’t seem to get control of her emotions, no matter how hard she tried. In her mind she kept seeing the review in the paper and the picture that had accompanied it. There was something that bothered her about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. All she knew was that she had to get out of Singercreak and wouldn’t look back. This time when she left, she would never return.

Brig breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor came back into the room. Maybe he could talk some sense into Summer. Even if the doctors were willing to let her leave, there was no way they could endanger the band and crew by traveling in such severe conditions. As the doctor again tried to explain to Summer why she must stay for at least a few more days, Brig took the opportunity to sneak out for a breather. What awaited him when he opened to door to the hall, brought him back to reality and all the reasons why he had to make sure that Summer recuperated.

The media bombarded him with question after question. Some asked ridiculous ones insinuating anything from she was expecting a child to having A. I. D. S. Brig looked at them and spoke cautiously. He did his best to convince them that Summer was simply suffering from exhaustion and hinted that a part of her subconscious wanted to stay in her hometown for a little while longer than had been allotted for. This however forced him to retract when someone asked if he was saying that Summer’s “spell” was a publicity stunt. Finally, Brig was able to pacify them for the time and they retreated down the hall and out of the hospital. Brig knew that the time was now or never if Summer was going to leave the hospital without all of the fanfare. He rushed back into her room only to find her in inconsolable tears.
Brig and the doctor quietly conversed in the corner of her room, Brig watched her questioningly. The doctor explained that he had finally gotten Summer to understand that it was just not medically safe for her to travel and that it was against his better judgment to let her leave the hospital at all. He had promised her that she would be free to leave Singercreak with in two weeks, with his blessings.

Brig gathered up Summer’s belongings as well as his own and hurriedly packed them in the duffel bag. When he was finished he looked up to find Summer frowning at him. He gave her a quick smile as he threw the bag over his shoulder and gently put his arm around her. He explained that the media had left and that they needed to leave now before they came back. “I promise, as soon as you have the okay from the doctors and the weather lets up, we’ll leave. I canceled all of your concerts for the rest of this year. I promised to reschedule all of them as soon as you’re ready, but first you need to rest. Now come on, let’s get out of here while time is on our side.” Then he helped her into the wheelchair and they made their way out of the hospital into the waiting limousine.
© Copyright 2004 Tammatha R. Conerly (writertrc at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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