Fall Forever (Fall For Me)

by Marks, Melanie

  A lump growing in her throat, she stared at the outstretched hand offered to her. I should be offering him my hand. He’s finally home and I’m being silly.

  Rafe is finally home. The awesome thought seeped inside her anew, filling her once again with heart-pounding awe.

  Almost whimpering, Regan clasped her hand in his and with it came a rush of warmth.

  She brought the back of his hand up to her face and brushed it softly against her cheek, wondering if he was used to love and affection, and if the people that had taken him from them had treated him kindly. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  Rafe gave her hand a gentle squeeze but didn’t speak as he backed away, leading her into his room. She was shocked by the overwhelming scent of cigarette smoke that engulfed her as they entered. The smell almost gagged her as she tried to breathe when he shut the door.

  Incredulous, she gasped. “Mom and dad let you smoke in here?”

  “Uh, yeah, they do.” He found a blue t-shirt on his cluttered floor and slipped it over his head. “My doctor—Dr. Heath—told them to. He says smoking’s an outlet for me. They only let me smoke in my room though, not the rest of the house.”

  She liked his voice a lot. It was husky, and kind of seductive in an innocent sort of way. Meaning, it was just the way he talked. He wasn’t trying to seduce or anything. Still, she was certain he must have girls falling at his feet.

  “Why’re you smiling at me like that?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

  “I’m just so happy that you’re here.”

  “Yeah?” He gazed at her curiously. “I have my shirt on now.”

  He said it as though he knew that was the reason she had hesitated to hug him earlier. But how could he know that?? … Of course he couldn’t, but the way he was gazing at her made her feel as though he could. It was as though he could read her thoughts. But that was silly, of course.

  Why was she having such strange feelings today? What was the matter with her? Maybe she was just overemotional because he was home. Maybe that’s why she felt so confused and shy at his gaze—she was simply overwhelmed with happiness.

  Also, I practically didn’t get any sleep last night, she reasoned with herself. I’m strung out.

  Fearful of staring, which she suddenly seemed to have a tendency to do, she glanced about his room.

  “I heard you playing your guitar.” She noticed he had not one, but two. One was an electric, leaning against his amp, the other a twelve-string acoustic.

  “Yeah.” Rafe picked up the twelve-string. “Playing’s another outlet for me—at least that’s what the doctor said. He said playing’s therapeutic.”

  Regan could believe that. Listening to him now as he strummed softly was therapeutic for her as well. It calmed her.

  “You’re really good,” she gushed with awe. “Where did you learn to play?”

  Rafe shrugged, tearing his gaze away from her. “I didn’t exactly learn. I just play.”

  Regan blinked. His music was haunting and beautiful—the most beautiful music she had ever heard. It did strange things to her heart and filled her with physical emotion. It was sort of like being wrapped in a hug, warm and comforting. Yet at the same time, filled her with longing.

  He’s never taken lessons? How can that be?

  Regan sat beside Rafe on the bed, remembering how his music had called to her. How she had stood outside his door with her heart pounding. Maybe she had only imagined the awesome beauty of his music. Maybe she was so thrilled to have him back, anything and everything would touch her strangely—touch her soul and fill her with awe.

  She stared at Rafe. She had so many questions she wanted to ask him, but Donnett had warned her not to pry into his past. So she asked him something else instead. “Do you remember me?”

  Rafe flicked a look in her direction, then quickly looked away. “I sort of remember you,” he murmured, gazing intently at his guitar. “But, no, not really.”

  “We’re twins,” she informed him, wondering if he already knew that.

  “Yeah,” he smiled. “That’s what they said.”

  “You didn’t remember having a twin?”

  He tensed his jaw muscles, seeming reluctant to answer. “I hardly remember anything—and what I remember—” He shook his head, not going on with that thought. “I kind of remember you though, sort of—things about you. Only, I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not.”

  Regan was silent a moment, watching him, wondering why he wouldn’t look at her. “I remember all sorts of things about you,” she murmured. “But then, I’ve always been here, with pictures and things to remind me.”

  “I didn’t have a picture,” he said softly.

  “No. I know.” Her heart went out to him as she thought of him as a little boy with nothing to remind him of home or the people who loved him. She rested her head on his shoulder, wishing that somehow she could change time.

  Rafe put down his guitar. He stroked her hair lightly, then quickly jerked away as though he’d done something wrong.

  He ran a hand over his face, “Sorry.”

  Warm tingles shot through her body from his gentle touch. But it had felt good, not bad. So not bad.

  “No! It’s okay,” she protested, trying to pull him back to her. She rested her head against his chest, sort of in an awkward half-hug.

  Rafe didn’t exactly relax, but she was shocked that she was able to do this. Normally, being near a boy these days filled her with unease. But with him she felt lifted to another world, enveloped in heavenly warmth and comfort. Utter bliss.

  And this moment—she felt it was important. She wanted Rafe to feel loved and welcomed in their home. She wanted that so bad. And for them to be like normal brother and sister—able to hug and show affection.

  They sat in silence a moment, not needing to talk. It was strange being with him like this—so intimate, hearing his heartbeat. Feeling safe. And cared for. She felt that—his love. It seemed to seep through his heart.

  Already she felt so close to him that she didn’t think she could bear going back to school and leaving him. She never wanted to be away from her twin again, not ever.

  “Man, your hair’s beautiful,” he murmured reverently.

  His compliment sent a pleasure through her that she didn’t understand. Forever she had gotten compliments on her hair. It was long, and full, and the most amazing color known to man—at least that’s what she’d often been told. She was used to the compliment, and it didn’t usually mean that much to her. In fact, after her horrible experience with Michael, her ex-boyfriend, hearing the compliment from a boy sent her into a panic. But she didn’t panic hearing the compliment from Rafe. Hearing it from him brought her nothing but delight.

  There was a knock at the front door. Regan stiffened, not wanting to answer it, afraid if she left, when she returned Rafe would be gone—poof. Just another dream.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Rafe murmured softly, seeming to read her hesitation.

  Reluctantly, Regan rose from the comfort of his arms and grabbed a flannel shirt from off the floor, slipping it over her leotard as she ran downstairs to answer the persistent knocking.

  Regan opened the door … then wished she hadn’t.

  “Uh, Regan. Hi.” Her father’s part-time assistant, Parker, looked surprised—and delighted—to see her. The college intern cleared his throat. “Uh. Has your father left already?”

  She nodded.

  “I was afraid of that.” He gazed at her longer than he should. “I thought you went to an all-girl school that only let you out on the weekends.”

  “I do,” she answered, not wanting to explain why she was home. She just wanted him to go away. She didn’t know Parker all that well, but he was attractive and obviously interested in her, so he terrified her.

  “Regan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  She tried to protest, but Parker just barged in, scaring her far more than it should, she knew that, but it didn’t stop
the panic that rose in her chest.

  “Look, Regan I think somewhere there’s been some sort of misunderstanding between us.” He shut the door. “I didn’t run over your dog or anything, did I?”

  “I don’t have a dog,” she murmured, though she knew what he was getting at.

  “Then what have I done?” He came closer to her as she cowered away. “Why do you act this way?”

  If he wasn’t scaring her so badly she would have felt sorry for him. He seemed genuinely hurt by her behavior and he had every right to be, since he’d never been anything but kind. But she couldn’t help it. She was afraid of him. She just wanted him to go away.

  “Most girls like me,” he said, coming even nearer. “Why won’t you just give me a chance?” She shrank back in to the corner of the foyer, ready to scream for Rafe if he came another inch closer.

  “You seem to be afraid of me,” Parker murmured, “but I have no idea why.” He went to touch her hair, and she begged him to go away.

  “I think you should go,” Rafe said.

  That was the first time either Parker or Regan noticed him standing in the foyer watching them.

  “Yeah, I am,” Parker said, eyeing Rafe curiously, then he brought his gaze back to rest on Regan. “I think you have me confused with someone else, Regan. I’m not a bad guy.”

  When Parker left, Regan stood in the corner, trying to calm her spazzing heart. She was glad she hadn’t screamed for Rafe to make Parker leave. But she was glad Rafe came to her rescue just the same. It made her feel safer knowing that he would be around to protect her. And, for some reason, she felt he could … protect her.

  “Why were you afraid of that guy?” Rafe asked, after watching her for a moment as she stood in the corner, taking deep, long breaths, trying to calm her racing pulse.

  “She’s afraid of everybody,” said their little sister, Carly, as she entered the room. She stood beside Rafe, taking his hand. She was in her nightgown, and her hair was disheveled from sleep. “You’re up early,” she said, gazing up at Rafe adoringly.

  “Yeah, I am,” he agreed with a grin. Then he furrowed his brow. “Why’s our sister afraid of everybody?”

  “Because her boyfriend killed himself out in our front yard, and then after that everyone was mean to her—really, really mean.”

  Rafe gazed at Regan questioningly, and she looked away. Carly had a big mouth for such a little kid.

  “I’m going to watch cartoons, do you want to come?” Carly offered, still gazing up at Rafe.

  “No. I think I’m going to talk to Regan for a minute.”

  Regan winced, knowing what he wanted to talk about.

  “Okay, but come and get me when you eat breakfast,” Carly instructed as she skipped away. The two of them already seemed close. Regan was jealous that she’d missed his big homecoming. She wanted to be her brother’s friend too.

  “What was she talking about?” Rafe asked, watching Regan closely once Carly had left the room.

  Regan wished with all of her heart Carly hadn’t told him. She had wanted Rafe to think she was normal—not that she’d exactly acted normal when Parker had come. She knew she hadn’t. But before that—before Parker came and ruined everything—they had been getting along so well.

  She didn’t want Rafe to know about Michael, about what he did, any of it. She was too ashamed, and talking about it hurt too much. Still she didn’t want to alienate Rafe with the knowledge that she had things she didn’t want to share with him. She wanted them to be close, and tell each other everything. She didn’t want secrets between them. And yet, she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Michael. It was just too painful.

  “Nothing.” She tried to sound light about it, but how does a person sound light about something like that? She swallowed. “It was a long time ago.”

  Rafe looked directly into her eyes, and suddenly, she wanted to blurt out the whole story—everything. More than just the Michael stuff—everything. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Instead, she just stood there, frozen.

  “Okay,” he finally said, still watching her. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She smiled stiffly.

  Rafe wet his lips. “Well, I’m going to go take a shower.” He started to walk away, but then turned back to her, gazing directly into her eyes. “Later though, Regan? Will you tell me later?”

  Regan swallowed, not knowing if she could. But she gave a slight nod anyway, wanting to make him happy.

  Rafe gave a slight nod back, his eyes lingering on her as though he was concerned. Finally he turned away.

  Still standing in the corner, Regan watched him head up the stairs, wishing, somehow, that she had confided in him. But how could she? She couldn’t talk about it with anyone, anyone. Not even him. But she had a niggling feeling that she would. She had a feeling he was going to change her life.

  ***

  Rafe’s shower was cold—purposely. He got being a brother. He did. He felt it instantly toward the little girl—Carly. But Regan was another matter altogether. The word that came to mind wasn’t “brotherly.”… Though, yeah, okay, he felt the brother thing towards her, too. He did. That part of the boy’s memory was still there—strong. Making his emotions even more complicated—two intense, totally opposite feelings colliding. Instantly, making his feelings for her way too intense. And run the gamut. There wasn’t a deep emotion he didn’t feel for the girl he’d thought about, dreamed about for the past ten years. But all the emotions she stirred inside him, they all led to the same thing—want. He wanted her. All of her—body and soul. And he knew that wasn’t right. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

  Still, he couldn’t help feeling grateful that there had been a moment—one glorious glimpse of a moment—when Regan first saw him—that she’d been confused, uncertain. For that moment she’d seen all of him—Drake, Rafe, both. But now she’d thrust the Drake away, only seeing what she wanted—Rafe, her brother. So, though it caused him agony, he would be that for her, her brother. He would be anything she wanted, give her anything she wanted, anything. Unfortunately, he knew all she wanted from him was that—to be her brother.

  He growled, What kind of hell is this?

  Finally, he met the girl he’d dreamed about for the past ten years, only to learn he couldn’t touch her. He could never touch her.

  He growled again.

  It was ironic. When he first arrived here—back where the boy had actually been happy—he was unable to believe the universe had been so kind as to let the boy finally come home. His heart had reveled, learning the pleasure of a family’s love.

  These few days, he truly started to believe his mission might be over, he was finally free to feel joy. He actually let himself believe it might be true … until this morning when his eyes fell on Regan gracefully dancing in the sunlight. Then his heart knew hell. His mission wasn’t over. The universe wasn’t kind. Of course. Only how could it be so cruel?

  Why did he have to go through this torture? (Her brother!) Why was he here?

  ***

  The entire Turner family assembled in Dr. Heath’s office at 9:15 that morning. Having just finished a session, Rafe was already there. He raised his eyebrows, looking uncomfortable as everyone piled in.

  “Can I, um, wait outside?” Regan heard him ask the doctor.

  The man gave her brother an incredulous look. “We’re going to be discussing you. Wouldn’t you like to stick around?”

  Rafe said nothing more, but slumped back in his chair, looking uncomfortable. Regan was left with the impression that his answer was no, he didn’t want to stick around. But the doctor didn’t seem to notice, or chose to ignore it, turning his attention to the family.

  He explained that Rafe hadn’t had a structured family life since he’d been taken away, and that he had no concept of what it meant to be part of a family as far as emotions were concerned. The Flynns (the couple that had abducted him, Regan learned) had really confused her brother. They’d ma
de him call them his parents, and yet they hadn’t treated him as a child. Dr. Heath didn’t go into how they did treat him, saying that would be betraying Rafe’s confidence, but he urged that each family member try to talk with Rafe themselves, and get an open line of communication going.

  “It’s crucial that you take into account that this young man hasn’t had a traditional up bringing in any sense of the word,” the doctor informed the family. “He’s confused about what’s expected of him, and how he should behave, not only as a member of society, but also as a member of your family.” The doctor folded his arms, gazing intently at each sibling. “It’s up to you to show Rafe what it means to be a family, and to help him, not by criticism of his mistakes, but by example.”

  Dr. Heath stressed that Rafe had no concept of what it meant to be a son, or brother. It was something he was going to have to learn. It wasn’t an instinctive trait—at least not in Rafe.

  Furrowing his brow, the doctor turned his attention to Mr. and Mrs. Turner. “Your son is accustomed to living on his own.”

  He explained that it would be hard for Rafe to adjust to a bombardment of parental rules. “You’re going to need to give him a lot of space in areas that might under other circumstances seem out of the question to you as parents.”

  The doctor emphasized that Rafe was innately a good person, and that he had a strong desire to please them, but had no idea what was expected of him as a son.

  The family learned that Rafe used to be on drugs, but was now free of the addiction. “He’s a chain smoker though,” the doctor pointed out, turning his gaze to Mr. and Mrs. Turner. “At this time, I wouldn’t recommend trying to make him give up the habit, but perhaps set limits on it, such as, he can only smoke in his room, or outside—I understand an arrangement of this kind is already in effect?”

  Both Mr. and Mrs. Turner nodded, and the doctor scribbled something in his notes.

  “Also,” he gazed thoughtfully at Rafe, then back at Mr. and Mrs. Turner, “I’m aware that you’re concerned about Rafe adjusting to home life, and school—and these are valid concerns. But your son has stressed a desire to work and make his own money. And I agree with him. It would probably be best if he did. He’s not ready for total reliance. He needs to hold on to some of his independence. It’s going to take time—patience. At the moment, your son doesn’t feel secure enough to have dependence on anyone, not even his family.”