Rock My Body (Black Falcon #4) by Michelle A. Valentine Read Free Book Online Page A

moan. “This is spectacular, Sue.”
    She smiles at me. “Thank you, Dr. Mead.”
    The rest of the dinner goes on with small talk taking place between the clients while Wayne interjects every now and then. I learn that most of them have been here for quite some time and were very comfortable stating what they are addicted to, talking very candidly about it.
    After it’s all over, Wayne escorts me back to my cottage, and I’m still reeling at how open the clients are. “They all seemed to have made wonderful progress. I’m simply amazed at how open they are about their addictions. That’s always the first step, admitting they have a problem, but then to be able to talk about it so freely and share their struggles is above and beyond.”
    Wayne nods. “They don’t come here that way, let me assure you. Most come here headstrong and reluctant, adamant they don’t have a problem, and that everyone else is just too uptight or meddling in their business, so it takes time for them to come around. We hold a lot of group sessions, encouraging that openness. Eventually, they become more comfortable sharing with us and others around them. Unfortunately, most of their support systems at home hinder more than help their recovery, and more often than not, we end up seeing them back here.”
    “That’s a shame—to see all that progress wasted.”
    He sighs. “It is. I always have to remind myself that we can only do so much here. Ultimately, it’s up to them to remain clean and sober with a positive outlook, and remain open about their feelings and their struggles to those around them.”
    We arrive at my stoop and I pull the key from my bra. Wayne raises his eyebrows and I merely shrug. “No pockets.”
    He laughs. “I see.”
    Once I unlock the door, I turn to him and say, “Thank you for walking me. What time do you want me to start work tomorrow?”
    “Eight sharp. We have a new client coming in the morning, and I would like to go over his case file with you before he arrives. Everything we have on the clients is electronic. I’ll email your password to access the system so you can look over it at your leisure. I would like for you to take the lead with this one, but I’ll be here to help you in any way I can.”
    I lift my chin, proud that he trusts that I’m ready to jump right into the fire and counsel the new client. “Sounds great. I’ll wait for your email.”
    “I’ll send it over as soon as I get back to my office. Goodnight, Frannie.”
    The rest of the evening, I wait on Wayne’s email. When I hear the familiar ding of a new message while brushing my teeth, I finish up and rush to the open laptop on my bed to check it.
    It contains all the proper passwords and links to access all the clients’ files, as well as the information on the client we are expecting tomorrow.
    Tyke Douglas, the bass player for the rock band, Black Falcon, will be arriving via private transportation tomorrow morning. Tyke has been enrolled by his twin brother, Trip, with Tyke’s permission. The client has had two DUIs in the past year, and reportedly has issues with prescription and recreational drugs as well.
    I tap my bottom lip, curious about the guy, wanting to know more than the small report on the client tells me. I quickly minimize the screen and pull up Google, typing Mr. Douglas’ name into the search engine along with his band’s name. Within seconds, mug shots pop up on my screen, along with the tabloid reports on the downward spiral of Black Falcon. I flip through more photos and come across one where his eyes are closed as he strums a guitar while wearing a sleeveless shirt, displaying his vast array of tattoos perfectly. While his body appears to be absolutely banging, I’m stuck on the sadness on his face—like he’s completely lost in the song he’s playing.
    I click on the biography link listed for Mr. Douglas, but it shows a combined history for both him and his twin brother.

    Trip Douglas (born