Rachel Joy Scott Journal Novels & Stories

Rachel never batted an eyelash at the numbers, letting the purchases pile up in the chauffeured car. I flipped open the cover, landing on the article about me. Rachel had placed a large sticky note over the first paragraph with the words, “are you sure you want to read this?” I smiled and lifted it off the page. I liked Rachel. She had a subtle sense of humor that caught me off guard. She was fiercely protective of Jack, and the love and respect she had for him only made me like her more. She had grown up in a smaller town than mine, and we spent much of our shopping excursions swapping stories about home. She was quickly becoming the older sister I never had, and I was more than grateful to

“Our comforts came from one another – crazy to crazy and becoming sane. She came like lightning from my own rainless storm and introduced me to a new world. But it will be mine once we get out of there. Although, I first got out and no news from her afterwards.” ‘Who could be that she? A new world?’ She wonders that she stares at the door. Finding no appealing content, then she moves to another journal, flipping a sheet to the other. “It was different but I expected it – the boy with scars on his own back could find no companion in life. Meeting with judgments from the people whom I redeemed loving, caring and all so holy. The blood I vomit they see is nothing but disgust and a grin.” Whispe

"I don't even mind it so much, and I try to be understanding of her personal situation and even her drunkenness, but then she takes it too far; every time! She'll either put her fingers under the waist of my pants, or rub over my back pockets, or she'll start kissing my neck! It freaks me out and I have to push her away and leave her standing there. I feel bad when I do it, I really do, but what am I supposed to do?! She doesn't even remember anything about it the next day." Rachel looked at me for what felt like an hour. It was hard to meet her gaze. I could feel her intense eyes assessing my natural expressions, taking in my 'energy' as it were. I was getting a little upset and uncomfortab

he talked to himself. “Mama, look what I brought!” Sky exclaimed while showing the book in her arms. Hunter and Rachel spontaneously turned around. “What is it, Honey?” Rachel asked as she filled her plate. “Uncle Ed's wife's travel journal! Do you remember, Mama? I once told you that her wife also had a journal like me. Uncle Ed was kind enough to lend it to me. How about you read this book to me tonight?" Rachel froze. Her eyes trembled at the plain brown cover. She didn't remember ever seeing the thick book, but a strange feeling tickled her chest.

Cecilia and Raymond would face justice, and River would ensure her mother's love and sacrifices were never forgotten. River's eyes lingered on the final entry, her mother's words etched in her mind like a solemn promise. "December 15th," the journal read, the date scribbled in faint, shaky script. "I see the end approaching," Catherine wrote, her words laced with a sense of resignation and urgency. "Cecilia's smile haunts me. Raymond's indifference cripples me. My final wish: River's freedom, her happiness, and her safety." The journal's final entry ended abruptly, leaving River with more questions than answers. The sudden silence was deafening, a stark reminder of her mother's tragic fate.

However, just then, two nurses who were doing their rounds passed the doorway, speaking in low voices. "Rachel next door is so lucky. Her husband stayed up all night to take care of her and did everything himself." "I know. He's handsome, rich, and devoted. I'm so envious!" Scott stiffened, and he instantly did not know where to look. My lips curled into a slightly mocking smirk, but my chest hurt from it. To break the silence, Scott pulled out a drawing from his briefcase. "Ma'am, I went to your house this morning to pick up some documents, and I saw this on the couch. I believe Morgan had drawn this, and I thought it would make you happy just seeing it."

A man possibly in his mid-fifties approached her. “Trabajo aquí.” “No, digo… fuera del trabajo.” “Fuera del trabajo duermo.” “Qué triste vida.” “Muy eficiente, en realidad.” Rachel shuts down subtle flirting with dry humour. At one point, she reached under the counter for a fresh set of napkins and briefly noticed her notebook there, slightly bent at the edges from being opened too many times that week. She hesitated for half a second before pulling it out. The pages were filled with rough sketches and short notes she had been making between shifts. Dress ideas. Fabric thoughts. A few lines about colour combinations she wasn’t even sure she liked yet.

When I suggest we try actual food, she shushes me. “They don’t want food, Ash,” she says seriously. “They want chaos. Shiny chaos.” I nod gravely. “And your journal qualifies.” “It has a ribbon,” she says, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. We spend an hour in the trees, watching the traps, whispering theories. Scarlett sketches a raven with devil horns and labels it “RINGLEEDER FLUFFTAIL.” Eventually, she gets bored and falls asleep on my cloak.

I missed him so bad already. The next few days were much of the same, and honestly, we didn’t get very far. We were all tired, and many people had families they wanted to get home to. I kept looking around, hoping to see Javi but he went MIA. I did get to meet Scott’s wife Tilly since she joined us for dinner a couple times. She was a very pretty lady, an internal medicine doctor and VP at a local hospital. Of course Scott wouldn’t just be with a bank teller or something boring. It was nice to put a more human side to Scott who was just always Mr. Serious.

There is a doubt he was ever going to forget what happened when we were just boys with high pheromones. If only I had known that Jezel was his mate, I never would have done what I did. I released a deep sigh, just thinking about my rough days. I bet my mate or anyone else ever knew that side of me. ****** *****Rachel's POV**** I ran into the woods in my wolf form and breathed deeply as I ran. I had no idea why I felt troubled, but I knew I was running somewhere, to save someone. But who? Who do I want to save? I can't tell. All I knew was that I needed to get there as fast as my legs could take me.