Chapter 9
Sierra
When I open my eyes the next morning, it takes me a second to orient myself. Wood paneling, bamboo accents, a wide balcony—and beyond it, a soft orange-pink sunrise. It’s beautiful. I lie still for a moment, watching the breeze stir the curtains, letting it wash over me.
Then it hits, and I bolt upright in bed.
I’m not at home. But neither am I at some random five-star resort. I’m at the New Life Retreat Center.
I drag a hand through my hair, wincing at the tangled curls, as everything from yesterday comes rushing back. I cut the spiral off before it can take hold. Yesterday was yesterday. Today, I have things to do. Starting with my car.
Luke said he’d get someone to look at it, but I don’t know if that’s actually happened. I should find him, get his number too, so I’m not chasing him down every time I need something. If I’m staying long enough to do a review, I should start filming—if that’s allowed.
I should check with Luke. What if he says no? What if they don’t want anyone seeing whatever shady things go on here? Or maybe it’s about client privacy. That, at least, would be fair. I’m already planning to avoid filming anyone directly, and blur any faces I might catch accidentally, but still.
If Reid shuts it down, I’ll probably do it anyway, just more carefully. If this place really is some kind of cult, someone has to expose it.
I shower, tame my hair into something passable, and change into fresh clothes. Then I grab my vlogging camera and step out onto the balcony for the backdrop.
“Hi guys!” I say, repeating it a couple of times until I get the tone right—enthusiastic, but not fake.
“So, we’re doing something a little different today.
After my last video on pseudoscientific remedies creeping into the mainstream, I figured I should actually try one myself, so…
Here I am at the New Life Retreat Center.
Full disclosure, I’m staying here for free—but they tell me it’s a pay-what-you-can model, so technically I guess anyone can come, as long as they meet certain criteria, which I’ll get into later.
Don’t worry—free stay or not, you’re getting my honest take.
As always, everything will be science-based. ”
I wrap up, pocket the camera, and head out. The smell of coffee hits me almost immediately, guiding me down the hall to the dining area, where breakfast is being set up.
“Excuse me?” I ask one of the staff moving quickly between tables. “Do you know where Luke is?”
He points toward a room across the hall and around the corner, where someone is wheeling out a tray of fresh plates. “Thank you,” I say, heading that way.
Even before I reach it, I hear laughter—deep, genuine, voices overlapping as they try to land the punchline. I step inside and find Luke with two other men, chopping fruit and working a stove loaded with pancakes and French toast.
He’s laughing—really laughing—as a younger, blond guy across from him delivers what sounds like a painfully bad dad joke. The kind that should make you cringe, but Luke and the other seem to love it.
I find myself smiling before I can stop it. There’s something about Luke—easygoing, genuine, refreshing like a glass of lemonade on a hot day. Maybe it’s the relaxed way he moves, or the constant hint of mischief in his eyes. He just radiates sunshine.
Then I remember the scars on his wrists, and my smile fades.
How much of that sunshine is real? What if it’s all just a mask? People do that—hide pain behind humor, hide sorrow behind charm. The scars looked old. Self-inflicted? Maybe. But perhaps all that’s in the past. Perhaps he’s completely overcome his demons now. Perhaps. Maybe not.
A quiet knot tightens in my chest. I want to know what happened, what pushed him there. The thought of him going through something like that alone makes something in me twist.
“It’s none of your business.” I tell myself.
That’s why I haven’t asked, even though I want to, even though the words have been pushing at the seam of my lips. If I don’t want him prying into my life, then I don’t get to pry into his, no matter how much I might want to.
“Sierra.”
I start, realizing he’s looking right at me, along with the two other men in the kitchen, one of whom has a shaved head and prominent facial tattoos.
“You’re here for breakfast?” Luke wipes his hand on a rag and walks toward me. “You’re a little early, but I can whip something up—”
“Nah, that’s okay.” I wave him off. “Actually, I’m here for something else. I wanted to ask about my car.”
“Yeah, it still wouldn’t start this morning. If it overheated yesterday, it could’ve caused some damage, so we towed it back and we’ve got someone taking a proper look at it now.”
“A mechanic?”
He smirks. “Something like that.” Before I can step back, his finger brushes my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m still making breakfast, but we can go check on it when I’m done.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re busy. I was going to take a walk around the compound anyway, so I can just stop by and talk to whoever’s working on it.”
Luke shrugs. “Okay. It’s in the shed. When you’re done, if you don’t have anything else planned, how about a Reiki session? A few of our clients are doing one this morning. You can join them.”
“Not likely.”
He smirks again. “Hey, it’s not fair if you don’t even give us a chance to brainwash you.”
“Yeah, but I don’t feel like lying on a hard table pretending my energy’s shifting when I feel nothing. I’ll check on the car, and then maybe I’ll do some sunrise yoga in my room. Speaking of which, is there any way to get faster Wi-Fi?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry. Signal’s not great up here. That’s kind of by design. We could set up something like Starlink, but that would defeat the point.”
“Yeah, I figured.” I sigh, then glance past him at the other two men watching us with open curiosity. I offer them a smile. “The meal last night was amazing, by the way. Seriously. Incredible.”
The tattooed one grins. “Yeah, Luke mentioned how much you enjoyed it.”
“He told you I ate my serving and his?”
The other man laughs. “He didn’t mention that part, but it’s good to meet a fellow gourmand. I’m Micah. This idiot here is Tom.”
“Nice to meet both of you. I’m Sierra.”
Tom makes a strange face at my name, like it sparks a memory, but Micah cuts in before he can say anything, winking. “Nice to have you here, Sierra. I don’t blame you for skipping the Reiki session. I hate it when they mess with my chakras.”
I can’t tell if he’s serious, but I nod anyway. “You know what? Me too.”
We chat for another minute or so before I slip out of the kitchen and head down the hallway toward the main entrance. As I walk, I hear low voices drifting from some of the treatment rooms. Reiki sessions, perhaps.
One door is cracked open just enough for me to glimpse inside, and I catch sight of a pair of large hands moving slowly through the air.
My steps falter.
I recognize those hands. Large, veined, with long, almost elegant fingers. I watch as they glide just above the body of the client, hovering, seemingly tracing some kind of invisible pattern.
He occasionally murmurs something as he works, but I can’t make out the words. Or maybe I can’t hear anything over the sudden rush of blood in my ears.
My imagination fills in the gaps anyway. I picture those hands on my own back, firm and deliberate, working out tension, heat spreading under my skin, sliding lower—
“You’re still here?”
I jerk around, guilty, as Luke steps up behind me.
“Nothing,” I blurt, immediately realizing he hadn’t asked a question.
His brows lift in interest as his gaze follows mine, and when he sees what I was looking at, a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face.
“Oh, the Reiki. Intrigued? You know, if you want a session, all you have to do is ask,” he murmurs. “I’m sure Reid would be more than happy to help. Or I could give it a try if you’d rather.”
My face heats. “I don’t want a session. I was just… curious.”
“Aligning energies,” he says lightly. “Balancing things out. Something like that.”
“But… you’re not even touching them. You actually believe in it?”
He shrugs. “Many people do, and it doesn’t hurt to believe in something. Some of us have to.”
“So, it’s like a religion?”
“If that makes it easier to understand, sure.”
I sigh, not in the mood for existential debates this early. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you were busy making breakfast.”
“I realized I never told you where the shed was.” He points toward the entrance. “Out the door, head left and keep going until you’re near the woods. You’ll see it. If you get lost, security can point you in the right direction.”
“Got it.” I clear my throat, trying to pull myself together, and head outside, ignoring the soft chuckle behind me.
Once I’m on the grounds, I follow his directions. I spot my car first, then the man working on it as he rolls out from underneath.
I stop dead.
Oh. My. God.
It’s the giant from yesterday, but this time he’s shirtless, and I get the full picture of the strength I felt when he caught me.
He’s built like a brick house—broad shoulders, carved abs, muscle layered over every inch of him.
Not the polished kind you get from a gym, but the kind earned through years of hard work. Solid. Functional. Dangerous.
And then there’s the V of his hips, disappearing into low-slung jeans.
My mouth goes dry.
I should look away. I know I should. Standing here staring is completely inappropriate.
Right?
Except I can’t seem to stop.
And before I can force myself to move, he looks up and sees me.