Shattered (Guardian Series Book 1) Read online

  Shattered

  Guardian Series, Book 1

  Shawna K Rockey

  Edited by: Meredith Peachey

  Copyright © 2020 by Shawna K. Rockey

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.

  [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  In loving memory of my mother, Dianna Kay (Dunkle) Rockey

  1953-2018

  Because of your love and your faith in me, I’ve made my dream become a reality. You once told me that I missed my calling in life and should have been a writer. That conversation has been in the forefront of my mind ever since your passing, and for that reason, I am dedicating my first book to you.

  You may be gone but never forgotten. I love you, Mom!

  Acknowledgement

  God, thank you for guiding me, placing the right people in my life at the right time, and giving me the wisdom and courage to fulfill my heart’s desire.

  To the love of my life, Cameron: I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you!

  To my two beautiful girls, Annalese and Brynlyn: I am proud to be your mother and love you more than life itself. Always follow your dreams, no matter where you are in life or how old you are. You can accomplish anything as long as you put your mind to it.

  To my father, Sgt. Bernie Rockey: Thank you for your service and dedication to our country. Your continuous love and support will always remain in my heart. You are a great father and grandfather to me and my children.

  To my sister, Jess: Thank you for always being there when I need you the most. The best part about being sisters is that you are stuck with me.

  To my Nieces and Nephews: Keep being you! You are wonderful the way you are.

  To Patty: Thank you for raising Cameron into the man he is today. He’s a wonderful partner and father to our children. Thank you for loving me and supporting me in the decisions I’ve made over the years and for being a great grandmother to our children. I love you!

  To Marcia: You have been apart of my life long before I can remember. You were a great friend to my mother and our family. Thank you for being there for me when I needed someone the most. You are an awesome person inside and out. I love you!

  To Barry and Cheryl: Aside from my parents, you have been very influential and positive role models in my life. You took me under your wing and taught me many, wonderful life lessons. I’ve grown to love the simple things in life because of you. Your faith in God and support in me will never be forgotten. I love you, always!

  Lasting friendships are hard to find, and I am truly blessed to call each of you my friend. A shout out to those who helped make this dream possible.

  Becky A, Deb L, Delleana W, Emily B, Kayla R, Kim S, Logan HC, Missy M, Quinn E, Ruth N, Sonia G, Susan F, and everyone in HIM and the Education team.

  Bobbie and Melissa: You are my two longest, dearest friends. You’ve been a part of every high and low of my life. Your support, unwavering love and confidence you have in me is enough to last a lifetime. I know in the depth of my heart that it doesn’t matter where I go in life, you will always support me. You both are my sisters by love.

  To my wonderful editor and friend, Meredith: Thank you for all of your hard work and dedication to help make my dream become a reality. I value your knowledge, criticism, and have the utmost respect for you. I am blessed to have you as my friend and confidant.

  Table of Contents

  Jaycee---10 years ago

  Guardians---Always Watching

  Jaycee---10 years ago

  Guardians---Always Watching

  Jaycee---10 years ago

  Guardians---Always Watching

  Jaxon---10 years ago

  Jaycee---10 years ago

  Guardians---Always Watching

  Jaxon---6 years ago

  Jaycee---6 years ago

  Jaxon---6 years ago

  Jaycee—6 years ago

  Jaxon---6 years ago

  Jaycee---6 years ago

  Jaxon---Present

  Guardians---Always Watching

  Jaycee--Present

  Jaxon--Present

  Jaycee---Present

  Jaxon---Present

  Jaycee---Present

  Guardians---Always Watching

  Jaxon---Present

  Jaycee---Present

  Jaxon---Present

  Jaycee---Present

  Jaxon---Present

  Jaycee---Present

  Guardians---Always Watching

  To Be Continued

  About the Author

  Jaycee

  10 years ago

  The start of summer is supposed to be fun and exciting. I should be hanging out with my friends and stuffing ourselves with junk food and engaging in juicy gossip; but that’s not how my summer is going. I’m bored out of my mind. My parents are at work, my brother is who knows where, and I’m left with nothing to do. Watching television or entertaining the family dog is fun for a short while, but then it too becomes tedious. This is going to be a long summer.

  I stand inside the dining room and stare out of our french doors which overlook the large backyard. Our house sits on less than an acre of flat ground, made up of luscious green grass that is always freshly manicured. Fully matured pine and maple trees are seated at the edge of the property line; I can barely see the corn fields through the rows of trees. We have a large, 27-foot round, above ground pool with crystal clear blue water, surrounded by a large deck that wraps around the pool. My mom added a touch of personal décor and placed potted plants on the deck. She planted tiki torches a few feet apart circling the pool and added lounge chairs on each side of the pool deck. At nighttime, the tiki torches shine bright with a hint of amber, the flame flowing wildly in the air, sets the relaxing mood.

  It’s a gorgeous day today. The humidity is low, and the temperature is 83 degrees; the sky is a beautiful, rich blue punctuated by clouds that are engorged and that disperse through the sky with various shapes. The large, inflatable clouds are the best type of clouds to find hidden treasures while using your imagination.

  I decide I want to lounge on our pool deck and sunbathe while searching for these hidden treasures in the clouds, so I return to my room and slip into my fire-red two-piece bikini and collect my phone and bluetooth speaker on my way outside to the pool.

  I stretch out on the pool chair looking directly up into the sky and immediately spy an image of a dragon. The tail is barely visible at the end but the closer it gets to the body of the dragon the more bloated the cloud appears. The head has an oblong appearance with a detailed facial outline that shows fire lines spewing from its mouth. That’s pretty cool. It’s amazing all the details you can see, if you just look for them. I lay here listening and humming along to the music while I contemplate my next move.

  After laying in the sun for an hour, I decide to go for a walk. It’s not too hot or muggy outside so the bugs shouldn’t be too bothersome.

  As I stand up to gather my things, I happen to look around me and I notice the creepy
guy from two houses down staring at me. His name is Rick Nevins, he lives in town, but works at my neighbors to help care for their horses. Rick really gives me the heebie jeebies. He comes to my house regularly when my parents aren’t home, asking for tools or supplies of some sort. I firmly believe it’s just an excuse for him to see me. He comes over so much that I’ve stopped answering the door. Those are the days I stay inside and act like I’m not at home. It seems like when my brother’s and parents’ vehicles are gone is when he comes. If there is a vehicle in the driveway then, sure enough, he doesn’t stop by.

  I don’t know anything about him, other than he’s probably in his twenties and drives a little red beat up car. He’s slender, scrawny and not very attractive. His hair always appears greasy that or he hasn’t showered in a few days. Who knows, it could be a combination of both. Nasty! Just my personal opinion.

  I carefully place the towel around me and gather my things then proceed up the cobblestone walkway into the house.

  As I walk inside, I hear one of the music stations is blaring from the television in the living room. I enter the house through the sliding door in the dining room. Our living space is open. I can see my kitchen on the right, the living room on the left and the dining room in the center. There are three bedrooms nestled down a long hallway off of the living room. Each bedroom has their own bathroom. Our house appears larger on the outside than it is on the inside, but it doesn’t matter to me, I love our cute little house. I listen more closely to the music playing in the background and hear “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. I sing along as I enter my bedroom.

  My bedroom is a decent one with a walk-in closet and my own private bathroom. My walls are painted grey with a hint of lavender and my trim is white. I have dark gray, almost black looking hardwood floors with a cream colored accent rug in the center of my room, though it slips, slightly, under my bed. I picked out the wall color myself. My mother picked out the carpet and home interior pictures on the wall that embody flowers and images of little children.

  I quickly change into shorts and a pale green tank top. Should I wear flip flops or my slip-on shoes, I ponder. I choose not to get my feet dirty, so I slip on my white van slip-on shoes and head out for my walk.

  I live in the heart of central Pennsylvania in a very rural community surrounded by farmland. Most of the houses on my road have an acre or more of land except for the farmers who certainly have much more acreage. I’m thankful I live on a typical country road and not in a development where everyone is on top of each other. I like my space. The only downfall is there aren’t any other kids around my age who live close by. It gets rather lonely most summer days.

  I head out my front door and turn right, thankfully, that direction is the opposite one of Rick and the horses. I decide to walk to Gypsum Creek, taking the brim of Spider Creek Road until I reach Gypsum Road. The creek is about half a mile or more down this road, which isn’t a highly populated or traveled one.

  It’s a dirt road, only large enough to accommodate one vehicle. If a second vehicle approaches from the opposite side, then one will need to pull over to allow the other vehicle to pass. Gypsum Road is approximately three miles long, connecting Spider Creek Road to Peek Valley Road. There are only three families who live on the stretch of Gypsum Road; I only pass one house--the Boone’s-- on my way to the creek, the other families live past the creek.

  I could walk through the first two sets of fields directly behind my house and turn right at the four-wheeler path, then proceed down a narrow terrain with high brush. If I took this path, it would put me in the center of Gypsum Road, at the halfway point to the creek. The other option I have is to continue through three sets of fields and down a steep passage, which stops at the base of the creek. Most of the time I do take the short cuts, but, for some reason, I decide to take the longer route today.

  My mind is at ease as I turn on to Gypsum Road, the epitome of a country lane--heavily wooded. I am constantly looking in the tree rows to make sure no wild animal or snake will sneak out at me.

  I make my way around the sharp bend and pass the Boone’s homestead. They have two small children, a boy and a girl. The kids are normally outside playing and I typically invite them to come on walks with me when I see them outside. They are very sweet kids. They live in a moderate sized house, with cream colored siding. The yard is swallowed by rotted cars and vehicle parts.

  I continue on and notice an old beat up black pick-up truck heading in my direction on the road. I slow my pace and walk closer to the road’s edge to make sure there is enough room for the truck to pass.

  The truck slows down to a snail’s pace. I look up, smile, and nod—a common acknowledgment gesture. Then I happen to notice this guy is straight faced and staring at me. What the hell is he staring at, I mumble to myself. He needs to put his eyes back in his head.

  He continues to slowly move past me which suddenly makes me feel uneasy. I’ve had people pass me before on this road, but this feels different. I decide at that moment that I need to speed up my pace.

  I stand at 5’1 and roughly weigh 120 pounds with a well-defined body from my legs to my chest, which I inherited from my grandmother. Being well endowed brings a lot of unnecessary attention to a 14-year-old girl, especially one who doesn’t like the attention. And right now, I’m receiving that unwanted attention.

  I hear a loud noise behind me and realize the truck just turned around in the Boone’s driveway. “Oh shit! He is coming straight for me,” I say aloud.

  The driver hammers the gas pedal and, reactively, I start to run. I have never run so fast in my life. I can hear the little rock pebbles flying in the air and ricocheting off the bottom of the truck.

  “Damn it, where can I go,” I say aloud. If I can make it to the halfway point, then I can hide in the heavy brush and hopefully make my way to the fields. I just need to keep running. I am almost there.

  I race up the embankment before the four-wheeler entrance and run up the steep hill. The weeds and underbrush are thick in most areas which makes it difficult to penetrate through without getting whipped by the branches. I hear the roar of the truck’s engine and realize he’s coming up the four-wheeler path. Oh my god! This guy is insane. I quickly hide behind a tall, green leafy thick bush and try to control my breathing, hoping he can’t hear me. Slowing my breath, though, is extremely difficult to do. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s going to explode. I don’t even have time to be scared. I need to stay focused.

  I peep through small openings of the green brush and long twiggs. I see he made it to the top of the path. He opened his truck door and perches halfway out of it, standing on the inside cabin as he looks for me.

  “Hey girl, where did you go? I’m not going to hurt you. You can come out. I just want to talk to you,” he snarls.

  Guardians

  Always Watching

  Psalm 91:11-12 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

  Before a human is born, their life is meticulously planned and laid out before them. God sends his earthly bound angels to reincarnation training where they are taught the basic principles of life. During training, the reincarnate angels choose their personality type, family, friends, hobbies, and passions they will possess on their short time on earth. They review challenges humans’ encounter and how to make personal and social connections with oneself and others.

  Perched high above the mountains, Archangels Josiah and Camael watch the scene unfold in front of them, on earth. They’ve been assigned to Jaycee since birth and have thwarted many enemies, false prophets, and unwanted persons. Each person Jaycee encounters, they too, encounter the archangels assigned to them, but only when the angels want to be seen. If they don’t trust the other human’s angel or their motives, then they try to steer Jaycee in another direction. Of course, there is always freewill, and every person is ultimately in
charge of his or her own destiny. The angels guide, encourage, and protect their charges, regardless of each decision and the outcome of those decisions.

  “Josiah, she is our assignment and her best interest is our main priority,” Camael asserts, as she tucks in her long, wide, white layered wings.

  “I know that Camael, but why does she keep putting herself in these situations?” Josiah responds. “She must sense something is wrong. She needs to listen to her intuition and start using the gift God gave her. The world just isn’t safe anymore.”

  “What?! I can’t believe you just said that.” Camael exclaimed. “Are you saying she brought this on to herself? What exactly did she do to deserve some mentally unstable psycho chase her or have that creep Rick constantly staring at her? She doesn’t realize it, but he peeks on her more than she thinks. She lives in the middle of nowhere and has an innocent’s awareness of kidnappers, rapists, or pedophiles. Jaycee is completely oblivious to the world around her. She feels safe where she is. She is safe there. We just need to make sure she makes it home.”

  Camael paused and looked around. “Oh no, Josiah, he turned around. She is never going to make it to the halfway point.” Camael yelled.

  Josiah slightly opened his mouth and released a small breath, producing a light wind which helps propel Jaycee forward at a faster pace. He knows that she needs to move faster so she can maintain a good distance in front of the truck. He also knows Jaycee is a smart girl, who knows the area, the fields, and the paths like the back of her hand. Josiah has all the confidence that Jaycee knows where to go, he just needs to help get her there.

  “Camael, you need to help calm her now!” Josiah demands. “He’s speeding up the four-wheeler pathway. She’s breathing too erratically. He’s going to hear her.”