Page 77 of Cozen

“The lavender oils help in the air, too.”

“They make me sleepy.”

“Maybe you need to sleep more, child.”

Maybe.

Or maybe she needed to finally call it quits with this life of hers. Stop chasing the next thrill. Find her peace in something else other than being a thief. Relax into stability. Something she felt was never really tangible to someone like her.

“Definitely sleep more,” the woman said. “Sleep is—like laughter or sex—one of nature’s best medicines for us humans.”

Who was Cozen to argue?

“I will place hotter rocks on your pressure points, and down your spine. We will let them set for a half an hour—at least until they cool. I’ll add a bit more oil to the diffuser as well. Do you want some sounds while you wait?”

“Rain,” Cozen murmured.

“Rain is a good choice.”

She loved the sound of soft rain pelting down to the ground, on windows, or even a roof. Hours and hours of rain when she was tucked away and warm could take away any stress Cozen might have been feeling.

“Do you want it on—”

A knock on the private room interrupted the woman from finishing her question. Cozen frowned because she wanted to get on with her massage, and the best part of it was still yet to come. Not to mention, there should be a sign on the door requesting quiet and privacy as all massage rooms had.

“Sorry, just give me a minute,” the woman said. “We usually don’t have our sessions interrupted, so it must be important.”

“No problem.”

Footsteps echoed as the woman approached the door when the knock echoed a second time—more persistently. She heard the creak of the door as it opened, and then the sound of it closing. Cozen suspected the woman stepped outside to chat because she couldn’t even hear murmurings.

Despite being interrupted, Cozen was still pretty relaxed at the moment. So much so, that when she closed her eyes, she was sure that she fell asleep for a spell. Or as close to sleep as she could get. Long enough, anyway, that she jerked a bit when the sound of the door opening made her eyes fly wide again.

Cozen didn’t bother to lift her head to check who it was that had come back into the room. She assumed it was the same woman who just left—the masseuse for her hot rock massage. The footsteps coming across the room weren’t particularly lighter or heavier, but the woman didn’t speak as she came closer to Cozen.

Rocks moved against steel.

The boiling pot, she knew.

The first smooth, circular rock to touch Cozen’s lower spine almost made her hiss from the heat coming in contact with her flesh. It was hot—almost too hot, really. Still, the cool temperature of her skin helped to soothe the initial sting, and quickly, it felt like the rock was sinking deliciously into her spine.

Pushing into the stress.

Cutting through it.

Sucking toxins away.

Absorbing bad energy.

Taking it all away.

The next rock was placed slightly higher on her spine. And then again, and again until she had several rocks—all of varying sizes and weights—up her spine. The next rocks were placed on her shoulders, although they were far larger and heavier than the ones on her spine.

A beat of time passed, as though the woman was letting those rocks settle into Cozen’s skin and muscles before she moved onto the next phase. Two smaller rocks were then placed at the dimples on her lower back. Two larger ones were placed against the spot known to be where kidney pain often presented the strongest.

It was sometimes believed that rocks were like magnets. And when presented with heat, rocks could absorb many things from the human body. From stress, to illness, and otherwise. Cozen wasn’t sure if she particularly believed any of that, but it certainly felt good enough for her to ask for one more rock on the back of her neck. A spot that had been particularly hard lately—like a knot had formed in the muscle.

“Right here,” she said, lifting a hand and pointing at the spot. “Please.”