Blood and Sympathy (16 page)

Rita smeared some goopy shit on the finished work
and covered it with a large bandage. "You can take this off later,"
she said, handing me a list of aftercare instructions.

Aja sat in the waiting room with her feet propped up
on the coffee table, flipping through the channels. She was engrossed with
something on the TV, and when I glanced up to see what it was, I swear to God
my balls crawled up inside my asshole to hide. She clicked up the volume and
leaned forward. "Hey, Bro... Bobby, check it out. Ain't that Devil's Fork
Lake?"

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
"It could be, I guess. Come on, let's go."

She held up her hand. "Shut up. I want to
hear this."

I bit the side of my mouth and resisted the urge
to jerk the remote away from her and turn the fucking thing off--or throw
something heavy through the screen. I lifted the baseball cap from my head and
ran my hands over the short hair, scratching lightly. My eyes focused again on
the TV. Two dogs with long, floppy ears and droopy bloodshot eyes were raising
all kinds of ruckus around an old flat-bottomed boat.
The
boat.

The camera panned to a grizzled looking bum being
led away in handcuffs.
The fuck?
"What's going on?"

She pointed the remote at the TV and turned it
off. "Some woman went missing near Devil's Fork Lake, and that man's a
person of interest. Seems those bloodhounds led the police straight to the
boat, and it belonged to that homeless dude."

"They find her? The woman, I mean?"

Aja shrugged. "That old fuck probably cut her
up into tiny little pieces to use as catfish bait."

"They say who it was?"

"The bum?"

"No, the missing woman."

Aja shook her head and handed me her can of
Mountain Dew. Rita peered over the top of her reading glasses at us while she
worked on her drawing. "I heard she was some preacher's daughter. From
over in Hensteeth. I think the name was Copeland, Olivia Copeland."

Claire
Copeland

It was the third of July I couldn't imagine an
Independence Day celebration without Olivia. She had been gone--dead--for a
month. Every day after work on my way to the marina, I passed by the spot where
the bloodhounds had found her scent inside that hobo's boat. It sent shivers up
my spine. They never dragged the lake for her body after the homeless man admitted
to killing her and disposing it somewhere else.

So, even without a body, there was a funeral, and
everyone came. Braden was my rock during those days. Families were supposed to
stick together, but the only family I had left was my dad. The man who believed
the sun rose and set on his beloved daughter Olivia. He couldn't bring himself
to look at me, and the disappointment in his eyes was evident. Obviously, he
wished I had been the daughter they'd mourned that day.

Braden and I took the afternoon off, and I waited
for him at the end of the dock, my bare feet dangling in the water. We hadn't
had any measurable rain in weeks, and the lake was at its lowest level in
twenty years.

"Ready?" The sound of his voice made me
jump. I'd been lost in my memories.

I turned to peer up at him, shielding my eyes from
the midday sun. "I should be asking you that question. Did you
study?"

"Of course. I'll ace that test," he
said, grinning. "I had a patient teacher."

I reached my hand toward him, and he pulled me to
my feet. "Let's go get your driver's license."

"Maybe when we get back, we can go for a
swim."

I looked back over my shoulder at the stagnant,
murky waters. "I'm not swimming in that lake."

"Okay. Guess we'll have to find something we
both want to do to celebrate, then."

I winked at him. "Oh, I've got a few
ideas."

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been laid,
and honestly, if Braden didn't make a move soon, I was going to figure out a
way to seduce him. His face turned bright red. I loved his naïvety, and even
more than that, I loved making him blush.

Braden dangled Jeb's truck keys in front of my
face. "Consider this the last time you ever have to drive me
anywhere."

Jeb waved at us from the shop. He'd given us some
time off to enjoy the holiday. My dad had been strongly opposed to it, but Jeb
insisted, and he'd had no choice but to go along with the plan.

Braden and I didn't have to be back on the clock
until Monday the eighth, and we'd been talking about some of the things we
would be able to do. First stop was the Driver Services Center.

Later, when he came out holding up his license, he
flashed me a mile-wide grin. The pride on his face was ice melting. He was
beautiful, and I never got tired of looking at him. He was the kindest, most
gentle person I'd ever met, and he tried so hard to make me happy. He had his
work cut out for him, but it was times like these that made my heart swell
inside my chest.

I tossed him the truck keys and waited for him to
unlock the doors. We got in, and he started the engine. It was comical to watch
him check everything so many times. I giggled and he frowned. "What?"

"Nothing. You just make me laugh that's
all."

"I don't know if that's a good thing." He
eyed me warily.

"It is. Trust me." I scooted over beside
him on the bench seat and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. I
was rewarded with another blush.

He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat.
"Where to, Clair de Lune?"

My eyes bugged and I gawked at him. "Please
don't call me that," I whispered. I blinked and turned away from the
puzzled look on his face.

He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.
"I'm sorry, Claire. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know." I sighed and shook my head,
letting out a bitter laugh. "Olivia used to call me that when we were
little. Only then, it was Claire the Loon."

"Do you want me to take you home?" he
asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"No. Home's the last place I want to be right
now." I gripped his fingers with my own. "Let's have a picnic."

We stopped at the deli to pick up a few things.
While we were there, of all the damn people in town to run into, Alistair
Anderson walked in. I tensed when I spotted him watching me through narrowed
eyes like a snake in the fucking grass. Hate wasn't a strong enough word for
how I felt about him.

Braden picked up on my mood shift, his gaze drifting
between Alistair and me. He didn't say anything but stepped between us,
blocking Alistair's line of sight. He paid for our food and wrapped his free
arm around my waist protectively. I relaxed against his side, and we hurried
out to the truck.

"Who the hell was that guy?" Braden
asked as he fastened his seat belt. "Fucker gave me the heebie
jeebies."

"Nobody important." I didn't want to
share that part of my life with Braden yet. How I used to fuck that psychopath
for something to do, and how he repaid me by running me off the road in
Olivia's car. He was the reason I still walked with a limp, and because of him,
Olivia was without her car the day she disappeared. On the days I didn't blame
myself for Olivia's murder, I blamed Alistair.

"Okay," he said quietly. I knew he
didn't like my non-answer by the way the muscle in his jaw ticked. But he
didn't press the issue, and for that, I was grateful. "Where are we going
to have this picnic of ours?"

"My backyard." It was Wednesday. Dad
would be at the church until late.

I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he
swallowed. "Are you sure?"

"Well, we could go to your trailer, but the
one time I stepped foot in that place, it must've been four-hundred degrees in
there. I don't know how you can stand to sleep at night."

"I put a fan in the window and sleep
naked," he muttered.

My cheeks flushed, and I shook my head to clear
that image out of my dirty little mind. I wanted him, and he was making it
really hard to behave myself. My restraint wasn't going to last much longer.

Our backyard was shaded by several sprawling oak
trees, and it was perfect for an early evening picnic. I ran upstairs and
grabbed a blanket from the cedar chest. I took a quick peek in the bathroom
mirror. I tucked a few strands of hair back into the braid and sprayed on some
cherry vanilla body spray before slipping back outside.

We talked and ate, and talked some more. I never
got tired of listening to his beautiful buttery voice weave stories about when
he was a little boy. In spite of what I had thought, Braden's childhood was
happy once upon a time.

The sun went down and the first stars were
starting to twinkle through the trees. I leaned back on my elbows and stared up
at the sky. He lay on his back and asked, "You believe in God?"

Sure, it was random. But it was something I'd
thought about many times, especially recently with what had happened to Olivia.
I rolled onto my side and propped my head on my hand, watching him.

"I have a few theories on that subject,
actually," I admitted after a pause. I inched closer so that my bare thigh
was against his jean covered one. I was acutely aware of the heat between us
and thought his breathing sped up to keep time with my pounding heart.

"Oh yeah?"

"I believe there's something out there, I
really do. But the things my dad teaches, about sin and forgiveness and all
that, I don't know anymore. If God punishes us for our sins, why the hell am I
still here and Olivia's gone?"

Braden was quiet for so long I thought he wasn't
going to respond. It wasn't as if I'd asked him a question anyway. He looped
his pinkie finger around mine and softly said, "Claire. I don't know that
answer, but I sure wish I did so I could give it to you."

I looked over at him and his hooded blue eyes
watched me intently. I stared right back, willing him to come closer.
Kiss
me. Kiss me. Kiss me
. The words echoed inside my head because I was too
afraid to say them out loud. What the hell was I so scared of? It wasn't like he
was the first guy I'd ever kissed.

Slowly, he lowered his face to within inches of
mine and whispered, "Okay I'll kiss you." And he did.

My arms curled around his neck and I pulled him
closer. I had waited weeks to taste those lips, and I didn't plan on letting
him go anytime soon.

We were breathless, wrapped in each other's arms.
I wanted to feel his bare skin against mine. I wanted to taste every fucking
inch of that beautiful rock hard body of his.

"The fuck, is it raining?" he shouted,
jumping to his feet.

I sat up and burst into a fit of laughter.
"It must be eight o'clock."

"Shit, fuck, I don't know, what's that got to
do with anything?"

"The sprinklers are set to come on every
night at eight," I said through giggles. He glared down at me for an
instant before his eyes softened and he started to snicker right along with me.
"I've got an idea."

"Get a bar of soap?" he teased.

"Nope," I said as I peeled my sopping
wet tank top over my head and flung it at him. Next my shorts came off, leaving
me in just my panties. His mouth dropped open, but he didn't look away, despite
of the bright red splotches dotting his face. "I've always wanted to dance
naked in the rain. And right now, this is the next best thing!"

Braden
Sayer

She danced naked beneath the sprinklers, so
completely uninhibited. I watched her from the dry part of the lawn. I knew she
wanted me to lose my clothes and join her, but I couldn't. Not that I didn't
want to, but it kept crossing my mind that if her daddy came home and caught me
naked in the backyard with his daughter, it wouldn't bode well for either of
us.

Seeing her smile for the first time in weeks made
me happy. She'd been a shell of a girl ever since Olivia disappeared. I wanted
to fix things for her, but didn't know how. This was supposed to be the time of
her life. Out of high school, her whole future ahead of her ... summer was
meant to be a time for cutting loose and having fun. So, I watched while she
closed her eyes and danced. Letting her shut out the rest of the world,
forgetting, if only for a few minutes, the pain of her loss.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her and I wanted
nothing more than to reach out and touch her, feel her naked skin beneath my
fingertips. It took every fucking ounce of restraint I could muster just to sit
and watch her spin in slow, sexy circles on the wet grass. The way she held her
arms above her as her hips swayed to the beat of some song only she could hear
made my dick harder than it had ever been.

She spun in my direction opening her eyes wide as
though she had just remembered I was sitting there admiring her for the first
time. She covered her mouth and began to laugh--sweet, almost childlike giggles
at first. Soon she was laughing so hard she collapsed to her knees in the soggy
yard.

After a few minutes, her eyes heated into
something resembling full-on lust. Not that I had a freaking clue what that
looked like, but if I had to give it a name, it was the only thing I could
think of in that moment. She began to crawl toward me on her hands and knees, and
the look of seduction was replaced with something much more predatory.

I groaned and pulled my knees up, wrapping my arms
around them. My dick was ready to wave the white flag in surrender, and the
closer she got, the more it throbbed. She was like a feline stalking its prey.

She stopped in front of me, sat up on her knees,
and put her hands on my shoulders. Her breasts were at eye level. I licked my
lips and tried to look away, but she cupped my chin with determined fingers.

"Look at me," she said. When I did, her
eyes were dark, her pupils completely dilated in the moonlight. "Dammit,
Braden, why won't you fucking touch me? Don't you like me? Aren't you attracted
to me? Do you think I'm ugly? What is it? What the fuck is wrong with me?"