Blood and Sympathy (23 page)

He gaped at me.
"Did he ... did he hurt you?"

I held up my
wounded hand. "No, I managed to do that all by myself. But no, he didn't
touch me. Unless you count jacking off and coming all over my face."

"The fuck? Who
was it? Did you get a look at him?"

I chuckled
humorlessly. "Just his junk."

Braden scowled and
said, "Unless there's a police lineup for penises, I don't think that'll
do you much good."

"No, he wore a
clown mask the whole time."

"I was worried
half out of my mind." His arms were strong and comforting, and I felt
safe. I felt his chest rise and fall rhythmically with each breath.

"I saw my
dad's car at your uncle's earlier. Did you tell him I was missing?"

He nodded. "We
tried, but your daddy figured since you two had a fight, you just ran off
somewhere and would be back as soon as you calmed down."

"And you
believed him?" I pulled away to study his face.

"No, I didn't
think you wouldn't leave without telling me. I knew something was wrong."
He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand carefully, as though he was
worried I might break. "I don't get it, Claire."

"Don't get
what?"

"Maybe it
ain't my place to say anything, but how is it that when Olivia missed church
everyone panicked? You don't show up to work and are gone for hours, and your
dad says not to fucking worry about it."

"Pfft. That's
because Olivia never did anything wrong. Olivia was always where she was
supposed to be, when she was supposed to be there. Me? I've been in trouble so
much and fucked up so many times, no one thinks anything of it when I'm not
where I'm supposed to be. It's ... expected. That and my dad hates me."

His eyes narrowed.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

"You can believe
what you want. But you saw him tonight?"

He nodded.
"Yeah, he ate supper with Uncle Jeb and me."

"Did he seem
the least bit concerned when you told him I was gone?"

His mouth twisted
to the side. "Not particularly, no."

"I rest my
case."

He cupped my chin
and kissed me. "Well, I care."

A single tear slid
down my cheek. "That's because you don't know any better."

He rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. Can you walk?"

I scrunched my
nose. "I think so, why?"

"First, I
think you need to have that hand looked at."

I quirked an
eyebrow at him. "And then?"

"And then you
can tell the sheriff what happened to you today."

Even though I was
barely able to keep my eyes open, I knew he was right. "Okay." I
wrapped my arms around his neck. "Maybe you'd better carry me."

He chuckled.
"I think I can manage that."

He carried me out
to Jeb's truck and drove me to the urgent care clinic. The nurse on duty gave
me the stink-eye and muttered something about waiting so long before I came in.
She cleaned out the wound, stitched me up, and gave me a tetanus shot. For all
her bedside manner, she didn't even have the decency to prescribe any pain
meds. Bitch.

"Can we wait
and talk to Sheriff Thirtyacre in the morning?" I asked, yawning.

"You don't
wanna go right now?"

"No," I
mumbled. I tried to give him a reassuring smile. I don't think he bought it,
but he didn't argue.

He rubbed the back
of his neck and nodded. "Okay then, let's get you home."

My eyes widened.
"Don't you dare take me to my dad's."

He squeezed my knee.
"I wasn't planning on it."

Braden Sayer

I held Claire all
night. Maybe I was afraid she'd be gone when I woke up. I'd also made sure I locked
the trailer door before we went to bed. I knew I couldn't watch her
twenty-four-seven, but I wanted to do everything I could to keep her safe.

She opened her eyes
and blinked up at me. "You're staring."

"I know."

She put her hand
over my eyes. "Stop."

I kissed her
fingertips. "Sometimes I look at you, and it scares me."

"Scares you?
That's not exactly something a girl wants to hear when she wakes up with a smoking
hot guy. What are you scared of, Braden?"

I leaned up on my elbow.
"Losing you."

She smiled, and her
whole face radiated beauty. "Hey, you're not going to lose me. Hell, not
even a kidnapper can keep us apart."

I pulled her on top
of me and kissed her with everything I had inside of me. I wanted her lips to
take away the ache inside my chest. The nagging feeling that something bad was
waiting just around the corner to snatch her away.

She broke our kiss
and sat up to pull her t-shirt over her head. She flung it to the floor and
licked her lips. My dick was already so hard I could have hammered nails with
it. She tucked her uninjured hand into the front of my boxers, making me moan
with desire. My hips lifted off the bed, pressing against her. I rolled her
over onto her stomach and yanked down her panties.

"Ooh, taking
control, are we?" She giggled and squirmed beneath me.

I stroked my dick
up and down her slit. She was so fucking wet. I needed to bury myself balls
deep inside of her. She raised herself onto all fours and I groaned. I thrust
into her, feeling the urge to take her rough and hard, but after what she'd
been through yesterday, I didn't want her to think I was a selfish son of a bitch.
Slowly, I eased back out and paused.

"Christ,
Braden, I'm not going to fucking break," she said, looking over her
shoulder at me. "Stop blushing and start moving that ass of yours."

My mouth popped
open. She never ceased to amaze me. I shook my head and drilled into her, over
and over. She fingered her clit until she clenched around me. When she cried
out my name, I felt my balls tighten up, and I came so hard it made me
lightheaded.

We collapsed into a
sweaty heap, and I kissed her in that soft spot behind her ear. "You're so
beautiful, Claire."

She faced me.
"Maybe, but right now, I smell really awful and need a shower."

I couldn't help but
love everything about her. I didn't know what I'd do if I lost her, and I hoped
to hell I never had to cross that bridge. "You shower. I'll go tell Uncle
Jeb what's going on."

Uncle Jeb was
relieved to hear Claire was okay. I told him I'd explain everything later but
needed an hour or two off so that I could take her to talk to Sheriff
Thirtyacre. I said I was sorry for missing more work, but he patted me on the
back and said not to worry about it. He told me that making sure things were
squared away with Claire's situation was more important than a few hours at the
marina.

***

Sheriff Thirtyacre
hung up the phone and waved for Claire to come inside.

She stood and held
her hand out. "Come with me?"

I nodded and took
her outstretched hand. We walked into his office, and he told us to close the
door and take a seat. I wiped my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. Being
inside the police station brought back a lot of unpleasant memories, and I was
wound up tighter than an eight-day clock.

Sheriff Thirtyacre
listened silently while Claire relayed her story. Once she finished telling him
what had happened, he asked, "Did you get a look at your assailant?"

Claire hung her head
and stared at her hands. "No. He wore a clown's mask the whole time. About
the only thing I can tell you about him is that he had blue eyes. I could see
his eyes through the mask."

"Was he a big
guy? Tall? Short? Thin? Heavyset?"

"I guess he
was probably a good half a foot taller than me. He wasn't thin or fat, but he
was built. You know, like he lifted a lot of weights or something."

The sheriff
scribbled down a few notes and nodded. "Any distinguishing marks? Tattoos?
Scars?"

Claire's mouth
rounded. "Oh! I forgot. He had a tattoo on the inside of his right arm.
The words 'sympathy for the devil.'"

I felt the blood in
my veins turn to ice water. Brogan used to say that all the time when we were
kids. "God ain't got sympathy for no one but the fucking devil,
Braden." I zoned out for the rest of the conversation; the only sound I
heard was my heartbeat echoing in my ears.

The phone on his
desk rang, jarring me back to my surroundings. "Excuse me, I've got to
take this call."

Claire and I stood
to leave, and she gave me a funny look. I hoped the guilt I felt over my
brother's sins wasn't written all over my face. It was possible I was jumping
to conclusions, but I didn't think so.

We were on our way
back to the marina when two squad cars went around us, lights flashing, heading
toward Devil's Fork Lake. Uncle Jeb came across the parking lot as I pulled
into the driveway. His brows were pinched together, and his eyes darted from
Claire to me and back again.

"What's going
on, Uncle Jeb?"

"They found a
body in the lake about an hour ago."

Brogan Sayer

Every sound made me
jump. It wasn't like me to be such a nervous fucking wreck. But things were
closing in on me. I felt like there were a pair of hands had wrapped around my
neck choking the life out of my body. As soon as that bitch spilled her guts to
the cops, they'd hunt me down like some prize buck and take me out of the game
like a trophy to hang on their wall.

I stalked from room
to room closing the blinds, checking and rechecking the deadbolt on both the
front and back doors. Sleep was something other people did. Each time my eyes closed,
I heard a noise and they popped open again.

Aja was getting on
my nerves, watching me through narrowed eyes while she pretended to sleep. Did
she really think I was that fucking stupid? That I didn't see her staring at me
like I was a spider crawling along the bottom of the bathtub?

I bent over so that
I was right in her face. "Quit fucking looking at me like that!" She
jumped and her eyes flew open. Such a good little actress. If I didn't know
better, I might have thought she'd really been asleep and that I'd surprised
her.

She leaned up on
one arm and stared at me, her head cocked to the side like a dog does when he's
trying to figure out what you're doing. "Are you insane? I was sleeping,
asswipe!" She was trying to be all tough, but I knew it was just an act.
She was scared of me, and if she wasn't -- well then, she was even dumber than
I thought.

I backhanded her so
hard her head snapped back and tears pooled in her eyes. "Shut the fuck
up, Aja. I'm sick of you opening your pie hole. You think you're running this
show?"

Her lip was split
and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away with the
back of her hand. Her eyes darkened, but she had the smarts not to say
anything. She crab-walked away from me to the other side of the bed and reached
for the nightstand.

I dove at her
ankles and jerked her toward me. "Oh no, you don't. You must think I'm a stupid
son of a bitch. Do you really think I'd let you get your hands on that
gun?"

She kept a small
handgun in the top drawer of the bedside table. I saw it one day when I was
snooping through her stuff, looking for money. When I asked her about it, she
shrugged it off and said it was because of the neighborhood she lived in. I
must've been blinded by that sweet pussy of hers because I bought her story,
hook, line, and fricking sinker.

She kicked out at
me, striking too close to my balls for comfort. I wrapped my fingers around her
ankle and squeezed until I felt the tiny bones snap from the pressure. She
screamed and I had to slap her again. "Scream again bitch, and I'll break
your neck next time."

She whimpered, and
terror was written all over her face.  She finally got that I wasn't playing.
The power I had over her made me drunk on the adrenaline pumping through my
veins. Blood pooled in my groin, and my dick throbbed and strained against my
pants like a separate entity. I unzipped my jeans and dropped them to the
floor.

Her eyes dropped to
my erection. Dirty little slut wanted me to fuck her. She liked it rough.
"Take off your panties." I said. I could have ripped them off with
one swipe of my hand, but I decided I'd rather make her do it for me.

She worked them
down around her knees and used her legs to kick them the rest of the way off.

"Play with
yourself. Let me see how wet you are." While she did as I ordered, I
fisted my hand around my shaft and began stroking myself roughly. "Roll
over onto your stomach."

Her firm little ass
raised in the air as she did, just begging for me to spank it. The sound of my
hand as it cracked against her tight skin was fucking mind-blowing. She cried
out, and I couldn't help myself--I smacked her again and again until her ass
cheeks bore bright red welts from my hands.