Gun Shy(28)

Her cheeks are flush; her breathing quickens. I haven’t even touched her, and she’s already excited. Or scared. Or both. I want to reach between her thighs and see if it’s lust I’m reading on her face.

“What kinds of things?” she asks.

I cover my face with my hands.

“What kinds of things?” she repeats, a hand on my shoulder. I let my hands fall into my lap and fix my stare on this girl who should be home with her family, not out here in the dark in the woods and snow with a criminal. I watch in awe as she slides her seat back and reaches her hands up underneath her skirt, tugging a pair of panties down her legs and unhooking them from her heels. She can’t look at me as she hands me a pair of baby blue silk panties with a bow on the front. I grip the underwear in my fist so tight I could tear it to shreds with a single pull, but I don’t rip it. I find the damp spot of arousal in the center of the material and bring it up to my face. I close my eyes. I breathe Jennifer in.

I shouldn’t be here. Not with her. Not like this. I will get out of the car, I decide. I will walk home. I will not touch this girl.

But then, “I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she whispers.

Fuck.

I grab her. I drown her shock out with my mouth. I squeeze her slender neck with my prison-rough palms. I keep my promise and I hurt Jennifer Thomas until I’m sated.

It’s only after when I’m looking at the blank expression on her face, the odd tilt of her neck, the bruises blossoming on her spread thighs, that I understand what I have done.

By then, it’s too late.

The night Jennifer Thomas disappears is like all the rest.

Apart from the way it ends.





CHAPTER TEN





CASSIE





Damon’s brother Ray comes over for dinner every Thursday night. And since Thanksgiving is on a Thursday, we’re lucky enough to be graced by his presence. It’s a two-hour trip from Reno in good traffic. He must really miss his brother to come all this way for some conversation and a few beers every week.

I don’t like Ray. There is something about him that gives me the creeps. Something about the way his eyes linger on me for too long whenever we’re left alone together that makes my skin itch. So much so, that I make sure we’re never left together alone.

I serve dinner and everything seems to be okay. Damon’s in a strangely quiet mood, but Ray’s presence sometimes has that effect on him. I half listen to their conversation as they talk about the weather and Ray’s job. He can be pretty funny when he tells stories about the casino where he works security. I make sure to laugh at the appropriate points in the conversation to keep from pissing anybody off. Life with people is just one big act for me these days.

After dinner, I’m exhausted. I’ve eaten far more than normal, just shoveled in turkey and potato casserole mindlessly while Ray talked and talked. Usually it’s just Damon and me, and we talk about other things, and I’m too busy talking to binge eat half a turkey. I desperately need to empty my stomach.

I go upstairs and vomit up as much as I can, and then I clear the table and wash and dry every dish, and they’re still talking at the table. Damon looks distracted, and I can’t help wondering if he’s bored by Ray, too. I sit back at the table, the damp dishtowel in my hands.

Damon raises his eyebrows at me as if to say, ‘Are you okay?’ I nod. “I’m tired,” I announce to the table, as soon as there’s a gap wide enough in the conversation to interrupt. “Mind if I turn in?”

“Go,” Damon murmurs, standing at the same time as me. “Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll fix breakfast.”

Jekyll and Hyde is being nice to me, for now. I wonder if that mood will last long enough for me to sleep in, or if he’ll conveniently forget what he said and berate me for being lazy in the morning.

I’m too tired to think about it. I say goodnight, get a super awkward hug and cheek kiss from Ray (shudder), and then I pass out upstairs, face down across my bed, without even so much as taking my shoes off.

I’m awoken by a creaking noise. I’ve been sleeping deeply, so deeply that I have drool on my cheek. I sit up with a start, wiping my face as a shadow moves in the slightly cracked doorway.

“Damon?”

The door swings open, and illuminated in the hallway light is Ray.

He steps into the room, smiling like a fucking creep. “Forgot to thank you for the dinner,” he says, walking himself over and sitting next to me on my bed. He’s close enough that I can smell the beer on his breath.

“You’re welcome,” I say, moving away. If he tries anything, I will claw his goddamned eyes out.

The light snaps on. I’m blinded momentarily.

“Thought you were waiting in the car,” Damon says tightly, talking to Ray but looking me over. “I miss anything?”

Ray laughs, messing my hair up with his hand as he stands up. “Nothing worth writing home over,” he says. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I ask, fixing my hair and thinking I need a shower to get rid of Ray’s touch.

“We ran out of beer,” Damon says. “Back in five.”

I wait until they’re gone, watching the taillights out the window. Once I’m sure I’m alone, I check all the locks in the house before jumping into the shower. With a kitchen knife on the shower sill and a chair up against the door, I shampoo my hair, using every bit of hot water in the tank. Then, after I’m dressed and warm, I get into my bed, pull the covers over my head, and pass out.