Blood and Sympathy Page 15
The rest of our meal was eaten in silence. I didn't have anything to say. Claire wasn't ready to open up about things, and Uncle Jeb's wheels were turning in silence as he mulled over the situation.
Claire and I were about to walk back to my trailer when Uncle Jeb spoke up. "Claire, I think I know what your daddy's all worked up about. I'll talk to him if you'd like me to." He winked at her and patted her hand.
"Thanks Jeb, but you don't understand."
"I think I do. Does it have anything at all to do with you spending time with Braden?"
Her eyes rounded and darted in my direction. She heaved a heavy sigh and nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Your daddy's a good man, but sometimes he can be downright pig-headed when it comes to thinking he knows what's best for his girls. Braden being fresh out of juvie probably don't help the cause much."
She lowered her eyes. "He needs to practice what he preaches."
When we got outside, I asked her, "You fought about me? He doesn't want you spending time with me?"
"I don't care what he wants, Braden. He doesn't know you like I do, and I'm tired of him talking out the side of his mouth. The good reverend needs to get his head out of his ass and stop being so judgmental."
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Brogan Sayer
"She works at the bait shop during the week." Alistair took a puff of his cigarette and flicked it into the parking lot. "She's there every morning bright and early."
"So what the fuck you want me to do with her after I get her?"
"There's an abandoned house a few miles out. You can take her there. It's close to a fishing cabin that belongs to my dad." He grinned. Fucker had it all figured out.
"Where is this place?" I shifted in my seat and scanned the parking lot. There were a handful of people, but none of them were paying any attention to what we were doing.
He slapped the roof of my car and said, "Follow me." He got in his truck, and I followed him out of town.
A few minutes later he pulled down an overgrown lane and came to a stop in front of a shack. We got out and he pushed through the front door. The dump was empty except for a few broken-down pieces of furniture.
"How soon can you get me the money?"
He smirked and reached into his back pocket, retrieving a plain white envelope. "Here you go, Ace."
Ace? What a dickhead. "Should I count it?"
He shrugged. "Suit yourself. It's all there."
I stared at him through narrowed eyes. It wouldn't hurt my feelings any if he met with a tragic accident. He was a cocky bastard, and maybe I was too thin-skinned, but I didn't like him. Of course, I didn't have to be his best friend to take his money.
I crammed the envelope into my back pocket and turned to leave.
"So, when?"
"I want to check things out first. Get a plan together. I can't exactly afford to be sloppy." I put my car in gear and drove off before he could open his mouth and annoy me any more than just looking at him did.
I'd seen all I needed to see. I'd be waiting for pretty little Claire Copeland when she got to work Monday morning.
PART THREE
AUGUST 2014
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Claire Copeland
I'd never slept in the same bed with a guy for the whole night before, not counting the times I passed out naked with Alistair beside me. I wasn't exactly proud of some of the things I'd done in the past, but I wasn't totally worthless like my dad believed I was. Not all the time, anyway.
Sleeping next to Braden was killing me. I ached for his touch, a touch he was reluctant to give me. Our previous encounter under the backyard sprinklers made me crave him like a woman dying of thirst that only he could quench.
I'd spent most of the night with his bare chest pressed against my t-shirt covered back. I slept fitfully, most of the time staring at the paneled wall beside his uncomfortable double bed. Had his erection not been poking my backside, I might have thought he wasn't attracted to me.
Finally, just as the first birds of the morning started singing, I wiggled my ass against him. He was too much of a gentleman to act on the intense sexual attraction simmering between us, and I was too unladylike not to.
His breaths became more ragged with each backward rock of my hips. I was done with being patient and coy--not that I'd ever been that way where he was concerned--and I wanted him inside of me.
I reached between our bodies and sought the throbbing bulge straining to be free of his boxers. He groaned my name as I began to work my hand firmly over the thin cotton fabric separating our bare skin. I maintained a steady, even pace, and when he met my strokes with his own, I knew there would be no stopping this time.
When I rolled over to face him, his eyes were closed, and his expression the closest thing to heaven on earth I'd ever seen. My heart squeezed inside my chest, and warmth pooled in my lower belly.
I stopped stroking his thick shaft long enough to tug the t-shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. His heavy-lidded gaze drank me in as though he was trying to put out a fire inside of himself.
"Claire," he whispered. "I don't deserve you."
A sad smile twitched at the corners of my mouth. I pushed him onto his back and straddled him, grinding my underwear-clad pussy against his erection. "I need you, Braden," I whispered between kisses. I slid down his tight body, kissing his tanned, muscular chest as I went. I licked along his happy trail before I hooked my thumbs beneath the waistband of his shorts and yanked them down.
His dick sprang free, and the sight of it was pure fucking bliss wrapped up in a box with a bow. When I sucked his hardness between my lips, he tried to sit up. I gently but firmly pressed him back down with the palm of my hand.
"Claire." He said my name so softly that I almost didn't hear him.
"Hmm?"
His back arched off the bed, his fingers tangled in my hair. Not that I minded him coming in my mouth, but I ached with need. I smiled slyly at him as he slipped free from my swollen lips.
"I don't have any..."
I pressed my mouth to his to silence his feeble protests. "I'm on the pill."
I moved the thin slip of my panties to the side, not willing to waste anymore time, and rubbed the head of his magnificent dick against me. I was slippery wet and more than ready to feel every inch of him. I'd never been into the whole dom-sub thing, but being in control, and calling the shots was proving to be a powerful turn on for me.
He sucked air into his lungs as I took the length of him deep inside me in one swift move. I think my eyes rolled back in my head a little bit at the pleasure of him filling me up. His hands gripped my hips as I inched slowly up, almost to the point of disconnection, before slamming back down. He felt so fucking good. I reached for his fingers, and they went to work on my swollen clit.
I wasn't going to last very long with him filling me so completely. Each time I took him deeper, I rocked against his hand. My head fell back and I closed my eyes as I rode him.
He growled and moved his hands to my hips, gripping me hard and flipping us around so that I was beneath him. I watched his cock slide in and out and pinched my nipples as he pounded into me.
I reached between our bodies and fingered my clit. It was enough to take me to the edge. "Braden!" I cried out as the first waves of orgasm washed through me, my pussy clenching his cock in spasms, milking him.
"Oh fuck," he said, his body going completely rigid. He grunted something unintelligible and collapsed against me, his chest heaving. After our breathing evened out he spoke again. "You realize you've created a monster now, right?"
I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah, how's that?"
"I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands off you now, Claire." As if to emphasize his point, he reached down and tweaked my clit between his thumb and forefinger.
"You're a fast learner," I gasped.
"Can't wait for the next lesson."
As much as I wanted a repeat, we needed to get up and get
ready for work or we were both going to be late. Even if working at the bait shop hadn't been my idea of a great summer job, there was no way I'd let Jeb down.
"Hold that thought," I said. I gently removed his hand from between my legs and kissed his fingers. "If we're late to work, your uncle will skin us alive."
"That's so hot."
I frowned at him. "What's hot? Being skinned alive?"
He laughed and shook his head. "No, you kissing my fingers that way."
We quickly showered and dressed. I gave him a lingering kiss before leaving him at the marina to jog down the path toward the bait shop.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Braden Sayer
I was exhausted, and by mid-morning, I found it hard to stay awake. The ratchet I'd been using had slipped three times already, making me smash my thumb. I sucked it into my mouth, getting hard instantly because it reminded me of Claire. Everything reminded me of her and walking around with my dick straining at my jeans was uncomfortable as fuck. I stayed behind the workbench to keep from becoming embarrassed in case someone wandered inside.
I rested my forehead in the crook of my arm and closed my eyes for a few minutes. Next thing I knew, Uncle Jeb was blowing an air horn, causing me to jump and nearly piss my pants. He cackled at the expression on my face and I shot him a disgusted look.
"Wake up, kid." He shoved a paper bag under my nose. "Take this down to Claire. I 'spect she's just as worn out as you look."
I blushed from the top of my head down to the soles of my feet. I snatched the sack from him and grunted something about how friggin' funny I thought he was before stalking out.
The bait shop door stood propped open, as usual, but when I stepped inside, Carl sat behind the counter. He was a grizzled old man who thought he owned the place, and sometimes filled in when Uncle Jeb needed help. He worked all Fourth of July weekend, but he wasn't supposed to be here now.
"Carl?"
He lifted his rheumy eyes, studying me as though trying to figure out who I was and how I knew his name. He'd been around some when I was a little boy, but he'd only seen me a couple times since I'd been back.
"Whatchoo want boy?" He spit tobacco juice into a stained styrofoam cup and wiped his chin.
My eyes skated around the room looking for Claire. "Where's Claire?"
"'Ell if I know." He shrugged. "I figured she was takin' another day off when I got here for some stink bait earlier and the doors was still locked up tighter than Sister Mary Katherine's knees."
The pulse pounded in my ears, and I was across the room in two strides and in his face. "What are you talking about? She's supposed to be working today."
He cocked his head at me and worked the chaw packed into the side of his cheek. "Well, I don't rightly know what to tell you, but she ain't 'ere, boy." His attention drifted to the bag clenched in my fist. "Whatchoo got there?"
I threw him Claire's lunch and shot out the door, running all the way back to the marina. A sick feeling had settled in the bottom of my stomach like oil sitting on top of water. Uncle Jeb sat on a rusted metal chair tucked beneath the shade of an awning when I skidded to a stop in front of him.
He lifted the cap from the top of his head and peered up at me. "What's got into you? You look like the devil himself is chasing you."
I bent over with my hands on my thighs to slow my breathing. The words whooshed out of my mouth. "Claire's not at the bait shop."
Uncle Jeb's eyebrows dipped together and he pushed to his feet. "Slow down. What do you mean she ain't at the bait shop?"
I raked my hands through my hair and started over. "Carl's working. He said when he stopped to buy some bait this morning, the place was still locked and Claire wasn't there. She never showed up for work, Uncle Jeb."
"Calm down, son." He put his hands on my shoulders. "Before you go jumping to conclusions, let's think this through rationally. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation."
I threw my hands in the air and jogged across the driveway to my trailer. I prayed she was there, but the brick sitting on my chest told me she wouldn't be. I jerked open the front door, and it was as quiet as Sunday morning inside, except for the ticking of the old clock on the kitchen wall. Claire wasn't there. I retraced my steps back toward the shop.
Uncle Jed hollered, "Anything?"
I shook my head.
"Maybe she wasn't feeling good and went home."
I knew better. Claire wouldn't have left without letting me know, and she definitely wouldn't have gone back to her daddy's. "I think you should call the sheriff."
Uncle Jeb blew out a noisy breath. "I'll call her daddy first. You go on down to the bait shop and wait. Maybe she'll show up."
She wasn't going to just show up. Something was wrong, and my fists curled and uncurled with tension. And dread.
I went back to the bait shop to tell Carl he could go on home. He grumbled something about it being too late to go fishing anyway, and stayed. I paced around the stuffy room, wanting to pull my hair out or break something. Where the fuck was she? I walked outside, around the shop, and stood at the edge of the lake. The gnats swarmed around my face in a buzzing cloud, and I batted them away from me.
The heat was oppressive, and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. Fear. Anger. Confusion. You name it, I was a freaking mess. There was no point in me sticking around the bait shop with Carl. Imagination filled my head with all kinds of fucked-up crazy shit.
I trudged back up to the marina. I'd never felt so helpless in my life.
Uncle Jeb was on the phone in his office. He saw me and motioned me inside. I dug my hands into my pockets while I waited for him to wrap up his call.
"I thought you were gonna wait at the bait shop."
"Carl's there."
"That old coot eats all my beef jerky and drinks all the Sundrop. He should pay me to work there."
I snorted. "Did you find out anything?"
He shook his head. "No. Her daddy says she's not home. He's going to call Sheriff Thirtyacre. He's convinced she's taken off out of spite because of their argument."
"Bullshit."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "This is a family problem now, Braden. It's best if we stay out of it."
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Brogan Sayer
It's amazing how dark it was this morning at the edge of the lake. I stood in the shadows near the bait shop. Watching. Waiting. The thrill of the hunt. I stared into the parking lot, so I almost didn't see her when she came walking down the path from the direction of the marina.
I moved fast. I had to get to her before she unlocked the door and went inside. I was able to overpower her from behind. I clamped my hand over her mouth right away to keep her from screaming.
She was a wiry little bitch, a real wild thing, but nothing I couldn't handle. I figured I'd get her into the trunk of the car and take her out to the cabin, and then fuck the fight right out of her snappy ass.
I wore a mask to cover my face, I didn't want her to know who I was in case something went wrong and she got away. Once I got her inside the shack, I'd let her see who I was. I'd let her watch everything I had planned for her.
Her eyes widened when I took the roll of duct tape off my arm and slapped a piece over her pouty lips. Fuckin' cunt had bit me in the process. I quickly bound her wrists and ankles, and popped open the trunk of Aja's car before tossing her in like a sack of potatoes.
Within a few minutes, I pulled the car in front of the cabin. As soon as I made sure the place was still deserted, I slung her over my shoulder and carried her inside. I threw her onto the rotting mattress on the floor.
"Home sweet home." I laughed at the look in her eyes. The way they went round as quarters. My identity was still a mystery to her, and I liked it that way. It added to the fear pumping through her veins and the lust pooling in mine. I was one horny motherfucker.
I knelt down so that I was eye level with her and ripped the duct tape from her mouth with one swift yank. Tears spra
ng to her eyes, and she blinked furiously, too tough to cry. Damn, maybe she was too much woman for that sissy ass brother of mine. Once she regained her composure, her gaze narrowed venomously.
I worried maybe when I took the tape off her mouth she'd start screaming. It didn't really matter if she did. There wasn't anyone around to hear her. Instead, she leveled me with her eyes. When she spoke, it was quiet and controlled, just like she was asking a stranger for the time.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I don't think I want you to know who I am, Claire. Not yet, anyway." I licked my lips and palmed her face with my hand. I felt her jaw muscle tighten beneath my touch, but to her credit, she didn't flinch or cower away from me. My eyes drifted south to the thin tank top stretched across her firm tits. Her nipples were hard, proving how much she wanted me to fuck her. I bet if I probed my fingers into her sweet spot, she would be sopping wet and ready for me.
My cock instantly hardened to granite. I wanted to fuck her in the worst way. Instead, I stood with the bulge in my pants just inches in front of her lovely face. I tugged down the waistband of my shorts to let her see what she'd be getting later. She had the guts to pretend she didn't want it and turned up her nose.
That pissed me off, so I tangled my hand in her hair and jerked her head back to make her watch while I stroked myself. "You don't have to play, wild thing. I know you want me to fuck that sweet little pussy of yours. I can smell you from here. I'm going to make you beg for it first."
"Go fuck yourself."
I tipped my head back and laughed. "Don't mind if I do." I spit into my hand and tightened my fingers around my dick. "And I'm going to come all over that filthy little mouth of yours."
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Claire Copeland
When he grabbed me from behind, crazy thoughts tumbled through my mind. What if the stupid cops had arrested the wrong man? What if this was the real person responsible for Olivia's disappearance? Was he going to take me to where my sister was? Did he have her holed up somewhere? Was she still alive? Or had he already murdered her, and was I about to meet the same fate?