Blood and Sympathy Read online

  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."

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  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."

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  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.

  I groaned and dug my fingers into her skin, pulling her into position. For being such a fucking bitch and pissing me off, I was going to fuck that tight little puckered hole of hers. I spread her ass cheeks wide and forced myself inside of her. She was so fucking tight it was almost painful.

  I began sliding in and out, and the fucking whore started to match my rhythm, thrust for thrust. Her gasps and groans told me she loved every inch of my stiff shaft as I fucked her ass. The friction of her muscles around my dick felt like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I was on the verge of blowing my load and pulled out so that I could come all over her back.

  Once I caught my breath and my heart rate returned to normal, I ordered her, "Get up, get dressed. We're leaving."

  "I need a shower."

  "Fuck that, you can shower later. Pack a few clothes. We might be gone a while."

  To my surprise, she didn't argue. She hobbled to the closet while I went into the kitchen. I turned on the news to see if there was anything about Claire. I flipped through the channels until I found the local news. Yellow tape marking a crime scene caught my attention. I turned up the volume to listen.

  "For the second time this summer, law enforcement agencies are on the scene at Devil's Fork Lake, investigating an apparent homicide." The camera cut from the pretty Asian news lady to pan out over the murky waters. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I ran my hands through my hair. "This morning, a body was discovered by two fishermen. Police aren't commenting, but townspeople are speculating that it's the body of Hensteeth resident Olivia Copeland, who disappeared while out jogging earlier this summer."

  I switched off the TV and filled a duffle bag with a few of my meager belongings. I grabbed Aja's gun and stuck it in the waistband of my shorts. "Grab your shit, Aja. Let's get out of here."

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Claire Copeland

  You can run, but you can't hide. You can try to push all the ugly thoughts, the debilitating pain, to the back of your mind, but you'll never outrun it. It lays in silent wait, ready to sneak up on you at any given moment.

  Of course, I hadn't gotten over the loss of Olivia. It hadn't been long enough, nor would enough time ever pass to allow me to forget her. She was my other half. The light to my dark. The angel to my devil.

  Hadn't we been through enough this summer? Where was that loving God now? Things like this didn't happen in Hensteeth, especially not to the good reverend's family.

  Braden's arms were wrapped around my waist, half holding me up, and half keeping me from charging the crowd. The reminded me of vultures hanging around for a juicy tidbit, or a kernel of news. Their sickening looks of pity infuriating me. Yellow crime scene tape flapped in the breeze as we stood on a hill beside the lake. We watched the scene unfold like a nightmare before us.

  My knees buckled and I slid through his arms like sand through an hourglass.

  "They don't know who it is, Claire. It might not be Olivia." His words were soft, sweet and tender. I wanted to lash out at him for being so nice. What the hell was wrong with me?

  "I don't know what would be worse. Having the body be Olivia's or someone else's. Either way, whoever did this is a fucking monster, and they're out there somewhere, probably watching the whole thing." My eyes darted around the area, looking for something--someone--out of place.

  He sat on the sandy area behind me and pulled me between his thighs. "Maybe that homeless man lied about what he did with your sister's body. Maybe he dumped her in the lake after all."

  I winced. "Is that supposed to be comforting? Are you trying to make me feel better? Because it's not working." His body tensed around me and I instantly felt like a bitch. "Sorry."

  He rested his chin on the top of my head. "It's okay. You're right. It was wrong of me to say that."

  I stood and walked toward the group of onlookers. Braden jumped to his feet and followed closely behind me, ready to tackle me if I decided to bolt toward the body bag on the beach. What was it that made me want to look at things I know I shouldn't see? I rubbed my itchy palms over the front of my shorts. I was frozen to the spot, and I couldn't bring myself to look away.

  I felt a hand, warm and heavy on my shoulder, and I turned to smile reassuringly at Braden. Only it wasn't Braden. It was my dad.

  "Claire, sweetheart, why don't you come home with me?"

  I shook my head and shrugged his hand off my shoulder. "No. I'm not going anywhere with you."

  He ruffled the back of his hair, his suit jacket flapping in the breeze. "Family needs to be together at a time like this." He shot Braden a cold, pointed look.

  Something snapped inside of me, and my hands balled into fists. I whirled around and went at him like a madwoman, pounding his chest so hard enough to make him stagger back a few steps. "Family? Don't you dare talk to me about family, you hypocritical son of a bitch!"

  My voice was shrill and carried easily across the lake, bouncing off the trees. People stopped their hushed, idle whispering, and looked our way.

  "Claire!" Braden wrapped his arms around my waist and picked me up, my feet and arms swinging blindly. "Stop! Calm down. You're making a scene. Now's not the time."

  Dad straightened his tie. "Clearly, I've misjudged your young friend, Claire. Obviously he's got more smarts than I've given him credit for." His voice was hushed and lacked any compassion. He paused, searching my face, before finally shrugging. "Have it your way. But don't think I'll soon forget this ... this embarrassment. You are no child of mine, Claire."

  I watched him get in his SUV and drive away. I felt nothing, just hollow and empty. Void of any emotion. Braden stopped to talk to his uncle, and I trudged up the trail, back toward the trailer. I was exhausted. Physically, mentally, spiritually.

  A hand slipped over my mouth while an arm wrapped around my neck. Not again. I lashed out, clawing and fighting with every ounce of energy I had.

  "Whoa there, baby. Calm down." Alistair breathed in my ear. "I have something to tell you, and after I'm through, you're going to realize you fucked up. You put your trust in the wrong fucking man, hot lips."

  Slowly, he removed his hand from my mouth, and I stopped struggling. "What the hell are you talking about? Why should I even listen to anything you have to say?"

>   He wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and squeezed, leading me away from the path. "Come on, walk with me."

  After we walked a few hundred yards up the road, I wrenched my arm free of his hold. "Start talking. In case you haven't noticed, my day has been a major suckfest, and I'm not exactly in the mood for your shit."

  He took a deep breath and tipped his head back. "Always such a bossy bitch."

  I gave him a venomous glare and hissed. "Tell. Me."

  "Me-ee-ow." He snickered.

  I started walking away from him. "I don't have time for this."

  "I know who kidnapped you."

  "What did you say?" I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?" The smug look on his face made me want to claw his eyes out.

  "I said I know who kidnapped you."

  I closed the distance between us and slammed my palms against his chest. "What are you talking about?" I repeated.

  He chuckled and shook his head. "You know, for such a smart girl, you can be pretty naïve when you start thinking with that pussy of yours."

  My hands flexed and I hugged myself. "Look, asshole, if you have something to tell me, spit it out. Otherwise, this conversation is over." I turned around and started toward Braden's trailer.

  "Keep your enemies close and your friends closer." I kept walking, feeling his eyes burning against my back. "Why don't you ask that boyfriend of yours what his brother's been up to lately?"

  My feet stopped moving, but I didn't turn to face Alistair. "Why the hell would Braden know what Brogan's doing?" I felt my guts twist into knots, afraid of his answer.

  "Brogan Sayer is on the run. He escaped from juvie. I overheard the two of them arguing the other night about something." Alistair stopped talking, enjoying this way too much.

  My mouth hung open in disbelief. I started shaking my head back and forth, "You're fucking lying."