Blood and Sympathy (17 page)

The water streaming down her face had turned to
tears. She balled her fists and slammed them against my chest again and again.

I clamped my hands around her wrists, staying her
for a moment. "Claire, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. You
always have been. I want you so fucking much, you have no idea. But, I want it
to be right. The right time. The right place." I stopped talking and
motioned around the yard. "This is not the right place."

She collapsed against me, nearly naked and soaking
wet, and we fell back into the grass. I wrapped my arms around her, painfully
aware of her hip pressing against my erection. I groaned and she stilled
against me. "Thank God. At least I turn you on. That's one good
thing."

I chuckled and kissed her hair. "Thanks for
noticing."

The thing about living on a gravel road was you
could hear cars for miles on a still night. "Claire, I think somebody's
coming."

"Oh shit. Dad."

We disentangled from one another, and she zipped
around the yard gathering her clothes as she went. By the time the reverend
pulled up the driveway, she disappeared inside the house leaving me alone in
the gazebo listening to the sound of the crickets.

After a few minutes, she came back outside dressed
in dry clothes and joined me.

"You think if I left right now, he'd think I
was up to no good with his daughter?"

"Most likely," she said. She reached for
my hand and stood, tugging me to my feet. "Come on. Let's go say hi. Then
you can leave with a clean conscience."

Before I left, I made her promise to spend
Thursday with me, starting with the parade. Our first real date. My palms were
sweating already just thinking about it.

Brogan
Sayer

Aja was softly snoring beside me on the mattress.
I couldn't sleep, so I turned on the TV to see if there was any more news in
the disappearance of Olivia Copeland. She'd been dead for about a month, and
last I heard they were pinning it on that homeless guy. There had been some
talk about them dragging Devil's Fork Lake, but they evidently decided not to
do that. They held her funeral even though there was no body.

Yeah, I'd fucked up and killed the wrong sister.
It would be laughable if it didn't piss me off so much. I swung my legs off the
bed and pulled on a pair of boxers. The air was so thick with humidity that as
soon as I walked out the back door I was covered in a thin layer of sweat. It
was going to be another sauna-like day. The farmers were all bitching about the
crops needing rain and everybody was tired of the heat wave.

When I dumped that bitch's body in the water that
day, I hadn't gone too far out. If we didn't get some friggin' rain soon, they
wouldn't need to drag the lake to find her corpse. There wouldn't be much left
of it after the bottom feeders got through with it, anyway.

I sat and tried to come up with a plan. The wrong
girl was dead and I needed to fix that. They say once you get the taste of
blood in your system, it becomes a hunger, like an addiction. The power I held
over her as she struggled for her last breath was such a fucking headrush. My
only regret about committing murder was the fact that I'd fucked up and took
out Olivia Copeland instead of Claire.

Make no mistake, Claire was still going to have to
die. Otherwise, I'd be letting my brother one-up me, yet again. Screw that. I
just had to figure out how I was going to do it, and when. The last time had
been a stroke of luck. The right place at the right time--for me, anyway. I had
to do it right and not leave anything to chance.

Soon as I took care of that little problem, Aja
and I could get the fuck out of this shithole neighborhood. She wanted to visit
her brother in Mexico, and I was good with that. Anything had to be better than
nowhere, Tennessee.

Aja was in the shower when I went back inside. I
was antsy and needed to go somewhere. I hurried up and got dressed before
taking her car keys off the hook in the kitchen. If I took her with me, I'd
have to answer a hundred stupid questions I didn't feel like answering. She'd
be pissed, but she'd get over it sooner or later.

I chuckled as I thought how the way to a man's
heart was supposed to be through his stomach. Well, the way to Aja's heart was
through her pussy. I jogged down the steps, got in the car, and took off in the
direction of the marina.

Reverend Copeland didn't live too far up the road
from Uncle Jeb. It was early morning on the Fourth of July and most people were
gathered in downtown Hensteeth to watch the annual parade. Traffic to the lake
was practically nonexistent.

My driving skills had improved, but I still had to
be cautious. Wrecking Aja's car would not be good. She'd have me by the balls
and there'd be cops involved. I liked my freedom way too much to ever let them lock
me up again. Hell no.

The Copeland house sat back off the road, and I
slowed down to a crawl as I crept by. There wasn't nothing to see from the road,
and I couldn't risk driving up their lane. They'd spot this red car a mile away
so I kept on going. A mile or two past their place was where Uncle Jeb lived.
In the front, right out by the road, there was an old trailer. I coasted to a
stop and watched for any signs of life. Before too long, the front door pushed
open and my brother stepped out onto the wrought iron steps. I held my breath
and hoped he didn't look in my direction. He pulled the door shut behind him
and walked toward Uncle Jeb's house. As soon as he was out of sight, I let out
the breath I'd been holding and drove back home.

Killing the one sister was supposed to be my way
of getting even with my brother. That wasn't fucking good enough. Murdering
Claire, and doing it in a way that pointed the finger at Braden, yeah, that
would be the icing on the cake.

I grinned all the way back to Aja's, until I saw
her sitting on the back step waiting for me with a look of death in her eyes.
It would take some smooth talking on my part to get out of it with my gonads
intact. Not much scared me, but bleeding to death by castration was not the way
I wanted to go.

Claire
Copeland

Dad and I spent
most of our time avoiding each other, and it kept the peace. I was surprised he
had actually been pleasant to Braden last night. After I walked him to his
truck and said goodnight, I darted through the kitchen so I wouldn't get the
third degree. I put up with a lot of crap from my dad, but if he started in on
me about Braden not being good enough for me, I swear I would lose my patience.

I held on to my
sanity like a life preserver, and Braden was the only reason I was still
afloat. The guilt I felt over Olivia's death threatened to pull me under
constantly and make me snap like a twig.

Dad never stepped
foot in my bedroom, and neither of us had been inside Olivia's room since she'd
disappeared. I saw him standing in the hallway with his head resting on her
door once, but that's the closest thing to emotion I'd seen out of him.

Who the hell was he
trying to stay strong for? He didn't even cry at her funeral. Boy, I did. I was
a blubbering mess, and I didn't care what people thought. One of these days,
Dad was going to crack from the pressure of keeping everything bottled up. I
hoped to hell I wasn't around when it happened.

Braden would be
picking me up any minute to go to the parade. I'd been up, showered and dressed
for hours since I hadn't slept a whole lot the night before. Rather than stare
up at the ceiling, I got up. I'd heard Dad leave about an hour ago. The church
always sponsored a float in the parade. Being the control freak that he is, he
had to get to town early to make sure everything was done to his satisfaction.

As soon as Dad
left, I ran down and sat on the front steps to wait for Braden. At nine-thirty
on the dot Jeb's pickup came bouncing up the lane, and a sense of calm washed
over me. The driver's side window was rolled down and his arm was resting on
the doorframe. He had a shit eating grin on his face as I climbed inside and
scooted over beside him.

"Good morning,
I'm not late am I?" he asked.

"Nope, right
on time." I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

The annual Fourth
of July parade was supposed to start at ten, and by the time we found a place
to park and got a place to sit, it was just starting. Afterwards, we took our
time browsing through the flea market. We bought two giant blueberry muffins
from Belle's and Whistles Bakery.

"Claire, it's
good to see you, sugar," Belle said. Belle Grover was the owner of the
little bakery I was supposed to be working at this summer, before Dad
intervened.

"You too,
Belle." I gave her a faint smile. I felt guilty for backing out of the job
she gave me at the last minute, even though it wasn't my fault. "I'm sorry
about how things turned out."

"Don't you
worry about that, sugar. Whenever you're ready, the offer stands." She
winked and added, "Mama always told me it was best to hire the competition
rather than let 'em open up their own place and run you out of town."

I giggled.
"You're just being nice. You make the best muffins in three states."

She put our muffins
in a paper bag and threw in an extra one for Braden. We left and Braden bit
into his muffin, still warm from the oven. "Oh shit, you weren't kidding.
This is the best blueberry muffin I've ever had." The look on his face was
somewhere near ecstasy--an expression I wanted to see as he hollered my name in
the throes of passion. Sooner, rather than later.

I threaded my arm
through his and said, "Come on, let's go to the park."

We sat on a bench
and people watched between stealing quick kisses. But I wanted more than chaste
public kisses. I wanted deep, passionate, kisses that involved a little tongue.
He leaned in to brush his lips across mine and I wrapped my hands around the
back of his neck, intent on giving him a hint of what he was missing. His lips
were soft with the faint taste of blueberries.

"Claire."
His voice was low and he was breathing hard. We both were. "Keep kissing
me like that and I'm going to forget we're in public."

"That was my
intention. I want you to kiss me like we're the only two people in the world
who matter, Braden." I rested my forehead against his and cupped his face
with my hands.

"I know, I
want that too. It's just, well shit, I'm scared," he whispered.

"Scared of
what?"

"I'm afraid
you'll be disappointed."

I shook my head and
hugged him. "Never."

The corners of his
mouth curved into a smile, but his eyes were sad. "You say that now."

I decided to drop
the subject and just enjoy his company.

***

The rest of the day
we just wandered around holding hands. Time passed quickly, and before we knew
it, the fireworks were getting ready to start. We found a place to sit, and he
offered to run to the pickup and grab a blanket while I saved our spot.

While he was gone,
I got the creepy sensation that I was being watched. I glanced around, and my
eyes landed on Alistair. He was leaning up against a tree several yards away,
staring at me. The look he was giving me made my skin crawl. I quickly looked
away and rubbed my arms, mentally telling Braden to hurry the fuck up.

"Claire,
you're shivering. You can't be cold," he said when he returned with a
blanket.

"I'm fine."

When I looked
again, Alistair was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief and scooted close to
Braden.

After the
fireworks, the traffic out of Hensteeth was slow going with the entire
population trying to get where they needed to be at the same time. Dad's SUV
was parked in the driveway, and the kitchen light was on when I got home.

Braden kissed me
tenderly, as though he was afraid of breaking me. I wanted to scream out of
frustration but restrained myself.

"You know, we
haven't had a real date," he murmured.

My eyebrows pressed
together. "What do you call today?"

"That doesn't
count. I'm talking about where I come to the house, pick you up, and take you out
to dinner and a movie or something."

"Okay ...  so
what did you have in mind?" He was so damn shy, it was making me fidget. I
rested my hand on the nape of his neck where his silky black hair had started
to grow out.

"I'll pick you
up early, about five or so, and let you plan the whole evening. Anything you
want to do, we'll do it," he said.

My eyebrows shot
up. "Anything?"

He pursed his lips.
"Claire. I'm being serious here."

"So am
I." I grinned mischievously at him. I thought for a minute and got the
perfect plan. "Okay. You be here at five on Friday. It's a date!"

Before he could say
anything else, I gave him a quick kiss and jumped out of the truck.

Braden didn't have
a lot of money; neither of us did, and I didn't want him to go blowing a bunch
of his hard earned cash on me. It just so happened I'd have the house to myself
Friday night. Dad would be out of town on a camping trip with the youth group
from church.

I'd cook dinner for
him, show off my culinary expertise. If things went the way I hoped they would,
I'd be showing him some of my many other many talents as well.