The Body Finder

by Kimberly Derting

  Grady tried once again to kiss her, searching out her mouth, and this time she pushed him with both hands pressed against his chest, shoving him back as she tried to crane her head out of his way. “Stop it, Grady. I mean it!” She was surprised that she sounded so strong. At least her voice wasn’t as shaky as she felt.

  But he was bigger and stronger than she was, and his hands reached up behind her to the back of her head, ignoring her denials and pinning her in place. When his mouth finally landed on hers, the combination of his alcohol-soaked breath and his brutish unrestrained actions made her quiver sickly beneath him. His lips were moist and soft, but not in the way that Violet would have hoped for in a kiss, and as his tongue tried to find its way into her mouth it reminded her of a warm, slippery slug.

  She felt like she was going to puke.

  She struggled against it…against him… and her fists pounded uselessly against his chest. She was no longer so sure that she could handle this. She writhed her head away long enough to dislodge his mouth from hers, and she took the opportunity to shove her hands upward, covering her face in an effort to block him.

  “Please! Stop!” she cried, hoping that something would get through to him and he would stop trying to force himself on her. She hoped that he would snap to his senses and realize, once and for all, what an ass he was being.

  What she really wished was that he would just let her go.

  And then he did. But not in the way she’d imagined.

  He jerked away from her, and she heard a strangled sound escape from him as his body slammed against the side of his own car. She was pushing so hard against him, trying to keep away from him, that when his arms actually released her, she banged her head on the doorjamb. She heard a loud, dull thud, and then a whimper that could have been any wounded animal.

  Violet tried to keep up with what was going on, but her brain still felt fuzzy—muddled—from Grady’s unexpected groping. At first she thought that he must have slipped and fallen, or that maybe she’d shoved him harder than she thought, even though she doubted she could have knocked him down on her own.

  When she realized what was really happening, she almost couldn’t believe her own eyes.

  Jay was there, and he was standing over Grady, who was now lying in a crumpled heap at his feet. The look on Jay’s face was as murderous as Violet had ever seen on anyone before, and he was clenching and unclenching his fist as he glared violently at Grady.

  She looked down and saw that Grady was holding one hand over his mouth, and there was blood seeping from between his fingers. He held his other hand up in surrender. “Stop! Stop!”

  Jay seemed to have a difficult time deciding. And then he leaned over, his fist balling up again, ready to strike, as he reached in and jerked Grady forward by the collar of his shirt. “Isn’t that what Violet said to you, you jerk? Didn’t she tell you to stop?”

  Grady recoiled, curling up as tightly as he could and pulling his arm around his face. “Please! Don’t—” But he didn’t finish his sentence as his voice cracked vulnerably.

  Violet was stunned. Silent and dazed, she could only stand there and watch, a million unanswered questions spinning in her head.

  Where had Jay come from? How long had he been there?

  And the one question she was afraid to ask: where was Lissie tonight?

  She hated the conflicting feelings that plagued her at that moment. She was grateful that someone had saved her from Grady’s unwanted advances, and even more grateful that that someone turned out to be Jay. At the same time she was appalled that he’d punched Grady, and she felt sort of sorry for Grady despite his overzealous hands and mouth. She was also shocked by the undisguised fury she saw on Jay’s face, but she had to admit that she kind of liked that she could stir such a reaction in him. It meant that he cared.

  Even if it wasn’t in the way she’d hoped for, he still cared.

  She watched as Jay let Grady fall back to the ground. Well, not fall exactly, it was more of a shove, releasing him and making him smack his head against the car as he collapsed backward.

  But he wasn’t quite finished with his warning to Grady, and he snarled at him from between gritted teeth, “If you ever…ever… touch her again, I swear to God, Grady, I’ll fucking kill you. Do you hear me?”

  Violet was stunned by the rage in Jay’s voice as well as in his words.

  Grady just nodded, wiping his bloody hand on his jeans. He looked like he wanted to say something more but couldn’t quite find the words.

  Jay didn’t wait for him. “There’s no way you’re driving tonight, Grady. Give me your keys,” he demanded then, holding out his hand impatiently.

  Grady started to dig in his pockets and then had second thoughts. “How’m I supposed to get—?” he started to ask, but Jay cut him off.

  “I don’t give a shit; you’ll find a ride. Now give them to me.”

  Jay’s voice left little room for argument, and Grady decided not to test his luck. “Violet has them,” he finally admitted before stumbling away from them, back toward the party.

  Violet jumped when she heard her name. She felt like she’d been eavesdropping on the two of them. “Oh…yeah…” she seemed to be saying to herself as she held up the keys and then dropped them into Jay’s outstretched hand.

  For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say to him. Finally she opted for the obvious. “Thank you.” It kind of said it all.

  Jay pocketed Grady’s keys and walked over to his mom’s car. It was the car she must have heard pulling up while Grady was trying to attack her with his disgusting tongue. He opened the passenger-side door, and without so much as a glance in her direction, he turned that same commanding voice on her. “Get in the car, Violet.”

  And that was it…the end of her brief thrill at seeing Jay tonight.

  His demanding tone, which she had appreciated when it was directed at Grady, felt like sandpaper rubbing against her already frayed nerves when he used it with her. All of the gratitude that she’d felt just moments before fragmented like shards of irreparable glass, and Violet narrowed her eyes at him. The entire week without him, missing him and craving his company, seemed to melt away…and now she was the one who was furious.

  “Are you kidding me? You don’t give me the time of day for the past week and then you want to come around and start giving me orders?” She put her hands on her hips, daring him to argue with her. Her cheeks seared as her temper burned fiercely. “I don’t think so, Jay. That’s not how it works.”

  Suddenly she wanted to go back to the party…to go back to her real friends, the ones that hadn’t given her the silent treatment all week or disregarded her very existence. She turned on her heel and started back toward the house, following the trail of loud music that reached all the way down the street.

  Jay didn’t follow her. He didn’t try to talk her into staying. It hurt her feelings that he didn’t pursue her, begging her forgiveness for behaving like such a jerk.

  But on the other hand, she decided, she’d made herself pretty clear, and Jay had certainly proven that he was capable of stubbornly standing his ground. And despite her wounded ego, no matter how relieved she’d been that he’d shown up when he had, there was no way in hell that she was going to let him start telling her what to do now.

  She didn’t look back to see if he was watching her leave.

  She was too afraid of what she might see if she did….

  That Jay wasn’t coming after her.

  CHANCE

  WHEN HE FIRST SAW THE GIRL WALKING ALONE down the narrow, darkened street, he nearly overlooked her.

  It was too soon, he told himself. He had just buried one, and not enough time had passed to create the frenzied desire he usually craved.

  But there was something about her…she looked lost…in need.

  He slowed his car, way… way down, watching her progress as she made her way through the night, tripping as if she were incapable of watching her own steps. She never looke
d back. It was as if she was oblivious to his very presence, despite the unnatural beam of his headlights filtering away the darkness from her path.

  And then he realized it, like the dawning of the first morning’s light, clearing the way for the day. She needed him.

  Almost as much as he needed her.

  He moved his car closer, easing up behind her, careful to keep her in his sights should she become alarmed…frightened by his proximity.

  The silhouette she created in his headlamps was the very essence of youth. Her movements, clumsy with inattention, were graceless and inelegant in a way that was lost in womanhood. Her body was still supple; her skin would be soft.

  He cast sideways glances at the parked cars around him, watching for anyone who might be watching his approach.

  There was no one.

  He reached her, still without notice on her part, and he pulled his car silently alongside her.

  She looked up then; her innocent, tear-filled eyes stared at him hauntingly, stirring his desire into a scorching frenzy. Recognition cleared them as she stopped walking then, and the tears were replaced by supplication.

  He exited the car, moving fluidly now as the dance began again.

  Few words were exchanged, mostly from him, and within the span of a heartbeat, he had slipped a comforting arm around her shoulder and led her to the passenger’s side….

  All while she gazed up at him with unguarded gratitude.

  CHAPTER 16

  VIOLET HATED THE ANGRY TEARS THAT BURNED her eyes as she stumbled over an unseen rock on the ground in front of her.

  She wished that she could just go back in time, to that moment. She wished that she had just gotten in his car when he’d commanded her. Even as angry as she’d been at him, she couldn’t help thinking it would have been better than this…this lonely walk through the chilly darkness, berating herself with second thoughts and what-ifs. Better than the rejection that seeped like venom through her every pore.

  She hated Jay at that moment, for making her feel so vulnerable and weak. She wasn’t supposed to be that girl, she had never been that girl before…needy…and pathetic.

  By the time the car was pulling up beside her, she didn’t have time to wonder why she hadn’t noticed it before. She hadn’t heard the sound of the tires across the ancient asphalt with its gravel-filled potholes, or even noticed the headlights that blanched the blackness into pale shadows.

  She turned her head sideways, squinting slightly, to get a look at who was inside.

  When she saw him there, behind the wheel, she stopped walking, trying not to look so thankful as she blinked away the tears.

  She heard the door opening, and before she could catch her gratified breath the driver was out of the car and she was in his arms.

  She wanted to breathe, to inhale his lethally musky scent, but she couldn’t find the air around her. She was suffocated in the strength, the warmth, of him.

  Time seemed irrelevant at that point; it could have been seconds or hours. It didn’t matter. She didn’t even realize she’d been crying again until he pulled away and leaned down to kiss her wet cheek.

  And then his lips moved softly, gingerly, tracing a path to hers. Electric shock waves, which started below her stomach and shot upward, made her tingle and burn as his mouth caressed hers.

  She’d imagined this moment so many times, dreamed of him holding her like this for so long.

  Violet sighed, sinking farther against him, forgetting herself…forgetting her anger and her hurt, losing herself in the moment.

  Jay kissed her, hard, and long, and deep. And she kissed him back, matching his intensity. He banished any trace of doubt that might have remained.

  Violet was acutely aware of her own heartbeat, fluttering in strategic pulse points throughout her body, and echoing its heady rhythm through her veins. She was flushed and shivering at the same instant. She could smell the intoxicating heat coming off him in waves.

  When his mouth left hers, she felt bruised and raw. She could still feel his touch on her lips.

  He looked down at her, his eyes as glazed as her own, his voice thick with barely restrained desire. “Get in the car, Violet.”

  This time instead of sounding like a granite command, it sounded like warm silk wrapping around her. And instead of bristling against it, she just nodded as she stared at his beautiful face, unable to think of anything but the wonderful things his lips had just done to her.

  They didn’t move for a long moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. His gaze moved to her mouth and then lazily back to her eyes, as if he were memorizing her.

  Somewhere in the distance, but probably closer than it seemed, Violet heard a car driving away. But she didn’t bother looking up, because she had other things on her mind.

  Jay had come back for her.

  CHAPTER 17

  VIOLET STAYED AWAKE FOR MOST OF THE NIGHT, thinking over and over again about what had happened. She wanted to remember every tiny detail, capturing it forever in her memory so that she could recall it again at a moment’s notice.

  Jay had kissed her.

  Finally.

  And not just any kiss. It wasn’t one of the sisterly kisses of their childhood. There was nothing childlike about it. He had finally closed that chasm that had been growing between them since the end of the summer.

  Finally.

  Violet could hardly stand it. She was excited…elated…electrified all at once.

  But along with those feelings came the others, the insecurities and the doubts. The questions of what his sudden appearance last night really meant. What the kiss really meant.

  They hadn’t talked about it at all during the ride home. They didn’t talk about anything; the charged silence between them seemed to speak volumes. But there were no repeat performances, even as he walked her up to the door to make sure that she got inside safely. He hadn’t held her hand or even touched her again. And now, in the morning’s light, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had simply been overwhelmed by relief that she was safe, that he had saved her before Grady had gone too far. Had he merely been reacting to a sudden surge of adrenaline…kissing her on impulse, without thinking it through?

  She hoped not. She prayed not.

  She pushed those negative thoughts away, remembering instead the feel of his soft lips against hers. And the heat of his body pressed, heart to heart, with her own.

  By morning she was both exhausted and exhilarated.

  She finally gave up chasing sleep and peeled herself from the rumpled warmth of her bed at just after seven o’clock. She could smell the rich scent of coffee brewing from downstairs and felt drawn to it.

  Her mom was in the kitchen by herself. She didn’t say anything about Violet coming home last night.

  Violet looked around, a little surprised. Her dad was usually the early riser; it was her mom who could sleep until nearly noon. “Did Dad go to work already?” Violet asked, knowing that he often went to the office on Saturdays to catch up on his work without the weekday commotion.

  Her mom looked haggard and weary, and she pulled her steaming mug closer to her, hugging her hands around it as if drawing strength from its warmth. “No,” her voice croaked, and then she cleared her throat and tried again. “No, your uncle Stephen picked him up about a half hour ago.”

  Violet hesitated only briefly as she reached into the cupboard for one of the mismatched coffee mugs that littered the shelf. She found her favorite one, a faded ceramic mug with a garish picture of the Golden Gate Bridge splashed across it. Her parents had brought it home from a vacation before she was born, and she found the time-crackled paint charming. “Why?” she asked as she filled her own mug and reached into the fridge for the vanilla-flavored creamer. She was generous with it, turning her coffee a pale, milky tan.

  When her mother didn’t answer right away, Violet turned toward her to see what was the matter. “What is it?”

  Her mom sighed, looking suddenly older
…and worn out. She shook her head for several seconds before speaking, but she couldn’t avoid it forever. “Another girl.” Her voice cracked with quiet frustration. “From Buckley. From White River, Violet.”

  Violet hovered where she was, half standing, half sitting, in the chair beside her mom at the kitchen table. “Who?” was all she could manage, too stunned by the news to move.

  “Mackenzie Sherwin. She’s a little younger than you.”

  Violet froze. That name. She knew that name.

  “Is she a friend of yours?” her mom asked, placing her own chilled hand over Violet’s as Violet sank like a stone into the chair. “She was at a party last night, and then no one saw her again. Do you know who she is?” she asked again.

  There was no point in lying. Even if they weren’t bound to discover the truth about where she’d gone last night, which they definitely were, this was no time for lies.

  “I saw her last night,” Violet admitted, raising her eyes to meet her mom’s. “I was at the same party.”

  Violet watched the looks that played across her mother’s face, from the dawning flash of anger as she realized that Violet had lied to her about where she’d been, to the fleeting panic that it could have been her own daughter, to relief. And, finally, to acceptance. She must have decided, like Violet had about the lying, that this wasn’t the time for reprimands. Although Violet knew that it would come…later.

  “There’s a search party. They’re combing the woods to look for the girl. They can’t rule out the possibility that she just wandered away in the night and got lost. The reports coming in are that she was drinking pretty heavily.”

  Violet thought about Mackenzie Sherwin. She could picture the younger girl who had thrown up in the bushes and then spent the rest of the night wandering in and out of the party with her own vomit drying in her hair. She could barely walk upright when Violet had last seen her.

  “What if she’s not lost?” Violet asked, hating the question even as it poisoned her lips.

  “They can’t rule that out either. They have every cop in the area looking for evidence, while half the city is combing the woods around the Hildebrands’ house looking for that poor girl.” Her mom squeezed Violet’s hand before letting it go. “Since you were there, your uncle Stephen might want to talk to you.”