Then Zach’s fingers touched the slick warmth pouring from her. His thumb massaged the sensitive pinpoint at the junction of her thighs. She cried out—just sound, no words were possible from a body consumed with the fire of passion. Her hips pumped as his fingers played her body like a musician would his instrument. Meghan throbbed from head to foot. Soft sobs burst from her throat. An internal spring wound tighter and tighter. She needed satisfaction now.
Zach rose and nestled between her knees, and with a groan, thrust inside her pulsating body. Once again, she ignored the painful reminders of last night’s confrontation and clasped her legs around his hips.
He moved slowly, and then faster. She burned like a torch, matching his fierce strokes. Meghan opened her eyes. Zach’s eyes were closed. The tendons in his neck corded with the strain. His mouth stretched onto a grin of what she assumed was pure desire.
She understood. The spring coiled, ready to release. She closed her eyes again and rode the fiery sensations wanting to achieve that final destination, yet unwilling to have it end.
With suddenness she hadn’t expected, the spring snapped. Hard, deep contractions of pleasure ripped through her. She screamed Zach’s name.
Then Zach, thrusting one last time, buried his face in her neck. He cried out hoarsely. She felt his climax pulsating inside her. Meghan rode the wave until it crashed onshore again and again until finally dissipating.
Her legs loosened their grip and fell limply on the bed. Zach, arms quivering, rolled and collapsed beside her. Neither spoke. The only sound in the room was their breaths rasping in and out of their lungs.
“Oh, wow,” Meghan murmured when she could speak.
“Yeah, wow,” Zach echoed. He rolled over and nuzzled her neck, while his hand smoothed over her breast.
“Hmm, continue doing that and I might consider round two.”
“I’m game if you are.”
“Satyr.”
He laughed. “First time a woman’s ever called me that.”
“What do they usually call you?”
He didn’t answer. His fingers pinched her nipples into hard centers again, while he sucked at the pulse point on the side of her neck.
Her body responded with a throb. Meghan inhaled a sharp breath. The spring tightened again. She rolled Zach onto his back and, throwing a leg over his body, straddled his hips. His hands kneaded her breasts. Groaning, she leaned forward until his teeth captured an erect point.
With Zach fully aroused, she guided him to the entrance of the rekindled flames. His hands abandoned her breasts and clasping her hips, jammed her down hard.
Meghan cried out, and then rode his thrusts, her body twisting and turning as the fire raged. Within seconds, she climaxed again. Zach followed, his cry of satisfaction mingling with hers. It was short, fast, and fabulous. She bowed her head and sobbed into his chest, then rolled off to the side.
“I never expected…” She couldn’t finish. Tears still formed in her eyes.
His fingers intertwined with hers. “I know. Me neither. I thought I’d need more time before… Well, you know. Oh God, Meghan, you have no idea how many nights I laid awake thinking about you twenty years ago. Your eyes, your smile were always on my mind.”
“What did you see in me? I was overweight and not too graceful.”
“I saw a girl who always had a kind word for others and knew instinctively you felt things deeply. I wanted so badly to ask you out on a date, and never could screw up the nerve to do it.”
“Funny. I sometimes thought about you, too. It was so chaste—a movie, a pizza afterward, even a goodnight kiss on my front steps.” She sighed. “I’m glad I got so much more than the kiss.”
Zach raised her hand to his lips. “Me too, sweetheart. We both got it all.”
I love him. I think I always have. Exhausted, she closed her eyes.
****
The movement of the bed woke her. Zach had risen and once again reached for his jeans.
“H-m, what time is it?” she murmured sleepily.
“Almost eleven. Do you want breakfast or lunch?”
“Breakfast if they’re still serving it.” She wouldn’t have minded a third helping of Zach.
Instead, she tossed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed, groaning when darts of pain jabbed at her body.
“Hurt?” Zach asked, pulling on his jeans. “Maybe we shouldn’t have…”
“I’ve heard it said that great sex masks pain. Apparently, it’s true.”
“At least you’re calling it great. I considered it fantastic.”
Meghan chuckled. “Don’t get into a war of words with me. I’m a writer, remember?” She looked at the bandage on her wrist. “I take it I’m not supposed to get this wet. How do I bathe and accomplish that trick?” She had a suggestion—like the two of them in the shower.
“The doctor said to keep it as dry as possible, but gave me fresh bandages just in case. What do you want to eat?” He pulled the light blue polo from last night over his head, and lifted the receiver.
I’d love a lifetime of you for starters. Honestly, men can be so dense sometimes.
Breakfast, however, sounded good. “A bunch of those little link sausages, two scrambled eggs, biscuits with lots of butter, fruit of some kind, tomato juice, and coffee—lots of coffee.” She limped toward the bathroom.
“No low-cal cereal this morning, huh?” he questioned with a grin.
“If I’d had more fat on me last night, that tire iron might have bounced better. Besides, I just had a lot of exercise,” she said, gathering fresh clothing and closing the door on Zach’s laughter.
****
With a long stint in a hot shower and a full stomach, Meghan checked out of the Grandview Inn. The manager had personally apologized to her. She and Zach were among the last of the classmates to leave. He told them most of the people had no idea of the events in the wee hours of the morning. She suspected the hotel had threatened any employee with dismissal if they talked.
Meghan and Zach drove to the hospital. She shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Time was bringing out the pain. Her torso and upper thighs were a mass of bruises, all turning interesting shades blue, violet, and black. Not even the make-up she’d slathered on could hide the purple coloring along her jaw. Zach had replaced the bandages on her wrist and head with a dedication she found endearing. Naturally, she thanked him with a long kiss. If time hadn’t been so tight, they’d have graduated from kissing to more athletic endeavors.
“I’m anxious to hear what Suzanne has to say,” she commented.
“I talked to Ray again while you were in the shower. He said she was having problems with some details, but the gist of it was she left the room of her own accord. She was scared, had the spare key to Dave’s car, and only one thought—to get the hell out of Grandview.”
“And leaped from the frying pan into the fire.” Did I really just use that old cliché?
“More or less. Glory must have been stalking her.”
“Maybe she even planned on using the same routine with Suzanne as she did with me,” Meghan said. “Although, I doubt Suzanne would have been as gullible. She’d have told Glory to go to hell.”
“You’re not gullible, just caring.” He clasped her hand and lifted it to his lips.
Zach pulled into the parking lot and steadied Meghan with his arm around her waist as they walked into the hospital. He didn’t have to, she could walk just fine, but liked the comfort of his arm. It spelled permanence, something she wanted more than anything.
A few minutes later, they stopped in front of room three-oh-four, and walked in the open door, greeting the sheriff and a battered Suzanne.
****
Suzanne didn’t want to talk to anybody. Inside the bandages encasing her head, a jackhammer pounded away. She visualized chunks of her brain chipping off. The bulky casts on her ankle and arm made movement difficult. She sported a black eye, and more bruises than
she could count. But thank God, no vital organs had been damaged. Why was a mystery. She was, however, alert.
“Holy crap, what happened to you?” she asked when she saw Meghan’s bandages. “Don’t tell me you tangled with that psychotic bitch, too.”
“I’m afraid so. How are you feeling?”
“How the hell do you think? I’m hurting like a son of a bitch, my head feels like it’s going to fall off, and I’ll have to walk with crutches if and when I ever get out of the Hotel Walking Wounded here. I can claim two chipped teeth, plus I have twenty six stitches in my head.” She paused for breath. “But I’m grateful to be alive.” She shot a glance at Ray. “I assume you’re in custody of my jewelry.”
Ray nodded. “Your purse is in the safe down at the station. The hotel is holding everything else that was in your original room. Suzanne, I need to know exactly what happened.”
He pulled up a chair and sat. Zach eased Meghan into the other one, and leaned against the window sill.
Suzanne stared at the ceiling wondering where to begin. She started with why she left the safety of her room.
“I was going to drive north until I got to another town and motel. I thought I’d be safe. Wrong conclusion.”
She related the attack in as much detail as she remembered. “I knew that if I didn’t protect my head, I was a goner. For a while there, I thought she’d succeeded anyway. I assume you found the ski mask?”
Ray nodded. “It along with the bloodstained dark clothing she wore last night. All were carefully folded in her suitcase.”
“Psychotic bitch,” she muttered again.
“Suzanne, why would Glory want to kill Tami, Eddie, Dave, Clara Sylvester, and you?” Ray asked.
“Clara Sylvester? I have no idea why she’d want that old crow dead, but I’ve got an idea about the rest of us.”
“Glory said something about a diary. Did you know Divine kept a diary?” Meghan questioned.
“No, why should I? A diary? What was in it?”
“I haven’t read it, but Tom confirmed its existence this morning,” Ray told her. “He’s looking for it.”
“Knowing Divine, she probably gave a detailed account of vivid predictions regarding the futures of damn near everybody she knew,” Suzanne replied.
“Vivid as in hell and damnation?” Meghan suggested.
The redhead shrugged, and then winced at the sharp stab of pain the action produced. “What else?”
“Suzanne, what can you tell us? Most of what Glory says isn’t coherent, but I gather it dates back to high school. What happened?” the sheriff demanded to know.
Suzanne closed her eyes and shuddered. All these years, buried in her subconscious, she’d known what they’d done would come back to haunt them.
“I can’t believe some insignificant, juvenile prank has caused all of this.”
“We gathered this had something to do with Divine’s suicide,” Zach added.
“Divine was the perfect target for practical jokes and Tami’s sharp tongue.”
Meghan nodded. “I remember. Divine didn’t take biology because she said cutting up a body was a sacrilege—even animal and reptile bodies—and against her religion.”
“When we were in junior high, she called out the janitor when he caught a mouse in a trap. She was sanctimonious as hell, and quoted Bible passages whenever she wanted to get her message across,” Suzanne told them.
“Yeah, I can relate to that,” Meghan murmured.
“Pissed off a lot of kids. Everyone made fun of her behind her back and some, like Tami, directly to her face,” Suzanne replied stating the obvious.
“We used to talk at church. She knew what was being said. It hurt. She didn’t have many friends,” Zach informed them.
“Maybe she was scared to have friends,” Meghan answered.
“Her home life must have been something else,” Zach commented. “The Prescotts went to church, but didn’t mingle with the rest of the congregation. Thought we were all sinners and hypocrites for showing up at Sunday worship to pray, and then going home to sin for another week. Her father once told me to stay away from Divine. I’d said hello. Luckily the old man didn’t attend the youth night meetings. We’d talk a lot then. Divine was a nice kid. She deserved a friend.”
“I don’t ever remember Divine attending a school function,” Meghan added. “I guess anything that was fun or pleasurable was considered a sin in the Prescott household.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Like I just told you, she was an easy target,” Suzanne continued. “The way she dressed—mid-calf length skirts, long-sleeved blouses buttoned up to her chin, dark-colored stockings, and really ugly shoes—didn’t help.”
“So, how did this juvenile prank bring on multiple murders twenty years later?” the sheriff asked.
Suzanne sighed. She recalled every detail of that summer and its aftermath, wishing like hell she could erase them from her mind.
“It all started with Tami on graduation day. Tami loved to push the envelope of decency and propriety. Why should the day we got our diplomas be any different?”
She pressed the button on her hospital bed and waited for the top to raise her into a sitting position, stifling a groan as her body adjusted.
“It was early June and hotter than hell. Those polyester gowns were like fabric saunas. Our assembly area was the parking lot next to the gym—not a speck of shade in sight. We were all sweating like horses when Tami said something like ‘I can’t stand this anymore,’ and split for the restroom. She came back a few minutes later with a grin on her face.
“Eddie, Dave, and I stood together, fanning ourselves with our caps. Tami approached, unzipped her gown and flashed us. She was buck naked.”
She fumbled for the pitcher of water beside the bed. Ray rose, poured a cup, and handed it to her. She drank and leaned back against the pillows. Her head and shoulder hurt like hell. As soon as she was done with this, she’d pop a pill and let sleep take over. Anything to blot out the memories.
“A bunch of kids saw it, including Divine. Most laughed, but Divine stalked over. She told Tami something along the lines of, ‘You’ll burn in hell for that. Repent your ways or face the eternal flames.’ She had the bad taste to stick her finger in Tami’s face.
“Tami, being Tami, told her to cram her Bible up her ass. More words were exchanged and the decibel level rose until Mrs. Hardy, the home ec teacher, came over and asked what was going on. Divine, in that sanctimonious voice, told her. Mrs. Hardy escorted Tami to the restroom and made her put her clothes back on.”
“Tami Robinson was always a handful,” Ray muttered. “Pretty as a picture, but a handful. Told her daddy that, too. Guess he didn’t know how to deal with a teenage girl by himself after his wife’s death.”
“Tami didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone other than herself,” Zach told him. “As long as she was the center of attention, she was happy.”
“Go on, Suzanne,” Meghan prompted. “What happened? As I recall, graduation went smoothly.”
“We were lining up for the processional when Tami returned. She was furious at having been marched away in front of the entire senior class. I remember her grabbing Divine’s arm and saying, ‘I’ll get you for this. You want to know about eternal fire? Well, get ready, because I’m about to make your life a living hell.’ Tami was still seething that night.
“The four of us copped a bottle of Jack from somewhere along with some weed, and drove out to Samson’s Lake. We’d gone through about two-thirds of it when Tami suddenly laughed. ‘I’ve got it. I know how to get even with that Bible-toting bitch.’ Her idea was to have Eddie and Dave write Divine’s name on every men’s room wall in the city. You know, for a good time call Divine at, and then give her phone number.
“We were pretty wasted and thought it was funny. So, we piled into the car and stopped at every convenience store, truck stop, and gas station we saw. If it was public, we hit it. We finally ran out of booze and pot and went
home. The next day Tami called. She wanted to expand on the idea.”
“Expand? How?” Zach asked.
“Tami’s father not only owned the local newspaper, but a printing company as well. She stole the key, and the four of us sneaked in on Sunday. All we needed was a copier and twenty minutes. We popped off a hundred copies of a poster that said much the same thing as the graffiti. We couldn’t work during the day, of course, but at night, we stapled those posters to trees and telephone poles, and slapped them on car windshields. Tami finally lost interest when it came time to leave for college. Shopping replaced revenge.”
“I remember Mr. Prescott came in one day with one of the flyers in his hand, screaming it was the work of the Devil and how I should arrest him,” Ray said.
“Arrest who? The Devil?” Meghan wasn’t sure.
“I guess so. Old man Prescott didn’t often make sense. At any rate, he claimed calls were coming in to his house day and night. About a week later, he stormed in again. Divine was walking home from prayer meeting the night before, and saw Tami on Columbus Avenue with a bunch of papers in one hand and a stapler in the other. I talked to Tami. Naturally, she denied everything.”
“Naturally,” Zach said.
“And I couldn’t prove it was her. The whole business stopped a couple of days later. I thought that was the end of it.”
“I didn’t know you’d talked to Tami,” Suzanne replied. “That might explain why Tami lost interest, although Tami Robinson wasn’t afraid of, or intimidated by anyone, not even the police.”
She sipped more water. The sudden switch from revenge to college had been a relief. Suzanne had tired of harassing Divine. Soon they’d all gone their separate ways. Tami had chosen Indiana University where both fun and men were in large supply. She hadn’t been sorry to see the so-called friendship cool.
The Reunion Page 23