The Vanishing Girls

by Callie Browning

  Should she tell him? He already knew about the night she’d spent with Paul. Maybe telling him everything else wouldn’t be the worst thing she had ever done.

  “We’re done joking around,” Holden said softly. “And we’re done pretending that everything can stay the same. Because I don’t want it to.” He exhaled. “And I hope you don’t either.”

  For a second she felt giddy and lightheaded as though she were floating in an airless bubble. Holden seemed so close, his eyes so endless and beautiful that she’d get lost in them, his words so deep and meaningful that she’d drown in them. Her heart beat so fast that her hand fluttered to her chest, the cold metal ring on her finger absorbing the warmth that flooded her body.

  “I’ve never felt the way you’ve made me feel.” She looked down at her feet, her mind trying to steady itself under the assault of her feelings for him.

  “I’ll tell you the truth, but I’ve just stayed quiet for so long that I need time to be as open with you as I can. But, I promise that I won’t evade your questions anymore.”

  Holden nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response.

  Slowly, Eileen’s heart started to beat again. “So, what’s your first question?”

  “I have only one.” He leaned in and brought his mouth in line with her ear. “Will you share my bed tonight?”

  Chapter 25

  The Blissful Divine

  The Stellar Prima sped across the highway, and less than twenty minutes later, Holden’s car screeched to a stop in front of his house. Eileen made her way up the stairs backwards, kissing him deeply and tugging his shirt free of his pants as they went. Cool night air washed over their bodies as he pressed her against the door, his hands exploring her hips and exposed back as she hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled him to her. Dimly, she registered the lock clicking behind her as he slipped the key into the cylinder. A square of moonlight fell across the polished mahogany floor for a moment before he lifted her into his arms and kicked the door closed, dousing the room in darkness once again.

  Her shoes clattered noisily as they flew across the room as she wrapped her legs around him. Cupping her body to his, their lips met in a champagne-tinged kiss as he carried her to the bedroom. A moan escaped her throat when his tongue brushed hers, a sensual caress that sent a tingle down her spine like a white-hot flame blazing across a forest floor. He tugged the sleeves of her dress to free her torso with his other hand. Eileen moved against him, her nipples tightening as his silk shirt glanced across her bare skin.

  She grew light-headed when Holden reached the bed and laid her on the cool, downy sheets. Moonlight glowed between the open slats of the louvred doors that led to the patio, gilding their bodies with silver light. She knew he was handsome, desirable — but when he shed his clothes, Eileen realized just how much his sombre suits hid his perfect body. His shoulders were broad, his chest was chiselled and his dark skin glowed like polished river stones at midnight.

  Eileen squeezed her eyes shut as he pulled the dress down past her hips and kissed her again. She felt his hands travel slowly back up her body, touching her legs, hips and everything in between. She savoured the warmth of his skin as his chest touched her breasts.

  Their bodies grew damp as the heat between them rose. Her eyes fluttered open and met his as his hands worked their way down, caressing each breast gently. He snaked his tongue over her nipples, making them harden in his hands as she watched, making her tremble beneath him. The sheets rustled as he leaned back on his heels, and clasped one of her hands in his. Raw emotion unfurled inside her, ready to welcome this man into her body.

  Eileen squeezed her eyes shut and parted her thighs, gripping his shoulders in giddy anticipation. Instead, something warm and moist flicked against her core. Surprised, she flinched, unaccustomed to such a delicious sensation. Holden held her legs in place as her restless hips moved against his mouth. She sank her fingers into his hair, groaned breathlessly as she felt her climax build. She dug her nails into his shoulders, ground her hips against him and threw her head back as she felt it approaching. With a heavy gasp, she trembled and fell back against the mattress, wholly spent as Holden positioned himself over her. She had never known such intense pleasure, one that grew threefold when he pressed himself into her and sighed.

  His thrusts were slow and deliberate at first, firm and full, as he looked into her eyes and kissed her neck softly. He panted, uttering her name, his tone that of a man begging to be set free from the bonds of lust that had built inside him.

  His back was slick with sweat as he moved against her, his movements becoming insistent as his mouth found hers again, their lips and tongues moving in tandem as they yielded to each other. His thrusts gained strength, and his breathing became shallow as he tangled his fingers in her curly hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her as he groaned and throbbed inside her. With a guttural groan and a flex of his hips, Holden sank deep inside Eileen. She gripped his back, felt the tremors that left his body and filled hers, leaving both of them sated and complete.

  * * *

  HOLDEN FOLDED HIS ARMS BEHIND HIS HEAD and exhaled. Moonlight bounced off the soft white walls and dusted the room with a faint glow, casting long strips of light on Eileen’s face and making her look all the more beautiful as she slept with the bedsheet pooled around her naked hips. His heart swelled when he looked at her. Her curly hair was fluffed up against the pillow, her lips were slightly parted. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, and in that moment, he was at peace.

  But, deep in his stomach, Holden knew his anxiety would build again. Their plan to find the serial killer had failed, and he wasn’t sure if they’d have a chance like that again. They had made a critical mistake with the killer; he now knew that someone was on to him and he had heard Eileen’s name. Holden rubbed his hands against his face. As much as he had initially disapproved of the plan, he could admit that discovering the man's identity would have been more worthwhile than lying in bed with a vexed spirit.

  Holden had tried to brush away his new car under the guise of romance, but the truth was that he had bought it to keep Eileen safe. He didn’t want her leaving home to collect him at ungodly hours anymore and neither did he feel comfortable with her living alone if it came down to it. It wouldn't affect her gas allowance, but he'd rather overcome his discomfort with driving than risk her safety. It had been excruciating the night when he’d driven her car from the cane field, holding his breath at every turn, trying to keep the flashbacks at bay. But last night had been easier. Over time, he hoped the fear would wane completely.

  Until then, he would stay vigilant, biding his time until the killer exposed himself again so that Holden could finally put his anxiety to rest.

  Eileen shifted in her sleep, nestling herself in the crook of his arm and pressing her warm behind against Holden’s groin. Arousal flared inside him, but it could wait. He put his arm around her, his palm resting on her lower stomach. For now, his greatest desire was to go back to sleep, grateful that she was safe in his arms.

  Chapter 26

  The Tilt of the Scales

  Eileen wasn’t usually prone to fits of whimsy, but for a few moments, as the sunlight gilded their bodies like a golden statue of immortal lovers, she allowed herself to imagine a future with Holden. An honest future, not characterized by half-truths and false ideals of who they really were. She bit her lip and stilled when Holden stirred, pressing his chest against her back. The gentle thudding of his heart against her shoulder blade resonated as a steady reassurance of the life they could have together.

  Eileen knew what it was to have her reality thrown into question, the truth of who she thought she was broken open and declared null. She had shed the lies of her old life, created a new identity from the vestiges that remained and given herself a new name: Eileen.

  Now, as she lay next to Holden, she wondered how he would react if she told him the truth. Would he accept that she had hid
den who she was for a chance at a better future? Her night on the street might pale in comparison if Holden knew what happened before that, if he found out her true identity.

  Holden sighed in his sleep, cradling Eileen to his chest before he kissed her and mumbled, “Good morning.” A nervous smile crossed her lips; she didn’t want to give him up. Eileen gritted her teeth, the same way she had on the night they met. Losing Holden was not an option. She would tell him who she really was, maybe after work over a quiet home-cooked meal. But little did she know that the night she’d planned would never come.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, after Holden had taken Eileen home to collect her vehicle and get ready for work, they drove both cars to Buckworth Street. To her surprise, the parking lot behind the funeral home was almost full. Paul’s corpse van was parked between his Camaro and a long green sedan. Directly across from Paul's group, Dorothy Greaves’ brows were knit together in confusion as she got out of her car with her handbag dangling on her wrist. Clifford was also there, standing next to the body van, his jaw squared as though ready for battle.

  Eileen parked and looked across at Holden. If his steering wheel was alive, it would have hollered for blue murder as Holden’s brutal grip left ten indentations pressed into its slim form. She got out of her car, wondering what fresh hell Paul had concocted so bright and early on that otherwise perfect morning.

  “What do you want now?” Holden growled at his brother.

  Paul merely nodded to the caucasian man next to him who stepped forward and said, “Mr Holden Davis, I’m representing your brother in the matter of the equitable distribution of property entrusted to Davis & Sons for preservative preparations.”

  Clifford squinted. “Christ, I hope you ain’t paying him by the syllable.”

  Holden squeezed his bottom lip with his teeth. “That’s what this shite is about? Some power ploy to get half of the bodies that your frightened ass can’t even embalm?”

  Paul bristled and glanced at the lawyer who went on, “Mr Davis, your father’s will was explicit: the funeral home is one entity and, as such, there should be greater parity.” He reached forward and offered Holden a stack of papers which Holden merely raised an eyebrow at before Clifford took them on his behalf. Clifford read them for a moment and then said, “We got five bodies insides…explain how you plan to share them equitably, as this overpaid thesaurus suggests.”

  Paul grunted. “Give me three and you keep the rest.”

  Holden looked fit to burst. “Paul, that’s not how you share bodies, especially since you haven’t done a single thing to solicit business or pay the bills.”

  Paul’s eyes flicked toward Eileen and a smirk crossed his lips, “My brother, we’ve shared bodies before and you didn’t seem to mind.”

  Eileen’s handbag swung in a wide arc, landing on the left side of Paul’s head with a crack that made everyone in the car park wince. Her fists weren’t far behind, but Clifford grabbed onto her and whispered, “He deserved it, but be cool; too many witnesses.”

  The bag’s buckle left a long bloody scrape on Paul’s cheek that speckled his white shirt with crimson dots. He touched his face gingerly, his eyes looking daggers at her as he rasped. “Let’s get the police and come back. I suspect Holden’s little whore just made a much better case for me.”

  Eileen looked down at the blood that dappled her handbag. Somehow it didn't seem like enough. She'd had sex with him willingly, it was true, but she felt like he'd been raping her since then with his leering looks and nasty verbal barbs...today had been the last straw. Paul's convoy drove away, leaving Eileen, Holden, Clifford and Dorothy standing in the morning sun as traffic eased its ways along Buckworth Street.

  “Boss, don’t worry, we gonna deal with all of this.”

  “Deal with it how?” he fumed.

  Dorothy cleared her throat, a sound like water over gravel, as she delicately injected herself into the conversation. “I hate to trouble you during this difficult time, but I’m a tad short on embalming supplies. Could I beg a boon of you so I could be on my way?”

  Holden stomped to the door and threw it open. The others followed like creatures in the slipstream of an angry sea monster.

  “Give her what she wants, Clifford,” Holden directed as he slammed his attaché case on the desk. Dorothy and Clifford disappeared into the Prep Room and closed the door behind them. Eileen walked up to Holden’s desk, unsure of how to manage him in such a mood.

  Holden sank down in his chair and ground the knuckles of his hands against his eyes. “I’m so sick of him.”

  Eileen sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and looked at Holden. Gently, she laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure there’s a way we can deal with this.”

  “How?”

  Eileen shrugged. “Maybe get your own lawyer. You know, fight fire with fire.”

  “Right…so pay a lawyer, figure a way out of this lawsuit he’s dragged me into, pay all the bills and work like a dog so that no matter what happens, Paul benefits?

  Eileen raised an eyebrow at his tone. “That’s not what I’m saying. Maybe…“ she heaved a breath, “…you could consider splitting the business in two as you mentioned before; give him his half and you keep yours. That’s an option.”

  “So walk away and leave my only living relative?”

  Eileen clasped her hands to steady her breathing. “That’s not what I’m saying. But the fact remains that Paul makes life difficult for you…difficult for us to be happy."

  “The ‘us’ I need to worry about is me and Paul.” Holden’s voice grated like a knife on ice as he glared at her.

  Eileen’s chest deflated as though he’d cuffed her. “Then what am I? Just a good way to end the weekend? What kind of relationship can we have with your brother saying I’m a whore while he drags down the business?”

  Holden rubbed his temples as he shook his head. “It’s Paul’s business too.”

  Eileen clamped her hand on her hips. “You said yourself that I’ve worked hard to help you save this business. I’ve done that because I love you, but also because I care about what happens to this place. Don’t make it seem like I’m just here for a pay cheque.”

  Holden groaned, grabbing tufts of his hair as he shot up from his desk. “Eileen, stop! He's my brother. I can't just ignore that fact.”

  “Don’t tell me about flesh and blood! You spilt yourself inside me last night,” Eileen said, her voice rising by three octaves. “You don’t think that connects us? Or should make us loyal to each other?”

  The prep room’s glass door creaked open. Clifford and Dorothy slid out sideways, trying to make themselves inconspicuous, an impossible task given the office’s open-plan layout.

  Holden fidgeted, nervous and embarrassed at being caught in an all-out brawl. He pulled out his chair and sat down again, straightening the books and pens on his desk. He didn’t make eye contact as he said, “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Eileen snatched her handbag off her desk. “No. Don’t talk to me at all. I quit.”

  Chapter 27

  A Change is Going to Come

  “Excuse me, young lady. Eileen, is it?” Dorothy Greaves shouted as she hobbled across the car park. Despite Dorothy’s sensible shoes, she could barely keep up with Eileen’s high-heeled stomp as she called out to her.

  Eileen dragged open the car door and tossed her belongings inside, cursing herself for romanticizing her relationship with Holden. She didn’t care to hear Dorothy defending her sweet little Holden’s love for his degenerate brother.

  Dorothy’s face was flushed and her gutsy wheezes sounded not unlike wind rushing past an uncovered Coke bottle. The bottles of embalming liquids inside the box clattered against each other as Dorothy finally caught up to Eileen and leaned against the car to catch her breath. No wonder she sounds worse than my car, Eileen realized with a start. The jaunt across the gravel lot had undone Dorothy, loosening her tightly tucked blouse from her skirt. Beneath the frilly
pink top, Eileen saw a close-set row of eyelets and laces that ran straight up Dorothy's side. Her corset was pulled so taut that it was a miracle she could breathe in the first place.

  Eileen reached over and took the box from Dorothy, then helped her to stand upright. “Can I help you?” Eileen said a bit more harshly than she intended. She wanted to get away from Buckworth Street, but it would be rude to just leave the woman standing there.

  “Y-yes,” Dorothy rasped. “I wanted to talk to you about that unpleasantness back there…it’s just unfortunate.”

  Eileen clenched her jaw. “It’s also a private matter.”

  Dorothy looked away, focusing instead on the bottles inside the box. “You and I are the same, aren’t we? The night of the party, Clifford went home with that skinny little thing, June Haynes, and it’s troubled me since.” Dorothy hesitated, her voice breaking as she fiddled with one of the bottles.

  Shame crawled into Eileen’s stomach. She bit her lip, unwilling to verbally classify herself as a rejected woman whose love was at a man’s mercy. But dogged determination only had the power to deny the truth, not change it.

  Her gritty voice cracked as she turned away. “You know that my brother recently passed — Lloyd. I haven’t found any good hires since then, especially none with your talent for makeup and flowers.”