Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I didn’t want to feel dirty. I didn’t want to draw away. But my body was hot and cold, and I could feel my hands growing clammy, my erection swelling in my pants despite me trying my best to will it away. The more upset I became—the more revolted with myself—the more turned on my body got. It was misery. My heart was slamming in my chest, my balls were aching for relief, and the images in my head kept flashing, fast and furious. Nauseating. The wood grain of the table right below my face. The colored squares of the periodic table. Nickel. Cobalt. Magnesium. The popcorn rolled in my stomach. And so when Smiles turned her head, placing her soft, hot mouth on my neck and kissing me there, her hand wandering to my tented crotch, I ejaculated in a literal flood of pleasure and shame, a cry of confusion and disgust breaking the relative silence of the movie theater.
Smiles’s head lifted swiftly and her hand drew away just as quickly, and I could feel her stare on the side of my face that was already burning with humiliation.
I heard the rustle of other heads turning, felt their shocked stares, and I stood, kicking over the half-full popcorn that had been on the floor and tripping over people’s feet as I squeezed through the aisle, racing for the exit. I ran all the way home before unlocking the door and darting inside. Only then did I allow the tears to fall. Only then did I seek out Mother.
She took me in her arms and she comforted me. “There, there, my darling,” she said. “Every boy needs his mother sometimes. You never have to be alone.”
Smiles was still nice to me after that, but in a distant way. She greeted me cordially in class and even chatted a bit here and there. But as soon as the bell rang, she grabbed her things and rushed for the door. One day at the end of our senior year, I saw her sitting on a bench near the gymnasium. I approached tentatively, gathering my courage, forming the apology—the explanation—I knew she was long overdue. But when I stood in front of her, and she looked up at me with patient interest, the words scrambled into incoherence in my mind, and without a single utterance, I left her where she sat.
Cat got your tongue, Danny Boy? I thought, remembering Mother’s old joke as I rushed away. Yes, apparently, he’d taken that too. What else was I lacking that I’d only discover in time? What else had been stolen from me that I’d never get back? And where had it really all begun?
Kat’s desk chair squeaked as she sat back, waiting for Sienna to finish reading. For a moment they both were quiet before Kat said, “It’s obviously purposeful that a body and this note”—she tapped the photocopy on her desk in front of her—“were left in that particular house. So now,” she went on, “it’s not just that our guy found out the name of one of the detectives working the case—you—and added your name to something he wanted the police to have. This time, he either looked into your background. Or he looked into Decker’s. Or you’re both involved in his twisted little game somehow. Either way, he’s making it far more personal now.”
Sienna let out a soft breath. She agreed with the assessment. She just didn’t know how he would have found out that she or Gavin had rented the house eleven years before. But if he had pulled Gavin into this, why? Did that simply point back to her as well? She bent her neck from side to side, working out a sudden kink. “What sort of public records would contain old rental information?”
Kat shrugged. “Some of those ‘people search’ websites list all known addresses going back years. If you even signed a lease, it might be there. We’ll check it out, see how easy or difficult it might have been to attain that address as it connected to you.” She paused, and Sienna saw her assessing her from her peripheral vision. “Try not to be worried, okay? These psychos like to have a personal connection with the police. It makes them feel important.”
“No, I know. I’m not worried.” Mostly. She carried a weapon and was good with it. She could protect herself. It was more . . . eerie than anything to know that this person she’d come to know in an odd sense through his letters might be watching her.
Kat twirled her pen. “I have our new intern looking into who owns the house and any recent occupants.”
“Okay, great.” Considering the staff shortage they were currently dealing with, they were lucky to have had an intern answer their request from the local college’s criminal-justice program. His background check had just come through, so now the young man was helping them follow up on leads and other information that could be obtained through computer searches—both classified and not—so Kat and Sienna could be out in the field.