by Roxy Gray
“Hey, Ivy.”
I look up to see Simone’s blue eyes, peering at me from beneath her mop of curly blonde hair. I can’t help but notice how rested she looks, and I feel a stab of envy go through me.
Yet another person who’s already moved on from Violet’s disappearance.
“Oh, hey Simone.”
I shut my laptop and pull up a chair for her to sit. “How are things?” I ask.
“Better,” she says. “I’ve been seeing a therapist to help me stay on track.”
“That’s good,” I smile. “You look well.”
“Thanks,” she says. Her eyes go to my face.
“How are you holding up?”
“Is it that obvious?” I say, attempting a smile.
“Let’s just say I’ve been better.”
Simone looks at me sympathetically.
“I figured. At least no other incidents have happened though,” she offers.
“Yeah,” I agree. I don’t have the heart to tell her that another one has happened, and I’m the latest victim. Though, I hadn’t had the heart to tell anyone about the incident, even my parents. Jasper is the only one who knows.
“I thought of something else last night that I forgot to tell you,” she says.
I raise my brows. “Yeah?”
“Well, it’s more of an idea,” she says. “When I was trying to…quit, I went to support groups.”
“Okay…”
“I was thinking that maybe, whoever this guy is, he probably has a way of finding victims. Like, maybe he attends support groups close to campus to see if anyone he knows has a problem with drugs.”
A sick feeling swells in the pit of my stomach.
“You mean, he attends just to scope out the women? And not because he has an actual drug problem?”
“Exactly,” she nods. “Just a theory.”
Simone stands up, eyeing her phone.
“I have to go, I’m late for a date.”
I stand, giving her a quick hug. “It was good to see you, Simone.”
“You too,” she smiles. “Bye.”
I watch as she walks away, a spring in her step. It’s hard not to be envious of Simone’s positive attitude. But in my gut, I know that I can’t back down. I can’t give up. Not now, after I’ve put in this much work. Violet would do the same for me, and I owe her this much. Even if Daniels doesn’t like it. What’s he going to do anyway ― arrest me for trying to help? I don’t think so.
The library closes at nine that evening, and I finally head home, dreading the thought of seeing Jasper after my outburst this morning. My body aches for him, but I ignore it. My life is complicated enough without falling back into Jasper’s abyss.
He isn’t home, but he was here, evidenced by the small sticky note on my door.
Out with Clay. Found out what happened today.
Text me if you want to talk.
- J
I stare at the note, analyzing Jasper’s handwriting. I even pull up the photo Simone sent me of the one she’d received. It’s evident when I hold the image up beside the sticky note.
Nope, not a match.
Am I going crazy?
I stare at Jasper’s door, wishing I had snooped in his room when I had the chance. Violet has been missing for a week, and I’m no closer to finding her than the day she disappeared.
I go into my wallet, retrieving my student card.
Then, I jam it into Jasper’s door, twisting it with all my strength as I pull on the handle.
Click.
It opens slowly, revealing Jasper’s empty room.
It looks exactly as it did the last time I spent the night: condoms on the nightstand, textbooks on his desk, and a closet full of clothes.
I get to work, searching all of the evident hiding places. The nightstand drawer? Nothing but more condoms and a small vibrator. The back of the closet? A wrinkled suit. Under the bed? Dust bunnies and one sock.
His dresser, even, is empty beneath his clothes. I’m about to close the last drawer when I notice the corner of something sticking up, just barely. I pull at it, the sound of paper scraping against fabric seeming loud in the quiet room.
It’s a photo of us in our old treehouse.
We had to be twelve years old, both dressed in jeans and a sweater, nearly matching. My dark hair was braided on both sides of my head. Jasper had on a baseball cap, covering part of his face. We’re caught in a candid moment, laughing over something.
I wish I could remember what it was.
I smile, sliding the picture back where I found it.
I sit on Jasper’s bed and scan the room, my eyes landing on his wooden lockbox, which is tucked under the bed by my feet.
I always did wonder what was inside. I shake it in my hands, but its contents don’t make much of a sound.
I open Jasper’s desk drawers in search of a key. I check the pockets of his clothes on the floor, but they’re empty. But when I see a small metal box in the corner of the room, I smile. The lock picking kit will finally serve its proper purpose. I take out the tools, trying to match up the size of the lock to one of the small picks. Inserting it, I imitate what Jasper did the morning I locked myself out and wiggle it to the end of the hole.
The box opens.
I ignore the feeling of dread in my stomach as I empty the contents of the box onto the bed. I’m not ready to find what I fear: likely something incriminating. Perverted, at least.
I pick up the items one by one.
What I find is ordinary: therapy workbooks, a ‘one year clean’ token from Jasper’s support group, and a beautifully bound leather notebook, pen attached.
I pick it up, feeling its weight in my hands. It’s obviously a journal. So, this is how you get into Jasper’s head. I open the book to the last page, dated this morning, and begin to read:
Fucked up again today.
I wanted to talk things through with Ivy, but I somehow made her more pissed off.
I just miss her, which scares the shit out of me.
I re-read the last line, my heart fluttering with each pass. At least I’m not the only one losing my mind. I flip back the pages, looking for the day Violet went missing. My eyes freeze on another entry, dated the day after we first slept together:
Had my world turned upside down last night.
Didn’t think this would ever happen… but if I could have one thing in this world to keep, it would be her.
I fight back tears as I finish reading, forcing myself to continue looking for an entry around the day Violet went missing. I finally find one. My heart pounds.
Slept with Amanda last night to get her out of my head…didn’t fucking work. Also found out that Ivy’s friend is missing, and I feel guilty as hell. She doesn’t know I sold her coke last year, and I’m not sure how to tell her.
That’s all he wrote.
No psychopathic murder plans, no weird rape fetishes, or pictures, or confessions. Nothing. All that’s here is Jasper. Sweet, complicated Jasper; the same one I pegged as guilty for no reason other than blind instinct.
I return the contents of the box and lock it up, leaving it where I found it. I go over to the door, taking one last look at Jasper’s room to make sure everything is where it belongs. My heart melts at the thought of the photo, intentionally placed beneath his socks where he must see it daily. He must have thought it belonged there. I guess he cares about me as much as I care about him.
I’ve just shut Jasper’s door again when Clay stumbles into the apartment, looking drunk.
“Hey, Ivy!” He exclaims, louder than his usual voice.
“Hi, Clay. Are you alright?” I giggle as I notice his glasses are askew, going over to fix them.
“Thanks,” he smiles at me as I straighten them. His hazel eyes are finally visible to me through the lenses. “I’m okay. I drank. A lot,” he laughs, plopping onto the sofa.
“I thought you didn
’t normally drink,” I say.
“I don’t,” Clay shrugs. “But lately I have been.”
“Why?” I sit down beside him.
Clay smiles, but he looks sad.
“It’s just easier, Ivy. I don’t belong here.”
“Clay,” I scold. “Don’t say that. You fit in just fine here.”
“Nah,” Clay shakes his head. “That’s okay, though, cause I’ve got Jasper. He’s a good friend.”
“He is,” I nod.
“Do you miss Violet?” He asks, looking at me.
“Yeah,” I say. “I feel like she’s lost. I don’t know if she’ll ever make it back.”
Clay frowns. “She’ll make it back. She’s determined, right?”
“She is,” I smile. “Moreso than me.”
“Then she’ll be fine. She isn’t lost, trust me.”
“What do you mean?”
Clay rolls his head over, facing the ceiling as he speaks. “I lost my sister. Every day I wish I could go back and help her. You’ll know when someone is lost for good… I sure did.”
I put my hand over Clay’s, sitting up.
“I’m sure you did everything you could, Clay. Sometimes bad things happen to good people.”
“Yeah,” he says, sniffing a bit. “Yeah, they do.”
I lean in, giving him a loose hug. I’m close enough to smell the fresh scent of his soap. It’s woodsy. We stay for a few seconds, completely still.
When I begin to pull away, Clay takes my chin in his hand, turning my face toward him. He plants his lips on mine softly.
I’m stunned, paralyzed as Clay tries to coax my mouth open with his tongue. It feels foreign, wrong, and I have no idea what gave him the idea. Lightly, I push him back.
“Clay, I don’t think —”
The apartment door bursts open and Jasper stumbles through it, holding a lit joint in one hand. Clay backs away from me quickly, his face guilty.
“Clay, I fucking saw that!” Jasper growls.
Clay retreats to his room at the speed of light, locking the door before Jasper can catch him.
Jasper swaggers toward me, pointing in the direction of Clay’s room. He nearly falls over. Before speaking, he takes a long puff from his joint.
“He’s next in line, yeah?”
I burst into laughter.
“Yes, Jasper. You’re exactly right,” I laugh sarcastically. “Clay is next to sleep with me because that’s how it works. You’re just going to have to take a number and wait your turn.”
He stands there, scowling at me. Suddenly, his face breaks into a smile. “I can’t be mad at you,” Jasper smirks, drawing me into his arms. He reeks of beer and cannabis, but beneath all that, I can still detect his hypnotizing scent.
“Well, you’re going to be,” I declare, traipsing back to my room. Jasper follows me, leaning against the wall for support.
“What do you mean?”
“Come here,” I lead him to sit on my bed and shut the door. Jasper puffs on his joint one more time, putting it out in my glass of water.
“You’re freaking me out, Ivy.”
“Sorry,” I say. “I just need to tell you this.”
“Tell me wha—”
“I went through your things. To see if you knew something you weren’t telling me.”
Jasper’s face drops.
“When was this?” He asks, his voice loosened from intoxication.
“Today.”
“Today?! Ivy, I —”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m an idiot. I know that now.”
“What exactly did you see in there?” Jasper asks, shaking his head.
“I looked at your journal.”
He glares at me.
“Just to see the day Violet disappeared…but then I, well, I read a couple of things by accident.”
Jasper flops back onto my bed, covering his face with his hands.
“Ivy, I can’t believe you fucking did that! That’s my private shit; you can’t just go through it without asking!” He says, half-yelling at me.
“I know. I’m sorry. But, to be fair, if you had been honest with me, I wouldn’t have had to go through your stuff at all.”
Jasper sits up, “You could have asked,” he says.
“You could have not dealt to Violet. You could have…not fucked Amanda again.”
“Shit,” he gulps. “You read that, I guess?”
“Yup,” I say. “Asshole.”
“Ivy,” he says, his voice half-slurred still. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about my past. I just don’t like to talk about it. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done.”
“I know,” I say quietly.
“I feel like I’ve been trying to move on from everything that happened when I was younger, but it’s hard. Every day is a battle. Therapy helps. And so do the support meetings, but I know I have an ugly side. I’m sorry for unleashing it on you.”
Jasper locks eyes with me, our faces close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Neither of us moves, even to blink.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Yes?” Jasper murmurs after a brief silence.
My lips curve upward. I know exactly what he means.
“Yes.”
He closes the gap between us and gently pushes me into the bed.
“Yes is right,” he says.
Jasper pins my arms over my head, forcing my legs open with one knee. I arch upward to him, inviting him to kiss me. Oh and he does, gently and skillfully, brushing against my lips. Then, deeper, with more passion. Tongue. Light suction as he begins to remove my clothes.
I’m wearing a front buttoned dress, which Jasper gets off without even looking, careful not to miss a single button. When he uncovers my panties, he goes wild. He rips the lace from my body, too eager to run his hand along my seam.
“You’re soaked,” Jasper declares, smiling as he kisses my neck this time.
“You’re sexy when you’re mad, what can I say?
I laugh as he leaves a trail up to my mouth.
“So are you.”
Jasper rolls me on top of him, and I grind my hips against his pelvis.
“Can I give you something?” I ask, becoming serious.
“Sure.”
I lean over, pulling a small piece of paper from the nightstand to give to Jasper.
“This is the password to my cloud. If anything ever happens to me, use it.”
Jasper frowns.
“Ivy, nothing is going to happen to you.”
“It’s just in case. Promise me you’ll keep it.”
“Fine, if it makes you feel better. But you really need to get your mind off of this stuff.”
“How?” I ask.
“I have an idea,” he smiles, his green eyes mischievous.
Before I can ask what it is, he stands, holding me against him. My legs fold around his waist. He carries me into the bathroom and turns the shower on, setting me down on the mat just outside of it.
“Oh, I see.” I smile.
I kiss Jasper slowly as I remove my bra. I pull his shirt over his head and tug his pants down, sinking to my knees. Briefly, I pause to run his cock over my lips, plunging it inside my mouth just once.
“Ivy, if you keep doing that I’ll explode,” Jasper warns.
I stand, satisfied by his answer, and step into the water. Jasper follows. He wraps his arms around me and plants light kisses on my spine.
“Mmmm,” he groans, “Shower will sober me up for sure.”
“Is that all?” I ask, guiding his hand to my center.
Jasper welcomes the invitation, slipping one finger into my sex.
“Oh,” I moan, the feeling stronger than I recalled.
I fall back against Jasper, my head leaning on his chest. “Baby, you are so hot when you’re turned on,” he says, bending to kiss the side of my neck.
Jasper withdraws hi
s finger and folds me at the waist, facing me away from the spray. I brace my hands on the cool tile, arching open to him.
He wiggles his cock over the surface of my pussy a few times, then slides in easily.
“Yes,” he breathes as I swallow him completely, our bodies moist and hot with steam.
“Mmhmm,” I moan.
“I want you to scream something for me.”
“What?”
“Scream: ‘fuck you, Clay’,” he murmurs.
“Fuck you — Clay!” I moan, my volume reaching a near-scream.
“Louder.”
“Fuck you, Clay!” I yell.
Drunk Jasper finds this a turn on, apparently, because he slams into me with need.
“So sexy,” his voice rasps behind me.
He goes faster and faster, reaching around to toy with my clitoris.
“Jasper,” I moan, going limp as the orgasm washes over me. He grabs at my hips tightly, matching the rhythm of my body’s convulsions.
Through my moans, I can just barely hear the sound of Clay’s voice outside the door.
“Fuck you guys too!” Then, the sound of his footsteps retreating back down the hall.
Jasper laughs, pumping himself inside of me again until he explodes too. He holds me tight as he comes. We lay in the tub afterward, water dribbling down our damp bodies.
“I think I found my new favourite thing,” Jasper says, still buzzed.
“What?”
“Make-up sex.”
9
___
DISCOVERY
IVY
“Honey, I’m just worried about you,” my dad says on the phone the next day. He’d heard about Violet going missing, and called to shame me for not talking to him about it.
“I’m fine, dad. Really.”
Jasper sticks his tongue out at me from the bed, taking a mock-bite out of my calf.
“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell us about this,” he continues.
“I didn’t want you guys to worry. I’m okay, and the police are nearby. They’ll find Violet.” I roll my eyes, looking for an out to the conversation.
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” my dad says. “I’ve been in touch with Violet’s parents. We’ll help them in any way we can.”
