She'll Never Know

by Hunter Morgan

  Though the memories had still not been significant, Jillian realized these little details that continued to pop up in her head were slowly filling in the huge gaps in her life. The stainless steel refrigerator and the recollection of the sneakers by the door were just two more insignificant details that were making her feel whole again.

  After closing and locking all the windows and doors in the front of the cottage, Jillian retreated to the bedroom to read for a little while before she went to sleep. Mrs. Jargon at the Albany Beach Public Library had turned her on to a techno-thriller author, and she was devouring the third book in a series. She'd left the hero about to be caught by an international spy ring, and she was eager to see how he would escape this time.

  Changing into her sleep shirt, Jillian went to the bedroom window to double-check the lock, and when she pulled the curtains back, dust filled the air. It tickled her nose and she sneezed. The thin, pale blue cotton curtains were filthy and needed to be washed, but there was no washing machine or dryer in the cottage. She'd have to take them to the laundromat next time she washed her clothes.

  Jillian rubbed her nose and stared in indecision at the dusty curtains for a moment, then walked through the dark house to the kitchen, grabbed a sturdy wooden chair, and brought it back to the bedroom. She knew it was a little late at night for housekeeping, but she just couldn't stand the thought of those dirty curtains hanging there any longer. She climbed up on the chair to try to dislodge the massive wooden curtain rod so she could slide the curtains off.

  With a tug, she jerked the rod upward. It came loose suddenly and she almost lost her balance on the chair. "Whoa!" She caught the back of the chair with one hand while holding on to the dangling rod with the other. "Now, won't I feel stupid if I break my leg and have to crawl for help," she muttered.

  Jillian climbed carefully off the chair, holding the rod up in the air as high as she could so as not to tear the other bracket free from the wall. With her other hand, she dragged the chair to the other side of the window and climbed up again.

  She pushed the rod up to slide it out of its bracket, but it seemed to be stuck by layers of dust, or maybe old paint. With a grunt, she shoved it upward.

  A tap on the window startled her, and she turned her head to see if she had inadvertently struck the glass with the other end of the cumbersome rod. All she needed was a busted window; then she'd have to talk to Seth.

  Realizing that she hadn't hit the glass, she looked at the window, divided into eight large panes, top and bottom. She saw a hazy reflection of herself in the white T-shirt that fell to her mid-thigh.

  But behind the reflection, she caught a glimpse of something solid. Dark. At the same instant, there was another tap on the window and she realized someone was out there.

  Giving a little cry of fear, she leaped off the chair, pulling the curtain rod down with her and ripping the wooden bracket off the wall.

  "Jilly! It's Ty. Let me in."

  The voice cut through her panic as the tap came again. "Ty?" She dropped the wooden rod, stepped over the crumpled mess of dirty curtains, twisted the lock on the window, and slid it open. "Ty! What the hell are you doing out there? You scared me half to death."

  "Did you realize the screen fell out of this window again?" he asked, holding it up before lowering it into the darkness.

  "No, I did not realize the screen had fallen out again," she said irritably. "Why didn't you knock on the front door, use your key, something?"

  He raised his leg, throwing it over the window sill that was only waist high. His sandal dangled on the end of his foot for a moment and then tumbled inside. "I was walking up the side of the house and saw that the only light on was here in the bedroom." He pulled himself through the window and landed on the blue curtains on the floor.

  "Get off the curtains." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the bed.

  "Sorry." He stepped gingerly over the rod.

  Jillian picked up his flip-flop, tossed it over her shoulder in his general direction, and picked up the curtain rod to slip the dirty curtains off.

  "You want me to go?" he asked.

  "No, of course not. I was kind of hoping you would come." She got the first panel off and tossed it aside. "You just scared me. That's all."

  He dropped onto the edge of the queen-sized bed. "Why's everything locked up? The police arrested the serial killer. I still can't believe it's old Ralph, but you never know, do you?"

  "I guess not." She tossed the second panel into the pile and peered up at the wall where she'd torn the bracket loose. What a mess.

  "I can bring some spackle over, fix that right up," Ty said. "It won't be any problem to screw that thing back into the wall."

  Jillian leaned the painted white rod against the wall and turned to him, unable to resist a smile. He was just so darned cute. His hair was even blonder than it had been when she met him, and his skin had tanned to a such a dark hue that he could have claimed some islander ethnicity rather than his Caucasian Irish heritage.

  "How about me?" she asked, walking toward him. "Any problem screwing me?"

  He laughed and put out his arms out to her. She walked into them and brought his head to her breasts, stroking his silky hair. Jillian knew that in a week Ty would be gone from her life, probably forever. She was going to miss him. She'd known from the beginning that this relationship they had, whatever it was, wouldn't last long. But Ty had been a good friend to her when she had desperately needed one, and she would never forget him.

  He lifted his head to look up at her, and she covered his mouth with hers. He slid his hand up the back of her thigh, higher, until he cupped one bare cheek of her rear. She pushed on his shoulders and they tumbled back onto the bed laughing.

  She landed straddling him, pinning him to the bed with his legs dangling over the side. "Now you're at my mercy," she teased.

  He flung his arms over his head in surrender. "I guess you'll just have to have your way with me."

  "Guess I will." She leaned over him, covering his mouth with hers.

  Ty threaded his fingers through her hair, caressing her breast through her T-shirt and, for the moment, the broken curtain bracket, the unidentified man in the shower, and Jillian's past were forgotten. For a short while, she took on Ty's attitude of living in the moment.

  Ty caught the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it on the floor. She stretched her body out over his, molding her hips to his, pressing her breasts against his chest. She threaded her fingers through his and pushed his hands over his head again.

  "I'm your prisoner," he whispered against her lips. "Do what you will with me, just promise you'll be gentle."

  Laughing, she released his hands and grabbed the hem of his surf shirt. She pushed the thin yellow fabric upward and leaned down to catch his nipple between her teeth.

  "Unfair," Ty groaned.

  "It's not." She tongued his nipple, shifting her gaze to look at him. "But maybe this is." Still keep eye contact, she slid down his body, dragging her tongue over his skin.

  "Cruel and unusual punishment for sure," he moaned, rolling his head back, closing his eyes.

  At the waistband of his board shorts, she licked the line of suntanned flesh just above the flowered fabric, slowly lowering them.

  "Okay!" he cried, grasping her arms to lift her head and draw her toward him. "That's enough of that."

  "But what if I'm not done?" she teased.

  "Oh, you're closer to being done than you realize." Laughing with her, he rolled her onto her back and buried his face between her breasts.

  The rhythm and oneness of their lovemaking lifted Jillian far from the realities of her life. For a short time she drifted in the pleasure of the moment, living in only that pleasure. Afterward, Ty held her in his arms, seeming to know, without the words being expressed, how thankful she was to have him in her life right now.

  Eventually, Ty got up to use the bathroom.

  "Someone's going to see you walk
ing around buck naked," she said, pointing to the still open window. "No curtains."

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Mr. and Mrs. Collins have been asleep for hours." He flipped the wall switch off anyway, leaving Jillian in the quiet darkness.

  She scooted up in the bed to rest her head on the pillow, not bothering to put her night shirt back on. Knowing Ty, they'd make love again. A definite advantage to a barely-of-legal-age lover, she thought, chuckling to herself. She listened to him go into the bathroom, then go down the hall to the kitchen. A feeble light fell across the hallway for a moment. She heard the click of glass bottles and then the light went out.

  Ty entered the bedroom with two bottles of beer and a bottle of spring water. He tossed her the water, set the bottles on his side of the bed, and plopped down beside her. "Almost out of beer."

  She twisted the top off the plastic bottle and took a drink. "I worry about how much you drink, Ty. You're going through a lot of beer a week here. I can't imagine how many you're actually drinking."

  He twisted off the beer bottle top and it made a satisfying hiss. He tipped it back, downing half the contents in one swallow. "I'm a growing boy. It's what growing boys use for fuel," he explained.

  She chuckled and took another sip of water. "I know, breakfast of champions, and so on."

  Ty rolled onto his side and drew the cold bottle across her bare belly.

  She laughed, flinched, and pushed him away.

  "You know," he said, sipping. "I haven't heard from that cop in Atlanta. Dad hasn't received the fax he promised, and it didn't come into the police station. I checked."

  "Doesn't matter. It's not me, Ty. The Atlanta cop is busy chasing bank robbers and giving out parking tickets. Police don't have time to correspond with everyone who contacts them looking for their long-lost friends or relatives."

  "He said he'd fax me the photo and information." Ty tipped back the brown bottle, finishing off the first beer. "You say you're going to do something. You do it." He set the empty bottle down on the nightstand and reached for his second beer. "I'm calling him again tomorrow, and I'm going to keep calling until I get that fax."

  "I wish you wouldn't."

  He twisted the top off his beer, looking at her in the darkness. "Why? Changed your mind and don't want to know? Because if that's the case, hey"—he gestured with the bottle—"that's cool with me. Just say the word."

  Still holding the water bottle, she rested her forearm on her forehead. "No, it's not that, it's just..." She sighed, not knowing just what it was. "Okay" she said. "Go ahead. You keep bugging the detective and he'll fax the photo just to get rid of you." She leaned over to set her bottle on the nightstand and then rolled onto her side to face him. She took his beer bottle from him, still half full, and pressed her mouth to his. "I know you should probably go," she whispered against his mouth, tugging on his lower lip playfully with her teeth. "But you think you could stay a few more minutes?"

  He slid his hand up her thigh, and over her hip to grab her around the waist and pull her closer. "I think that be arranged, doctor."

  She laughed and gave him a push. "Don't call me that."

  "I don't know," he teased, rolling her onto her back and climbing astride her, spraying beer as he went. "It might be kind of fun. You could be my doctor and I could be your patient."

  Jillian laughed, stretching to set the bottle on her nightstand. "I was thinking I could be the doctor and you could be the nurse."

  "We could do that, too," he teased, leaning over to catch one of her nipples between his lips.

  Jillian let her head fall back on the pillow as ripples of pleasure began to wash over her again. The sensation of Ty's mouth on her breast mingled with the feel of the cool breeze coming in through the open window to caress her hot, sweaty skin, and she let go of all thought to drift on Ty's "no worries, mon, it will all work out" attitude.

  * * *

  "So, you want to come back to my place? See our condo?" the guy named Chase asked.

  The bar was so crowded that there was no place to sit. Kristen was standing near the end of the bar, waiting for her girlfriends to come off the dance floor. As soon as Amy and Sarah turned up, Kristen was out of there. They had been the ones who met Chase and his two buddies at the surf shop today. They'd told the guys to meet them here and brought Kristen along to make an even three on three. The only thing was, Chase was a jerk.

  "So, you want to?" the guy repeated, stepping closer, accidentally brushing her breast with his hand.

  Only Kristen wasn't so sure it was accidental. "I don't think so," she said, beginning to get annoyed. Not just with this bozo, but with her friends, too. So what if they met some guys they liked? They should have checked out the friend before getting her involved.

  Chase said something else, but Kristen didn't catch it. "What?" The music was so loud and there were so many people. Her head was beginning to hurt. She'd only had two drinks, but she was beginning to think it had been two too many. "What did you say?" she repeated, leaning closer.

  He cupped his hand and leaned to speak, but instead of repeating himself, he stuck his wet tongue right in her ear.

  "Gross," she groaned, giving him a push. "I'm out of here. Tell Amy and Sarah I went home."

  "Kristen," Chase called after her.

  She ignored him, bobbing and weaving her way through the crowd, purse slung over her shoulder. It was hot in the bar, and the drinks had made her queasy. No, it was probably Chase from Pennsylvania who was making her sick to her stomach.

  * * *

  The Bloodsucker watched Kristen give the guy a shove and walk off. The boy had been making the Bloodsucker angry all evening. The way he was bragging drunkenly, trying to impress Kristen. And the way he kept trying to touch her inappropriately. It made the Bloodsucker want to hurt him. He wasn't tempted by the jerk's blood, but the idea of making him dead, smashing his head against something hard until gray brain matter oozed out did interest him. Tempt him.

  Kristen crossed the crowded dance floor, not seeming to realize that the guy was only a couple of feet behind her. The Bloodsucker followed, concerned that she might go out into the dark parking lot, still not realizing he was there. Didn't these young women understand the dangers in public parking lots?

  "Kristen, wait," the guy shouted.

  "Take a hike, Chase," she shouted back, walking past the hostess and out the door.

  The Bloodsucker had to walk around people. He craned his neck, watching Kristen, trying to hurry, but not wanting to draw any attention to himself. Of course there were so many people, no one would notice him. No one ever noticed him.

  By the time the Bloodsucker got out the door, Kristen was halfway across the parking lot. She had parked out on the corner of the lot, but at least under a security light. He'd parked right next to her.

  "Didn't you hear me?" Kristen said, turning around to face the college boy. "I said, I'm not interested. What part of that did you not understand?"

  "You're not going to do this to me," the boy sneered. "Act all slutty in there, act like you're interested and then tell me to take off." He reached out to grab her arm, and Kristen jerked back.

  "Is there a problem here?" the Bloodsucker asked, cutting between two cars, headed straight for them. There was no one else in the parking lot.

  "No one was talking you," the boy said, a nasty tone in his voice.

  This close, the Bloodsucker could tell he was pretty drunk. So drunk that he probably wouldn't remember much of this in the morning. And certainly not any details. The Bloodsucker's heart began to beat a little faster. Kristen looked so pretty tonight. So sweet.

  "Would you like me to walk you to your car?" the Bloodsucker asked her.

  "Who do you think you are—"

  The Bloodsucker turned to the drunk, looking right into his eyes. "Go back inside or I'm calling the police." He said it softly under his breath, but his tone must have scared the kid.

  "Fine," he grunted, swinging his fist and wa
lking away. "Bitch," he muttered under his breath.

  The Bloodsucker turned angrily toward him, ready to defend Kristen's honor, but she grabbed his hand. She touched him....

  She touched him and then he knew that tonight she would be his.

  "He's not worth it," she said, letting go of his hand. "But it would be nice if you'd walk me to my car. It's just over there." She pointed.

  The Bloodsucker smiled.

  * * *

  Kristen woke groggy and confused. It was as if she was dreaming and fighting to wake up, only she couldn't quite come to.

  She smelled the fumes of exhaust. Felt something bump beneath her. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but darkness. There was something all around her, a box. A coffin? She tried to scream out in terror, beginning to realize this wasn't a dream, but she couldn't scream because there was something covering her mouth. Tape. She could smell the adhesive, feel the stickiness on her mouth.

  Then she realized where she was and she tried to scream again. She was in the trunk of a car. She could hear the radio now, feel the bumps in the road.

  Oh, God. Oh, God! her mind screamed.

  How had this happened?

  She was dizzy and sick to her stomach, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to throw up. If she threw up, she might aspirate on her own vomit.

  She willed herself to calm down, swallowing her sour bile again and again.

  Her head was pounding. Not as fast as her heart, though.

  She tried to think back to the last thing she remembered. Memories came back in a flood, a little out of sync. She remembered cleaning up after work. Showering. Telling Aunt Alice she didn't want any dinner. She'd run into Ty in the hall. He was going out with friends. He had told her that maybe he'd head to Jilly's for a while. She'd teased him about being an old lady's old man and he had laughed.