She laughed softly, moistening her throbbing lips. “Too X-rated for you?”
At her hips, his fingers clenched. “Let me get rid of James.”
Ducking her head, she pulled away from him, away from temptation. “Sorry. The window to my capitulation just closed for the evening.”
He muttered several inventive curses, all directed at his daughter’s boyfriend. As it turned out, Ben’s animosity was justified, and after he helped her climb out of the Jacuzzi, he was awarded an immediate outlet for his frustration.
Inside the house, on the living room couch, James and Carly were engaging in some inappropriate behavior of their own.
When Ben saw James with his hands all over his daughter, he snapped. Striding forward with a furious growl, he lifted James off Carly and threw him on the ground. It might have ended there if James’ instinctive reaction hadn’t been to come up swinging.
“Leave her alone,” James yelled, launching himself at Ben.
Having little experience with the cycle of abuse, Ben didn’t realize that James was only protecting himself-and Carly. Sonny, however, recognized the feral gleam in the boy’s eyes all too well. James only understood what he knew, and he’d been taught that when a man put his hands on you, he intended to inflict pain.
Sonny was forced to intervene. Subduing two overwrought males at the same time was tricky, in that there were twice as many flying fists and elbows. James was smaller, but he was scrappy, agile, and combative, not an unworthy opponent. She went for Ben, for having instigated the fight, he deserved it more.
Jumping on his back, she slid her arms up under his and laced her fingers behind his neck, rendering his upper body motionless. It was a good way to get her teeth knocked out by a bucking head, so she kept her face close to his neck. “He’s just a kid,” she said into his ear, trying to appeal to reason.
“Goddamn it,” Ben grated, struggling against her, his chest heaving.
Sonny held tight. Carly was wailing, begging for him to stop, and James, lost in the haze of violence, broke loose with a right hook so well placed that Ben’s head rocked back, hitting Sonny’s lower lip so hard she saw stars.
Carly switched sides in a split second. “Don’t hit my dad, you asshole!” She dove toward James, tackling him, and they landed in a tangle of arms and legs.
Sonny almost couldn’t bear to watch the impending disaster. If Carly hit James, James would hit her back, Ben would beat James senseless, and in the end, someone would be dead, badly injured, or in jail.
It didn’t happen. Carly drew her arm back to strike, but James caught her wrist midair, stilling her hand. Blinking rapidly, like a just-awakened dreamer, he scanned the mayhem in the room. Carly was crying, tears streaming down her pretty face. Ben was rubbing his jaw and glaring, daring him to feel lucky.
Sonny felt blood trickle from her lower lip. When James saw it, his face paled.
“Shit,” he said, letting his head fall back against the hardwood floor. Still sobbing, Carly crawled away from him, into her father’s arms.
Without another word, James got to his feet, walked to the door, and left.
CHAPTER 10
James awoke at the coldest hour of the day, just before dawn. He was curled up in the fetal position, in a damp, uncomfortable crevice between rocks, at what he’d come to think of as his own personal hideaway on Windansea Beach.
He was warm in some places, freezing where his body touched the sand. A hand was shoved down the front of his pants, for heat, he supposed, or comfort. He awoke this way almost every morning and it never failed to embarrass him.
Wiping grains of sand from his face, he realized that he wasn’t alone. And the hand down his pants wasn’t his.
“Carly,” he whispered, cranking his head around to see her, snuggled up behind him. “Wake up.”
She mumbled something unintelligible and shifted, pushing her hand down farther, seeking warmth.
He groaned, wondering if it was too cold for him to get hard. Nope.
“James?” she asked, feeling his reaction.
“Take your hand out of my pants.”
Sleepily, she complied, moving away from the danger zone. “It’s so cold,” she said, sliding her palms over his clenched stomach muscles. “Make me warm.” She put her mouth against his neck and did that thing she knew he liked.
“Carly, don’t,” he protested weakly. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Why?”
He turned to face her, and she initiated a frontal attack, throwing one of her legs over his hip and slipping her arms around his neck. Arching her back, she put all of her soft parts against his hard ones. “Touch me,” she said against his ear. “I’m so cold.”
She didn’t feel cold. She felt hot, all over. Her mouth, when it met his. Her hands, in his hair, under his shirt. Her stomach, silky and smooth, when he splayed his fingers over it.
“Yes, James,” she moaned, tracing his lips with her tongue. “Make me warm.”
How could he deny her? He couldn’t remember why he’d tried. Instead, he slid his tongue into her mouth and his hands underneath her sweatshirt, covering her naked breasts.
The simple act of touching her, with no barriers between them, was so exciting that he stilled for a moment, reveling in the feel of her. Beneath his fingertips, there were lines, marks she’d made with the razor, but they were rough with healing, not tender and new. A wave of pride and protectiveness washed over him, so strong he wanted to place his mouth there, to worship every inch of her skin and tell her how lovely she was. Because he was afraid she might misinterpret the gesture or push him away, he didn’t raise her shirt. Instead, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, over and over again until he thought he would surely embarrass himself if he continued.
The sounds she was making were driving him crazy.
Breathing hard, he moved his hands over her back, pulling her tight against him. She was wearing the same jogging pants he’d seen her in before, the ones that said JUICY across the butt. He traced the letters with his fingertips then slipped his hands beneath the fabric, finding nothing but soft skin and a lacy thong.
James’ heart thudded painfully. Any blood left in his head rushed south.
He took his hands out of her pants slowly, afraid to move too fast. The danger zone was on red alert. “Turn around.”
Her eyes flew open in surprise.
He smiled at her reaction. “Your butt is like ice. Turn around, and I’ll warm you up.”
Smiling back at him, she turned around and snuggled into him. He opened his jacket and enveloped her in warmth, experiencing an intense satisfaction when she murmured her pleasure.
“Do you think I’m too skinny?” she asked, after a few minutes.
“No,” he said, clenching his teeth against the renewed urge to take her hips in his hands and surge forward, testing those slender proportions.
“Really? How about these?” She brought his hands up to her breasts. “Too small?”
He gave them an exploratory squeeze. “You’re perfect,” he said in all honesty, hoping they’d laid the subject to rest.
She wasn’t quite satisfied. “Then why don’t you want this?” she asked, putting his hand between her legs and covering it with her own.
“Carly,” he said in a tortured whisper. “I want it so bad I’m shaking.”
That, he knew she could feel. And the other evidence, prodding her backside.
“Then why aren’t you trying to convince me to do it?” she asked.
He tried to calm himself with slow, even breaths. “Because we’ve only been going out three days. For pretend.” Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from stroking her through the thin material of her jogging pants, feeling her heat.
“I don’t care,” she moaned, tilting her hips up and pressing the tips of his fingers against her, harder. “I want to.”
“No,” he said, denying himself, as well as her. Putting some very necessary distance between them, he rol
led away from her and sat up, resting his forearms on his bent knees. “You shouldn’t let me touch you.”
She cozied up beside him and put her head on his shoulder, slipping one arm under his. “I like it when you touch me.”
“Your dad doesn’t.”
“So? What do you think he and Summer were doing in the Jacuzzi?”
He thought of the blood on Summer’s face. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Why did you freak out like that?”
He didn’t answer. “You should go back home before you get grounded again.”
“Where will you go?”
He rubbed his hands over his eyes. He’d had barely four hours of sleep in two days. “I’m supposed to be staying with my brother, but his house is kind of hectic.”
She frowned. “Holiday visitors?”
He laughed at the very idea. “Yeah. Oh, yeah. Holiday visitors, having a merry fucking Christmas.”
Impatient with his obscure humor, she said, “So why can’t you go to your dad’s? Are you afraid he’s going to hit you?”
He jerked away from her. “Shut up.”
“Fuck you,” she returned. “Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve seen your bruises.”
He stood, ready to leave her there. Then he remembered Lisette and reconsidered. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
She lifted her stubborn jaw. “I can get home by myself.”
He paled at the thought of her wandering around in the dark last night, looking for him. “You shouldn’t be out at night on your own. It’s dangerous.”
“Why is it dangerous for me, but not you? You can sleep on the beach, but I can’t walk down it by myself? That is total bullshit.”
He couldn’t tell her why he knew she had to be extra-careful. “What’s that?” he asked instead, seeing the blue sweater she’d left lying on the sand.
“It’s your Christmas present, you stupid jerk.” She picked up another box and threw it at him. “Here’s another one.”
He gathered up the stuff and followed her as she stormed down the beach. The first rays of dawn were beginning to peek over the horizon, painting streaks of pink across the sky. “I have a present for you, too.”
She stopped, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “You do?”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tiny package wrapped in plain white paper. “Here.”
She opened it carefully.
“It’s nothing new or expensive,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to give you something, to show you…”
She watched his face, waited for him to continue.
Doing it right, he took her hand in his. “I wanted to ask you to be my real girlfriend.”
“All right,” she said with a shy smile. Studying the ring in the early-morning light, she saw that it was antique, silver, and engraved with a swirling design. “Where did you get it?”
He smiled back at her. “Out of a shark’s belly.”
Her jaw dropped. “No!”
“Yes. See if it fits.”
It did.
Sonny was back in the Jacuzzi with Ben. Steam was rising up from the hot water, and they were exploring each other languidly, touching, caressing, kissing…
Then a warning bell sounded in her mind, and he pulled away from her, leaving her cold. She tried to follow him, but her legs were like jelly. She couldn’t move. Rubbing at her eyes, she tried to focus on his wavering form, but the fog was too thick. She couldn’t see.
Then the silver blade of a knife flashed, slashing down, into her stomach.
Gasping, she lurched up in bed, holding a hand to her belly.
A dream, she realized with relief. Just a dream. Her cell phone, the trigger of her nightmare, was ringing. With a shaking hand, she reached out to pick it up from the pile of clothes beside the bed. “Vasquez,” she growled, annoyed with Grant for interrupting what could have been a perfectly good sex dream.
“Brass is at your boyfriend’s right now.”
She kicked the blankets off her legs, stumbling over to look through the already bent vertical blinds. Sure enough, a police cruiser was parked in front of Ben’s house. “Why?”
“Anonymous caller reported a floater. Allegedly, it’s Lisette Bruebaker. Carly Fortune’s best friend.”
Her heart dropped. “No.”
“The body hasn’t been found, but Mrs. Bruebaker confirms that the girl’s been missing. She didn’t file a report, because Lisette isn’t that reliable as far as checking in. Mom figured she was just partying.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. Guess who she was supposed to be staying with.”
Sonny wrestled her legs into sweatpants, shoved her feet into shoes. “Who?”
“Carly and Ben Fortune.”
Swearing, she hung up the phone and ran out the door. To her relief, the uniform was messing around inside his patrol car, playing with the radio. He wasn’t a detective, she noted. Just some beat cop collecting information.
Ben opened the door, taking in her frazzled appearance with a lazy smile. “Can’t wait to see me again?”
She smiled back at him self-consciously, wishing she’d had time to brush her teeth and fix her hair. “Actually, I was going to ask Carly if she wanted to go for a jog.”
Hearing the magic word (her own name) Carly came up behind Ben and put her hand on his shoulder. “Why is there a police car out front?” she asked, sipping something warm and fragrant from an earthenware mug.
Sonny managed a careless shrug.
“Have you had breakfast?” he asked, studying her bruised lower lip.
She resisted the urge to run her tongue over the split. “Not yet,” she said, glancing at Carly. “Is that coffee?”
“It is,” Carly replied. “Some of us real humans need caffeine in the morning. Do you like banana nut muffins?”
“I love them,” she said. “Did I mention I was going for a jog?”
“Yeah, I’m up for it.” Stretching one arm over her head, Carly gestured for Sonny to follow her back to the kitchen. “Are you going to show me some more of that karate stuff? It was so cool how you held back Dad last night.”
Sonny had polished off a cup of coffee and a muffin before the cop finally made it to the front door. When the doorbell rang, she excused herself, because she really did have to pee, but she also wanted a chance to eavesdrop for a moment upon her return.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, she skulked her way down the hall, surprised to hear that the policeman was inside. This wasn’t a doorstep interview. She stopped, back pressed against the wall, listening as the deputy continued questioning.
“Did Lisette say where she was going, or tell you what her plans were?”
Carly’s response was vague. “I never knew what Lisette was planning to do next. She was kind of unpredictable.”
“Did she have a boyfriend?”
“Sure. The whole senior class.”
“Anyone special?”
“No. She liked to date around. Did something happen to her?”
“Her mom hasn’t seen her for a while. It’s just routine.”
The officer’s statement seemed to put Carly at ease. That was a mistake, from an interviewer’s standpoint. “She’s always like that. When school is in session, she goes to class. On breaks, she’s like, all over the place.”
Sonny heard the sound of the deputy flipping paper on a wire-bound notebook. “You said you last saw her Friday night. Not Saturday morning?”
“No,” Carly answered quickly. “When I woke up, she was already gone.”
“Mr. Fortune?”
“I went surfing pretty early. I didn’t check on them first.”
“Is it possible that Lisette left in the middle of the night? Snuck out?” There was an awkward silence, during which no one answered verbally. Instead of taking advantage of it, letting it draw out, the cop forged ahead. “Is that typical behavior for her, to leave early, without saying good-bye?”
“No,
” Carly admitted. “Usually she hangs out longer.”
“Did anything out of the ordinary occur while she was here?”
Neither Ben nor Carly responded, but Sonny could practically feel the room ignite with tension. She had to see their faces now, so she entered the room and sat down, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
“You can tell him, Dad,” Carly prompted.
Ben did not have the countenance of an innocent man. Sonny felt something snap inside her, unleashing an emotion she didn’t know she could feel, didn’t realize she was capable of. She pushed it back, denied it, focused only on his face.
His handsome, perfect, lying goddamned face.
“Tell him what?” he asked, darting a glance Sonny’s way.
You son of a bitch, Sonny responded with her eyes.
“About the pot.” Carly tilted her head toward the officer, as if preparing to divulge all. “He caught us smoking a joint in my room. Totally freaked out about it, of course. I’m still grounded.”
The officer looked to Ben for confirmation.
“Teenagers,” he said with a charming shrug that may or may not have been an admission.
To his credit, the cop wasn’t fooled. “Mr. Fortune, a girl is missing. If you have some information to share, I would recommend you do it now.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything more. Sonny realized that he hadn’t answered a single question directly, and that he knew exactly what he was doing. He’d been through an exhausting round of interrogations in the days after his wife’s death, an experience that must have had a profound effect on him. He was now a man who guarded his family, his privacy, and his words. He also understood the system. After all, his father was a retired criminal court judge, and his brother a public defender.
“Did you confiscate the marijuana?” the officer continued.
“There wasn’t much left to confiscate, but yeah.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I got rid of it,” Ben said in a defensive tone.
Carly leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, adopting Ben’s uncooperative attitude and presenting a united front.
Crash Into Me Page 13
