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Authors: Lori L. Clark

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BOOK: Blood and Sympathy
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While I sat along the side of the road trying to
get my shit together, Kim drove by. I wasn't sure she'd seen me, tiny and
insignificant in the dark. The first sigh of relief came when I saw her brake
lights come on, the second happened when her reverse lights lit up the night.
Maybe there was someone watching out for me after all. Not that I was drunk,
not by my standards, anyway. But I'd been drinking, and I was pretty sure I
wouldn't be able to blow under the legal limit if the cops came.

She stopped the car and the door swung open. She
leaned out to get a better look. "Claire?"

"Hey, Kim." I stood and tried putting
weight on my ankle. Yeah, that wasn't happening. "Thanks for
stopping."

"What the heck happened? Where's your
car?"

I thumbed over my shoulder toward the ravine where
Olivia's car was wedged. "Alistair Anderson ran me off the road."

She parked her car and hopped out. Her eyes widened
when she got closer. "Crap, you're bleeding! Can you walk?"

Searing heat shot up my leg when I tried to take a
step. "That would be a no. My ankle is fucked."

"Here, lean on me," she ordered. I put
my arm over her shoulder, and she gripped my waist. "I'll go slow."

Sweat, blood, and tears covered my face by the
time she got me into the front seat of her car. My dad was going to kill me for
crashing Olivia's car, no matter the cause. There was no way for me to prove
that I'd been forced off the road, and it was just my word against Alistair's.
If my father didn't kill me, Olivia would.

Kim must've felt bad for me. She didn't take me
straight home, and she didn't dump me off at the emergency room. Instead, she
drove me around while I chewed on my options. My head throbbed, but the
bleeding had diminished to a trickle. My ankle had swelled to the size of a
cantaloupe, and with each tiny shift in the seat, I discovered something else
that was banged up or bruised.

The dried blood on my hands flaked off easily with
a fingernail. I stared zombie-like out the window of her car into the blackness
surrounding us.

"You need to have that looked at," she
said, sticking a cigarette between her lips.

"Can I have one of those?" I didn't wait
for an answer and pulled it from her mouth, frowning at the pink lip gloss
coating the filter. "I lost mine somewhere."

I lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply as I closed
my eyes and leaned my head against the headrest, wishing I had something a
little stronger to light up instead. I felt the weight of her stare on me and
exhaled, the smoke thickening the awkward tension hanging in the air.

"You could have a concussion. You probably
need stitches," she said. She cleared her throat, trying to get my
attention, but I remained silent. "Home or the hospital? Which one?"

I chewed on the inside of my mouth so hard that the
coppery taste of blood coated my tongue.
Dammit, this sucked
.
"Hospital." Maybe if they thought I was mortally wounded, their
pissed off reaction would be delayed. At least temporarily.

She did a u-turn and headed in the direction of
the hospital. There was no hospital in Hensteeth, so she drove to the next town
over. She parked under the awning of the emergency room entrance and ran to
grab a nearby wheelchair. It was crowded and smelled like vomit and sweat. My
stomach gurgled, and if I could have, I would have run out of there so fast I
would have been just a blur.

I filled out the paperwork, and we found two empty
seats together and waited.

"You should probably call your dad."

My nose scrunched at the thought. "I'll try
Olivia first." It wouldn't do any good. She couldn't get here without
telling Dad since her car was out of commission at the moment, thanks to me.
She'd have to borrow his car to drive here, and he let us drive his car ...never.

It was after midnight. Fuck, where had the time
gone? I should have been enjoying myself with a pretty serious buzz instead of
sitting in a germ-infested hospital waiting for some overworked, overtired
person to glare at me with judgmental eyes and pseudo concern over my non-life-threatening
injuries.

I dialed Olivia's number and she answered on the
third ring. "Claire? What the hell?"

Anxiety made the blood pound in my ears, and I
didn't even know what to say to her, so I blurted out. "I'm at the
hospital."

"Oh my God, are you hurt?"

"No, I just thought coming to the emergency
room would be a lot more exciting than, you know, hanging out and getting
sloshed with my classmates." I stood, and the pain from my leg shot
through me like an explosion of nerve endings, making me lightheaded. My knees
buckled and I collapsed back into the chair.

Kim pried the phone from my fingers and relayed
the details to Olivia. Anyway you looked at things, they sucked. The
conversation was brief and she handed my cell back to me. "She's going to
wake your dad, they'll be here soon." Kim tugged her bottom lip between
her teeth. I knew she wanted to get the hell out of dodge before my dad and
sister arrived. I didn't blame her.

I flicked my fingers at her. "Go on. If you
hurry, you might still be able to get some partying done before daylight."
I tried to smile, but it was hard with tears and dirt streaking down my face.

"I'm not going to the party now," she
said, twisting her rings around on her fingers. She gathered her thick blonde
hair into a ponytail. "It's not that. I just really don't want to be here
when they get here. This is a private, family matter."

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "Private. Right.
Because we both know it won't be all over town before Sunday services."

She giggled. "Probably won't take that long.
You may even make Saturday's paper."

I scowled. "No doubt."

Saturday. June first. Braden was getting out of
juvie. I promised him I'd be there. I was supposed to be riding with Jeb to
pick him up. No way was that going to happen.

They wheeled me back for an x-ray, and Kim skated
before Dad and Olivia got there. Thankfully, I wasn't sitting in the waiting
room in front of God and everybody when they arrived. My dad would never make a
scene. He'd keep calm until we were home, and then there would be hell to pay. His
punishments were more the silent but deadly type. When I was younger, one of
his looks would have me peeing in my pants.

In a matter of a few hours, I'd managed to fuck
things up royally. I had wrecked Olivia's car, I wouldn't be going to bring
Braden home, and I was probably going to be grounded for the entire summer.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Brogan
Sayer

 

Braden is a smug motherfucker. He thinks he's
better than me just because he's managed to fool everyone all these years by
kissing ass. I've got news for him. He's in for a rude awakening if he plans on
walking out of here and being a model citizen. Yeah, right. I don't know whose
dick he had to suck to get out early, but I've got a little surprise planned
for him and that fucking uncle of mine.

It's bad enough the pussy lied to everybody,
making me out to be the bad guy in all of this. He hated our stepdad as much as
I did, and just because he didn't actually set the fire didn't mean he wasn't
thinking about doing it. I only did what we both wanted to do. It still makes
my fucking blood boil whenever I think of him bawling like a baby in front of
the judge. Boo-fucking-hoo.

I got me a plan. I'm not sticking around this
joint for another six months until they decide my fate. They can kiss my lily
white ass if they think that's going to happen. I didn't sign up to do that
volunteer shit for fun. The joke's going to be on them when I wander off.

My bro ain't the only one that's been talking to a
chick on the outside. I got me one, too. My girl Aja will be waiting for me a
couple blocks from where we're going to be working. By the time these friggin'
idiots figure out I'm missing, I'll be long gone. Aja's got a car and she rents
a place near Devil's Fork Lake.

First thing I'm going to do is make Aja wrap her
little mouth around my shaft so I can come all over that pretty wide-eyed face
of hers. It makes me hard just thinking about it.

I think Braden might have pissed his pants when he
saw me this morning. Little does that the fucker know, it's release day for
both of us, and I'm going to be watching that little wus. I'll take him down;
hit him where it hurts the most. The preacher's daughter. I'll be their worst
fucking nightmare.

They led us outside, single file, like a bunch of
cattle heading down the chute to slaughter. We're chained together at the
ankles and our hands are cuffed behind us. They can't keep us under lock and
key the whole time; they've got to remove them so we can work. It's a
precautionary measure to prevent us from slitting the van driver's throat and
turning it into an out of control riot on wheels.

The thought made me giggle like a girl, earning me
a look from the guy in the seat next to me. I narrowed my eyes at him but kept
my comments to myself. He's lucky I was in a good mood. Otherwise, I'd have
bitch-slapped the dumb fuck.

When we got to the park, I made a quick scan. Aja
had told me all about the place. She instructed me to find the corner of
Cypress and Magnolia and said I should try to stick close to that area because
it's the busiest intersection. We agreed that I'd make my move as soon as the
noon whistle blew. The people on the streets and sidewalks would be busy
grabbing their lunch and heading to the park to take in the weather if it was a
nice day.

Luck was on my side. That's how I knew things were
meant to be, when shit just fell into place without a hitch. The weather
couldn't have been any better if I'd ordered it up special myself. The best
part? I was put to work right in the exact spot I needed to be. If that wasn’t
the universe giving me the green light, I didn't know what was.

By the time noon rolled around, I had gravy balls.
Sweat was running down the crack of my ass, and there wasn't a dry stitch of
clothing on my body, but I was too pumped up to care. The whistle blew and I
waited two minutes, long enough for people to start scattering like ants at a frickin'
picnic.

My eyes darted around to find the guards. No one
was paying attention to me. I was able to slip across the street undetected. As
soon as I turned the corner, I spotted Aja's beat-up Buick, and sprinted toward
the door.

She had a change of clothes waiting for me and as
soon as we were out of the city limits, I peeled off the jumpsuit I had on and got
into some real fucking jeans. Aja grinned and licked her lips when I shucked my
skivvies. "Keep looking at me like that, woman, I'm gonna make you pull
over and give me a little road head."

She smiled, her eyes shifting to the rearview
mirror. "I thought you'd never ask, baby." She signaled and pulled
off onto a side road. When her tiny hand cupped my balls, I thought I was going
to bust a nut right there. She quickly wrapped her ruby red lips around me and
began sucking like a damn Hoover. My hands fisted and my toes curled, and I
lasted all of thirty seconds before blasting her tonsils.

I threaded my fingers through her thick mop of
hair and tugged her away from me so I could finish getting dressed. "That
was the best blowjob I've ever had."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Fucker. That
better be the only blowjob you've had."

I laughed. "Yeah, baby. Trust me, your lips
are the only thing, other than my hand, that have ever been wrapped around my
dick."

Satisfied with my answer, she wiped her mouth with
the back of her hand and eased back onto the road.

Life was good, and it was about to get a whole lot
better.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Braden Sayer

 

Breakfast consisted of nothing on my last day
inside. Anxiety had my stomach tied up in knots the size of my fist and there
was no way I could eat. Was I ready to get the hell out of here and go live
with my Uncle Jeb? Part of me was anxious to leave, while another part of me
wanted to stay with the familiar. Jesus, was I going crazy?

I'd met with all my former teachers and
counselors. Everyone had high hopes for me, and that instilled in me the silent
need not to let them down. They had taken a chance on me; they were the ones to
recommend my early release.

They kept the personal belongings I walked in with
at the age of twelve in a small box and handed them to me after I signed my
release papers. I sat the items on the floor beside my feet and took a seat to
wait for Uncle Jeb to arrive. Since I was still a minor, I had to be released
into his custody, and there were forms for him to fill out before they'd let me
leave.

Was he late, or was I just overly anxious to get
the fuck out? Maybe I was extra jittery because Claire was joining us for the
ride back to Hensteeth. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, wiped my hands down
the front of my pants, and picked up the box. I pulled out the pair of blue
jeans I'd worn that day. Had I ever been that small?

While I waited, I watched the group of boys who
signed up for volunteer work line up by the exit. A plain white passenger van
sat idling just outside the door. My brother shot me a look, his expression
unreadable. He narrowed his eyes and nodded once before shuffling out with the
others. A strange sense of dread coursed through me and lifted the hairs on the
back of my neck. I couldn't put my finger on anything out of the ordinary, but
had a gut feeling that something just wasn't right. I shook it off and breathed
a sigh of relief as the van left, chalking my discomfort up to nerves.

The buzzer sounded, the door from out front slid
open, and Uncle Jeb was escorted inside. He grinned at me before they led him
to the office to sign whatever he needed to sign to get me out.

BOOK: Blood and Sympathy
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