“I know. They’ll just know that we found her. That’s it.”
“Her parents,” I said softly, haunted. “I bet they’ll be devastated.”
Bryce frowned next to me and said, “Your parents would be devastated too.”
“Would they?”
“Yeah,” he said firmly.
“Your mom would pray for me.” She should’ve prayed for Leisha.
Bryce laughed abruptly and then stopped just as quick. He swore.
I slid my hand into his and threaded our fingers. I asked, “Why don’t you want me in the mornings?”
“What?” he asked, startled. Distracted.
“In the mornings. We don’t have sex. Why not?” Bryce shrugged.
“Why not?” I pressed.
“Sheldon,” he sighed.
“I want to know.”
He burst out, “Because it’s too hard to make myself give you space if I make love to you in the mornings. It’s too hard to go back and remember your ‘hands-off’ policy.”
The emotional ties. That was why.
“I’ve never given you a hands-off policy,” I said faintly.
“It’s the same thing. No commitment, right?” Bryce cursed. “I swear, you get pissed if I don’t let other girls hit on me.”
I shifted uncomfortably.
“See,” he pointed out. “This is what Corrigan was talking about. You don’t talk about anything, especially you and me.”
“I just asked why we don’t have sex in the mornings.” I turned and glared at him.
Pissed. No, I was livid.
“No,” Bryce said firmly, daring me to argue with him. “I said ‘make love’ and you said ‘have sex.’ They’re different.”
“It’s not that different. It’s still screwing.”
“No,” he spelled it out, saddened. “You screw me. I make love to you.”
I pulled away and scooted directly underneath the water. It plastered my hair to my face, covering my eyes, nose, mouth, everything.
I sat there, stunned at Bryce’s words until he cursed and yanked me out of the water. He brushed the hair from my face and glared at me.
And then he softened and kissed me.
I moaned and clung to him, demanding. I needed this, I needed this kind of warmth.
Bryce grabbed me and lifted me on top of him.
I straddled him and sunk down until he was firmly sheathed inside of me. And then I moved.
Bryce groaned and moved with me. He grabbed my hips and we both tried to drown each other.
It didn’t take long until we exploded and I fell limply against him. Bryce swept his arms around me and kissed my shoulder, a tender kiss. He ran a soothing hand down my hair and down my back.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder.
Just then Corrigan pounded on the shower door.
Bryce swore and yelled for him to leave.
Corrigan coughed, “Cops are here. Hurry up.”
Bryce used some colorful words to describe Corrigan and what would happen if he had listened to us the entire time.
I told him to be quiet. Corrigan joked, but he wasn’t like that. We were in our world and probably couldn’t hear him knock on the bathroom door. Bryce clamped his mouth shut, but his jaw was clenched tight. Too tight.
We dressed in our dirty clothes and went to meet the police. It was two different detectives this time, but I saw Officer Patterson had accompanied them. She gave me a small nod while a balding guy in a suit started asking us questions like why didn’t we hand over the letter, what did it say, where was the letter now.
We answered each and every one. Numbly. I knew I was in a daze at the end of it when Sheila threw me a curveball. She asked, “Why didn’t you say anything about the other two letters?”
Bryce frowned.
Corrigan asked, “What?!”
I sat there and swallowed painfully. I surrendered when I met her all-too-knowing eyes, “Because…if I said something then it was real.”
“We went over your house after the breakin. We found both of them in the trash,” she said further.
This was a nightmare.
“When did you get the first note?”
Bryce and Corrigan sat stunned.
I sighed and answered, “Wednesday.”
“And the second?”
“Thursday.”
“And your house was broken into that night, correct?”
It was and I felt on trial.
Sheila glanced towards Bryce and Corrigan, but asked all of us, “Is there anyone who’s been harassing you?”
Who wasn’t?
I glanced at the guys. Corrigan slumped further in his chair. Bryce spoke up, “Chad Yerling. He’s been making threats.”
“What’s he been saying?” Officer Sheila was all business, the epitome of a detective.
“Bryce,” Corrigan warned.
Bryce shrugged it off and said flatly, “That he wants to rape Sheldon. He wants to make her scream for me to help her.”
I’d figured it was something like that.
Sheila glanced at the two detectives and asked, “How often has he made these threats?”
“A few times. He started awhile back, but last Sunday—it got worse. He got worse.”
“What else should you be telling me?” Sheila shared me in her sweeping glance.
Corrigan said quietly, “He did something to a girl last Friday night, a week ago.
We warned him to stop and not ever do anything again, but on Tuesday…he threatened Sheldon.”
“He didn’t really…” I murmured.
“He scared you. That was enough,” Corrigan said fiercely.
“And what did you do?” Sheila asked.
“Bryce roughed him up and I roughed up his car.”
I looked away.
“I got arrested for fleeing the ‘scene of an accident,’” Corrigan quoted, unapologetically.
One of the detectives mentioned, “Chad Yerling was admitted to the hospital for two days last week. Was that your handiwork?” he asked Bryce.
Bryce shook his head and Corrigan volunteered, “That was me and a few other
guys. I’ll take the fall. We wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to Sheldon or any other girl.”
“You were at a party tonight. Did anything happen at the party?”
“Yerling showed up. He was doing the same stuff. We took him out back and just threatened him again,” Bryce spoke this time. “We didn’t hurt him too bad. He was able to walk when we let him go.”
“Her parents,” I said softly, haunted. “I bet they’ll be devastated.”
Bryce frowned next to me and said, “Your parents would be devastated too.”
“Would they?”
“Yeah,” he said firmly.
“Your mom would pray for me.” She should’ve prayed for Leisha.
Bryce laughed abruptly and then stopped just as quick. He swore.
I slid my hand into his and threaded our fingers. I asked, “Why don’t you want me in the mornings?”
“What?” he asked, startled. Distracted.
“In the mornings. We don’t have sex. Why not?” Bryce shrugged.
“Why not?” I pressed.
“Sheldon,” he sighed.
“I want to know.”
He burst out, “Because it’s too hard to make myself give you space if I make love to you in the mornings. It’s too hard to go back and remember your ‘hands-off’ policy.”
The emotional ties. That was why.
“I’ve never given you a hands-off policy,” I said faintly.
“It’s the same thing. No commitment, right?” Bryce cursed. “I swear, you get pissed if I don’t let other girls hit on me.”
I shifted uncomfortably.
“See,” he pointed out. “This is what Corrigan was talking about. You don’t talk about anything, especially you and me.”
“I just asked why we don’t have sex in the mornings.” I turned and glared at him.
Pissed. No, I was livid.
“No,” Bryce said firmly, daring me to argue with him. “I said ‘make love’ and you said ‘have sex.’ They’re different.”
“It’s not that different. It’s still screwing.”
“No,” he spelled it out, saddened. “You screw me. I make love to you.”
I pulled away and scooted directly underneath the water. It plastered my hair to my face, covering my eyes, nose, mouth, everything.
I sat there, stunned at Bryce’s words until he cursed and yanked me out of the water. He brushed the hair from my face and glared at me.
And then he softened and kissed me.
I moaned and clung to him, demanding. I needed this, I needed this kind of warmth.
Bryce grabbed me and lifted me on top of him.
I straddled him and sunk down until he was firmly sheathed inside of me. And then I moved.
Bryce groaned and moved with me. He grabbed my hips and we both tried to drown each other.
It didn’t take long until we exploded and I fell limply against him. Bryce swept his arms around me and kissed my shoulder, a tender kiss. He ran a soothing hand down my hair and down my back.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder.
Just then Corrigan pounded on the shower door.
Bryce swore and yelled for him to leave.
Corrigan coughed, “Cops are here. Hurry up.”
Bryce used some colorful words to describe Corrigan and what would happen if he had listened to us the entire time.
I told him to be quiet. Corrigan joked, but he wasn’t like that. We were in our world and probably couldn’t hear him knock on the bathroom door. Bryce clamped his mouth shut, but his jaw was clenched tight. Too tight.
We dressed in our dirty clothes and went to meet the police. It was two different detectives this time, but I saw Officer Patterson had accompanied them. She gave me a small nod while a balding guy in a suit started asking us questions like why didn’t we hand over the letter, what did it say, where was the letter now.
We answered each and every one. Numbly. I knew I was in a daze at the end of it when Sheila threw me a curveball. She asked, “Why didn’t you say anything about the other two letters?”
Bryce frowned.
Corrigan asked, “What?!”
I sat there and swallowed painfully. I surrendered when I met her all-too-knowing eyes, “Because…if I said something then it was real.”
“We went over your house after the breakin. We found both of them in the trash,” she said further.
This was a nightmare.
“When did you get the first note?”
Bryce and Corrigan sat stunned.
I sighed and answered, “Wednesday.”
“And the second?”
“Thursday.”
“And your house was broken into that night, correct?”
It was and I felt on trial.
Sheila glanced towards Bryce and Corrigan, but asked all of us, “Is there anyone who’s been harassing you?”
Who wasn’t?
I glanced at the guys. Corrigan slumped further in his chair. Bryce spoke up, “Chad Yerling. He’s been making threats.”
“What’s he been saying?” Officer Sheila was all business, the epitome of a detective.
“Bryce,” Corrigan warned.
Bryce shrugged it off and said flatly, “That he wants to rape Sheldon. He wants to make her scream for me to help her.”
I’d figured it was something like that.
Sheila glanced at the two detectives and asked, “How often has he made these threats?”
“A few times. He started awhile back, but last Sunday—it got worse. He got worse.”
“What else should you be telling me?” Sheila shared me in her sweeping glance.
Corrigan said quietly, “He did something to a girl last Friday night, a week ago.
We warned him to stop and not ever do anything again, but on Tuesday…he threatened Sheldon.”
“He didn’t really…” I murmured.
“He scared you. That was enough,” Corrigan said fiercely.
“And what did you do?” Sheila asked.
“Bryce roughed him up and I roughed up his car.”
I looked away.
“I got arrested for fleeing the ‘scene of an accident,’” Corrigan quoted, unapologetically.
One of the detectives mentioned, “Chad Yerling was admitted to the hospital for two days last week. Was that your handiwork?” he asked Bryce.
Bryce shook his head and Corrigan volunteered, “That was me and a few other
guys. I’ll take the fall. We wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to Sheldon or any other girl.”
“You were at a party tonight. Did anything happen at the party?”
“Yerling showed up. He was doing the same stuff. We took him out back and just threatened him again,” Bryce spoke this time. “We didn’t hurt him too bad. He was able to walk when we let him go.”
