Vicious. Kevin O'Brien
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“You like him, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You always get tongue-tied or say something stupid in front of guys you’re interested in,” Leo explained. “And what you said to him just now was pretty stupid. Don’t worry, he’s cool. He didn’t notice. But I did. That’s why I came back. I knew you were in here, kicking yourself.” He hesitated at the kitchen door. “So—do you like Jordan? I mean, I want you to like him, but are you interested in him?”
She shrugged uneasily. “I think he’s nice, that’s all.” Moira knew it would kill Leo if she said yes.
He gave her a wary sidelong glance. “Are you sorry you came?”
“Of course not, this is fun.” She worked up a smile and patted Leo’s arm. “You guys do your hot-spring thing. I’m going to finish unpacking and maybe have a civilized bath.”
Leo threw her a crooked smile. “See ya in a bit, Moira.” Then he let the screen door slam shut behind him as he headed back outside.
Moira wandered over to the door and gazed out past the screen. Off to the side in the small backyard was a flagstone patio with a barbecue pit, a picnic table, and two deck chairs. The woods lay beyond that. She watched Leo and Jordan head for a break in the trees—obviously the trail to the hot spring.
They disappeared in the darkness past that first row of trees.
From behind some bushes alongside the cabin, he watched the two young men forge into the woods with bath towels tucked under their arms. Then he peered through the kitchen window at the girl. She was a tall, willowy thing with a short pixie-style haircut. She looked very fetching in those tight jeans and the long-sleeved white T-shirt. She seemed like the type who came from money, read books, and got straight A’s at school.
He imagined the public outcry when a girl of her pedigree suddenly vanished. With her slim figure, she would be a radical change from the pleasantly plump Wendy and the mannish Monica. She was younger and prettier than them, too. Maybe he’d even keep her alive for a while—something to amuse him after he finished off Susan.
Watching her in profile at the kitchen door, he wondered if she knew what she was doing. The girl seemed unconscious of it. As if in a trance, she ran a hand down her neck, then her T-shirt, and over her breasts. Budding teenage sexuality, he thought, licking his lips.
He only had to wait a little longer—until the boys were farther along in the woods. Then he’d make his move. They just had to be a bit farther away.
He didn’t want them to hear her screams.
With a sigh, Moira stepped away from the screen door. She grabbed a Smartwater out of the refrigerator and retreated upstairs. The guys had her staying in the master bedroom—very cozy with a slanted ceiling, a four-poster queen bed, and a potbellied stove. The large window looked out at the forest and a long, private driveway to the cabin. Jordan and Leo would share a cramped loft space with a futon down the hall. They had a window, too—a little porthole, like something in the steerage section of a ship. Moira felt a bit guilty scoring the better accommodations, but Jordan and Leo had insisted.
She bypassed her bedroom and checked out their sleeping quarters off the hallway. Jordan had changed out of the black T-shirt he’d been wearing earlier. Now it was draped over the loft-space railing—just off the hallway. Moira couldn’t resist pulling it down from the banister. His scent was on it—a musky smell mixed with a subtle, spicy cologne fragrance. She put the shirt to her face and breathed it in.
“Oh, what the hell,” she murmured. Moira pulled her long-sleeved top over her head, took off her bra, and then donned Jordan’s shirt. His bare skin had been against this same, thin, soft material. Her whole body tingled. She started to unzip her jeans. She wanted to be naked—except for his T-shirt.
That was when she heard a noise outside. It sounded like something had bumped against the side of the cabin.
Alarmed, Moira quickly fastened up the front of her jeans, then headed up the hallway to her bedroom. She gazed out the big window, but it was so dark outside, she couldn’t see anything except her own reflection.
Moving close to the window, her breath fogged the glass. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered outside. Directly below, she noticed a patch of light and her own shadow on the dirt ground in front of the house. It was so dark out there she couldn’t see much else beyond the first row of trees on the other side of the driveway. “Probably just a raccoon or something,” she muttered to herself.
Backing away from the window, she caught her reflection again. She looked like an idiot in Jordan’s oversized T-shirt. What the hell was wrong with her?
Moira shuffled back down the hall toward the loft area. Pulling off Jordan’s T-shirt, she carefully draped it on the railing—exactly where it had been. Then she put her bra and top back on. Returning to the master bedroom, she started to unpack her overnight bag.
She wished she hadn’t come here. This weekend getaway had been Leo’s brainchild. His eighteenth birthday was tomorrow. She and Jordan had asked him—separately—what he wanted to do to celebrate the occasion. He’d proposed a mini vacation with his two best friends at Jordan’s family cabin. Apparently, the Prewitts sometimes rented out the place, and Jordan had to get the okay from some local leasing company so they could use the cabin this weekend. Leo had been here only twice before.
Moira didn’t know if either of those previous visits had included a skinny-dip in the hot spring, but maybe that was one reason Leo had wanted her along on this trip. In addition to his lame-o strip poker proposition a few weeks ago, earlier this summer on a particularly sultry evening, he’d suggested they go skinny-dipping in Lake Washington—at a spot near Madison Park Beach. “Do you know the meaning of fat chance?” she’d replied.
Yet a part of her had wanted to go along with them to the hot spring tonight. She imagined being naked in that warm spring with Jordan right now—after a scary, exciting trek through those dark woods. She imagined his muscular leg accidentally brushing against hers under the water.
Of course, Leo would be there, too—so that would have put a damper on things. Still, as much as Leo’s clumsy overtures annoyed her, she was flattered, too. She cherished Leo and didn’t want to lose that friendship.
Moira unpacked a pharmacy container of sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed. It seemed like all her friends were on some kind of medication or another—for their weight, ADHD, or depression. Moira’s problem was that she’d go to bed and think about school and her grades and college, and then she’d stare at the ceiling all night. The pills helped, but she was trying not to get too dependent on them.
Moira stashed the prescription bottle in the bureau drawer along with her socks. She didn’t want Jordan seeing it and figuring out just how neurotic she was.
She suddenly realized no one except Leo and Jordan knew where she was right now. What if something were to happen to them—or her?
Her parents had gone to Scottsdale to visit her sister. Moira’s older brother and sister had already moved away and gotten married by the time she started high school. One advantage to being the youngest was that her parents had mellowed with age and allowed her a lot of independence. So leaving her alone in the house for a week was no huge deal.
On her own, Moira had engaged in the usual Risky Business behavior—dancing around the house in her underwear, doing her homework while sipping Chivas Regal from her dad’s liquor cabinet, and masturbating a lot. Still, she’d been nervous about sleeping alone in the house, and, twice, she’d gotten Leo to stay overnight in the guest room.
He’d come up with plans for this sojourn two weeks ago. Moira had told her parents she’d spend this weekend at a girlfriend’s house. She’d said they could get ahold of her on her cell. She hadn’t known then that cell phones didn’t work around here. She’d call them from the pay phone at that grocery store tomorrow. She didn’t want them to worry.
Moira