Page 38 of The Graveyard Girls

Jacey’s throat clogged with emotions. She hadn’t wanted to be sent away. So she’d run away herself.

What an idiot she’d been.

Tears blurred her eyes, and she turned and ducked into the shadows, sat down on a cardboard box in the alley and sobbed like a baby.

FORTY-THREE

He stood beneath the UGA arches, wondering if his life would have been different if he’d had the opportunity to go to college.

But he’d been trapped with an ignorant mother with no money or motivation and told he was stupid and worthless his whole life. A smile curved his mouth though as he watched a pretty blond stumble from the bar across the street. The temptation to take her struck him like lightning zipping through his veins, but seconds later, a group of her friends joined her, staggering as they held each other up.

Too dangerous. Besides, he liked them a little younger before they’d spread their legs for half a dozen boys.

Adrenaline heated his blood. There were dozens of girls on the UGA campus every day. Pretty and vulnerable because they lived in youthful denial that predators lurked among the college crowd with their fake IDs, propensity to get trashed at the bars and loose morals. Free at last from their parental bonds, they were excited to test their independence and live on the edge.

He crossed the street, tugged his bulldog cap low over his forehead and headed down the street away from the hub of the party life where he’d parked his truck. Night had long set in, and clouds obliterated the stars, adding a layer of darkness thathelped him go unnoticed by curious eyes. Nobody gave him a second glance.

He climbed in his truck and drove to the gas station, then filled up. As he finished, he heard something in the alley. A sick cat?

No… it sounded human.

He eased his way into the alley and spotted a teenage girl slumped on a cardboard box crying into her hands. She wore a Georgia sweatshirt and was younger than the coeds, maybe fifteen or sixteen.

He jammed his hands in his pockets and walked slowly so as not to alarm her, adopting a non-threatening expression and tone as he reached her.

“Hey, miss,” he said as he paused by the corner. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, cheeks red and splotchy from her emotional outburst. She looked young and innocent yet haunted at the same time. His fingers itched to touch her, to pull the red scarf from his pocket. To feel his fingers close around her throat.

The red boots caught his eyes. A lot of the college girls wore the UGA colors of red and black.

Temptation stirred inside him.

“I just want to help,” he said in a low tone. “Make sure you get where you’re going.”

She stared at him for a long minute, body trembling, indecision warring in her eyes.

He held up his hands as if to indicate he wasn’t a threat. “It’s dangerous for a young girl to be out here alone. I’ll walk you where you want to go. Or I have my truck. I can drive you to the bus station if that’s what you want.”

Her breath heaved out. “I don’t have money for a ticket.”

He smiled and pulled some cash from his pocket. “Here, this should be enough.”

She took it and clutched it in her hand as if it was her lifeline. She still looked wary but seemed to relax slightly.

“Why would you do that?” she asked in a shaky voice.

He shrugged. “I have a sister your age. If she was in trouble, I’d hope someone would do the same for her.”

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she peered around the corner, then gave a nod. “A ride to the bus station would be great.”

His heart began to pound, and he gestured for her to walk with him, making sure he didn’t spook her by getting too close. When they reached his truck, she hesitated again and looked around. A shadow appeared on the sidewalk behind her, and she made a little yelping sound of fear, then jumped into the passenger seat.

Victory sent excitement through his veins, and he got in and locked the doors. The clicking of the lock sounded like music to his ears.

So would her scream when he got her to a deserted area and she realized she’d climbed in the car with a killer.

FORTY-FOUR