head with all that nonsense again. Then he'd fucked her, in more than one meaning of the word. And then he hadn't left a fucking goddamned note. And now she was looking at links, which had pictures of girls who looked exactly like Dawn and the girl in the brochure. This was just too weird.
She leaned back up to the computer and clicked the forward button twice. The picture of Dawn filled the screen. "Missing since 10/23/89," read the caption. Jesus Christ. It couldn't be the same Dawn. She looked exactly the same in the picture as she did now. Just like the picture in the brochure. This was weird. This was fucked up. Ramona saved the web site to her favorites. She'd give Heather the address. Then maybe Heather would see that she wasn't losing her mind. And if she ever spoke to Garrett again, she'd have to tell him about it, because he'd want to know. Even if he didn't ever want to have sex with her again, he'd want to know about this.
* * *
"Hi Garrett," said Blair in that sugary-sweet voice of hers. She had draped herself over the library counter top like last time.
Garrett stared into her cleavage, feeling his heart leap into his throat. Where had she come from? How had she snuck up on him like that? He'd been checking in some books, glancing away from the entrance for what he swore could only have been a second, and then here she was. Larger-than-life and creepier than ever. Garrett's throat was dry. He swallowed, but it didn't help much, so his voice came out sort of hoarse. "What do you want, Blair?"
"I want you to leave town," she said. "Or didn't I make myself clear two years ago?"
He looked away from her. "What happened that night, anyway?" he asked. "You and I both know I didn't rape you."
Blair didn't say anything, so he looked back at her. She raised her eyebrows. "Got a pretty clear memory of 'that night,' do you?"
Garrett nodded.
Blair didn't look pleased. A chill scampered up Garrett's spine. Hair on the back of his neck stood up. He shook himself, but the feeling stayed. He looked away again. "I don't have anywhere to go," he muttered. "I can't leave."
Blair touched his shoulder, and he flinched. Blair laughed. "Did I scare you?" she asked.
"Always," said Garrett dryly.
Blair snickered. "Good." Languidly, she rose up off the counter and rolled her head on her shoulders. She let out her breath audibly, like she was turned on. Garrett thought he might be sick. Then again, it might have nothing to do with Blair. It might just be because he was really fucking hung over, even in the late afternoon. "Listen Garrett," said Blair. "You absolutely did rape me that night. The fact you've blocked it from your memory only proves you're a crazy, fucked-up piece of shit."
"I did not rape you," said Garrett. "I tried to help you. You were scared, you were running from—"
"Bullshit," said Blair, and the force of her interruption caused Garrett to stumble. Then her sweet voice was back. "Lie to yourself all you want," she said. "I know what really happened, and no one believes you anyway."
"What did really happen?" asked Garrett. "I thought you were dead."
"Get out of Elston," said Blair. "And get away from Ramona Brinks. Just leave her alone."
He knew it. Blair didn't like it that he and Ramona had been talking. He wondered if Blair knew that he and Ramona had done more than just talked. This was actually a good thing. She was coming here and bothering him, because she felt threatened. He had a bargaining chip. He didn't know what he was bargaining over or what the stakes were or why it was important that he struggle for the upper hand, but he knew that he needed to. "I happen to like Ramona," he said. "A helluvalot." This wasn't a lie, either. He did like Ramona.
Blair's eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea what I could do to you?" she asked him.
Garrett shrugged. "Then why don't you do it?" Truthfully, the thought of Blair doing something to him terrified him. She was like a cobra ready to pounce on him
She leaned back up to the computer and clicked the forward button twice. The picture of Dawn filled the screen. "Missing since 10/23/89," read the caption. Jesus Christ. It couldn't be the same Dawn. She looked exactly the same in the picture as she did now. Just like the picture in the brochure. This was weird. This was fucked up. Ramona saved the web site to her favorites. She'd give Heather the address. Then maybe Heather would see that she wasn't losing her mind. And if she ever spoke to Garrett again, she'd have to tell him about it, because he'd want to know. Even if he didn't ever want to have sex with her again, he'd want to know about this.
* * *
"Hi Garrett," said Blair in that sugary-sweet voice of hers. She had draped herself over the library counter top like last time.
Garrett stared into her cleavage, feeling his heart leap into his throat. Where had she come from? How had she snuck up on him like that? He'd been checking in some books, glancing away from the entrance for what he swore could only have been a second, and then here she was. Larger-than-life and creepier than ever. Garrett's throat was dry. He swallowed, but it didn't help much, so his voice came out sort of hoarse. "What do you want, Blair?"
"I want you to leave town," she said. "Or didn't I make myself clear two years ago?"
He looked away from her. "What happened that night, anyway?" he asked. "You and I both know I didn't rape you."
Blair didn't say anything, so he looked back at her. She raised her eyebrows. "Got a pretty clear memory of 'that night,' do you?"
Garrett nodded.
Blair didn't look pleased. A chill scampered up Garrett's spine. Hair on the back of his neck stood up. He shook himself, but the feeling stayed. He looked away again. "I don't have anywhere to go," he muttered. "I can't leave."
Blair touched his shoulder, and he flinched. Blair laughed. "Did I scare you?" she asked.
"Always," said Garrett dryly.
Blair snickered. "Good." Languidly, she rose up off the counter and rolled her head on her shoulders. She let out her breath audibly, like she was turned on. Garrett thought he might be sick. Then again, it might have nothing to do with Blair. It might just be because he was really fucking hung over, even in the late afternoon. "Listen Garrett," said Blair. "You absolutely did rape me that night. The fact you've blocked it from your memory only proves you're a crazy, fucked-up piece of shit."
"I did not rape you," said Garrett. "I tried to help you. You were scared, you were running from—"
"Bullshit," said Blair, and the force of her interruption caused Garrett to stumble. Then her sweet voice was back. "Lie to yourself all you want," she said. "I know what really happened, and no one believes you anyway."
"What did really happen?" asked Garrett. "I thought you were dead."
"Get out of Elston," said Blair. "And get away from Ramona Brinks. Just leave her alone."
He knew it. Blair didn't like it that he and Ramona had been talking. He wondered if Blair knew that he and Ramona had done more than just talked. This was actually a good thing. She was coming here and bothering him, because she felt threatened. He had a bargaining chip. He didn't know what he was bargaining over or what the stakes were or why it was important that he struggle for the upper hand, but he knew that he needed to. "I happen to like Ramona," he said. "A helluvalot." This wasn't a lie, either. He did like Ramona.
Blair's eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea what I could do to you?" she asked him.
Garrett shrugged. "Then why don't you do it?" Truthfully, the thought of Blair doing something to him terrified him. She was like a cobra ready to pounce on him
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