Chasing Thunder

Chasing Thunder by Ginger Voight Page A

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Authors: Ginger Voight
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grin that Baby was quickly learning to love. “Dinner is officially served.”
    “Shouldn’t we wait for M.J.?” she asked. Snake and Kid shared a look. Without another word, Snake carried his plate into the dining room. Baby immediately felt bad. “Was it something I said?”
    Kid shook his head. “It’s complicated,” he replied, shrugging. He followed his brother from the room. With a sigh, Baby hoisted the big bowl into her arms and followed her hosts.
    They spent the rest of their evening devouring their barbecue feast and playing a rousing board game, in which they broke each and every rule. They retired to the living room to watch a double feature of gory horror films. Baby missed most of it, hiding behind her hands as she giggled in her seat, nestled between the two of them.
    But no matter what they did to pass the time, hoping that she’d return and complete their happy little makeshift family, M.J. still hadn’t come home by the time the last movie ended. Baby could tell by the look on Snake’s face that this was nothing new.
    She also knew he didn’t like it one little bit, evidenced by the quieter, and drunker, he became as the night dragged on.
    He went to bed an hour before they did. “Is it always like this?” she finally asked Kid.
    He nodded. “Snake says she’s like a feral cat. You can let her in, fill her bowl, and stroke her neck. But the call of the wild will always prevail. It’s why they’re not married,” he said. “She’s not exactly the ‘happily ever after’ kind of girl.”
    Baby snickered. “I gathered that. Poor Snake,” she mused, thinking about the man who had opened his home to her, no strings attached. He treated her like he treated Kid. He was a big brother, with a quick smile, a quicker joke, and a strong set of shoulders that invited her to lean on him.
    “Honestly, I’m surprised that she’s here now.”
    Kid’s softly spoke admission caught her attention. “Why?”
    “You’ve heard about the serial killer targeting teen prostitutes?” She shook her head. “Big news out here,” he said. “Some sicko has been targeting teen girls, mostly from the underground sex trade. This sadist has taken it upon himself to punish them by removing or destroying anything on them that could be used for sex.”
    She gulped. “What do you mean?”
    He considered for a moment whether or not he should answer. She couldn’t even hang with comical zombies. Finally he took a deep breath and answered. “He cuts off their hands and their feet and their nipples. He sews their mouths shut and cuts out their vaginas and their rectums.”
    Immediately Baby wanted to puke barbecue and potato salad all over the worn rug. “Sorry I asked,” she muttered, reaching for her soda.
    “The press calls him the Hard Candy Killer, because that’s what he goes after.”
    “Hard candy?” she repeated.
    “It’s what men call young girls. You know, like jailbait. It’s how a lot of them advertise their sex services online, so I guess it just stuck because all the victims are prostitutes.”
    Again she swallowed hard.
    Kid looked at her new dark hair, and was tempted to reach over and touch it. “They’ve been found all over L.A. The forest, the beach, downtown. You know Hollywood is next. I honestly didn’t expect to see M.J. till all that was over.”
    Baby felt even sicker to her stomach. She thought about the look on Isbecky’s face when he’d had her pinned on the bed. He’d looked maniacal. She had been truly worried for her safety, even all the way out of his house, down the treacherous hill, and on the streets of Hollywood. As it turned out, she had been in more trouble than she knew. What had she been thinking to come out here?
    “So he targets teen prostitutes?” she asked, and Kid nodded.
    “A very specific type, too. He likes ’em young and blonde. Wholesome.” The color drained from Baby’s face. “Are you okay?” Kid asked at once.
    She nodded, but then shook

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