Dead in Bed by Bailey Simms, The Complete First Book (5 page)

My car heaved forward.
Jason spun around, and the next I saw of him was just his hand flopping out
through the window. I’m not sure, but I may have broken his arm.

I didn’t have much
time to wonder about it, though, because my bumper hit the two wooden police
barricades. I lurched forward with the impact, and I worried for a moment that
I might not make it through. But I kept my foot on the gas, and my little car
surged forward, knocked the barriers aside, and sent them tumbling onto the
road.

I looked into the
rearview mirror.

My taillights were
just bright enough to illuminate Jason limping forward. He raised his gun with
one hand. I ducked and kept speeding forward as fast as my car would go, but I
was already too far away; he lowered his gun without firing, and I turned the
corner onto the completely empty highway.

I drove faster and
faster, trying to catch my breath, maxing out at a little over ninety miles an
hour. The road was completely empty. The night was completely dark.

And then I felt it:
someone’s hand on my shoulder.

I froze, terrified.

I was driving way too
fast to take my eyes off the road or move at all. My car was shuddering from
the speed.

As I tried to slow the
car, for a moment I reasoned that this was impossible, that maybe my seat belt
had tightened when I’d crashed through the barricades…but I wasn’t wearing my
seat belt.

Someone really
was
in the back of my car—had 
been
 
in
 the back of my car this whole time—and now they were
touching my shoulder.

I felt an index finger
slowly run up the skin on my neck. Very lightly, it touched my ear.

I held on tight to the
wheel and reached for the gun. I felt its metallic grip at the tips of my
fingers.

But I didn’t grab it.

Because
something really, really strange started to happen.

It didn’t matter that I
was truly afraid Haley had been hurt, or worse. Or that I was so worried I may
have cheated on Shawn. Or that I was utterly terrified that someone was in the
back of my car, running their finger along the softest part of my neck. Despite
all of this, the weirdly euphoric sensation of invincibility that had overcome
me after waking up still hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was suddenly
becoming more intense.

And
not only more intense.
Something else, too.

Whoever was behind me
drew their hand down over my shoulder, slowly across my ribs and abdomen, and then
plunged it, very softly, into my underwear.

I still had no idea
who was doing this. And yet, somehow, I was deeply aroused.

My thoughts flashed to
dancing with Bryce Tripp, and lighting my cigarette from his, and his icy blue
eyes, and for a moment I thought that someone as confident and audacious as
this could only have been him.

And then I remembered
something else: it hadn’t been Morgan who’d talked Ian into having one more
shot with us, like I’d thought earlier. It had been 
me
. Morgan had been goading him, but it wasn’t until 
I
 spoke up that Ian finally glanced
in my direction, and, for just a moment, he gave me this look that seemed to
say 
I’d do anything you ask me to
do, anything at all
. Then he drank down his second shot.

I took my hand off the
gun.

Instead, I clutched
the fabric of Ian’s hoodie in the seat beside me.

Whoever it was in the
backseat right now, reaching even deeper into my underwear while I tried to
keep the car on the
road,
was probably more likely to
be anyone in the world other than my own sister’s husband.

And yet no matter how
well I knew it couldn’t possibly be Ian, for a moment I 
hoped
 somehow that it was.

January 6
^th
, 2014

11:19 a.m.

Author’s Update

I slept
so
well last night. I mean, yeah, I was
terrified because I’d actually put the first part of my novel out into the world.
And it’s not like anyone’s actually going to read it, but for a moment I
worried that I’d made a huge mistake. I even almost took it down. After all,
the story’s not exactly family friendly. Ha
ha
. But I
worked crazy hard writing it over the past week. And after my moment of panic, I
started to feel
kinda
good
that I’d posted it.
Really good, actually.
Even if it was just on this little blog.
So I let myself
feel a little happy as I drifted off.

In case anyone actually
does
start reading this, I should probably say a little about
who
I am. That’s what you’re supposed to do on a blog,
right? Well, I guess I'm just a girl from a small town who loves really good
stories. My teacher told me I should try to publish my writing one day, so
that’s what I’m trying to do—though suspense thrillers about a plague
that turns people into crazed sex-fiends probably wasn't exactly what she had
in mind! Ever since I learned about my stupid medical condition, though, I've
been stuck at home without much else to do. And I really love writing. It's an
escape, and it makes me feel better about things. So I’ve definitely decided to
keep publishing new parts until the series ends—or until my dad finds out
what I'm doing (if he ever sees any of this, he'll kill me).

If by some miracle
anyone out there starts reading this, it would be awesome to hear from you. Tweet
or message @
BaileySimms
.

xxBailey

January 10
^th
, 2014

4:07 p.m.

Stiff

I’m really not the kind of
person who would ever act like this—or even
think
like this.

First of all, I
wouldn’t ever seriously consider sleeping around on my husband, even though our
marriage had fallen into a pretty deep rut. And I’m definitely not the kind of
person who would ever actually get…well, just a little bit, um,
wet
at the touch of a stranger’s hand on
my shoulder. It was true that I
liked
sex, just like everybody else does. And for a while I
really
liked it, especially with Shawn when we were younger and
things had been going well between us and we were like best friends. But I would
never let anyone put his hand deep into my underwear while I was careening down
a highway in the dark—not even Shawn in high school. And what I would
absolutely
never do with a stranger’s
fingertip pressed slightly inside me is actually
hope
that it was my sister’s husband doing it.

Or at least I thought
I wasn’t that kind of person.
Until then.
And I wasn’t
sure how I felt about it.

“You’re
wet
,” a voice whispered behind me.

It wasn’t what I
expected. It wasn’t Ian’s voice, that’s for sure. And it definitely wasn’t any
guy I knew.

Before I could react,
I heard laughter. Shocked laughter. It was Morgan.

“Oh my God!” she said,
no longer whispering and now laughing out loud. She jerked her hand out of my
pants. “You actually got a little into that, I think!”

Finally I was able to
slow the car to a reasonable speed, and I turned my head just enough to glimpse
the outline of Morgan’s face.

“What the
fuck are
you doing?” I snapped my head back around to keep
my eyes on the road,
then
glanced in the rearview
mirror. “Morgan! What are you doing in my car?”

I was still so
startled that I could barely process the fact that the person who’d just had
their hand down my pants was my best friend. Maybe one time at a lame-ass
football party in high school some of the guys had pressured us into kissing
each other, and we’d gone along just to prove we weren’t prudes. But otherwise
Morgan had never done anything like this.
It really
weirded
me out.

She couldn’t stop
laughing. “Who did you think I
was
?”

“You scared the shit
of me!” I said
,
trying to sound more annoyed than
flustered and pretending I hadn’t been turned on. “Morgan? What the hell? I
almost wrecked the car! Your hands are like ice! What the
fuck
are
you doing in here?”

“That was the funniest
thing ever!” She kept laughing. “I thought you were so scared, at first. But
obviously you weren’t
just
scared!”

Still giggling, she
climbed over the seat. I pulled Ian’s hoodie out of the way, careful to keep
the gun wrapped inside, before she sat down.

“But, wow, actually,”
she said, “I mean, where did your tummy go? There’s like nothing there.” She
reached over and felt my abdomen. “I didn’t know you were trying to lose
weight, Ash. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

I was still flustered.
I couldn’t understand why Morgan would decide to hide in my car and then reach
into my pants out of the blue. It was bizarre. Nothing was making any sense.

“You’ve been spending
too much time with Jason,” I mumbled.

But even Jason’s
influence couldn’t quite explain how Morgan was acting. I was still basically
clueless about whatever weird shit had been happening since last night, but
obviously things had gone very wrong in Muldoon, and I had a feeling they were
going to get worse. And yet, here was Morgan, still laughing as if everything
were
perfectly normal and we’d just been out drinking
together.

“I broke it off with
him last night,” she said, catching her breath after laughing and settling into
the passenger seat. “He definitely wasn’t happy about it. I’ve been avoiding
him. Sorry I didn’t help you deal with him back at the fairgrounds. Really, Ash,
I’m sorry. I just didn’t want him to see me in the car after everything.” She
slapped my arm with the back of her hand. “But that was crazy awesome what you
just did! He’s such an asshole! I bet he shit his pants when you broke through
that roadblock. I mean
,
he should totally pay if you
have to fix anything on your car. I bet you could even get him fired, after all
that
pervy
shit he said to you.”

Morgan put her head in
her hands. I could see by the dashboard lights that her hair was
unbrushed
and that she was still wearing the same clothes
she’d worn last night.

We were quite the
pair. She looked like she’d just woken up, too.

“I’m still so fucking
hungover,” she groaned, then forced
herself
to
straighten up. “So are you
gonna
tell me or what?" she asked suddenly. "What happened to you last
night? I was worried.”

I’d been hoping Morgan
could help
me
answer this question.

I had no idea how much
she knew, but I wasn’t quite ready to tell her that I’d completely blacked out
and woken up in a room at the Starlight.

“You first,” I said.
At least having Morgan in the car would help take my mind off worrying about
Haley while I drove home. Now that I was recovering from her weird prank, I was
actually incredibly glad to see her. “How’d it go with you and Bryce Fancy-Ass
Tripp?” I asked.

“
Me?
” Morgan sounded genuinely surprised. “I couldn’t even get him
to notice me,” she said. “Not after we got to the bar, anyway.
You
were the one he couldn’t take his
eyes off.”

“I doubt that,” I
said. “So I guess you didn’t get to see the inside of his bus?”

“Seriously?
You
were the one who disappeared with
him. You should have seen how worried Ian got before he went out looking for
you.” Morgan let out a little laugh. “But after how you were dancing with him,
I
gotta
say. I’ve been telling you all this time to
think about leaving Shawn, but I
kinda
thought maybe you were finally going for it. And, I mean, Bryce Tripp’s not a
bad a way to do it.”

She glanced over at
me.

“Well, you know me.” I
shrugged. “I’m the good kid. You said it last night. I couldn’t do something
like that to Shawn.”

I kept my eyes on the
road. I could feel Morgan staring at me.

“Okay,” she said. “So,
then, what
did
you do after we split
up? I was looking for you. I was worried, Ash.”

“Worried? Why? I just
ended up back at the beer garden for a little while.”

I didn’t like lying to
Morgan, but I was too confused about what had actually happened to just tell
her the truth. I’d explain later, after I got my bearings. She’d forgive me. I
hoped.

“Then after that,” I continued,
“I was at the campground with some people I met from Boulder or somewhere. I
can hardly remember, actually. It’s your fault you got me so drunk. Then Ian
found me and took me home.”

“Really,” Morgan said,
sounding suspicious. “Ian drove you home?”

I wasn’t sure if she
knew I was lying or if she was trying to suggest that I had something going on
with Ian.

“But what about you?”
I tugged at her unbuttoned jacket sleeve and laughed. “What did
you
get up to?”

“Just stayed at the
bar, pretty much. They actually ran out of beer on tap around one o’clock. So
everyone just had more whiskey.” She rubbed her eyes,
then
let out a long yawn. “When the police started making everyone leave, I couldn’t
find you, and the phones were all jammed, so I just went to your car. I was
gonna
wait for you, but I guess I
fell asleep. I tried to get out of the fairgrounds in the morning, but they
wouldn’t let me. I was so hungover I just went back to your car and tried to
sleep it off. I figured you’d show up eventually.”

“So do you have any
idea what happened last night?” I asked.
“I mean, have you
heard anything?”

“Not a fucking clue.
Some carney died at the high school, and later some kid got attacked at the
fair.” She shrugged. “That’s all anyone’s saying. I was
kinda
wondering if Ian filled you in on any of the
details today. He must know more. He didn’t say anything to you?” Morgan had
that same tone in her voice again when she mentioned Ian, but now I couldn’t
tell if she was suspicious or feeling guilty about something she wasn't saying.
I thought about Ian’s army hoodie and his gun in my car, and Morgan sleeping
there. Had she been with him?

Of
course not.
Ian was married to my sister. I didn’t know why my thoughts
even went there.

“I haven’t talked to
Ian,” I said, and I realized I had no idea if that was true or not. I may have
talked to Ian last night and just couldn’t remember it.

In a small town like
Muldoon, word about anything gets out fast. Everyone at the bar last night already
knew about the body at the high school. So it was hard to believe that no one
seemed to know anything at all about the girl who’d been attacked, or who’d
done it. I couldn’t figure out why the police would keep information like this
secret. I also couldn’t figure out why they would block people from going in and
out of the fairgrounds. It didn’t make sense that people had to stay there
against their will after the cops had just evacuated the place.

My headlights reached
a car parked on the side of the road up ahead. It was the first car I’d seen anywhere
near the highway. Its taillights’ red glow dimly illuminated a hay field that
stretched out into the darkness from the road.

As I drew closer, I
could see that both of the car’s front doors were wide open. I couldn’t make
out what kind of car it was. As far as I could tell, no one was sitting inside,
and I couldn’t see anyone standing around.

Normally I would have
slowed down in case someone was in trouble or hurt. But after everything that
had happened, the empty car was unnerving. I sped up just a little and
passed it.

Morgan watched the car
out the window as we drove by, and then turned around in her seat to look
behind us.

“What was that?” For
some reason she was whispering. “Did you see that? Out in the field?”

“What?”

“Wait—go back,
go back. What was that? Something was out in the field.”

I really, really just
wanted to go home. I wasn’t looking forward to confronting Shawn—I still
had no idea what I was going to tell him about where I'd been last night. At
least when I reached my house, though, I could call my sister and make sure
Haley was safe. But I was born and raised in a small rural town, and in small
rural towns you don’t just pass a car on the side of the road without making
sure everything’s okay. What if someone needed help? If I were hurt on the side
of the road and someone just drove by, I’d feel awful.

I slowed down. I
started to loop the car around to make a U-turn.

“Hurry,” Morgan
whispered. She tapped the window, pointing into the darkness beyond the
abandoned car. “Out there. Shine your headlights out there.”

When I was about fifty
yards from the parked car, I turned the wheel so the headlights would shine in
the general direction Morgan had been pointing.

It was a hay field, pretty
much just like any of the other thousands of hay fields in northern Colorado.
The stubble was short; it had been cut recently. Big round bales of rolled hay
were scattered as far as my headlights reached.

“There! There!” Morgan
yelled through her whispering voice. “Just turn back a little.”

I maneuvered my car so
the headlights pointed toward a part of the field they’d just passed over.

I searched the field
again, but still couldn’t see anything. There was just the abandoned car with
its doors open and lights on and, out beyond, hundreds of hay bales.

“Oh my
God
,” Morgan whispered. “Who
is
that?”

I still couldn’t see
anything. But the tone of Morgan’s voice was scaring me.

“Where?”

“
There!
”

Morgan nodded stiffly
toward the field as if she were trying to avoid making any fast movements.

Finally, I saw what
she was looking at.

I’d been scanning the
field, searching for someone standing or maybe lying in the stubble. I hadn’t
looked on top of the bales themselves. They were almost six feet tall, and I
knew from experience as a kid that they weren’t easy to climb onto.

But someone had.
Two people, in fact.

On top of one of the bales,
about three rows from the road, I could make out a man’s back. It was bare. And
a pair of equally bare female legs were
wrapped around
him. From this distance, it seemed that they were swaying back and forth
together.

It had to be a couple
of high school kids having sex. They must have been enjoying themselves—I
was shining my headlights right toward them, but they weren’t letting up.

Morgan put her hand
over her mouth and giggled. “Who
is
that?”

“Just some kids,” I
said, not quite sharing Morgan’s interest. “Fair’s cancelled. What else are
they going to do around here? Let’s go. Obviously our help isn’t exactly
needed.”

“No, wait!” Morgan
said, still giggling. “They aren’t kids! Look! Just pull up a little closer.”

I tried to look closer,
but I couldn’t make out anything I hadn’t seen before. “I need to get home. I’m
tired.”