“And the next they’re gone.”
When Cooper turned his face toward Sawyer, his eyes were glossy, the golden flecks catching in what remained of the backyard twinkle lights. Sawyer felt herself drawn to him, a powerful force between them, and before she could consider the implication, the ramifications, she was kissing him. Her lips were pressed hard against his, and she tasted the bitter remnants of beer and then the sweet taste of Cooper as he opened his mouth, their tongues finding each other. Memories crashed over Sawyer like so many waves, breaking like shards of glass at her feet. She felt ashamed, alive, and free as Cooper’s arms slipped around her waist, pulling her close to him. His touch was soft but strong, and Sawyer loved the way he held her, making her feel safe and wanted at the same time. Cooper’s fingers found her hair and tangled themselves in it; she pressed her palms against his strong back, feeling the muscles tense underneath his thin T-shirt. Her heart thumped against his and she kissed him harder, desperate to pull him closer, to pull him into her, to block out the memories of Kevin, of the note, of everything.
A shriek cut through the night, cut through the heat, and Cooper and Sawyer were thrown apart.
“What was that?” Cooper panted.
The shriek sounded again—high pitched, anguished.
“It’s a girl.”
“It’s Chloe.” Sawyer was on her feet, the delicious beat of her heart speeding up to a painful, nervous patter. “Where is she?”
Sawyer was pawing through people in the backyard now, Cooper close behind her. “Chloe!” But her voice was lost in the din, swallowed by the beat of the pulsing bass.
“I think she’s in here,” Cooper said, grabbing Sawyer’s hand and leading her toward the house.
“Oh my God.” Sawyer stopped cold in the doorway, dropping Cooper’s hand and bracing herself against the doorframe. “Chloe.”
The party dropped off into a shocked silence as everyone turned to gape at Chloe.
Ryan was standing at her side again, but this time he appeared to be holding her up. Chloe’s head was bent, her hands pressed to her face. Sawyer could see the blood as it oozed through her best friend’s fingers. She felt herself vaulting across the room.
“What happened?”
Chloe was crying, her small shoulders quaking with the effort. “Someone, someone—”
“Someone attacked her,” Ryan finished.
“Oh my God, Chloe! Are you okay? Who was it?”
“I’m okay.” Chloe nodded, pulling her hands away from her face. There was a severe gash over her left eye. The blood had already started to congeal over the jagged, puckering skin. Sawyer rushed forward, throwing her arms around her in a quick embrace.
“Who did this to you?”
Chloe wagged her head. “I don’t know. I went out to my car to get a sweatshirt, and someone was out there with the hood open.”
“The hood of the car?” Cooper asked.
Ryan nodded. “It was still popped when I got out there. I heard her screaming and came running.”
“I told the guy to knock it off, you know, leave my car alone, and when he heard me, he turned around and swung.” Chloe’s trembling fingers gingerly touched the blood over her eye. “I don’t even know what he hit me with.”
“And you didn’t see who it was?”
Chloe shook her head. “No. He hit me and took off running, I guess. I barely even remember that. I felt it, then I know I was falling, and then Ryan was standing over me.”
Cooper looked over Ryan’s shoulder out the open door. “You think he’s still out there?”
“Let’s go, man.”
Sawyer reached for Cooper but caught only the tail of his shirt as it sailed past her.
“If he’s still out there, they could get hurt,” Chloe said, enormous tears rollicking over her cheeks.
Sawyer nodded and took the washcloth someone handed her. She pressed it against Chloe’s forehead and guided Chloe to the couch. “I’m going to go see.” She tucked her hand in her pocket, protectively cupping her cell phone. If I don’t see the guys this millisecond, she reasoned, I’m calling 911.
But Cooper and Ryan were standing on the sidewalk, their angry faces illuminated by a slice of yellow streetlight.
“Did you see anyone?”
Cooper shook his head. “There’s no one around here.”
“We found this, though.” Ryan held a tire iron and Sawyer’s stomach lurched when she saw the black-red blood staining the metal.
Chloe’s blood.
“What was he doing out here? Breaking into Chloe’s car?” Sawyer scanned the makeshift parking lot in front of the Rutgers’ house. Cars were scattered everywhere, each one a better make or newer model than Chloe’s mother’s old, primer-colored Dodge.
“He didn’t want to steal anything,” Cooper said, pointing to the car. “You don’t get into the cab by going under the hood.”