Justice. Faye Kellerman

rest of the fabric, I made a matching stole. I accented the entire outfit with a black lace bag, matching lace gloves cut off at the fingers, and black garters and stockings. I kept my jewelry simple—a cross around my neck and Chris’s pearl earrings—a nice, ironic touch.

      On prom night, I felt as desirable as a courtesan. Yet inside, I was pure … well, maybe not totally pure. But at least I came away from high school still a virgin.

      Daniel was speechless. His hands shook as he pinned a corsage onto my bodice. I took his arm as we walked to his car. He had wanted to rent a limo, but I told him not to waste the money. His six-year-old Volvo would do just fine. I felt cocky as I made my entrance into the gym.

      I could feel the eyes on me—male and female. The girls looking at my dress, the boys eyeing what was inside. I could hear a buzz as Daniel and I walked over to the picture line. I kept my expression genteel but inside I was flying.

      All these years of keeping a low profile. But not tonight. Tonight was my turn.

      Casually, I glanced around the room.

      I saw him before he saw me. He was absolutely gorgeous—completely at ease in formal wear. I figured he must have attended a lot of weddings in his day. He was talking to his friends, Cheryl at his side. But there was a distance between them. No body contact.

      Then she took his arm. He stiffened. She looked upset.

      I felt bad.

      He turned and looked in my direction.

      I caught his eye.

      Abruptly, his face turned into something inanimate—cold and emotionless with the eyes of a dead fish. I looked away and moved closer to Daniel. When I glanced up again, he was gone.

      I pretended the interchange never happened. I danced, I laughed, I flirted, I drank punch and ate cucumber sandwiches. Midway through the affair, I saw him again, moving through the crowd, heading for the side door.

      Without a nod to rational thought, I excused myself from Daniel and gave chase. I found him alone under a tree, knees up against his chest—same position I’d modeled for his sketches. I sat next to him, hugging myself because I was cold.

      “Stuffy in there,” I said.

      He didn’t answer.

      “Like my earrings?”

      He didn’t move.

      “Look, Chris …” I tried again. “I’m sorry it ended so badly. I’m sorry that things got so messed up. You were a very important person in my life. I feel very deeply about you and—”

      “Are you wearing garters or panty hose?” he asked me.

      I waited a beat. “What?”

      He looked at me for the first time. His voice was calm. “I asked if you were wearing garters or panty hose.”

      I stared at him.

      He shrugged. “If I’m gonna fantasize about fucking you, I want to be accurate.”

      I opened my mouth, then closed it. Without a word, I got up and went back to the gym. Daniel found me, asked me where I’d been. I didn’t answer. I’d been subdued.

      Another hour going through the motions.

      Someone put Tom Petty on the PA.

      Oh my my. Oh hell yes.

      Honey, put on that party dress.

      My head began to throb.

      Last dance with Mary Jane,

      One more time to kill the pain …

      I asked Daniel to take me to the restaurant now. I knew it was early, but I had to get out of there.

      He told me, anything I wanted.

      We were at his Volvo, almost inside, when we heard Chris call Daniel’s name. We turned around.

      “Hey, Reiss,” he said loudly. “Can I have just five minutes with your girl before you whisk her away?”

      I felt anger overflow. “Why are you asking him for permission to talk to me?”

      He turned to me, his face bathed in sweat. Jumpy eyes. An emotion in him I’d never seen before. He was nervous.

      “Just five minutes, Terry. After that, I’ll leave you alone, I swear.”

      I rolled my eyes, looked at Daniel. He gave a sheepish smile. “Maybe I’ll go grab another cup of punch.”

      “Thanks,” Chris told him.

      We both watched him walk away. When he was out of sight, Chris wiped his face with a handkerchief, then stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet.

      “I’m sorry.”

      I shrugged.

      “Terry, I’ve been a real jerk. Not only tonight but these past months. I was angry at my situation and I took it out on you. But I’m not making excuses. I acted like a total and complete asshole.”

      I shrugged again. “Who noticed?”

      He was breathing audibly. Then he rubbed his neck and laughed. “That was real rich, Terry.”

      “You want absolution, Chris, go to confession.”

      “You know, Terry, we really deserve each other. I may be a motherfucker. But deep down inside, you’re a real bitch.”

      Then he pounced on me. He shoved me against the Volvo and attacked my mouth with feral hunger. I could have protested. And I knew he would have stopped. But I didn’t.

      Because I wanted it.

      I clutched his neck and drank in his juices. His tongue wrestling with mine, moving down my neck until his mouth was between my breasts. He slipped his hands inside my dress, liberating my flesh, drawing my nipple to his mouth. He licked and moaned and so did I.

      He hiked up my dress, picked me up, and sat me on the hood of the car. His mouth ravaging mine, he opened my legs and pressed himself on top of me. My back felt the chill of the Volvo’s cold steel, but my insides were scalding hot. I coiled my legs around his hips and drew him closer. He rocked against me, bringing a sweet ache to my loins. Our warm breath mixing as his lips danced with mine.

      “Be with me, angel,” he whispered. “I’ll ditch her, you ditch him—”

      “Chris—”

      “We’ll make love until the sun comes up.”

      He dipped his hand under my panties. I was sopping wet. “I’ll take you away, baby doll. I’ll take us both away forever! Out of reach of your parents, out of reach of my uncle, out of reach of everything except each other’s arms.”

      “Chris—”

      “Now or never, Terry.”

      “Oh, God—”

      “Say yes!”

      “Yes!” I shoved him away and tried to catch my breath. I sat up and closed my legs. “Yes. Okay?”

      He stared at me, flush-faced and panting. “You mean it?”

      “I mean it.” I was breathing hard. “Do you mean it?”

      “Yes.”

      “What about Lor—”

      “Screw her. Screw everyone except us! I can’t live without you, Terry. I don’t want to live without you. God, I love you so much I’m in pain. Baby, tell me you love me.”

      “I love you.” I took a deep breath. “I love you, love you, love you. Help me down.”

      He put his arms around my waist and swung me from the car. I attempted to tidy my appearance. I tugged on my skirt, smoothed out my hair, and redid my lipstick. He came toward me, but I