The Missing

when Leon was having one of his outbursts, yelling at Taige and calling her devil spawn. Cullen had punched Leon, knocking the older man into the wall and then grabbing him and slamming him back so hard that the back of Leon’s head knocked a hole in the drywall. “I hear you talking to her like that again, and I’ll make you damn sorry,” Cullen had shouted while Taige bodily separated them.

    “She’s seduced you. The devil’s harlot. You’ll burn in hell with her if you don’t repent! God will see to it—He will pass His judgment over you, and you will burn in hell.”

    Cullen had sneered at Leon and said, “If God is going to send anybody straight to hell, it’s going to be you.”

    Then he had taken Taige’s hand and led her out of the house, to his car, but instead of climbing inside, he had leaned against it and pulled her against him.

    Taige had already had a bad feeling that she loved him, but after that night, she knew it was true. She’d fallen in love with some rich white boy from Atlanta—and she couldn’t have been happier about it.

    “You in there?” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder. Exhausted, she’d ended up falling asleep instead of fishing with Cullen and his dad. The sun’s rays were white hot, but the touch of his mouth on her made her burn even more.

    “Hmmm.” She lowered her head briefly, pressing her face against his neck. His arm came up and curved around her shoulder, and Taige sighed, relaxing into the hard length of his body.

    “You want to tell me about it?” he asked softly.

    She slid his dad a nervous look, but the older man was standing out hip-deep in the waves, too far to hear them or really even see them. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant when she finally replied, “There’s not much to tell. I didn’t see much. Just a girl’s face. She’s lost. Or she will be.” It would be so much easier to deal with her bizarre ability if it operated with any kind of sense. Sometimes she saw what had already happened. Sometimes things as they happened, and then sometimes, days, months, or weeks before it happened. Not always in time to change things and not always in time to help.

    “Is she okay?” Cullen’s hand was warm on her neck, and he rubbed the tight muscles there. He did that a lot, sometimes without even realizing that he did it, Taige thought. He liked to touch her, and it wasn’t always just because he was trying to cop a feel. Although Taige had no problems when he was doing that, none at all. Unlike the guys who had tried to get her in a similar situation, she liked it when Cullen touched her. She liked it a lot. His touch did something strange to her deep inside. Logically, she knew what it was. He turned her on, but that in and of itself was odd for her. He was the only guy who could touch her and not make her want to cringe away. He was—restful. As lame as that sounded, it was the only way she could describe it. Even when he was kissing her, touching her through her clothes, or when she was touching him, even when she was so damned hot from all those touches that she couldn’t stand it, it was restful.

    It never came with the bad vibes or whatever worries and thoughts he had going on inside. When he touched her, she didn’t have to worry she was going to pick up some random emotion or a memory flash, and that let her relax and just enjoy it. She leaned into his hands and tried to pull something else out of that short blip of a dream. Something besides the girl’s face, but there was nothing. “I don’t know, Cullen.”

    “Isn’t it usually clearer than this?”

    She gave him a wry glance. “Not always. Doesn’t come with an owner’s manual or a remote where I can rewind and watch through it again.” She pulled away from him, hoping that maybe if she wasn’t touching him, her brain might function a little better.

    He was quiet for a minute. He slid a hand down her arm and linked her fingers with his. “Are you going to be able to help?”

    Taige shook her head. “I don’t know. If I’m supposed to help . . .” Her voice trailed off. It was hard to explain, and Cullen was the first person she’d ever attempted to explain it to. The first person she’d ever cared enough about to try to explain it so he could understand. But she didn’t really have the words to explain that she would just know. She’d be walking to the restaurant to help Rose and Dante, or she’d be swimming or riding her bike