I started the story out with a T rating, but after this chapter it'll probably be changed to M. Some smut ahead - though sadly not with David :(

Sam seethed, his eyes glancing angrily around the boardwalk. He'd walked away for five minutes - just five minutes - in search of a funnel cake for dessert and Taylor, who promised to wait by the carousel, had disappeared. He wondered if she'd gone off in search of Mom and Max's video store, or if maybe she'd caught sight of Michael and the boys and decided to go with them. At this point, Michael and the Lost Boys might've been the lesser of two evils.

He shuddered, not quite believing he was saying that about his own mother, and set off along the boardwalk, purposely avoiding the comic book shop he used to frequent. Max had eyes everywhere, he'd learned that very quickly.

Taylor stared up at the board, decorated with so many unfamiliar names and faces.

She'd started off by the carousel, waiting for Sam, but she'd seen him begin to chat with the girl serving him his funnel cake, and decided to give him some time to himself. Two months was long enough for Lucy to fall in love and remarry, but apparently not long enough for her youngest son to make some new friends. She thought about seeking out the video store and her mother, but decided to wait until Lucy came around to see her. Taylor hadn't spotted Michael anywhere either, but what she did see was the Santa Carla Missing Persons board.

There had to be at least thirty people on there, maybe more, and some of the posters were old enough to have had their edges peeled back by the breeze coming off the sea. When one looked faded enough, a new one would cover it up partially. Taylor had only been there five minutes, maybe less, but she'd seen enough to know that no two people were on there twice.

She'd been to beach towns before, ones with boardwalks like this, on vacations with her parents, and then with her friends as she got older. She knew these places were havens for runaways and grifters and awful people - but she'd never seen this before, never been able to scan the faces of so many victims all at once.

"What's caught your eye, beautiful?"

The owner of the voice had snuck up on her, more than David and Laddie had earlier, but it didn't invoke the same feral sense of fear and excitement. This time, she didn't even jump.

"This board," She gave him the obvious answer. "There's just so many people."

"Yeah," He scoffed stupidly. "Didn't you see the sign on the way into town? Santa Carla - murder capital of the world!"

"I must've missed that," Taylor was growing annoyed, until she turned to look at him.

The man beside her was a little older than her - just the way she liked them - and must've been in his mid- to late-twenties. He was conventionally attractive, with a soft golden tan and a mullet of blonde curls. He wore swim trunks with no shirt, despite the chill of the nighttime air, and his abs were perfectly sculpted.

Taylor's demeanor visibly changed - this man was no longer a nuisance, but a welcome distraction from her strange, absent family.

"Did your friends send you over here?" She said, a small, flirtatious smile on her face as she nodded towards a group of guys blatantly watching them, their looks and dress similar to the one standing in front of her.

"Kind of," He admitted. "I might've let it slip that I thought you were cute."

"If you hadn't snuck up on me," She came closer to him, pausing when they were just a few inches apart. "I probably would've thought you were cute, too."

He grinned at her, revealing rows of perfectly straight teeth, only slightly stained by red wine and cigarettes.

"We're headed to the dunes for a party, maybe you want to come?"

She laughed, taking his hand and turning to face the rest of the group.

"Wait, what's your name?"

"John," He smiled at her. "And you are?"

"Shannon."

As they walked away from the boardwalk, toward a bright, glowing bonfire, Taylor learned that they were tourists. John and his group of five or six others were from a land-locked town in California, and they'd taken a few weeks to come up here and try out surfing. Most of his friends were over it after the first day, but John swore he was a natural.

Taylor knew he was lying - about all of it. After what happened with her parents, she had a sixth sense for this thing. John probably lived in town, had surfed his whole life, and was spinning a tale so that he wouldn't have to say that he wanted this to be just a one-night thing.

"John," Taylor laughed at him. "I think you've misread me."

"Look Shan, if this wasn't my last night here I'd totally take you out on a real date, but - "

"John," She grabbed his face, suddenly serious as she brought it closer to hers, connecting their lips in a feverish kiss. "I want the same thing you want. Nothing more."

A stupid grin graced his face, the same one that he'd worn earlier when she'd agree to come to the more isolated dunes with him. She pulled him away from the fire, away from his friends, silently, luring him behind a dune a few yards away. With no one around, she pushed him into the sand, laughing at the look of surprise on his face.

She climbed into his chest, her sinewy legs pinning him down with a strength he hadn't anticipated, but excited him. She peeled off her concert tee to reveal she was wearing nothing underneath, and grabbed one of his hands, placing it directly onto her tit.

John moaned.

"It's actually Ken, by the way." He said gently, wondering if this would be the last straw, if this would make her leave him with blue balls.

"Taylor," She smiled, pulling down his surf shorts and grinning hungrily at how hard he was already. "Nice to meet you."