Blue Steele Box Sets 2

by Remington Kane

  The driver’s side door was bent the opposite way as it struck one of the concrete posts that protect the pumps. At the same time, a rear tire rode up and over a corner of the fuel island. The impact jarred me. I lost my balance and tumbled from the truck and onto the ground.

  I then watched in horror as my truck went rolling into the roadway while scattering cars. It disappeared from sight as it went down the hill backwards.

  I whispered, “Oh no,” and a moment later heard the sound of a tremendous crash. I closed my eyes and prayed that my runaway truck hadn’t harmed anyone. There had been no sounding of horns from the bottom of the hill, and so I had hope.

  When I swiveled my head, I saw that George had run alongside the Hummer and managed to grab the keys from the ignition, causing the engine to die.

  But when George pulled his hand back, Ward grabbed his wrist and broke it with a savage twist of his muscular arm.

  George howled in pain and dropped the keys. They made a clinking sound as they hit the concrete and Ward got out of the truck to retrieve them.

  As I made it back to my feet, Randy took aim at Ward.

  “Hands above your head, now!”

  I ran toward him while screaming, “No Randy, you might hit the gas pumps!”

  I don’t know if Randy heard me say it, but everyone else seemed to; there was a stampede of panicked drivers away from the pumps.

  Ward bent over and I thought that he was retrieving his lost keys, but when he stood, he was holding George chest high. A moment later, he tossed George over the truck and straight at Randy.

  I heard the distinct sound of bones breaking as the two men impacted and only hoped that it wasn’t their skulls that had fractured. When I reached them, I saw that Randy’s jaw was sitting askew and that George had a broken ankle to go with his wrist. Both of them were out cold, and Randy’s gun had skittered away to only God knew where.

  My own gun was still in my poor truck. I had it sitting handy beside me on the seat when I drove in, but had no chance to grab it before I had tumbled out from behind the wheel. If George had a gun, it wasn’t in sight, and I saw no sign of a holster.

  That’s when the laughter began, as Ward’s deep baritone mirth seemed to mock me while expressing joy at my friend’s injuries.

  The sound of it just plain pissed me off.

  He stood at the rear of his vehicle staring at George and Randy with a look of pleasure. I called to him just as he turned to climb back into his Hummer.

  “Hey! You’ve got one more here to deal with, you overgrown piece of shit.”

  Ward spun back around and looked me over as if I were mad.

  “I’m calling you out, Ward. Are you going to fight or run?”

  “Lady, I could break you in two.”

  He was right and I knew he was right, but the only alternative was to back down, and goddamn it but my daddy did not raise me to back down.

  I sprinted toward him, leapt into the air, and brought the heel of my boot down hard on his left knee.

  Randy had said something about the monster-sized man having a bad knee but hadn’t mentioned which one. If I had attacked the bad knee, then he should be affected by my kick, if not, he might be merely enraged and follow through on his threat to break me in half.

  It was the correct knee I’d attacked, the bad one. Ward’s scream of agony echoed across the lot as he fell to the ground on the other knee. With him down on one knee, we were eye to eye. I pulled back my fist and struck him as hard as I could on his Adam’s apple.

  That caused him to fall back onto his ass and grab at his throat with both hands. As he sat like that, I kicked him again, and this time my boot found his testicles.

  His right hand flew out and gripped my left. I watched my hand be swallowed within his meaty paw right up to the wrist. Next, I could feel the bones of my fingers grinding together. The pain was enough to make me scream.

  A final kick to the throat removed all fight from him though, and he thrashed about on the ground, apparently unable to breathe.

  I fell back against the Hummer, wincing at the intense pain in my hand, as the nearby howls of police sirens reached my ears.

  “Hey lady?”

  I turned my head and saw a teenage girl filming with her cell phone.

  “Holy shit but that was awesome and I got the whole thing here on my phone.”

  I looked at Ward and saw that he had stopped moving, as drool fell from his open mouth.

  When I walked back over to stare down at George and Randy, I was relieved to see that they were both breathing. Other than Randy’s broken jaw, there appeared to be no serious injury to their heads.

  I then sat down beside them as I waited for the ambulance to arrive, and wiped away the tears as they fell.

  Chapter 7

  The rest of that day was a jumble of police reports and time spent in a hospital. There were also the continual efforts to avoid the media. Reporters went wild once the cell phone video of my takedown of the much larger Dirk Ward posted to the internet.

  Ward was placed on a ventilator, but was expected to live. Although, his true condition was yet to be known until he woke up. His brain had been starved of oxygen until a paramedic performed an emergency tracheotomy on him right there in the gas station parking lot.

  Randy had suffered a concussion to go along with his broken jaw, while George had a broken wrist and ankle. My left hand was mangled by Ward’s grip, but appeared to have no broken bones, still, as a precaution, the emergency room doc placed it in a cast for two weeks. During that time, any micro cracks would heal properly.

  Ramón joined me in the hospital as they were applying the cast. I was happy to see that he was worried about me, but not freaked out by what had happened. It was one of the things I loved most about him. Ramón knew I would sometimes face dangerous situations and trusted me to come out on top. Other than my father, no one has ever had such faith in my abilities.

  Both Ramón and I had planned to spend the night at my place. However, when we arrived, we saw that there were two news vans parked in front of the apartment house, and so we went back to his home. After a quick shower, I stumbled into bed and fell asleep with Ramón holding me.

  I awoke the next morning in a bed that more and more I was coming to think of as my own.

  When I went downstairs, I found Ramón drinking coffee in front of the TV. On the screen, an angry woman was yelling at a man three times her size to stay and fight her.

  The woman was me. I wondered if my mama had seen this yet and thought me insane. Then again, she always did say that I had inherited the Steele family grit. It was the same fortitude and pluck that flowed through the veins of our famous cousins, the Calibers.

  Ramón pointed at the screen. “I must have watched this a dozen times and I’m still amazed at how good you were. That big bastard never had a chance. By taking the fight to him, you gained the advantage of the element of surprise; that’s a huge weapon in any battle.”

  I sat beside him on the sofa and poured a cup of coffee from a carafe.

  “Things might have ended differently if I hadn’t gotten lucky and struck his bad knee. That blow would have hurt him anyway, but it might not have incapacitated him long enough for me to hit him in the throat.”

  Ramón kissed me. “It’s not the fact that you won that makes me so proud of you, it’s the fact that you fought.”

  I kissed him back, and when I looked at the television again, there were side-by-side photos of my father and me. The fact that we were both named Blue Steele seemed to fascinate the show’s hosts.

  “Yeah,” Ramón said. “The name Blue Steele was already in the news because of your father, but now the video of you has highlighted it even more. They also mentioned that you’re related to Jake Caliber.”

  “Jake is coming in for the funeral, as soon as they release Daddy’s body.”

  Ramón smiled. “I look forward to meeting him in person, the man is a living legend.” After saying that,
I saw Ramón’s face darken.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They delivered your truck while you were asleep; it’s out front.”

  “You think I’m crazy to want to get it fixed, don’t you?”

  “Baby, if it were a lame horse it would be too far gone to even bother shooting.”

  I was dressed in one of his T-shirts, but his robe was lying on a chair. I grabbed it and put it on to go outside.

  The day was partly cloudy and seemed to fit my mood, but one look at my truck and the day darkened to midnight.

  Ramón was right; my pickup was totaled.

  After rolling down the hill yesterday, it had slammed backwards into the concrete abutment of a train overpass. It had hit with such force that the rear axle bent in half. The recoil from the impact then sent the truck wobbling forward, where it drifted to the right, rolled down yet another steep hill, while crashing into small trees along the way. It finally settled atop a clump of dry weeds. The heat from the engine set the weeds on fire, a fire that consumed the interior of my truck. If it weren’t for the familiarity of the alphanumeric combination of the charred license plate, I’m not sure I would have even recognized it as my own.

  When the tears began I hardly noticed, but then the floodgates opened and soon I was weeping so hard that I could barely breathe. Ramón guided me into the house and cooed soothing words as we lay together on the sofa.

  When the tears were finally spent, Ramón gazed into my eyes.

  “What’s going on, baby? I know you loved that truck, but those were tears of true mourning.”

  “Those tears were for my father. All the years when we didn’t know what had happened to him, and even after he was declared dead, there was still hope, you know? I had hope that he could still be alive somehow, then, when his body was found, that hope finally died.”

  I could tell by Ramón’s expression that he now understood.

  “He was gone, but you still had the truck he had given you, and that truck was like a daily reminder of his love, no?”

  “Exactly, and now even that has been taken away.”

  Ramón sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you, and it means so much to me that you understand.”

  I dried my eyes and the two of us sat up and stared at the muted TV. A commercial was playing. On screen, a couple appeared to be ecstatic about the brand of toilet paper they were buying.

  I took Ramón’s hand in my one good hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “I know that you said he died when you were still very young, but did your father ever give you anything?”

  “He made a point of giving me something every day.”

  I turned my head and stared at him.

  “What did he give you?”

  Ramón gazed back at me.

  “A beating, he gave me daily beatings, and I’ve no doubt that he got as much pleasure from dishing them out as your father received when he gifted you that truck.”

  “Jesus! Ramón, how did you survive that childhood?”

  “I took life day by day, that is, until I met Walter and learned that there was more to living than survival.”

  “And now?”

  He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “Now all I want is a future, and I want that future with you.”

  I stood, pulling him along, and we went upstairs and into the bedroom.

  Chapter 8

  Thankfully, the reporters were gone from the front of my building when I returned home that afternoon. Apparently, some new tragedy had lured them away.

  A little while later, I knocked on the apartment manager’s door and informed her that I would not be seeking to rent one of the new units. She told me that everyone else said the same thing.

  Big surprise, if we could afford high-price apartments we would already be living in one.

  My laptop was totaled in the fire that consumed my truck and so I was reduced to surfing the web on my phone. That’s not the easiest thing to do when you’ve got one hand wrapped up in a cast.

  While browsing for a new place to live, I soon discovered that vacant apartments were not hard to find, but they weren’t giving them away either.

  I made calls to a couple of places, and the apartment manager of a building on Saint Juliet Street said he could show me around if I wanted to come take a look.

  I grabbed my purse, which thankfully had fallen out of the truck before the fire could consume it, and went out to get in my rental.

  It was a car because they were out of trucks to rent. It felt odd to be driving so low to the ground. Along with a new apartment, I would need to find a new truck. I wiped away a tear, put the car in drive, and went to find a place to live.

  The apartment was very nice and the building was much newer than where I was living now. The kitchen had a built-in dishwasher, something I have never had, and enjoyed using whenever I stayed at Ramón’s house.

  I actually liked the place a great deal. The only thing that made me hesitate to move ahead with it was the fact that it was the first place I had looked at. Maybe there was something better out there.

  The manager saw my hesitation and wisely left me alone to make a decision. I walked the small apartment once more, while opening closets and cabinets, then I stood in the middle of it and thought about the implications of renting a new apartment.

  It was a one-year lease, with the option to sign for another year at its end. I thought of Ramón. If I took the apartment it would hurt his feelings, something I truly did not want to do.

  I actually wanted to live with him, but the lack of a commitment, such as marriage, made the whole thing seem as transitory as a one-year lease.

  Was Becca right? Was Ramón only asking me to move in because he feared that if he asked for more it would drive me away?

  I didn’t know if that were true or not, but I do know that if he had asked me I would have given it serious consideration. I loved him so much and it hurt each time we parted. If I moved in with him, perhaps we could take things to the next step, given time, and maybe someday even start a family.

  In the end, I thanked the apartment manager for his time and said that I would think about it. He warned me that the “Units were going fast” and that I should get back to him soon.

  When I went back outside, I found myself disoriented when I didn’t see my truck, then I remembered with a crestfallen heart what had happened to it, and I headed toward my crappy rental car.

  As I opened the door to climb in, I heard my name called, and it was being uttered by a very familiar voice. He walked up to me, smiling wide, and I greeted him with a grin of my own.

  “Hello Gary.”

  Chapter 9

  As Gary sat across from me in a coffee shop, I studied his face and thought that there was a quality of seriousness about him that wasn’t there before.

  We had only broken up a few months earlier, but in my heart and mind it felt much longer, still, I held great affection for him.

  I pointed to the ring on his finger.

  “Who’s the lucky lady?”

  Gary looked down at the ring and touched it.

  “After you and I broke up, I got back together with Janelle.”

  “I see, and how is married life?”

  “It was actually good this time.”

  “Was?”

  Gary nodded, and after taking a deep breath, he spoke in a choked voice.

  “Janelle is dead, Blue. She died along with two other people in an accident, a faulty elevator.”

  I reached across and took his hand.

  “Oh my God, Gary, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you, you know, we had only been married a few weeks, but I could tell that this time we would make it. We had matured in the years we were apart, and it made all the difference.”

  “I’m glad that you were happy together; it’s so unfair that you lost her.”

  His head shot up and he stared at me.

  “Oh, sp
eaking of loss, I see they found your father. I’m so sorry that it took so long for you to learn the truth. At least now you and your family can stop wondering what happened.”

  “Yes, that’s the one bright spot.”

  He smiled, and I was reminded of how much I liked his smile and of the way it used to make my heart flutter. There was no flutter this time, and I wondered what relational alchemy had made it come and go.

  “I’ve been seeing you on the news all day. You really showed Dirk Ward who was boss.”

  I sighed. “Is this where you tell me that I risk my life too easily?”

  We were still holding hands loosely, but Gary gripped mine tighter, as he pulled me toward him slightly.

  “You’ll never hear those words from me again. Look what happened to Janelle, she was killed on her way to a business meeting because of a freak accident. You do whatever makes you happy, Blue, and live life your way, do you hear me?”

  I simply nodded, as his intensity left me too startled to speak.

  He noticed my expression and released my hand while leaning back.

  “I’m sorry; I just felt that was something I needed to say to you.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  We sipped at our coffee for a few moments before he spoke again.

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Good, you deserve to be happy.”

  We talked for a little while longer, but Gary had an appointment with a client that he had to make, and so we rose from our seats and went outside.

  When we parted, we gave each other a clumsy kiss on the cheek and then went our separate ways.

  Seeing Gary again was bittersweet and I felt sympathy for his loss. I barely knew Janelle, and at the time I knew her, we were rivals of sorts and shared feelings of animosity toward each other. She had been lively and vibrant, and now she was dead.

  It made me realize how important each day is, and again I thought about the life plan I had been working at for years. Maybe it was time I planned less and lived more.