by Cerys du Lys
We could get killed. Spike looked at me over his raised arms, his face was humorless, for once.
“Don’t be a fucking moron, Cain.”
I winced at the insult, but Cain looked amused.
“What happened to your sense of adventure?” He turned back towards the cops. “I’m the Vice President of the Dragons. We have every fucking precinct in our pockets so why don’t you call your commanding officer and get the fuck out of my face.”
“DROP YOUR FUCKING WEAPON!”
The gun clattered loudly to the pavement as he dropped the gun, all the levity gone from his face. His lip curled and I felt a stab of anxiety. None of them knew how dangerous it was to humiliate him. His chest and shoulders were already bright red from the sun and it gave the impression that his rage was burning him from the inside out. He took a step forward.
“Stand back! Don’t move!”
“You think you’re fucking safe behind those sheets of metal you’re hiding behind? I told you, I’m the Vice-President—”
“And I could give a fuck! Hands behind your head!”
His eyes widened as if he could hardly believe what he as seeing.
Maybe I should say something.
Suddenly, he aimed a violent kick to the man still kneeling in front of him. He screamed and doubled over. Spike leapt forward and shoved Cain’s chest.
“What the fuck are you doing? Have you completely lost it?”
Cain looked down at the hands that still pushed against his chest. “I’m doing what I want.”
I didn’t like the challenging look he gave Spike. “Cain, please. Spike is your brother. You wouldn’t be doing any of this if you weren’t—”
His eyes flashed at me and I bit my tongue. The cops slowly stood upright, one of them unhooking a pair of handcuffs from his waist.
If you weren’t high.
“Hands behind your head, or I’ll use the Taser!”
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
The venom trembling from his voice made one of the cops pause. Spike backed away as they reached for his arms and yanked them behind his back. His tattoos stretched across his chest as his arms were pulled back, his eyes smoldering at me as if it was my fault.
The two idiots read him his Miranda rights as they led him into the police cruiser and Spike turned to me with a horrified look on his face.
“Did that just happen?”
* * *
My head pounded with the stifling heat inside my car and the drugs I took before made it worse. Anxiety shot into my veins, feeding my paranoia as my eyes swept across the streets. I felt like I was locked in the darkness, drifting out of my body. I watched my red convertible roar through the crumbling streets, heading automatically for Cain’s apartment. Spike followed me home. I watched his bike trail behind my car, desperately hoping that he would have a solution for what just happened. Cain was being charged with attempted murder and resisting arrest.
He wouldn’t stay in jail. The charges would eventually be dropped, abandoned by the D.A. office once they realized just who he was.
It only mattered because he would take it out on me.
I wiped my hand across my dripping nose. I need coke now. But Cain hid the stash in the apartment. He lorded it over me like a fucking bastard, getting me to do whatever he wanted. Now he was gone.
I slammed the door with a little more effort than necessary and walked up the stone steps. The door swung inside as I unlocked it and pushed. Spike’s heavy footsteps jogged up the stairs and he joined me in the living room, where I sank down in one of the leather couches in defeat. It was too quiet.
He removed his jacket and hung it in the exact same spot that Cain hung his jacket and suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my chest. If only Spike could take his place.
“I can’t believe that just happened.” Spike sauntered into the living room and collapsed next to me.
I felt the weight of his body sink into the couch and I wished he sat closer to me.
“Ever since he’s been on Red, he’s lost his edge.” My heart jumped at the thought of what Cain would do if he heard me say that. “Don’t tell him that.”
Spike shook his curly head. I looked at his strong jawline, his Adam’s apple protruding from his neck, the sprinkling of dark hair peeking underneath his shirt. My mouth was dry. For so long I had rebelled against my attraction to him, burying it all in my mind when Cain suffocated me with his presence. It had to stay buried, but he was gone.
I might be free.
I considered that for a moment until I realized that I was wrong. He would get out eventually, and when he did, he would expect me to be his. If I moved on to another man, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.
“Hey, don’t be upset. I’m sure they’ll toss out the case.”
I swiped my hair from my face and chuckled. Spike mistook my sadness for grief over Cain’s arrest. “I don’t want him to come back.”
The air stilled as I made my confession. I’m still in his apartment.
I jumped a little and looked around, half-convinced I would see his ghost nearby. What if he hid recording equipment? I stiffened and balled my fists, horrified that I hadn’t thought of that before I spoke freely.
Then Spike’s raspy voice cut through the frozen air.
“Julia, I backed off because I thought things were better between you two,” he said it almost desperately.
When I met his worried gaze, I could see that I confirmed his suspicion. His face fell into his hands and he raked his fingers through his hair.
I thought of the white, glistening powder and I sniffed hard. “Do you have any blow?”
He turned his head slowly and I was embarrassed by the bewildered look on his face.
“Jesus Christ, Julia. No.” His voice took a stern note. “Both you and Cain have been off the rails lately. You’ve been making stupid, sloppy mistakes.”
“Have I?” My heated tone didn’t wipe the judgment from his face. I wanted to hit him. The fucking idiot had no idea what I went through every day.
Maybe I should tell him about yesterday—show him the new bruises on my back.
Coke numbed the pain and made me forget for a little while how fucked up everything was.
Things were better with Ace.
“Julia?”
Tears steadily pooled in my eyes. I hated crying. Crying was for weak women, for those who couldn’t hide their emotions. I turned everything off for so long, that the softness in his voice made me sob into my hands. I wiped away the tears with angry swipes of my thumbs.
Look at where you were a few months ago…and look where you are now.
“He took everything from me. I don’t even have my sobriety, anymore. And I’m stuck with him forever, even though I can’t stand him.” The last sentence ended in a high gasp.
The leather squeaked as Spike stood up. For a moment, I thought he was leaving. I was so used to Cain ignoring my moods that I forgot what a real man was like. He moved closer to me, invading my personal space.
My heart hammered as his heavy arm dropped over my shoulders. I curled into his body and choked as I suddenly found myself nestled in Spike’s incredibly warm embrace. His arm reached up my back and he brushed the back of my head, and I suddenly remembered how my grandmother used to hold me like this before she died. I clung to his shoulders as this incredible feeling filled me up like a hot, home-cooked meal.
I starved for months and Spike gave me what I needed. He was so warm in every way. He held me without hesitation, like he always longed to do it. I was sick with happiness and I cried into his broad chest, wishing I could have this every day.
“We’ll think of something, Julia. I promise.” His voice was full of somber confidence.
I raised my tear-stained face from his chest and looked at deep dimples curving into his face, his smile making him even more attractive. My arms were around his neck and I lifted my fingers slightly to stroke his dark hair, marveling at its soft
ness. His face became pink and my heart thudded. The embrace had been comforting, and now it made an abrupt turn into desire. It was like the flip of a light switch—I became hyperaware of his thighs under me and the heat between our bodies and how close his face was to mine.
He seemed to realize it, too. Spike’s hands were damp.
I wanted him to kiss me. My face flushed at the thought, but it was exciting and I wanted it all the same.
It’s better that we don’t.
My hands slid from around his neck and I lowered my eyes away from tenderness in his gaze. He wanted me, too.
Spike suddenly checked his watch and gave a defeated sigh.
“What is it?”
“Had a date tonight. I’m going to call and cancel. I need to tell Crash, anyway. He’s going to be pissed.”
I made an irritated face at the mention of a date. It was always hell to watch him flirt with other girls in the pool hall. I watched him leave with them, his arm wrapped around their waists while fervently wishing that I were in their place.
“I need to go, I’m sorry.”
Don’t go, I begged him silently. His face was drawn in as I stood up.
I followed him into the foyer. He laboriously retrieved his jacket and pulled it back on, giving me a pained look. “I’m sorry that I have to leave you like this, but Crash has got to know about Cain. Duty first.”
I nodded miserably, crashing after the high. He regarded me for a moment with a pained smile and took a few steps forward and bent his head next to my face, leaving a small kiss on my cheek. His scent wrapped around me, dizzying me before he pulled back.
“I’ll be around, Julia. I promise.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded as he opened the door and disappeared behind it, leaving me alone in the cold apartment.
* * *
The tissue I held against my nose was already soaked. Spike was coming to pick me up in a couple minutes to take me to visit Cain in jail. I sat a chair in the kitchen, which was in quiet disarray. Over the last few days I didn’t bother cleaning or cooking anything. I spent every waking moment tearing apart the home, looking for his hidden stash.
I blew my nose and wrapped my arms around myself, shaking horribly. God, it felt like the worst flu I ever had. I picked up the phone and dialed Spike.
“Yo.”
“Spike, it’s me.”
His tone softened immediately. “Hey Julia, how’s it—are you crying?”
“No, I’m sick. I really need your help.” I twisted the napkin in my hand. “I need some blow.”
“Straight to the point, eh? No ‘Hi, how are you?’ or any of that bullshit that would make someone think you actually care. I’m a little disappointed in you as a hustler. Aren’t you supposed to soften them up before you go in for the kill?”
He was so annoying I wanted to scream. “Fuck, Spike—”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“Spike, please. I never ask you for anything. Just one—I just need one bump—”
“No.”
“Just a taste!”
“No.”
Then I started to cry. It was the only thing that made me happy, the only thing I really needed. He hadn’t hung up yet; I could still hear the static on the phone. “I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“I’m doing this because I care about you, Julia. Don’t even think about going to the club and asking for dope. I already warned everyone not to give you any.”
I slammed my fist on the kitchen table. “Fuck you, Spike. I can’t stand you.”
“I love you, too,” he quipped.
The phone flew across the room as I hurled it. It smacked into the kitchen cabinets and cracked on the floor.
Fuck it. A couple days and it’ll be over.
I cried when Spike said that Crash forbade anyone to bail him out of jail. This meant that my access to coke would be cut off.
A couple days ago, you hated him. Fucking junkie.
There were moments of clarity when I almost managed to push my cravings into the background. I rubbed my skin and felt ill at the thought of visiting Cain.
The doorbell rang and I slowly limped across the linoleum kitchen to answer the front door. Spike stood in the sunshine, looking cheerful as always. His smile fell when he looked at my face.
“Ah, shit.”
His heavy boots stepped inside as I shivered violently. It was an effort just to keep standing. He pulled me against his chest and my heart constricted painfully.
“It’ll be over soon. You’re already through the worst of it. I should have been here to help you.”
Anger throbbed in my chest. I still hadn’t forgotten about the phone call. “I’m fine.”
His chest shook with laughter. “Yeah, judging from the state of this place, you’re fine, all right.”
I ripped myself out of his embrace and glowered at his dancing, brown eyes. “Let’s just go.”
The playful smirk was back on his face as he opened the door for me. Each step down jarred my bones and I clenched my teeth. “What did Crash say when you told him about Cain? Was he pissed?”
“‘Pissed’ doesn’t really do it justice. The man was like a raging bull. He wants to remove Cain from VP.”
My hand tightened on the metal railing. “He can’t do that.”
“No, he can’t, but he really wants to. That’s why he’s letting him stew in jail for a few weeks. Once the precinct wised up to who they were dealing with, they contacted Crash and told him they were going to release Cain. Instead, Crash told them to keep him there without charging him.”
“For how long?” I gasped.
“Three weeks.”
I whirled around. Spike’s head blotted out the sun, casting him in darkness. I couldn’t see his face. “It’s just going to make him worse. When he comes back—”
“Maybe not. Maybe he’ll cool down and get the drugs out of his system.”
All of it seemed too hopeful. I swallowed hard as I walked to Spike’s bike, more anxious than ever about meeting him.
When he comes back, he’ll take it out on me.
Spike seemed completely unaware of my panic. He slid onto his Harley and I climbed up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. His abdominal muscles tensed under my fingers as he throttled forward.
The bike drowned out all further discussion and I was just content to have my arms around him, enjoying the ride. I forgot how wonderful it was to bike through the scenic highways. Brown valleys where horses grazed surrounded the road as we headed north, towards Martinez. The rolling valleys disappeared and transformed into ugly, industrial factories that belched grey smoke into the clear blue sky.
We rode into the parking lot of an ugly, grey compound that was Martinez County Jail. I slid off the bike and unhooked my helmet.
“Fuck, I’m not looking forward to this.” Spike smoked a quick cigarette before we went inside, his normally carefree eyes troubled.
It was a half hour of waiting and going through security before we were allowed to see Cain. My nerves were shot. Spike held open the door to a common area where men in orange jumpsuits sat around round tables.
They looked up briefly when I entered the room and I shivered as I felt their predatory eyes stripping me down, but the one who made me the most uncomfortable was a blonde man in the back of the room. His lip curled into a threatening leer.
“There he is,” I said, pointing.
He can’t hurt you in here, I reminded myself.
“He’s seen better days,” Spike uttered as he made a beeline for him.
As we approached Cain, who was dressed in the same tattered orange jumpsuit, the extent of his mental disarray became more and more apparent. His eyes roved restlessly and he licked his lips compulsively. He stood up when I got close, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“Julia.”
I barely had time to offer him a weak smile before he pulled me into a fierce hug. I stif
fened inside his arms, looking at Spike desperately. He pulled back and gave me a small smile. His eyes were clear, but they were restless. Before I could think, his mouth descended upon mine and I just couldn’t kiss him back. He pulled back, still holding me, and frowned.
“What’s wrong?” His nails bit into my flesh.
“You’re in fucking jail.” I pulled away from him and sat down across from him. Then I buried my face in my hands as if I was upset. Inwardly, I danced with glee at the thought of him being locked away forever.
Cain said a gruff greeting to Spike and gave him a one-armed hug before both sat down.
“Good job on pissing off your old lady.” Spike’s sardonic voice snapped suddenly.
I glanced up over my hands and saw Spike lounging on the chair, his arm stretched on the table as he glared at his brother. Cain gave a little shrug.
“She’s just pissed that she doesn’t have access to my stash.”
A small tear slipped down my face as I feigned hurt outrage. “That’s not true.”
He sneered at me and I loathed him for seeing through me so easily.
“Why haven’t I been bailed out already?”
“Crash doesn’t want anyone to bail you out. He’s putting you on time-out for a few weeks.”
I snatched my hands away as Cain slammed his fist on the round table. It was such a violent outburst, completely out of character for him. One of the guards screamed.
“Do it again, and I’ll kick them out!”
He showed no sign that he heard the guard’s command. Pale eyes shifted from Spike to me, trembling with absolute fury. I couldn’t bear to look at him. He would see the treachery in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, man, but I can’t do anything about it.”
“You could,” he said in a deadly whisper, “but you don’t have the balls.”
“Fuck off, man. I’m a new member, remember? No real power. If you had only listened to them, you wouldn’t be here! I’m not going to go against the President, Cain. Jesus.”
I reached across the table and took Cain’s hand, who looked at me with only slightly less rage. “You need to stop fighting. Spike’s doing everything he can.”
A small flicker of the old Cain became visible for a second. His mouth relaxed as his eyes regarded me steadily and he even squeezed my hand.
