by Vivian Lux
Case scraped a camp chair across the floor and flopped heavily into it. Mac raised his head at him. The older man only spoke in the direst circumstances, forcing the rest of the guys to guess his meaning most of the time.
"Why yes, I would love a beer, thank you MacDougal," Case guessed.
Mac nodded and headed over to the small kitchenette with the bursting refrigerator.
"We got enough?" Case wondered.
"I made a beer run before it got too bad. Food too. Mostly beer."
"Good man," Case nodded.
Quick as lightning, he shot his hand in the air to catch the incoming beer can Mac had flung in his direction. Crash hooted in appreciation. "I couldn't do that. Too wasted already."
"How early did you start?"
"When the snow started falling. I fucking hate winter."
Case leaned back with a grunt and poured the beer down his throat. It was true. Winter sucked. Up until today, it had almost been warm enough to ride. But snow on the ground and motorcycles don't really mix. He was hoping they could fund a ride south with some of their new earnings. He missed the warm wind blasting his face as he screamed down the highway with nothing between him and the road but skill.
"Fuck you winter!" he called, raising his beer in the direction of the roll top garage doors. Crash raised his beer in solidarity and together they drained them dry.
The beer did nothing to calm the jittery antsiness he was feeling. He knew why. The date on the nudie girl calendar on the wall was screaming it in his face. Hunter's birthday was tomorrow.
He would be sixteen. Holy fuck. His little brother was old enough to start driving now. Case's heart squeezed tightly in his chest. With nowhere else to direct his anger, he crushed the beer can in his fist and threw it across the garage as hard as he could.
Crash looked at him mildly. "Want another one?" he asked. "I'll get it."
Case nodded without looking up. Sixteen years old. He tried not to think about where his brothers were now. All he could hope was that Hunter had ended up with someone who would love him enough to teach him how to drive. Properly. Maybe his foster father was a weekend warrior who could teach him about bikes and the love of riding. Or maybe he had been adopted by now.
His heart squeezed further. That was his best hope. Maybe Hunter and Jonah were together in a family with a father and a house with heat and actual floorboards. They would be happy in their new life, happy to forget the hell of their childhood. They wouldn't remember Case with love or fondness. They wouldn't know how much he had sacrificed to keep them safe.
Crash arrived at his arm with the beer, cracked it open and held it out silently. Case took it and sat back in his chair, staring at the high, domed ceiling.
"Winter fucking sucks," he repeated. He shot a look over to where J. and Emmy were now headed towards the bunkhouse. Case still wasn't used to seeing that kind of bliss on J.'s face. His best friend's whole demeanor had changed since he and Emmy had gotten together this past summer. He was glad for him, glad for them. They were good for each other, Emmy calming J. down, J. building Emmy up. It was how love should be.
Or so Case thought. He wasn't sure.
He thought he had been in love once, but that was a long long time ago. A different life.
"Case, you sober?"
Case looked over to the office door. Teach was leaning against the doorframe, his cell phone in hand. His waist length dreads swung freely across his chest. "Yeah Teach, what's up?" Case stood from his chair, testing his limbs. He was fine.
"Des called."
Case grunted at the name of the president of the Storm Riders MC chapter out of Richmond. The two clubs had rumbled when they first met, but now the Richmond chapter was sponsoring them in their prospective bid. Case felt it was an uneasy alliance and it bothered his instincts as Sergeant-At-Arms. "What did he want?" he asked tightly.
"There was supposed to be a groups of riders coming south outta Albany that were stopping by for a party."
"Yeah," Case had run background checks on everyone already. "We're all set."
"Well this fucking storm is even worse up there. They cancelled."
Case felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
"Seems like nothing is moving on the whole East Coast," Teach continued. "We're sittin' pretty until the storm blows through."
"Well that sucks," Crash called from his chair. "I was looking forward to getting wasted with those pricks."
"You're already wasted," Teach pointed out.
"Nah," Crash grinned. "Just happy."
"I'm not happy, that was a ton of fucking work, clearing those guys," Case kicked the concrete floor irritably.
"Act of God," Teach held up his hands. "Nothin' to be done about it."
"How long is the storm gonna last?"
"You think they fucking know? Every channel says something different."
"Goddamnit." Case looked at the wall calendar. He couldn't just sit here, drinking through an interminable blizzard while tomorrow's date stared him in the face. He needed to get out of here, keep moving, go do something.
"Pretty sure the city's gonna shut down in a minute," Teach continued. "Crash got supplies, we'll be fine."
"I wasn't gonna stay the night though," Crash called. "It's finals week up at Temple."
Teach rolled his eyes. "You end up in a ditch cause your fool ass can't stop chasing pussy even during a snowstorm, I ain't comin' to your funeral."
"Relax Teach," Crash stood up, and lifted his bad leg off the floor. "See? Sober as your Grandma. The girls'll need a break from their studying. I can't deny them their release."
"For fuck's sake," Teach muttered and heading back into the office.
Case looked at the wall calendar again, then over to the bunkhouse where the muffled sounds of lovemaking wafted over the plywood walls. "Crash, wait up!" he called, surprising both of them. "I'm coming with you."
Crash looked at him oddly and Case knew why. The two of them had never hung out outside of the club. It was always he and J., with Crash as the outsider. Case felt momentary guilt at what this must look like, but put it aside. He needed to move more than he needed to worry about hurt feelings.
"Sure man, whatever," Crash agreed, pulling a knit cap over his shorn head. The two men tromped through the parking lot towards a gleaming black hulk. Crash leapt deftly into the cab and came out with a snow-brush. Case looked in awe as a huge, high-end pickup emerged from underneath the humped snow.
"Damn man, that's a nice truck." He tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice. Forever the little kid looking in from outside as others enjoyed their nice things. "How do you afford that?"
Crash grinned at him as he chucked the snow-brush behind the driver's seat. "Plausible deniability, dude. Do you really want to know?"
Case burst out laughing. "Oh what the fuck, they'd RICO me anyway. Your sins are my sins, at least according to the Feds."
"Fell off the back of a truck," Crash grinned again. The throaty roar of the diesel engine drowned out any chance of reply. "So you need to get laid, huh?" Crash shouted over the engine. "Tired of banging your MILFs and looking for some sweet young pussy?"
Case tried to relax. "Something like that. Mostly I didn't want to be cooped up in the clubhouse all through the storm."
Crash looked out the windshield. "Seems to be easing for the moment. We picked a good time to move."
The ride up to where Crash had his apartment was fine as long as Case kept his eyes closed. Crash drove his truck like he was flogging it into submission, revving the engine unnecessarily and then jamming his good foot down on the brake. By the time they reached the back alley behind Crash's place, Case felt slightly nauseous.
As soon as they parked, Crash looked down at his phone. "Yep," was all he said. He spun himself around in his seat and dropped to the snowy ground. Case followed him, shoving his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the cold. He wasn't going to brood tonight, he promised himself.
Tonight he was going to have fun.
Chapter 10
Lexi
The wind rattled at my windows and I heard the screech of tires stuck in snow. It woke me from my uneasy dreams and I stared into the fuzzy darkness.
Once I saw Casey, it was like he had always been there. I wondered how I could have missed him in the fist place. Other than that my parents' exhortations had trained me to look away from the “bad” house.
I never saw anyone but him outside. I knew he couldn't possibly live alone, but it certainly seemed that way. He wandered the neighborhood at all hours, always moving slowly, always dragging his feet like he wanted to waste time.
Then one day two little boys appeared from out of nowhere. My mother was home on that day, giving me a break from my duties as little mommy and I was allowed to be a kid again. I was up a tree that bordered our backyard and the park. I loved to read up there, it felt cooler than the heat of the baked summer ground. I could see over all the rooftops of our neighborhood, but no one could see me through the branches.
The van looked completely out of place in our neighborhood of station wagons. It looked like one of those vans our church rented to take kids to camp. The first person out was a stern looking black woman. She was dressed severely, her hair scraped back from her face. I could see the oil glistening from all the way up in my perch. Even from far away I could see she looked pissed.
She waited in the front yard of the bad house, her arms crossed. Her foot tapped impatiently. I realized she was waiting for someone to come outside to meet her.
Fascinated, I crept forward on the branch. The limb swayed dangerously and I scrambled back to the safety of my strong bough. I bobbed my head, looking for a better vantage point. Swinging down I put my fingers directly in oozing sap. Now I had to be careful not to put my hands in my wild red hair, or else my mother would know I was up the tree again.
She opened the sliding van door and two tow-headed boys came tumbling out, all knobby knees and sharp elbows. I sat up in realization that their hair was the exact same shade of blond as Casey's.
Just then I heard a bang and Casey's blond head joined the cluster on the lawn. The three boys rolled and jumped and pummeled each other in such joyous celebration that I couldn't help but smile. I was reminded of when my friend Valerie's dog had puppies and how they would play. I had never seen Casey move with such enthusiasm. His normal dragging gait was gone as he whirled around them. His face was stretched into such a wide, joyous grin that I had to smile too.
I saw the severe woman put her hands on her hips. She must have asked him something important, because his face snapped to seriousness immediately. He nodded and bolted to the front door, moving faster than I ever thought possible. The severe woman grabbed both of the smaller boys hands and held them back from following.
The front door banged again and I saw Casey emerge, dragging a disheveled looking woman behind him. She wiped her hands on her too short shorts and then ran them through her wild blonde hair. It was broken and frizzled like straw. She was rocking unsteadily on her feet as the severe woman gesticulated. When the disheveled woman nodded, the severe woman let go of the two boys' hands and dropped down to her knees. She spoke to them, her expression soft and regretful. Even from up here I could tell that she loved those little boys. They both nodded, looking shrunken and reluctant. She hugged them and pushed them gently forward. The disheveled woman opened her arms and they both looked down. Casey stepped forward and guided them into the arms of what I now knew was their mother
I had never seen her before today. She wavered, insubstantial, like a mirage. Her painful thinness along with her fried, bleached hair made me think of a dandelion puff. She looked like she might blow away in a strong breeze.
She patted the small boys absently, then all three of them looked at Case, as if wondering what to do next. I saw Case shoot them an encouraging grin, then nod like he was giving permission. At that, the four of them headed into the house.
The severe woman stood for several minutes on the lawn, watching carefully, her hands opening and closing like she wished she could snatch them back.
That was the first and last time I saw Case's mother. Once in a while I would hear a car door slam late at night, and I somehow knew it was her, and the knowledge made me shudder even though I didn't yet understand. My childish mind made her into a ghost, or a vampire. And she was draining the life from her sons.
Chapter 11
Case
Crash fumbled with his keys, dropping them on the floor of the hallway. "Fuck, " he muttered, and the mocha-skinned chick on his arm giggled wildly.
Case ran his hand up the back of the girl standing nervously at his side. She had been a hard one to convince, but her eyes were a soft, velvety brown and the freckles on her shoulders stirred something inside of him. So he had been persistent, finally breaking past her hesitation with a few soft words and promises. And the skill of his hands and lips.
Crash finally burst through the door of his apartment. He grabbed the still giggling girl by the wrist and hauled her through the living room. The door to his bedroom slammed so hard the walls reverberated. Case was relegated to the beat up, sagging sofa. The girl looked crestfallen. Janie was her name. He thought.
"You live here?" she squeaked.
"Just crashing for the night." Those freckles were driving him mad. He wanted to bite them.
She looked all around, but Case wasn't in the mood to take things slowly. He yanked her close to him, cupping his hands around her ass cheeks. They were a bit too bony for his liking, but he would get over it. "You feel that, baby?" he rasped into her throat. Her hair wasn't the right shade, more strawberry blonde, than red, but she would do nicely. "You feel what you do to me?" He pressed himself roughly against her, letting her feel the prodding thrust of his desire.
She stifled a moan as he bent her head back, exposing the curve of her throat. She pressed herself against him and that was all the consent he needed. Pushing her roughly back onto the sofa, he yanked her skinny jeans down and smiled when he saw her lacy red thong. Janie had wanted action tonight. That was clear. And he was gonna give it to her.
He heard the delicate fabric rip slightly as he exposed her, but he couldn't be bothered with that. When he buried his face in between her legs, she gave a startled squeak that only served to inflame him further. He fucked her with his tongue, dragging her quickly and heedlessly to her peak. When he felt her muscles bunch and grow taut, he yanked his own jeans down and quickly unrolled a condom. As she arched herself up in her crescendo, he plunged himself roughly inside of her.
It was too much. She looked too much like her. In the back of his head, Case knew it wasn't Janie's fault. She didn't ask to look like the first girl he had ever loved. The girl he had trusted with the most guarded secret he had. Janie didn't know anything about how he had been betrayed, or how his family had been torn apart one last time. How his moment of weakness in trusting someone else had ripped away everything he had held dear.
It wasn't Janie's fault. But her eyes were that same shade of copper brown. And so he fucked her. Hard. Mercilessly. He pushed himself higher and higher inside of her, his anger taking him too far to care about her pleasure anymore. Her cries of pleasure degraded into yelps of pain and her velvet brown eyes flew open to stare at him, uncomprehendingly.
He couldn't stand to see the fear. With a grunt he pulled out and flipped her over onto her knees before plunging back into her. He gripped her tightly, driving himself into her over and over. He could feel her tensing again, poised on the precipice of an unwilling orgasm. She liked it. She didn't want to like it. He pressed his thumb down on her nub from behind and began to rub her frantically. She cried out in furious pleasure as he spent himself inside of her with a roar.
The wave of regret hit him the minute he went soft. She scrambled away from him, yanking her jeans back with hurt in her eyes. He looked at her directly. He felt about himself the same way she was feeling about h
im. When clarity finally took hold, he could see that her eyes were darker, more cocoa than warm cinnamon. This infuriated him more that ever. "You can go now," he heard himself say..
"You're a fucking asshole." Her voice was trembling.
"Baby," he touched the freckles on the shoulder that had so enticed him only moments ago. Those were wrong too. "You're absolutely right."
***
Crash fucked his girl three more times, by Case's count. Janie had rushed out the door and he had done nothing to stop her. He laid on the couch, willing sleep to overtake him, but the reproach in those brown eyes kept him staring into the darkness. The snow was really piling up outside.
Maybe tomorrow he would finally have the nerve to call the agency. If it wasn't closed. He would tell them he wanted to wish Hunter a happy birthday. That was all. He wasn't going to interfere or make trouble. He just wanted to wish his little brother a happy birthday, what would be the harm in that? Maybe they would finally tell him where he had ended up. Maybe they would give him the number of the foster home and he could finally hear his brothers' voices. It had been five years, he reminded himself. Their voices would have changed. They would sound like men, not little boys.
He rolled over onto his side, trying to drown out his thoughts with a throw pillow. Crash and his girl had finally shut the fuck up, leaving him alone with the noise of his thoughts. What was he even thinking? Even if he did get the number, what would he say? What could he tell his brothers, all these years later? How could he explain that he didn't mean to break their promise? How could he tell them that he knew he had failed?
How could he say he was sorry?
Chapter 12
Lexi
I woke up to the bright sunlight reflecting off of the two feet of glittering snow that blanketed the world. One look at our unplowed street confirmed it; I wasn't going anywhere today.
