by Vivian Lux
She gave a Cheshire cat smile. "Just follow me, Delaney."
So I did. We walked up to Spring Garden and to my surprise, she turned instead of right. "You live in the Loft District?"
"Right over there," she pointed at a beautiful, old stone building. I felt a flutter in my chest, the same one I always have when I am confronted with nice things. Like someone is going to catch me and yell at me not to touch them.
"Your parents got you an apartment here?"
She shook her head as she watched the light, "Nope, they left it up to me. I wasn't going to be staying in their house, that's for sure. They laughed at me for thinking I could afford it, but who's laughing now?
Her heels clicked as we crossed the street and I felt another flutter in my belly. She pushed the door open and we both gasped when we hit the warmth of the lobby. "It got too cold too fucking fast," she complained.
But I didn't hear her. I was too busy looking around at the marble lobby and wondering how the fuck Ingrid could afford a place like this. I had to bite my tongue several times to keep from prying. I still didn't know her well enough to just blurt out my incredulity.
She stabbed the elevator button with a manicured fingernail. Her usual several designer handbags hung from her shoulders. Slow realization was starting to replace that flutter in my belly, which made me even more reluctant to ask how she afforded this place.
I decided I didn't want to know.
Her place was on the sixth floor, facing towards the Art Museum. It was bright and girly and bigger that the first floor of my parents' house. She dropped her bags in a heap on the floor. "What a stressful week," she sighed as she blew air out of the side of her mouth.
I stepped onto the polished wood floor and looked at the bank of windows and out onto the cars circling Eakins Oval in front of the Art Museum and the iconic front steps. "This is a hell of a nice location, Ingrid."
She moved around behind me. "I dunno, I wanted to be on Rittenhouse Square, but this was closer to school. I don't know if I'm going to stay though, it's Deadsville at night.
"How do you..." I bit the question back again. I knew it wasn't legal, however she afforded it. "How much time is left on your lease?" I asked instead.
"August. Seems a long way off, but it'll go quick." She kicked off her heels and flopped onto the white couch. "Sit down, you're making me nervous."
I was nervous. But I sat obediently. "Are you going to tell me about you and Crash, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"
I looked down at the bright purple carpet. I knew she was expecting me to tell her we had slept together the other day. I knew she was waiting for all the salacious details.
After the ride, he had dropped me off near my car. "I want to see you again," he had said with that crooked grin. My body was still vibrating, both from the bike and from being near him. "Got some shit going on, but I'll call you soon, that okay?"
"That's okay," I had breathed. And then he had kissed me. And I had felt like the world had dropped away. It was a kiss so forceful, so urgent, that it should have burned away all of my reluctance and regrets.
It should have been enough.
That night I had laid in my bed and berated myself. You need to move on, Lexi, I told myself over and over again. You need to move on, let go of this. You're never going to see Casey again. Stop living in the past.
But when I fell asleep, my dreams were still stuck. Now my memories of Casey's lips on mine were mingled with the all too recent memory of Crash's lips in the same place. I had let my hands wander downwards, losing myself in a new fantasy.
Five years had given me time to develop from childish love into full-blown desire. Casey would be twenty-two now, a full-grown man. And I was a full-grown woman I couldn't help but note, as my fingers traced the heaviness of my breasts and the curve of my hips. I had filled out from the skinny little girl I had been, but then he would have filled out too. The thought made me clench my hand between my thighs.
I wondered if he shaved or let his beard grow. I wondered if his hair was long or short. I wondered if it still was as silky as it was when he was sixteen.
My mind created the man in front of me, piecing him together from snatches of memory. Crash's strong arms. Casey's blue eyes. Casey's blond hair. Crash's forceful kisses.
"You're blushing, Delaney!"
Ingrid's delighted shriek brought me back into the room, my cheeks flaming furiously. "I am not!" I protested weakly.
"Bullshit. He take you back to his place? What's he like in bed? Oh my god, you're blushing harder! Ha!"
I looked down at my fluttering hands. "I don't know. He kissed me..." She squeaked. I held up my hands. "And that was it."
"I'll take it." She bounced to her feet. "And now we are going to chill because I am fucking wrecked. And you are going to tell me every single detail of that kiss." I gaped at her as she bounded into the other room and then reappeared with her fists closed.
"What's going on?"
She looked at her hands and grinned. "It's a surprise. New merchandise we need to test out."
"Uh."
"Stop making that face, Delaney. It's just a pill. Something to help us relax."
I stammered and was saved by the chime of my phone. I dove for it.
"You free tonight?" It was Crash.
"Yes!" I typed back quickly. I didn't want to take whatever Ingrid was offering. "I'm free right now, actually."
"Nice. Party tonight, wanna come?"
I hesitated for only a minute. "Where?"
"Clubhouse."
I sat back on my heels as my breath came out in a whoosh. "What's going on?" Ingrid demanded.
"Crash just invited me to a party at his clubhouse."
My ears rang for several seconds after Ingrid's shriek ended. She snatched my phone from my hands and scrolled back through the message. "Oh my god, a biker clubhouse? That is insane. Oh my god, you sure you only kissed him?"
"Yes!" I shouted, snatching my phone back. My heart was hammering in my throat.
"Are you going? Tell me you're going."
I looked at my phone, remembering the magic I had felt as I rode with Crash. It was too cold today to go for a ride. But maybe I could claim some of that magic in another way.
I made up my mind. "Can you pick me up?" I typed back.
Chapter 23
Case
J. laughed. "I can promise you, it's not going to be like anything you see on TV."
Andy looked disappointed, and the rest of the club laughed along with J. at his petulant face.
"Thorn, you got some sort of wild imagination," Dr. D remarked.
"Poor little prickly prospect," Case chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll still get to have fun. I won't make you haul shit the entire night."
It was Crash who had christened Andy with his new name. The first night, when Andy had bitched about the uncomfortable bunks, Crash had declared him a "prickly little bastard." With the last name Hawthorne, his new name was decided.
Thorn headed back outside to the pickup truck that was loaded with cases and cases of beer and whiskey. It was party time. The Storm Riders from Albany were finally on their way, hauling their bikes down to winter in Florida. Case had had Thorn working sixteen-hour days on the new walls of the bunkhouse to get everything ready in time. The exhaustion, coupled with the disappointment of realizing that he wasn't going to be able to get shitfaced tonight had the thorny little prospect in a pretty foul mood.
The morning of the party, Crash stopped by in his pickup, then jumped down to help carry the supplies in.
"Beer, bourbon, and bullets," he had announced excitedly.
"What more could we ask for?" Case agreed. "And what about your other duties?"
Crash looked panicked. "Fuck man, I'm so sorry."
Case was surprised. "You struck out? This is unheard of."
Crash dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "I never strike out. I just, uh, forgot to look." A slow grin spread across h
is face. "Been kind busy thinkin' about my little redhead."
"No time to find a chick for your friend?"
"I will make it up to you." Crash promised.
Emmy came out into the parking lot to help carry the load. "Can you believe this shit?" Case asked her. "One job he has. 'Bring girls to the party,' and he flakes on me."
She thought for a second. "I can call Sammie if you want."
"The chick with a tattoo?" Emmy's best friend was a bit of a wildcard bitch, but she had great tits and an amazing tattoo across her chest that Case couldn't help but stare at. "Yeah sure, why not, I'm pretty sure she hates me but whatever."
Emmy laughed, "She doesn't hate you. She thinks you're a dirty, sexist pig, but I think she's secretly intrigued."
"Oh, I'm intriguing?"
Emmy smiled a crooked grin, "Oh no mister, I'm not playing this game. I'm spoken for."
Case smiled. "Worth a shot! Okay well thank you, maybe I can get her drunk and we can hatefuck each other." He grinned sardonically. "That can be fun too."
Emmy smiled wickedly. "She would definitely be into that. I'll go give her a call. Watch out though, I think she bites."
"Sounds perfect." A good hard aggressive fucking with a chick who wasn't into him. That sounded like the kind of fun he needed.
And Sammie dyed her hair red. Definitely a bonus. He headed into the garage to take inventory.
When he finished locking everything down, Emmy appeared at his shoulder. "She's coming. You excited?"
"I'm beside myself," he rolled his eyes.
"She's my best friend, asshole, be nice."
"I'm so nice and you know it."
Emmy punched him lightly in the arm, her eyes twinkling. "I won't tell anyone your secret," she grinned.
Case watched her go off. She was warm and friendly, with a slight edge to her that made her interesting. He could see why his friend was crazy about her. "Thorn!" he barked, shaking the wistfulness from his head. "Get the targets set up! They're going to be here soon!"
When he first heard the approaching motor, he assumed it was the first wave of the Storm Riders. He threw on his jacket and stepped out into the cold, only to be surprised that it was Crash's pickup. He peered into the tinted windows, trying to catch a glimpse of this mystery redhead Crash wouldn't shut up about. He saw a mass of curls, but nothing else.
The passenger door opened, and a small, womanly figure slipped to the snowy ground. Her red hair shone, the winter sun catching the deep auburn that ran through the wild curls that had escaped the hat she had shoved over them. Something flickered through him to see that shade of red and he peered closer. It can't be. It couldn't be.
Then she rounded the front of the truck and he saw them. The same warm cinnamon eyes that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for five long years. They looked at him, and she blinked slowly, like a cat, but the dawning realization hit her at the same time as it hit him.
Lexi.
Her mouth fell open and Case knew she recognized him too.
Chapter 24
Lexi
"You're like a ghost in this house, Alexandra. I don't appreciate being made to feel like your landlord. I'm your mother."
I sighed heavily into the phone. "Mom, I know. I know you're my mother. And I love you very much. Things are just...complicated right now."
I could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone "Child, you don't even have the first idea what complicated is."
"I love you, Mom. I'm, uh, gonna go now, okay?"
It felt strange to say. When she sighed I nearly took it back. "You are nineteen," she said, so low I could barely hear her over the noise of Crash's pickup. "I trust you, Alexandra. Don't abuse it."
I looked sidelong at the biker who was driving me to a party at his clubhouse. "Of course, Mom. I'll call you later okay?" My finger hovered over the end button for several moments before I summoned the strength to push it.
I was surprised to see that I knew the neighborhood we turned into. Past the bars and trendy shops of Northern Liberties was the weird little wasteland of warehouses and fly-by-night trucking operations that huddled along the blocks before the waterfront of the Delaware River. It made me weirdly excited to know that Crash's other life existed in the same plane of existence as mine. I started watching out of the window, trying to guess where we were headed.
I was smiling eagerly as we turned into the parking lot of the weird building that stood alone on the block. The hulk of the Ben Franklin Bridge could have cast a shadow over the pavement if the sun was angled right. But it was late afternoon and the sun was at our back as we pulled in, casting deep shadows over the figure that came out to greet us.
He was tall and his torso was bare under what I now knew was called a cut. His honey-colored beard was both neatly trimmed and wild at the same time. The flash of the low sun caught his pale blue eyes as he squinted at me and my stomach lurched.
"No," I said. When I heard my voice I realized I was speaking out loud.
It couldn't be. No.
The blond man was staring just as hard at me as I was at him. Denial grabbed ahold of me, lifting me from my seat and propelling me forward. "No," I said again, and bright fear flashed in my veins like a million silver minnows. I opened my mouth to say his name, but it died on my lips when he scraped his long blond hair back and clutched fistfuls of it in his hands.
Without the hair hanging down over his face I could clearly see it. The scar over his eye.
He had soared through the air like an avenging angel. But he overbalanced. His bloodsoaked face terrified us all. But I had closed the gash for him with my heart beating wildly as it awoke to his nearness for the first time.
"Casey."
Eight days. My terrible knowledge ate away at me for eight long days. Because I had sworn to my love that I would keep his secret.
Each time that I saw him, it was as if the scars were also mine. I gently asked him about them the next night, fearful of how he would react. But he had lifted his shirt and shown me. "I trust you, Lexi," he had said.
The memory burned.
"What are the round ones?"
"Cigarettes."
I swallowed back the bile. "Why?"
"I was crying too much."
I traced my nail along the purple flesh. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore."
"And here?"
He looked down. "Which one?"
"The long one."
"She was dating a bible thumper at the time. He believed in using a belt. The dark red part, that's from the buckle."
"Oh my god, Casey."
"I got him back though. He was on probation, so I acted all nice the morning of his court appearance and kept bringing him his vodka until he passed out. He missed it and got arrested. My mother tried her hardest to blame it on me, but I think she was glad to be rid of him because he wouldn't let her swear."
"Here?"
"Oh that's from having to break the car window when she locked the keys inside."
"Why did you have to break the window?"
"Because all of our stuff was in there and they were about to tow it."
"Were you moving?"
"No."
"So wait, all your stuff...."
"We were living in the car, Lexi."
"I thought...the house...."
"That was when I was little. Hunter and Jonah were only babies."
"Hunter and Jonah.,,."
"It's different for them. I make sure of it." There was strange pride in his voice. "I have the job with the bike shop, I make sure they are ready for school in the morning. They're going to be okay. Besides, I'm bigger than any guy she brings home lately. They all hate me and leave. It pisses her off and she throws things, but she won't raise a hand to me anymore."
"But what about when you're gone?"
"Why would I be gone?"
I swallowed back my guilt. "When you're...here."
His eyes darted wildly for a moment, like a spoo
ked horse. "She wouldn't. She knows better now."
I felt sick. I didn't want to ask it, because it would take him away from me. "Are you sure?"
He shrugged my hands off of him, irritated. "Of course I'm sure." He pulled down his too tight T-shirt. "I'm gonna go now, kay? I'm tired."
"Casey, I'm sorry. But I need to know. I'm worried, so worried. I love you Casey."
"You don't need to worry about me." He had pressed his lips to my forehead and wrapped my hand in his. "I'm strong, stronger than her, that's for sure. I'm going to take care of my brothers."
I wanted to believe him.
But I couldn't stop crying myself to sleep every night. I stopped eating, feeling guilty for every bite that crossed my lips. I wasn't paying attention in school. When I stopped showering after feeling guilty for wasting water, my parents finally took me aside.
"Alexandra, honey, what's going on?" My mother sat me down at the dining room table and covered my hand with hers. "There's something bothering you."
I swallowed. "It's nothing," I stammered.
My dad sat down at the table and I squirmed under his gaze, feeling sudden sympathy for the criminals he interrogated.
"Alexandra," he said, his tone half comfort, half warning.
"Please, I can't. Just leave me alone."
"I'm not going to leave you alone. I'm your mother. I want to help." My mother was boring a hole in my skull with her gaze.
"There's nothing you can do."
"Try me."
"Please," I begged. "I swore, I wouldn't say anything."
My father leaned forward on his elbows. "There are some secrets that need to be brought out into the open, Lexi honey. Your mother and I can both see that this is eating away at you."
I opened my mouth. They were grown-ups. They would know what to do. Then I snapped it shut again. No. I wasn't going to betray Casey.
"I'm fine, I can handle it." My words were a strange echo of Casey's voice.
"Not eating, not showering, and we can all see you've been crying." My mother's voice was so gentle that the tears came unbidden it my eyes. "Lexi, please sweetheart, it's tearing me up to see you hurting like this."
