by Evelyn Drake
“Charlize, what are you doing ?”
“He’s killed my partner, and I’m taking him in .”
“Your partner’s not dead. He’s AWOL—as in he will be dead soon .”
“This guy killed him, I know it!” Charlize’s voice rose. “Steve’s my partner. He would have at least contacted me .”
“Contacted you? Such as this morning at 5:37am?” Monica said, her tone deadly as she took a step forward .
Michael felt Charlize flinch. Monica took yet another step forward .
“Steve’s burnt. If he comes in, he can’t be trusted. His loyalty is split. And we can’t let him stay out because he knows too much. He. Is. Burnt .”
Monica took another step, and Michael felt Charlize begin to tremble. Suddenly, the gun wasn’t jutting into his side any longer. It was pointed past his head at Monica, and he was being used as a human shield .
“So now I’m burnt to you too,” Charlize said .
“No, no... We’ll set you up with a nice retirement cottage in Florida.” Monica’s tone was openly mocking .
Sound exploded inside of Michael’s ear, and he tossed himself to the side as if trying to escape the blast of a grenade. But it wasn’t any use. He head rang as the world titled, and it took two attempt for him to get back on his feet. All around him, there were explosive flashes of light as plants fractured and fell to the ground in pieces. All around the glass dome, suited individuals fought members of the Family .
Michael stood and staggered, bent low with his hands shielding his ears as he tried to figure out a direction to go. The close of a small but strong hand around his forearm answered the question for him. He was pulled stumbling and falling toward one of the three-prong legs that led off of the arboretum’s main dome. But that same hand—the hand of Charlize—yanked him up short as an enraged Monica stepped out into their path .
Lifting her gun laden hand, Monica’s beauty twisted into something inhuman as she pointed the gun’s nozzle at Michael’s head. She hesitated and then pointed the gun at Charlize but kept her focus on Michael .
“Where’s the stone ?”
“I...” Michael’s mind raced as he tried to figure out how to play the moment. Give the stone up and he died. Don’t give the stone up and Charlize would die .
Monica pulled the hammer back, and Charlize’s hand tightened on Michael’s arm .
Fuck it .
Michael stepped between the gun and Charlize .
“I’ll give you the stone .”
16
Steve
T he matte black Ducati Monster thrummed between Steve’s legs as he raced the roads in an effort to catch up to Michael. Unable to find the dead man’s helmet, Steve rode without, knowing he might soon join the homeowner in the hereafter if he laid down the dead man’s bike going at the speeds with which he was traveling .
Inches below his feet, the road blurred from light grey to black as he made the turn that would lead to the arboretum. It hadn’t been hard to figure out which way Michael would go—home or to turn himself in to the Family. Only one of those options required Steve to be left laying unconscious on the ground .
“Fucking dumbass,” Steve swore for the hundredth time. “I’ll kill anyone who touches him.” Steve was torn between wanting to throttle Michael himself or kiss him. But the horrible, pounding headache Michael had left him with had him leaning toward the former .
Entering the park, Steve slowed the bike to a crawl as he followed the winding road that would lead him to the Glass House. As he broke through the trees into the parking lot surrounding the glass and steel dome, his eyes swept the area, looking for anyone or anything who could hinder his progression. What he saw were men and women running—his people—toward the dome with guns pulled. Within the dome, he could see the singular, bright flashes that marked gunfire .
“Michael,” Steve whispered, as he twisted the bike’s throttle, letting the bike’s power surge him forward. He swept the edge of the glass dome’s parking lot before curving the bike’s nose to drive straight toward the dome’s wall. Giving the bike one last surge of power in the moment before its front tire hit the five foot embankment at the base of the dome, Steve released his hold on the bike when he felt it go airborne as it topped the embankment’s crest. He hovered, motionless for a moment, as the bike hurdled forward to crash its nearly 400 pound mass through the dome’s side .
Steve landed hard on the angled earth, somersaulting down the short but steep hill. But as soon as his downward slide stopped, he was on his feet, climbing up with his gun drawn. Not even inside yet, he could hear the screams and sharp gunshots from those within .
Stepping through the bent steel and beneath a dangling shard of glass that rocked in its efforts to break loose from its moorings, Steve bent in a half-crouch as he took in his surroundings. The dome was chaos .
His sweeping eye fixed on the point he wanted. At an angle to him across the dome, Michael was locked in a battle with Monica. Their hands were stretched high into the air, and the prize they fought for was a not-too shiny gun .
Steve took aim and waited, crouched behind a large elephant plant with huge, arching leaves .
A hard elbow from Monica sent Michael to the floor. Monica aimed her gun at him but it was Steve who fired. But a figure rose just as Steve’s finger tightened on the trigger—a woman with shiny blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail at the crown of her head. The gun recoiled, the shot made, and Steve stood to his full height as Charlize slumped forward against Monica’s belly. A large red rose with a black throat bloomed in the back of her head before it began to melt .
Charlize didn’t move, and her arms hung limply at her sides, even though her body stayed erect on her knees and leaning against Monica .
Something clattered next to Steve’s foot, but that it was his gun hitting the gravel walkway didn’t register for him. He stood up to his full height and he stared. The creature that Charlize lay against redirected the aim of her gun from Michael to Steve with only a single glance down at Charlize .
Michael staggered back from the sight of Charlize’s sudden death, and he turned to follow the trajectory of Monica’s intended shot. He was slack jawed and stunned, but when he saw Steve, his shock jolted into action. He threw himself at Monica and their death-struggle began anew .
Moving without thought or concern for the gun fight happening all around him, Steve wove through the dome’s interior until he finally reached Charlize. She lay strewn on the ground, face down and motionless as Michael and Monica battled. Michael had the Amazonian wannabe belly-down on the ground. His knee was in her lower back and his elbow was wrapped around her throat as he bent her backward in a choking U .
“Charlize,” Steve whispered as he sank to his knees. Turning her body over, he cradled her in his arms. Her eyes were open—and already lifeless. Her spark gone .
Just a few feet away, Steve was aware that Monica’s gurgling struggle had ceased and her clawing hands had stopped trying to dig her way to freedom through Michael’s arm. Yet none of it mattered. The outcome of that battle had become meaningless .
Michael released Monica and let her fall face forward at the full speed gravity would allow as he sat winded on her back. Finally, he crawled to Steve, closing the distance between them .
“We have to go,” he said, his comforting hand extended and hovering an inch over Steve’s arm .
“Drop dead,” Steve rasped, rocking Charlize in his arms, not taking his eyes off of her .
Michael sat back on his heels with his hands on the ground as he continued to struggle to catch his breath. He looked around at the continuing firefight. Steve knew that it was beginning to slow, and once it slowed enough, the two factions would regroup and refocus .
“Please, Steve. We have to go,” Michael tried again .
“This is your fault,” Steve said, lifting tear-filled eyes to Michael. “It might have been my bullet, but you did this. Why didn’t you stay with the plan ? �
��
Michael shook his head as if unable to offer up an answer. “Bring her with us,” he finally said. “Bring her, but we gotta go. All of us. Please, Steve .”
Steve’s arms tightened around Charlize as he squeezed his eyes shut and his rocking grew in fervor. Finally, with a gasped sob, he slid his arm beneath Charlize’s knees and he lifted. They ran, down one of the empty legs off the dome. At the leg’s end, they burst through the door and stepped into the serene garden beyond. Moving quickly down the mild slope of a hill, they disappeared through the opening of a tall hedge maze .
Inside, they took a right and two lefts before stopping. Steve sank to his knees again, cradling Charlize. When he finally laid her body to rest upon the ground, he sobbed with open heartbreak. But when he stood, his eyes burned with rage and he advanced quickly on Michael, grabbing him by the shirt to push and hold him deep inside the hedge’s tangle .
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you. Tell me !”
“Because I love you...” Michael whispered, his body lax as he resisted nothing about Steve’s rage .
Steve froze and then drove his fist into the hedge’s prickly depths until he’d pounded a hole inside its heart that wore Steve’s own blood. His teeth were clenched and bare and tears fell freely from his eyes. Finally, the big man slumped into Michael, wrapping him in his arms. There he cried his pain into Michael’s neck as Michael held him tight .
Steve thought his insides would twist and come out of himself as his grief poured itself out of him. It was the worst pain he’d ever known, and his entire body shook, racked with sobs .
The two men sank to their knees together, holding each other, desperate to have an anchor of hope .
“Let’s go, baby,” Michael whispered as he stroked Steve’s hair once Steve’s sobs had quieted. “Our job’s not done .”
Steve nodded his head but didn’t speak. They stood, and with Steve’s hand in Michael’s, Michael led their way toward the maze’s entrance. By the time they reached it, Steve was back on point and in control, determined to keep alive his last good thing in life .
If I lose him, I’m done. No more pain. Just done .
They made a run for the Aston Martin. No bullets were fired and no shouts were raised. They were in and gone before anyone had a mind to look for them. Steve drove and Michael’s hand rested on his forearm as he worked the stick shift .
I’ll never be without him. Never again .
17
Michael
“S hut up and get on already,” Michael said, feeling exasperated. Late evening had fallen and the world was quiet .
“This isn’t going to work. This is not going to work,” Steve said, pacing back and forth as he eyeballed the Brammo electric motorcycle sitting idle between Michael’s legs. It was almost noiseless. “You’re fucking nuts. We’ll die before we hit the house .”
Michael had been lusting after the bike since he’d seen in on the streets and tracked it down more than eight months ago. Its quiet grace and power had mesmerized him. He stole it a month later, but then parked it until the moment he needed it, and he needed it now .
They sat outside his family’s compound with its high walls. Before them lay a picnic table that had been turned into a makeshift ramp, and Michael’s keen judgement had declared that if they hit it at the right speed, the bike would get them where they needed to be .
Steve paced some more, and Michael was almost ready to make the jump without him, when Steve suddenly hiked his leg and got on the back. Michael smiled at the feeling of Steve’s groin firmly against his end .
“Are you hard?” Michael asked, laughter in his voice .
“Shut up.” There was a pause. “I can’t help it. It’s the adrenaline .”
Michael’s smile grew. He held on to the lightness of the moment they were in instead of focusing on the possibilities ahead of them. They had studied the compound’s exterior for over an hour and hadn’t seen any indication of Sigmund’s presence. Problem was, they hadn’t seen any indication of anyone’s presence, and that was wrong. Deadly wrong .
“I need you to hold on tight... tighter,” Michael said, squeezing Steve’s clasped hands for emphasis where they sat low on his belly. “This thing has crazy acceleration .”
“We make it through this and you take a turn bottoming .”
“Not gonna happen,” Michael said as he gave the bike just enough power to get it moving. “That ass of yours is just too sweet for me to pass on.” He moved it in a large loop that eventually lined up with their makeshift ramp. “Just before we hit the ramp, lean forward into it .”
He didn’t give Steve a chance to answer or a chance to have the big guy’s nerves overcome him and back out. From fifty feet back from the jump, he powered the bike forward until it was at the sweet-spot speed he needed to get the jump lift they needed. He’d compensated for Steve’s extra weight by a little too much, and as the bike became airborne, they hit too far forward on the detached garage’s roof. Michael felt Steve’s hands dislodge from his waist as he shifted the bike’s trajectory and powered into the next leg of their jump, but there was nothing he could do about it. They were committed .
The bike sailed from the garage roof’s upmost tip to fly into the air. Steve was behind him until they hit the apex of their flight’s arch, and then Michael felt Steve’s body lift away. He reached with a desperate hand to grab at Steve’s clothes, but his hand found nothing to hold .
The bike landed hard, and slid when Michael laid it down on its side atop the steep slope of the enormous roof of the main house. By the time the bike had scraped down five feet of ceramic shingles and stopped its descent, Michael was on his feet and moving. Steve’s name sat wedged in his throat, but he didn’t call out. Only his years of training kept him silent .
Crouching low and crab walking down, face up, Michael made his way to the roof’s edge. Adjusting to look over the rain gutter’s lip, he steeled himself for what he might see as he imagined Steve’s broken body laying unmoving and bleeding three stories down. However, relief flooded him when instead he found Steve dangling by his fingertips from an unlit light fixture protruding out of the side of the house. The sight of him made Michael’s lips stretch into a broad and toothy smile .
“You said you could do it!” Steve hissed at him, seeing the humor in nothing .
“I did do it,” Michael answered easily as he slipped off his pants, shoes and socks. Lowering a leg down to where Steve hung, Michael wrapped the other leg around his arm and held to the jean’s waist. “Grab it .”
“I’ll fall; we’ll fall .”
“Grab it!” Michael commanded and breathed a silent sigh of relief when Steve did just that .
Locking his bare feet against the tiles, Michael leaned back against Steve’s weight and he pulled. Good thing we skipped dinner, he mused, estimating that if Steve had weighed just five pounds more, they would both indeed be plummeting to their deaths. “Get your fat ass up here,” he growled as Steve’s heel hooked over the roof’s rim. When done, the effort left them both on their backs, breathless .
“Maybe you should have told me you wanted sex before we got up here,” Steve said with a glance at Michael’s near nakedness .
“Joke all you want,” Mike retorted, “I saved your ass .”
Steve rolled onto his shoulder and gave Michael’s lips a quick kiss. “And thank you for that .”
Michael was dressed and they were climbing a minute later. They crab-walked up the roof, over its steepled edge, and down the other side. Steve only slipped twice but caught himself both times .
Reaching the guttered edge of the other side of the roof, Michael leaned over and then directed their journey several feet forward along the roof’s edge before stopping .
“Here,” he whispered .
Steve peered over the edge. “What’s wrong with aiming for that balcony over there ?”
“It’s too obvious. The window below us leads into a storage room for the clea
ner. No one will be in there as we enter the home .”
“Fuck, I’m still going to get killed,” Steve groaned as he watched Michael go over the edge. He laid on his belly with only his head peeking past the edge as Michael made his way down to the window. “What are you even holding onto ?”
“The house’s stucco coating is thick. But my toes are on the window sill now.” He crouched down and wiggled the lock loose by wedging the window sideways in its moorings. It wasn’t a trick that would normally work, but he was well familiar with this window. He’d escaped from it to follow teenage escapades countless of times .
The window slid open and Michael went in, feet first. He fought the urge to tell Steve not to follow. The slightest slip wouldn’t allow recovery. He put his head back through the window to call up to Steve to stay put, but saw that the man was already climbing over with his legs dangling down and looking for purchase .
Resting his back against the window sill’s bottom edge, Michael lifted both hands to provide a landing place for one of Steve’s feet. It seemed to give Steve the confidence he needed to release his hold on the roof and find other hand holds on his journey down .
Michael’s hands guided Steve’s foot to his chest where Steve was able to stand for the half second he needed to transition into a position that would allow him to move through the window feet first. He rubbed his chest with his thumb once they were both inside, sure that he’d have a shoe sized bruise there for weeks .
The room they were in was just large enough for them and the floor to ceiling shelving that covered the walls to either side of them. There was every cleaning aid imaginable plus a surplus of toiletries and linens .
Michael put his ear to the door and listened for a few minutes to the movement patterns of the house. He heard none .
Finally, looking back at Steve, he shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing left to do but open the door .
Steve squared himself as if readying for a fight as Michael wrapped his hand around the door’s knob. He turned it as slow as he could so that the handle mechanism’s resulting click would be as quiet as possible. His heart thudded in his chest with how loud it was .
