Steel My Love

by Vivian Lux

  A small sound escaped my throat and I clapped my hands over my mouth. My cheeks were slick with tears I hadn't even known were falling. "Case...."

  He looked at me like he was just realizing I was there. "I yanked on that fucking cuff for days," he said tightly. "I kept thinking that I was almost there, that just one more pull would get me free." He rubbed his wrist faster. "It got so bloody that I started wondering if maybe I could use the blood to slip my hand free. But nothing fucking worked."

  The tears slipped silently down my face as I remembered those weeks where he would just disappear. If only I had known then. If only I had had the fucking courage to just walk down the street and knock. "Casey," I whispered, calling him by the name I knew him by back then. "Oh god Casey, how did you get free?"

  He sighed and stood up. "When she and the big guy," he paused and laughed bitterly. "You know, I can't even fucking remember his name? He was just one more in a string of dipshits she brought around to fuck. Well, when she and dipshit-of-the-week finally passed the hell out after a three day bender, I convinced Hunter to go looking for the key."

  His eyes grew brighter. "He was terrified that she would wake up and catch him. He was sobbing the entire time, but he kept those sobs quiet. For me. He faced his worse fucking fear at seven years old to try to protect me like I protected him."

  His voice caught and he choked and coughed. I realized that the memory of his brother's pain hurt him more than the memory of his own. It filled me with awe.

  "He searched for hours, while Jonah was curled up in a ball in the corner, sucking his thumb." His lips twisted into a grimace that could almost have been a smile. "Six years old and he still sucked his thumb like a baby. I couldn't get him to stop, and then I stopped trying because it gave him more comfort than anything I could do for him. So I just let him suck his thumb and he probably got beat at school for it, but what could I fucking do?" His voice was rising, higher and higher as the anger took him. I slid back, pressing my back into the wall, flicking my eyes between the man in front of me and the patch of worn pipe to the side.

  "Casey," I whispered. "Casey, you did so well."

  He snapped his eyes down to blaze at me and for a moment I thought he was going to hit something. I cringed involuntarily and his whole expression changed in an instant.

  He dropped to a crouch and tipped my chin up. "Don't you ever fucking cower like that again, Lexi, do you understand me? I would rather saw my own arm off than ever see you afraid of me." He dropped his head like he couldn't bear the weight of it a moment longer.

  My words stuck in my throat. Instead I lifted my lips to him. His head was buried in his hands and so I kissed that sweet scar above his eye. The one he had inflicted upon himself to save me.

  He made a low noise and stood up. The close air swirled around him, currents of air moving for the first time in years. "One more thing, Lexi." His voice was soft as he reached for my hand.

  We walked gingerly through the front hallway and turned to the stairs. A cheap chandelier had been ripped from the ceiling and now dangled precariously from a frayed electrical wire. Case had to step out of the way to avoid hitting his head. Luckily the window on the front door let in a shaft of weak light, enough to see our way through the gloom. "Are you sure it's safe to go up there?" I ventured, looking up the staircase. "The floor may have rotted."

  He knocked his fist against the wall. "It doesn't seem like this place is ready to give up quite yet." Then he looked back at me. He must have seen the fear on my face. "Walk where I walk," he instructed.

  I followed his footsteps carefully, trusting that if the boards could support his mass, they could support mine. The upstairs hallways smelled worse than the kitchen. It was an old scent, a human scent.

  As if reading my mind, Case sniffed too. "When the water got shut off, we started pissing in buckets," he explained. "Some of them spilled."

  I sniffed again. The sickly scent of stale, urine-soaked wood assaulted my nostrils and I felt my stomach heave. The hallway before us branched off into three rooms and a bathroom. It was just a normal house, very similar to mine. But it felt so different.

  Case wasn't moving. I stepped around to check his face again and was surprised to see that it was actually peaceful. I looked into the room where he was staring.

  It was bare. The single grimy window let in a sharply angled shaft of light that laid a patch of gloomy winter sunlight on the floor. Directly next to the patch of light was an old, bare mattress.

  He was staring at that mattress like it was an old friend.

  "Was that, their bed?"

  He nodded. "It's still here." He started forward and knelt in front of it with reverence. "I put them to sleep here. Every night." He swung himself around to sit on it, rubbing his hand over the faded, grubby fabric. "It was the first time they had slept on a mattress. We had been living in our car so long that when they first laid down on this, they were still crunched up in tight little balls. They didn't remember the cots at the shelter, she had stopped taking us there when they were really little because they kept forcing her to detox." He shook his head. "I had to teach them that they could stretch out."

  He smiled serenely as the tears slipped continually from my eyes. He spoke of horrors like they were blessings. Two little boys sharing a dirty, bare mattress.

  "Where did you sleep?" I wondered.

  He looked up at me. "In front of the door."

  I looked at him in shock. "You didn't sleep up here?"

  "No."

  "Why?"

  "Because if anyone tried to come in, they would have to deal with me first," he said fiercely, "before they got to my brothers."

  My mouth opened and shut. I couldn't form the words that I wanted to say about that. "Did you have a mattress?" I asked instead. Stupidly.

  He looked back down at it. "No," he said softly. "I slept in a pile of our clothes." He slowly stretched himself out, leaning back on that filthy mattress. "But I would lie here with them if they were scared or had trouble sleeping." He turned and sniffed. "I never realized how awful it smelled."

  I gave a small laugh through my tears and made to move towards him. He opened his arms for me and I snuggled down in to them, turning to face him so I could hold him as tightly as possible. I listened to the beat of his heart as my tears soaked his shirt and finally slowed. My heart found his rhythm and beat in unison with his.

  "The only way you'd ever know that we lived here was by this old stinky mattress," he muttered.

  "It doesn't smell very good, " I agreed. He laughed shortly and stood up, peering around the tiny, dust-choked room.

  "We were here and then we left. Like ghosts." He turned and looked at me. "Did anyone wonder where we had gone?"

  I swallowed and looked at my toes. "I didn't hear anything," I said, hating the truth.

  He grunted a half laugh. "A family just disappears from the block, and no one notices or cares." His voice was rising again and I stood up and pressed my hand to his chest, feeling his heart starting to race once more. "There was no one who gave a shit that we lived or died. We lived in hell under their noses and no one gave a shit enough to stop it."

  I grabbed him by the neck and yanked him down, pressing my nose to his and staring into his eyes. "I gave a shit."

  He blinked and then his mouth was on mine, hot and wild and desperate. He clung to me as I clung to him while the pain wracked his body.

  He lowered me on to the mattress and I didn't even think to protest. The stink of the mattress was replaced by the delirious scent of him.

  This time our lovemaking was slow, gentle and quiet. I held his face in my hands as he moved above me, his eyes fixed on mine. The pale blue was dark with grief and desire all swirled together in a sapphire storm.

  I wanted to be for his pleasure. I didn't want to be selfish and lose control so I held myself back from the brink.

  Until he bent down to my ear and let his lips brush my earlobe as he whispered, "Come for me, Lex
i. I need to see you come."

  I squeezed my eyes shut and let his words wash through me. Loosening my grip on him, I let the sensations that I had been holding back flood through me. The orgasm tore at the edges of my grief and the tears squeezed out of my eyes even as I cried out in pleasure.

  He was watching me, his lips parted in awe. "That was the first good thing that ever happened in this house," he groaned.

  I reached down and pushed him higher inside of me, wanting to pull him in where I could keep him always. "Make this be the second, Casey." I whispered as I clutched him. "I want to feel you come inside of me. Don't worry about anything anymore. I want you to let go of everything."

  He started to pump faster, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth bared in concentration. He pummeled into me harder and harder as I held on for dear life. "Yes sweetheart," I urged him. "Yes."

  With a strangled shout, he arched his back, thrusting inside of me so deeply that I could feel him everywhere at once. He shouted my name and then fell forward on top of me, his fingers tangled in my hair while his cock twitched and retreated.

  We stayed like that for longer than I thought possible. I lay by him, stroking his forehead and slipping my fingers through his hair. When his exhausted eyes closed, I kissed him one last time. "I love you," I whispered as his breath came soft and regular.

  My father was asleep on the sofa, the TV still blaring, as I slipped in to the front door. I tiptoed past him and up the stairs. I was exhausted, but my heart was strangely light.

  Chapter 34

  Lexi

  I awoke to the sound of sirens and the insistent buzzing of my phone on the nightstand. I grabbed the phone before it fell to the floor and looked with surprise at the display.

  "Ingrid?"

  There were a couple of panicked gasps before Ingrid finally answered me. "Lexi. Fuck, Lexi, I'm about to shit myself. I'm freaking out here."

  I sat up in bed. The sirens were getting louder. "Ingrid, are you okay?"

  She gasped a sob. "I don't know." Then her voice became pleading. "Can you come here?"

  "Now?" I looked at my alarm clock. It was four in the morning. "First tell me you're okay and what happened."

  The sirens were coming down my street. I had to plug my left ear to hear her. "Got a phone call just now, it was a number I didn't recognize so of course I didn't answer." Her breath hitched. "I checked my messages after and oh fuck."

  "Fuck?"

  "It was all garbled, you know like in those movies? The one where they're trying to disguise their voice?"

  "You're kidding."

  "No I'm fucking not, Lexi," she barked angrily. "Whoever this sick fuck was told me I needed to stay out of their territory, and that they were watching me right now and I looked really pretty while I slept."

  I leaned back on my bed. "Jesus."

  "I'm scared to be alone in here, Lexi. Please, can you come over?"

  The sirens had stopped so close to my house that I had to practically scream over them. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

  I hung up and slipped quickly from my bed, grabbing yesterday's jeans from their heap on the floor. I could hear my parents' sleepy voices across the hall. "What's going on?" I shouted over the noise of the sirens and opened their bedroom door without a thought.

  "Fire engines," my mom said worriedly. "Five of them."

  "What house is it?"

  "I can't tell," my father said, peering through the window. "But it's on our side of the street."

  "Holy shit," Mary said, appearing at the door and rubbing her eyes.

  "Language, Mary." my mother sighed, barely turning from where she was glued to the window.

  "I'm going to go see what's going on," my father announced, pulling on his sweatpants and an old police sweatshirt.

  "I'm coming with you, Kevin." My mother was already slipping into her robe.

  Sarah appeared silently in the hallway and followed us as all five trooped down the stairs. My father went to the door first, cautiously testing the handle for us.

  "Is it warmer in here or is it just me?" Mary remarked.

  "Stop that. You're imagining things," my mother snapped. "Kevin, what's going on?" My father had stepped onto the porch and was staring intently into the night.

  "Let me see." I pushed my way past my mom and pressed myself against my father. He silently lifted his arm and slung it over my shoulder, pulling me closer as we both stared at the inferno in front of us.

  451 was consumed with flames.

  The smoke was thick and the fire so hot that even five doors down I could feel the heat blast my face like I had opened an oven door. I wondered how the firefighters could even get close enough to attempt putting it out. Neighbors milled anxiously across the street, watching as the three hoses poured water on the unaffected flames.

  "Good riddance," my dad said softly.

  I looked up at him in surprise, but before I could say anything, my mother joined us, slipping her arm into mine. "That house was a blight on the block," she agreed. "I hope it burns to the ground."

  I stood in between my parents, watching the flames while my mind raced at a million miles an hour. He must have come back after we'd left. He must have stolen back in the dead of night. I felt a slow grin starting to spread my lips in spite of myself.

  My mother hugged me tighter. "Are you upset?" she asked.

  "No," I breathed. "Now something can rise from the ashes."

  Chapter 35

  Case

  Bruce was breathing heavily, sweat pouring from his receding hairline. His proud gut jiggled against the ropes with each panicked breath.

  "This kind of Mafia shit pisses me off, Bruce." Case knelt in front of him, crouching amiably like they were old friends. Bruce's eyes shot from him to Crash, who was idly playing with the duct tape they had just removed from his mouth. "So cut the noble crap and just tell us what the fuck we want to know."

  "Untie me first," the bartender squeaked.

  "No can do, asshole," Crash said casually. "If you don't want to talk, it's fine, I'll just let you sit and think some more. Cool down."

  "No!" Bruce's eyes shot to the newly repaired walk in freezer. "Please, no, I can't take being in there any more."

  "So cut the shit. We're not leaving until you tell us what you know."

  Bruce's eyes rolled back in his head. "You assholes are going to get me killed."

  Case pulled out his knife and idly picked at his nail. Brice watched the knife with horror. "Crash, don't you think that's something he should have thought of before he got us mixed up in his shit?"

  "I'm not the smartest guy," Crash answered. "But even I know you shouldn't be selling drugs to two different gangs at the same time. That's how shit goes bad for you real fast."

  "I needed the money!" Bruce exploded. 'You scumbags don't have the first clue what it's like. You roll in here, drink my beer and take my protection money and what do I get? A shit bar in a shit neighborhood and my fucking dirtbag son just got into Rutgers somehow. How'm supposed to make ends meet?"

  "So who is it?" Case moved over him, letting the fat man feel the full imposing height of his bearded form. "Who did you sell us out to?"

  Bruce stammered and swallowed. "Guy named Lopez. Fernando Lopez."

  Crash hissed. Case nearly exploded. "Los Lobos? You fucking had us moving in the same business as those psychotic cartel assholes?" He smashed his fist into Bruce's face.

  Crash pulled back worriedly. "So they shot at us. What's next, huh? What're we going to do?"

  Bruce let out a sob as blood poured from his nose. "I'm sorry," he sniveled.

  "Fucking everybody's sorry," Case spat. "Okay Bruce. I think you need to chill for a while, while we figure out what the fuck to do with a stupid traitor like you."

  "No!" Bruce wiggled against his bonds futilely, still screaming his apologies as Crash and Case lifted the wooden chair and deposited it in the freezer. With the door shut tight you could barely hear his cries.


  "Go switch off the circuit," Case told Crash. "He can sit in the cold dark and worry about dying for a while."

  Just then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He was ready to tell Teach that they got the info they needed when he saw in shock that it was Lexi calling.

  He moved quickly away from the freezer, lest she hear Bruce's screams, and cleared his throat several times.

  "Lexi," he said softly. "You're up early."

  She gave a small laugh. "I couldn't sleep through the sirens."

  He grunted, not knowing what to say.

  "They couldn't save it," she said softly, barely audible over the connection. "It burned to the ground, Case. There's nothing left of it."

  He exhaled. "Good."

  She was silent for several moments. Then she cleared her throat, "Listen, um, I'm with Ingrid right now. I just got her back to sleep, she was freaking out pretty hard about a phone call she got. Someone saying that she was in their territory and they were watching her."

  Case's heart splashed in his stomach. "And you're there? Lexi what the fuck are you doing there? Get out!"

  She sputtered. "I'm fine, Case. What aren't you telling me?"

  He grimaced, pacing frantically like a caged lion. Los Lobos, they were watching Ingrid and Lexi was there, right now. "Hold on, I'm coming over."

  "She just fell asleep," Lexi protested.

  "I don't give a shit. She needs to wake the fuck up and you need to go somewhere safe." He wracked his brain. The clubhouse wasn't safe, not until they figured a way out of this mess. Ingrid's apartment clearly wasn't safe.

  And he had gone right to Lexi's after the shooting. If they were watching him, he had led them right to her.

  "Fuck," he screamed, punching himself in the thigh. "Stay there," he barked. "I'm coming right now." He jabbed the phone off.