Burn (Brothers of Ink and Steel #2)

by Allie Juliette Mousseau

  “Thanks for protecting me tonight against, Dylan.”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “Are you sure your foster parents aren’t going to come home early and freak out?”

  “Positive.”

  I reach my hands up and hold his arm over me, hoping he won’t take it back. Tears well in my eyes. The feel of his arm … everything he’s done … I wonder how I’m ever going to let go.

  But right now, I don’t have to.

  “Thank you for letting me stay.”

  When I wake up the next morning, Liam’s arm is still around me. We hadn’t changed positions all through the night. Normally, when I wake up in a strange place—which is all of the time—I get this uneasy, frightened feeling. My heart pumps with adrenaline to remind me I’m not safe and I may have to run at any second. But I don’t feel that way at all right now. I feel perfectly content … maybe even happy. Okay, definitely happy. The smile that I feel spread over my face is proof of that.

  A funny breath escapes my chest, sort of like a laugh of disbelief and a sigh of relief all mixed up.

  “Hey, you awake?”

  Is it possible that Liam’s voice is more amazing when he’s sleepy? It’s deep and rough and gives me tingles deep in my stomach.

  “Did you get a good night’s sleep?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, actually, I did.” Surprisingly. “What time is it?”

  He laughs and sits up. “One in the afternoon.”

  “No way.” I run my fingers through my hair.

  “Yup, but I’m happy you got a good sleep—maybe we’ll get rid of those dark circles under your eyes. Now, let’s get some food like I promised.”

  The thought of dark circles makes me reach up and gingerly trace my fingertips under my eyes. But food … “Yeah, I could totally go for food.”

  “Snickers and a cheeseburger coming up.” He goes to his closet and pulls down a black camo backpack, sets it on the bed and starts digging through it.

  He pulls out a couple of outfits, a change of shoes and some other stuff, until he gets to a small metal box with a padlock on it.

  Once he sets it out, he goes through a smaller, zippered pouch and pulls out a steel key ring with four keys on it. He unlocks the box, and inside are various trinkets, pieces of jewelry, a small wad of cash secured with an old rubber band and some folded papers and envelopes.

  “This is my life bag. When my mom tosses me or I run, or a foster family gets ugly, or I’m sleeping in a doorway someplace, it’s always packed and ready to grab in a second,” he explains.

  “Do you run away a lot?” I ask quietly.

  “You have no idea.” He shakes his head as he stuffs the money in his pocket. “For a while I stayed with my grandmother, but she died when I was nine.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He studies me a moment and keeps talking. “I was forced to stay with my mom, but that’s like sitting on a rowboat on top of an active volcano—BOOM!” Liam brings his closed fists together, opens them and then throws them up in the air so I can visualize the explosion.

  “How did you get caught up in foster care?”

  “Got nabbed in an alley fight.” He shrugs. “Made fifty bucks that night—it helps you win when you bet on yourself. But now my name and face are in their system. No big deal, I just have to be smarter than the cops, which isn’t too difficult.”

  He relocks the box and puts the pack back in its safe place. Liam turns and pats his pocket of money. “This’ll be plenty for cheeseburgers, candy bars and milkshakes. Oh, I have an idea for some fun too. You’ll need these.”

  Liam passes me a black, hooded, zip-up sweatshirt. It smells of musk and earth and him.

  “I require your sweatshirt?” I quip to hide how much I like being enveloped in it.

  “And this.” He pulls a purple and yellow Minnesota Vikings baseball cap over my head and helps me tuck my hair inside it. After lifting the hood, he steps back and studies his handiwork. “No one will recognize you now.”

  “Okay then, what do you have in mind?”

  He answers with a smile.

  First thing we do is hop a bus. I follow him to the very back seats, where he puts me on the inside, close to the window, and sits on my other side.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “You’ll see.”

  I make a face at his cryptic answer, but I can’t quell the growing excitement.

  When the bus stops at the Mall of America he says, “This is our stop.”

  “Shopping? I didn’t take you for one who does a lot of that,” I say.

  “Ha. Ha.”

  We go through the heavy glass doors and walk into the wonder that is the biggest shopping center in the United States, maybe the world, for all I know. Liam has a plan, because he makes a beeline to the amusement park.

  “Um …” My gaze travels up the tallest, most frightening and puke inducing rollercoaster ever. “Not doing it.”

  “Sure you are.” He laughs as he pays for two tickets.

  “It’ll make me sick for sure.” Vomiting is not attractive.

  “That’s why we’ll do lunch afterwards.”

  That’s faulty reasoning, I think as he begins to walk up the ramp to the line.

  I grab his arm in desperation. “I’m serious … I’m scared.”

  “Have you ever ridden one?”

  “No,” I admit.

  “Trust me, by the middle of the ride you’ll be screaming in excitement.” He looks at me with this—I don’t know—this look, like everything is going to be okay.

  I walk with him into the line. “I appreciate your confidence … sort of.” The damn machine stands all the way to the ceiling.

  “Are you afraid of the height or the motion?”

  “Yes.” I nod solidly.

  He laughs. “Good … maybe you’ll need to hold my hand.”

  Hold his hand? He wants me to hold his hand?? I turn my face to the side as I feel the blood rise and paint my cheeks with a rosy flush.

  We climb into the rollercoaster, and the bar comes down over our shoulders and between our legs.

  “You should see your face!” he cackles. “You look terrified!”

  “If I don’t die, I’m going to kill you!”

  As the ride begins, I feel Liam’s fingers prompting my hand to open. I open my fist and his fingers twine through mine.

  The rollercoaster throws us and spins us; it lifts us and drops us. The force and gravity tries to pull our hands apart, but we hold on for all we’re worth. It is the most frightening, exhilarating feeling ever!

  We finally stop. I’m still alive, shockingly.

  The security harness lifts. I take a tentative step forward, but am totally unsteady.

  “Sick?” Liam asks.

  “Not sure what I am,” I say, struggling with my balance. “Walking might take a minute.”

  He laughs before he pulls me up onto his back and carries me piggyback through the mall.

  When the vertigo does recede, I don’t tell him. I like the feel of my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms draped over his shoulders, which are broad and strong. I breathe in his shampoo and soap.

  “Did you like it?” he whispers to the side where my head rests.

  “Yes.” I really like being so close to you.

  “Want to do it again?”

  “Absolutely not,” I answer, and am met with his happy laughter.

  He marches us to the elevator. There’s a crowd waiting to get on. We wait with them.

  “You can put me down now,” I whisper, a little embarrassed over all the stares we’re attracting.

  “Nope,” he says. “I like you just like this.”

  “Liam …” I hiss.

  The elevator doors open, and in we go.

  “She got sick on the rollercoaster, but don’t worry, folks, she’ll be alright,” he tells the people boarding with us.

  “Oh my God! Are you crazy?” I whisper.

  �
�Probably.”

  We’re quiet until we stop at the food court.

  “You have to be tired. You really can put me down.”

  “I know,” he says. “I just keep thinking of yesterday, when I was dealing with Dylan and you ran off and I wondered what would happen if I couldn’t find you.”

  “You wondered that?” I feel those tingles in my belly again.

  “Yup.”

  All of a sudden, he steals the rationality from my mind. It’s all I can do to halt the giggle before it comes out.

  We make it to Burger King and he orders two Whoppers with cheese and chocolate shakes. He also gets onion rings and French fries. He sits me on the hard plastic table, goes back to grab the tray of food and sits across from me.

  “Dig in,” he says without formality.

  We do.

  Starving, I lift the lid to my shake and dip a fry into the thick, creamy chocolate.

  “”Really?” he asks, seemingly entertained and perhaps disgusted.

  “It’s good,” I say, tempting him with the milkshake fry.

  “No thanks, I’ll stick to normal things like ketchup.”

  “You made me ride a rollercoaster, and you won’t taste an ice cream fry?” I’m incredulous.

  He shakes his head no, but I’m not about to let him off that easy. I’m overwhelmed by the urge to mess with him.

  “You leave me no choice,” I warn.

  “Oh yeah?” He grins.

  I swipe the fry across his face so a line of chocolate goes from one cheek across his lips to the other cheek. It’s like I’ve given him a giant chocolate smile.

  He smirks and nods slowly and I get a little nervous. He’s definitely up to something. “Oh, you asked for it.”

  Five fingers covered in ketchup latch onto my face.

  “NO!!!” I howl.

  He laughs and smears the ketchup down my nose.

  I move quickly, lift the lid to his shake and dive my entire hand into it! Liam and I both start laughing uncontrollably. I jump into the seat next to his. When he tries to duck and dodge my cold, chocolaty hand, I miss his face, but instead I get to rub it into his hair. Oh, it’s satisfying!

  “Truce! Truce!” Liam calls.

  I have a feeling it’s a fragile truce. “What are the terms?”

  “No more shake or ketchup war,” he declares, “and I agree to taste your disgusting chocolate fucking French fry.”

  “Thank you.”

  We grab a handful of napkins and mop the ketchup and chocolate off ourselves as best we can. When Liam helps me wipe a bit off the side of my face, I just about melt at the sensation of his fingers on my skin. I’m fairly certain I still have ketchup in my ear canal, but I really don’t care at this point. I don’t even care that people are staring at us. This moment is worth it. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun!

  Once we’re both cleaned off, I dip a fry and give Liam a pointed stare. He opens his mouth and I shove the fry in. First he starts to gag and holds his throat like he’s choking to death, then he falls to the floor.

  “Stop it! You’re drawing even more attention to us!” I’m laughing so hard and so much I can’t catch my breath.

  He acts normal again, looks around at the people near us and announces real loud, “I’m okay, folks, nothing to worry about. Enjoy your meals.”

  I slap his arm before I move back to my own seat. “You’re crazy.” I smile.

  He smiles back. “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

  We get back down to the business of eating. He wolfs his burger down so fast it makes my head spin and then gets back up and orders another.

  A few girls at a nearby table watch him stride over, then put their heads together and giggle. Can’t say I blame them, he really is that gorgeous.

  When we’re finished, he grabs our trash and drops it in the garbage pail.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he says brightly.

  “Another one? If you think you’re getting me on another ride after I just ate …” I shake my head, showing him he’ll be disappointed. “Worst idea ever.”

  “That isn’t it.” He starts walking away.

  I catch up. “Okay then, where are we going?”

  “Do I need to carry you again?” he asks in a playfully warning tone.

  Yes. “No.”

  “Quinn,” he says, his tone suddenly totally serious, “duck into the clothing store, right now.”

  I don’t have to be told twice. As I turn into the store, I can see the two police officers walking towards us. My heart thuds powerfully as I run walk between the racks of clothes.

  “Can I help you find something?” a helpful salesclerk asks.

  I snatch up something on a hanger. “Dressing room?”

  She points to the back of the store and I move my ass to hide behind the closed door. I have a mixed sense of security from the fragile hook locking the door that seems to be my only defense. It makes me feel like a pheasant hiding in a scant bush with the hunter and his rifle inching closer.

  Sitting silently, I try to think of anything but the possible fate about to befall me. I try not to think of St. Anne’s and how I should have never come out with Liam.

  A few minutes later, I hear, “Damn, you know how to hide.”

  It’s him.

  “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

  “I don’t blame you. Coast is clear now.”

  “No, I can’t stay here, I have to go …” The word home hovers pathetically on the tip of my tongue.

  “Don’t freak. You’re going to like what’s next,” he assures me.

  “I don’t think so, Liam.” It’s like the protective bubble I’ve been feeling has burst. I need to go back to my hiding place.

  “Whatever happens, you can’t stay in the dressing room. The lady is definitely starting to look over suspiciously.”

  “Shit.” I come out while making sure I hold the shirt I grabbed away from me so she can see I didn’t try to stuff it in my jacket. That’s all I need is to have her call the cops or mall security because I lingered too long.

  “Do you like that shirt?” Liam asks me.

  “I don’t know.” I never really looked at it.

  I do now as I hang it back on the rack. “It’s pretty.” It is. Light blue, a low v-neck and midriff cut—it would show my bellybutton. I’d have nowhere to wear it. “Not much use for it under a bridge.”

  “Would you wear it if you owned it? It’s sexy. Is it your style?”

  “Yes, I’d wear it.” I punch his arm. “Shut up!”

  We take off and walk quickly to the end of the mall towards the exit. But instead of turning towards the door, Liam grabs my arm.

  “Detour,” he says and pulls me through the double doors of the mall’s cinema.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I still have money to burn and I want to burn it on you.”

  I look behind us. “Liam, the police could come back.”

  “They’re not going to be looking for you, or anyone for that matter, in a dark theater,” he reasons. “Anyway, after the movie we can go out the theater exits, which lead directly outside, and it’ll be dusk.”

  “You have a point,” I concede.

  “Of course I do,” he states smugly. “And this movie is supposed to rock!”

  A second later he speaks to the guy behind the glass ticket partition. “Two for Cellular.”

  I look towards the marquee to check out the signage. The movie stars Chris Evans and Kim Basinger—and has something to do with a cell phone. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a movie.

  Liam buys a vat of buttered popcorn, a Coke and a jumbo sized Snickers bar for us to share. Perfect.

  We find seats near the front of the theater. When it goes dark, Liam’s hand finds mine again. The movie is great—scary and thrilling—but the biggest thrill by far is Liam holding my hand. Again.

  *****

  2015

  Quinn


  I did it on purpose, coming here to The Core. I hoped so hard I’d see him; maybe he’d be working out with the kids, or by himself—I’d be able to get a glimpse of him, remember what he felt like, resurrect the memory of his love and pretend it was still alive to help me get through this.

  But I hadn’t expected being trapped inside this little office, where I couldn’t escape the heat of his anger and the burning pain in his eyes.

  I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I swallow it. He doesn’t want to hear it, it’ll just sound like another lie, another betrayal from someone who told him they loved him and then left.

  It’s all too much too fast.

  My mom is dead. She made her choices, and now, for us, the past is completely unredeemable.

  And here’s Liam. I made my own choices—choices that didn’t include him—and now for us … the past is …

  I turn away from him as the tears come hot and fast. The word unredeemable sticks in my throat, cutting off my oxygen.

  Oh God, what he must think of me … how much he must hate me.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” He speaks, but it’s soulless.

  “I appreciate that,” I respond, just above a whisper.

  Two men crash through the doorway and I can’t help but look. It’s Ryder and Talon.

  Do they hate me too?

  “QUINN!!” Ryder scoops me into a suffocating bear hug. “Look at you, girl! Damn, you grew up beautiful.”

  “There wasn’t any doubt that you would.” Talon smiles, and I’m so grateful for the peace I feel in him and in his expression. He grabs me away from Ryder and into a welcome-home kind of embrace. Talon could always sense people’s moods and somehow make things better—it was like his superpower.

  “Quinn’s mom passed away this week,” Cade tells them. “She’s here for the funeral.”

  “Damn, Quinny, I’m sorry.” Ryder takes my hand and holds it.

  I smile in spite of the pain. “No one’s called me Quinny for a long time.”

  He smiles back and I’m grateful for the friendliness in it. God knows I could use a friend right about now.

  “Ten years,” Liam states coldly.