Burn (Brothers of Ink and Steel #2)

by Allie Juliette Mousseau

  “Christ, you’re freezing. Now stop fucking fighting with me, I have a good idea.” He takes my bare hand in his and stuffs them both in his coat pocket.

  I like it—the warmth of our skin together creates a thawing heat inside his pocket. We walk on the outskirts of the city for a while, until Liam stops in front of a 24 hour laundromat.

  We go in. It’s so wonderfully warm.

  And as my eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent overhead lights, Liam leads us to the back of the place, next to the cement wall.

  We carefully step past a homeless guy who is lying on the floor, bundled up in a blanket.

  That makes me seriously nervous. Liam catches me eyeing the guy.

  “I’m here, you don’t have to worry.”

  I nod then think of his back. We need to do something about those wounds before they get infected. Plus, I know he has to be in a lot of pain, even if he doesn’t want to show it.

  Looking around I spy a sink.

  “Take off your coat,” I tell him. “And turn around.”

  He does. The blood from his wounds has soaked through his t-shirt.

  “We need to clean your back.” I go to the sink and find soap and paper towels.

  When I walk back over, Liam has removed his shirt and sits on the floor with his head cradled in his hands.

  “It didn’t hurt until we stopped running,” he admits.

  I move around him to examine his back. My heart lurches in my throat. He has horrible, swelling welts crisscrossing his back from the hose and jagged rips from the metal hose end. Gently, I clean the blood and sweat. I can feel Liam flinch, but other than that, he stays incredibly, and eerily, still and quiet.

  Silent tears spill from my eyes. At this moment I hate the human race.

  In the wake of such evil, it’s hard to believe in anything or anyone good.

  But then I think about how Liam and I both protected each other and wonder … even if everyone else in the world is evil, maybe we can be good together.

  “Thank you, Quinn.” Liam’s voice is soft and unsure.

  I can’t think of a moment since I met him that he sounded unsure. I want to comfort him, but I don’t know the best way.

  “It’s good that you had your emergency backpack ready.” I open it and pull out a fresh t-shirt for him. “You should try to get some sleep.”

  “I’ve slept enough,” he says with a far off look in his eyes. “Here,” he balls up his coat and sets it in his lap. “Rest your head. By the time you wake up I’ll have figured out another arrangement.”

  I think of something I want to do to comfort him, but when I play it out in my head it feels … clumsy and silly.

  Forget it, I tell myself and lay down.

  I feel the weight of his arm as he lays it protectively over me.

  I can’t not do it. I feel compelled. Sitting on my knees, I get face to face with him and lay my palm on his cheek. My body shakes with the action.

  “I’m so sorry that they did that to you. You didn’t deserve it. And if I could take the pain from you, I would.” I slide my hand away and replace it with a soft kiss before I pull back and lay down again.

  I startle awake.

  “You’re okay, Quinn,” Liam’s voice reassures me. My head is still on his lap. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we need to get someplace safer before the sun comes up. The Richardsons probably called the cops.”

  “Okay.” I climb to my feet, not very enthusiastic about having to go out into the cold. “How is your back?”

  “Sucks, but I’ll get through it,” he says. “I found some gear in the lost and found crate.”

  After I get my coat on, Liam starts shoving mismatched mittens over my hands.

  “It’s too cold to go back under the bridge now, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “Yeah,”—he positions a black knit hat on my head—“but there’s an old abandoned house we can get into a few miles from here.”

  “We don’t have to go near …?” I ask cautiously.

  “Vince’s stomping grounds? Not a chance. I’m not taking you anywhere near that fucking place!” he guarantees, remembering what I told him about my encounter with the pimp and gang leader. “We’ll lay low for the day, and when school gets out, I’ll call Randy and see if he can let us stay at his place. His mom works a lot of double shifts at the all-night diner on 3rd Street. She usually brings home good leftovers.”

  I nod and we step out into the cold.

  We get a mile into our walk, when a police car goes by on the other side of the road.

  Liam carefully looks behind us once it’s past. “If we get separated, Quinn, get yourself to 411 Huron Street. No one has been living in it for the past year. Get into one of the upstairs bedrooms—stay out of sight and away from the windows. I’ll meet you when it’s safe.”

  “You think they’re going to turn around.”

  “I think we need to be prepared if they do.”

  Adrenaline is rising through me. A moment later, we both see the blue lights reflected in the windows around us.

  Liam says, “Run through Park Alley and then double back. Cut in between the houses and stay off the roads. Do you hear me?”

  I nod. I don’t trust my voice.

  He uses his hand to tilt my head towards him. “I promise I’ll come back for you.” I feel the pressure of his lips press over the hat as he kisses my forehead. “Run now.”

  The second after I bolt, the cruiser’s sirens howl, slicing and echoing through the early morning quiet.

  I run as fast as I can and as long as I can without slowing down and pray to the angel that neither of us will get caught.

  I follow Liam’s instructions until I can’t hear the sirens anymore. My lungs are burning, my side is hurting and my muscles are aching when I finally have no choice but to slow my pace.

  A yellow school bus picks up a group of kids waiting at a stop. I hide behind an old car and watch, burning with jealously—jealousy that I’m not one of those kids, that I won’t be going to school today or meeting Liam in the hallway for a stolen kiss next to my locker. I’m jealous that they came from their warm beds and protective parents who kissed them goodbye and told them to have a good day.

  I sink into my hiding place and wait.

  It’s an hour later when I turn down the alley behind Huron.

  I hang for a while, watching the house. I don’t see anything going on in it, or around it, and there are no cars in the surrounding homes’ driveways. Maybe—hopefully—everyone went to work.

  Holding my breath, I move through the backyard and get to the doorway. The window on the door is shielded by a curtain, and I can’t see inside. I work the knob carefully.

  “Shit!” It’s locked! “Now what?”

  I’m at the back of the house—moving around to the side or front doesn’t seem smart. I press my eyes closed and do the only thing I can think of. I knock on the door.

  I practice what I’m going to say if someone answers. “Hey, I’m wondering if you saw a black kitten? We lost her last night.” I whisper it over and over, while I coax my heart to calm down.

  No one comes.

  “Okay, now what do I do?” I worry the inside of my cheek. I hope to God Liam is right and the house is empty.”

  I find a rock and use it to break through the glass and then reach in and turn the lock. Opening the door slowly, I put my head in first. This door goes to the kitchen, and I can see all the way through the dining room into the living room.

  A big sigh of relief blows out of me.

  There’s no furniture. It’s empty.

  Carefully, I let myself in and close the door behind me. My heart doesn’t stop pounding for some time, and I don’t go any further, just in case someone does respond to the breaking and entering I’ve now gotten myself into.

  Once I feel more secure, I walk soft-footed through the lower level. It’s cold; I watch my breath steam in front of my mouth.

  I’m confident no one is her
e.

  Luckily the water is still on in the house. First thing I do is use the bathroom; second thing I do is stick my head in the sink and drink from the faucet until my stomach hurts. There are no towels and the water is like ice, which means it tastes good, but there is no way I can wash up.

  I tip-toe up the stairs. Honestly, I’m terrified. Just because the downstairs was clear doesn’t mean the upper floor is. If Liam knows about this place, who else does?

  The floor creaks, and panic races up my spine, but the sound is only from my own footfalls.

  The quiet is eerie, and after checking through the barren bedrooms, I curl up like a ball in the closet, in case someone else comes in from the cold.

  I have nothing here to do or to entertain me. Since my mind isn’t occupied, it starts wandering to crazy shit—like when my mom was gone for days on end. How I’d be afraid and do exactly what I’m doing now. I’d pretend that she came home, what she’d say—if she’d been a good mom—how we’d bake chocolate chip cookies and she’d give me a handful of chocolate on the side. She’d hug me and kiss me on top of my head.

  Liam kissed me on the top of my head. I don’t think anyone ever has before. I don’t remember it, if they did.

  Did he mean anything by it? Why would he have done it if he hadn’t? What if he doesn’t come back? What if he decides that I’m not really worth it and that it would be easier for him to go to his friend’s without me? Maybe he was hoping we’d get separated all along.

  “Oh God, what if he got caught?” I whisper into the dark of the closet. Would they hurt him? Would he be in trouble for defending himself against his foster parents? Would they even believe him?

  I hug my knees to my chest. The idea of Liam in cuffs at the station, or even behind bars, could be a reality! He’d be gone. They’d send him to a boys’ home, and I’d never know.

  “Don’t think like that, Quinn, it’ll make you crazy,” I chastise myself.

  Oh, shit! What if he tells them where I am? That’s what they do—they pressure and scare people into giving up information. That could totally happen.

  I’m cold and afraid and tired—such a sucky combination. I stink too. I want a shower. I want to change my clothes. I want to have something to eat, because my stomach is growling angrily.

  I want someone to tell me they love me and prove it.

  Staying as tightly rolled as I can, I lay on the icy closet floor and rest my head on my arm. I imagine this house is filled with beautiful furniture and heat and delicious smells. I pretend I’m Liam’s wife and I just got home from work. I’m a school teacher, and he’ll be home from work soon. He’s a tattoo artist and even owns his own art gallery in the city.

  I wake up abruptly. I hate that. I didn’t realize I’d even fallen asleep. There is zero concept of time in here, since it’s pitch dark and the closet door is flush to the floor. But it feels like I’ve been here forever. I have to go to the bathroom. I’m about to move when I hear the familiar creaking of the stairs.

  My heart pounds. Liam!

  But then, fear injects into my veins. What if it isn’t?

  Footsteps come closer and I hold my breath.

  If it was Liam, why wouldn’t he call out my name?

  Whoever it is, they’re coming towards the closet. I can hear them getting closer.

  If that door opens, I’m rushing out to knock whoever it is over. Maybe I can get away.

  I hear the knob wriggling. I cover my mouth with my hands and fight the urge to scream.

  When the door opens, a pinpoint of illumination from a flashlight shines in. I throw myself out of the closet and crash into a hard body. The light jerks and scatters, and I hear and see a large pizza box fall and slide across the floor.

  “Quinn!”

  “LIAM!?”

  “Chill! It’s only me!” Liam puts a hand over his stomach where my head hit. “Jesus, that fucking hurt!”

  “Why didn’t you call my name? WHY DID YOU SNEAK UP HERE LIKE THAT?” I shove him with both hands.

  “Because I didn’t even know if you’d made it or if you would’ve stayed this long!” he says, checking to make sure the pizza stayed in the box. “It’s bad enough I’m in here with a flashlight, I didn’t need to be yelling.”

  “Yeah, well next time, at least whisper, ’cause if I’d had a weapon I’d have used it!” I slap his chest hard.

  He laughs then gets serious. “You waited for me.”

  “Yeah, well, I started thinking you weren’t coming back,” I snap. “Why did you?”

  “Why did you wait?” he counters.

  “I asked first.”

  “I promised I would.” He reaches out and strokes the locks of my hair that hang out from the hat. “I always keep my promises.”

  I take that in. He really came. But … “What took you so long? Did you get caught? Are you hurt? And, oh my God, that pizza smells amazing!”

  “Come on and eat, I’m sure you’re starving.”

  I am!

  Liam makes sure the curtains are pulled tight across the windows as we sit on the floor with the light between us shining across the floor only. Our faces are bathed in shadows as the two of us scarf down the pizza.

  “I didn’t get caught, but came close to it. When you ran, I stayed so I’d be a distraction. Once I figured you were far enough out of the way, I made them chase me.” He smiles like he’s all that. He deserves to. He shoves half a piece of pizza into his mouth and says with a full mouth and a smile, “Now we’re both wanted.”

  He looks totally proud of us.

  Wanted by the law, on the streets of the twin cities in October. That’s not a good scenario.

  “Oh! I went back and got you this.” He gets up, grabs my trash bag of stuff and sets it next to me.

  “Oh my God! Thanks!!” I open the bag, shine the light inside of it and check the contents. “How?”

  “Your hiding spot was a really good place to lay low until dusk, when I felt confident about getting here.”

  “What time is it? And what happened with Randy?”

  “Randy’s mom is home tonight. He gave me a key to get in tomorrow when she’s gone. We just need to be careful and keep you hidden. It won’t be too hard—I’ve hidden there an entire month before.” Liam dangles the key so I can see it.

  “Too bad we couldn’t go to California or Florida or somewhere warm. It would be so much easier,” I muse.

  “That could be arranged,” he says confidently.

  “How?” I don’t believe him.

  “Remember the treasure box I showed you—where I kept the money?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I also have a lot of … hot items I can pawn.”

  “You’re a thief?”

  “Small time. Each foster home I’m in—if they suck—I take something of value I can get money for. If they’re real assholes, like the Richardsons, I take extra and don’t even feel guilty.”

  “That’s how you got the pizza?”

  “Yup. I have another way to earn fast cash too—and a lot of it. Last year I tried getting a legit job, but no one would hire me—too young, no address, no adult signature—so I found a fight club downtown.”

  I shudder. Downtown is Vince’s domain. “A fight club?”

  “Yup, I’m tough and quick, so the gamblers like putting money on me. I made over two thousand dollars this summer for only five fights!”

  “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “Yeah, but it’s pain I’m in control over.” He eyes me intently. “Would you really want to go somewhere else? Somewhere warm?”

  “I didn’t think about it seriously.” I stare into my cheese pizza slice. “This is the first winter I’ve been out without a place to stay.”

  All of a sudden, my pizza is ripped from my hand and Liam has me pinned to the floor.

  “Stop being so serious!” He holds both my wrists in one of his hands above my head while his fingers press mercilessly into my ribs, making me laugh uncontrollabl
y.

  But there’s another sensation besides the tickling. His thighs straddle my hips as he squeezes me. It sets fire to other areas of my body and causes me to ache for his touch in another way.

  As if he senses this, he stops his tickle assault as our gazes pierce into each other. We’re both out of breath and feeling a new, deeper tension.

  He breaks it first. “There.” Liam pushes up and away from me. “Now … if we want to run away to Florida, there’s nothing stopping us.

  I remember him close to Tina and a rush of jealousy makes my face hot.

  “I can set up a few fights while we stay at Randy’s. By next month, we’ll have enough money to get the fuck out of here.”

  I grab my pizza, shove it in my mouth and mumble, “Sure you want to take me with you?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Dumbest question ever.”

  *****

  2015

  Quinn

  Present

  My fingers trace the grooves of the carving Liam knifed into the back of the headboard of what used to be his bed at North House years ago.

  Liam and Quinn FAA

  Forever and Always.

  Who knows how many kids have slept in this very bed over the years? But it’s still here.

  “I never could replace it,” Cade says from behind me, as if reading my thoughts.

  A bittersweet smile stretches the corners of my mouth. I remember Liam’s love. I remember it every day.

  Cade muses, “The two of you are like my own kids.”

  I know that’s true. He gave us more love than anyone ever had.

  “He hates me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you, sweetheart, he’s hurt.”

  The wood feels rough and splintered against my skin. That’s what we’ve become towards each other—rough and splintered. I betrayed him.

  “I can’t make it better, Cade. He’ll never forgive me.” I let my hand fall to my side. “At least he’s moved on.”

  Cade snorts behind me. “Girl, he has not moved anywhere!”

  I shove the bed back against the wall. “Yes, he has. He has an incredibly successful business with his art, is fighting professionally now, and has a string of women waiting in line.”