by Vivian Lux
I couldn't afford to start feeling again. Bad things happened when I did.
Ingrid was exactly what I needed. Her shallow stream of constant babble washed over me like a balm. She kept me laughing and gritting my teeth in irritation. Especially now.
I stood in her kitchen as she fluttered about her apartment. We were supposed to go out for dinner at this new Vietnamese place she claimed to have 'discovered,' but first she needed to get some cash.
When I suggested to her that we just hit up the ATM on the way there, she had blinked first several moments. "Never mind, I don't want to know," I said, holding up my hands.
"So yeah, there's a guy coming over who owes me money," she said carefully. "Try to be cool okay, Delaney? I told him you were cool."
Her cell phone buzzed and she looked down. I expected her to answer, but she only worked her tongue around her cheek. "Stop calling me," she whispered.
"Who is it?"
She shivered and shook her head. "Restricted number. Some pervert I guess. Whoever it is keeps calling me and not saying anything. Just hangs up. It's creepy."
"That's fucked up, Ingrid," I said worriedly. "You should change your number."
"Too many people have this one," she said, flicking her hair dismissively. "They'll stop when they're bored."
I wanted to press her further, but stopped myself when I saw that Ingrid looked more nervous than I had ever seen her. Her usual preening self-confidence was gone, replaced with a bouncy, nervous agitation that looked a lot like fear.
"So anyway, just need to meet my guy," she sang out breezily, but I wasn't fooled that all. "He's a biker too," she was laughing now, a hysterical little sound, "but don't you go stealing him like you stole Crash, you little slut!"
Her cell phone buzzed and she looked at it in panic, then pressed the door button for way too long. Cracking the door, she looked out into the hallway, her toe tapping so nervously I felt my hands start to shake. Her voice caught as she tried to keep up her normal stream of prattle. "His name is Case by the way and holy fuck he is so hot..,."
"Case?"
I barely had time to realize it before she made a little sound and threw open the door.
There he was.
And he looked like hell.
Despite everything he said, despite everything I had done, and against every rational bone in my body, my maternal instinct kicked in. "Are you okay, Casey?"
"Casey?" Ingrid looked between the two of us. "You know him, Delaney?"
I looked down, "I did."
"Jesus fuck, Delaney. How many more secrets are you going to keep from me? So I guess I don't need my introductions. Case, this is Lexi, Lexi, Case.
"Yeah. I know," he growled. He looked pale and his eyes were rimmed with red.
"Do you need water?" I asked.
"I don't need anything from you." The low menace in his voice made Ingrid step back quickly.
But I was done with feeling bad. "Casey...."
His name from my lips seemed to enrage him. He balled his fists and stepped back into the kitchen, looking everywhere but at my face. "Don't say anything. "
I lifted my chin. "Why? Why shouldn't I get to say something?"
He didn't answer my question, only shivered slightly. "I heard you, you know."
"Heard me?"
His voice rose. "I wasn't asleep. I heard you say you were sorry." He sneered, "Sorry? You're fuckingsorry? Is that supposed to make everything better?" He whirled around to the dishes that were piled in Ingrid's sink and flung a ceramic plate onto the tile floor where it shattered into a million pieces. Ingrid gasped and made a small, strangled crying noise, and I moved protectively in front of her. Case pointed accusingly at the shards. "There. Now, say sorry to it. Tell that plate you're fucking sorry and then maybe it will go back to being how it was."
"Casey," I was surprised at how low and steady my voice was. "I thought by now you would understand why I had to…"
"God dammit," he cried, smashing his fists into the cupboards and fixing his pale eyes on mine. His voice broke raggedly. "When I saw you watch me leave, I thought that it would be the last I ever saw of you, Lexi!"
And with that, his mouth was on mine.
It was violent.
Searing.
Almost painful.
I welcomed it.
I kissed him back with all the resentment, guilt and pent-up feeling of five years of longing for him. We drowned in each other, dancing amidst the shards of plate. "I thought I would never see you again." His voice was a broken thing. "Goddammit, I wanted to never see you again. I hate you." His lips were at my throat, his breath hot against my fevered skin. "I fucking hate you, Alexandra Delaney."
I ran my fingers through that honey colored hair, amazed that it was real and under my fingertips. "I know you do, Casey." I lifted my lips to his throat and he moaned a low animal sound. "You can hate me all you want, but I have never stopped loving you." I dragged my lips downward, tasting him. "Not for one day."
He pressed me against the counter, his fingers kneading my flesh through my jeans. I gasped and moaned to feel myself come alive underneath him, the downward rushing pressure flowing through me and awakening my inner core. I gasped again.
Grabbing his hair, I yanked his head back from my breast and fixed him firmly with my gaze, forcing him to hear what I had to say. "Casey, I loved you enough to get you away from her." He was staring at me, his eyes unfathomable. I shuddered. "I didn't mean to, but I did." Tears were starting to come, "Has it been so bad? Has it really been so bad?"
His eyes blazed at me but he didn't let me go. I couldn't keep myself from smoothing back his hair as he let loose the words in a torrent. "They called me belligerent and unfosterable. I spent two years in a hell hole of a group home before they kicked me out on my eighteenth birthday." His voice was low and dangerous. "I had no where to go. So I lived on the streets for two weeks before I gave up what little dignity I had left and went to Mac." He finally broke his gaze from mine and stared at the floor, swallowing repeatedly. "He took me in."
I was quiet as I tried to piece it together in my brain. "Mac? The guy on the corner that never talked?"
Case stepped back from me, but I wouldn't let go of his hand. "He took me in. And since I had been working for the club as a mechanic unofficially before that, they took me in too." He patted his jacket. "I patched up my own life." He swallowed again and his eyes blazed anew. "But I never saw my brothers again."
The two blond little ghosts who he had cared for more than anything in his life. I had to say their names. "Hunter. Jonah."
He nodded, his eyes bright and blinking. "I have no idea where they are. Who they were with." He spread his hands helplessly. "Are they adopted? Are they in foster?"
"Jesus."
“Yeah, Jesus. " The passing sorrow fled, replaced with blazing anger once more. He shook his head. "I can't believe you're here again."
"I didn't know. How was I supposed to know all this? All I knew was that your mom was hurting you."
"I could take it."
Now it was my turn to be angry. "No! You couldn't!" I grabbed two handfuls of his black t-shirt and ripped it upward.
Instead of the web of scars that I had expected, I was greeted with a mass of tattoos have covered each and every one of them.
He had hidden his old life under his new.
I gaped as I ran my hand over his stomach, tracing the lick of flame that outlined the two names printed in huge Gothic letters. "Hunter. Jonah." And underneath the twisting vines that twined the two names together was a phrase I couldn't identify.
FRATERNITAS ANTE OMNIA.
"What does this mean?" I breathed
He looked down at my finger.
"Brotherhood above all else."
I stared at the words, wreathed in flame. "Why is it all on fire?"
He didn't answer me. Only reached his hand up to my fiery red curls.
Chapter 30
Case
The sound of his name, hisreal name, on her lips was more than he could bear. He hadn't been called "Casey" in years. He couldn't remember the last person to say his real name.
Maybe it was her.
Lexi was in his arms again. Lexi's lips were against his again, and it was like five long years had meant nothing. This was how it was supposed to be. Kissing her was exactly as wonderful as his dreams had remembered. He knew her, his fingers remembered every curve of her body, but they delighted in the new form that they took. Because Lexi was a woman now. A beautiful, loving woman. He couldn't get over how much her face had changed and yet remained the same.
He kissed her with everything he had and he felt her strong, protective love wash over him again, wrapping him up and holding him tightly together. He gravitated to her, his body pulled into her orbit. She was like his instinct. All he wanted was to rejoice that he had found her again.
But his brain would not shut the fuck up.
He screamed at himself to stop it but the hurtful, hateful words would not stop flashing through his mind. Hating her had become a habit too ingrained to break.
"Lexi." He nearly choked when he said her name. She lifted her cinnamon eyes from where they were fixed, reading the tattoo on his stomach over and over again, her eyes bright with tears. Her fingers ran over them, feeling them carefully. He knew what she was looking for, and the scars were still there. The tattoos hid them from view, but they would always be there.
"Casey," she answered him, lifting her eyes and holding his gaze.
If he spoke any further, he was going to ruin everything. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Instead he lifted his hand and tangled it in the wild red curls that surrounded her head like a halo of fire.
She seemed to understand what he wasn't saying. "You know where I live," she murmured, casting her gaze downward.
He found it easier to speak when he couldn't see her eyes. "I do," he muttered against her forehead, pressing his lips to her freckled skin. And then he stepped back, afraid of how far he would take things if he stayed much longer.
"Whaddya got for me?" he grunted in Ingrid's shocked direction.
She squeaked slightly and pulled out the wad of cash. He quickly counted out her cut and fled the apartment without another word.
He needed to get his brain under control. Focus, clear his head. Because something had shifted when he saw Lexi again. He didn't want to hate her anymore.
He wanted her.
He drove like a bat out of hell back to the clubhouse and practically threw the money into the safe. "Thorn!" he bellowed into the garage.
Thorn sprinted over, wiping his oily fingers with a dirty rag. "Yeah, Case!"
"Go set up the targets."
Thorn blinked at him, and Case knew why. It was broad daylight. The sound of gunshots, even in this empty and abandoned corner of the city, was going to bring a lot more attention in the sunshine than it did at night.
But Case didn't give a shit. "Go!" he barked, and Thorn dropped the rag on the floor and hustled over to the empties bin to grab last night's bottles for shooting.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," J. remarked.
Case cast a quick look around the garage. Crash wasn't anywhere in earshot. "I sawher," he muttered.
J. blinked for a moment, and then his eyes widened in understanding. His best friend shot a quick glance over to the bunkhouse where Crash was emerging, wrapped in a towel. "Pipe froze in his building," J. explained. "He's going to be here a bit more than normal."
Case understood what wasn't being said. Until he knew Crash's true feelings about Lexi, it was best to keep discussion of her at a minimum. "He seems pretty down," J. continued in a tone so low Case had to strain to hear it. "You know how he gets, just kinda muttering shit that you don't know whether you're supposed to answer or not."
"Not really," Case said, feeling a twinge of guilt.
J. arched an eyebrow at him. "He does it whenever something's bothering him. Just sort of talks to the air."
"Oh yeah, that," Case lied.
J. nodded. "Ever since the party. I think he and your girl might be on their way out. Mentioned something about being sick of pity. But I'll tell you," he interrupted Case's involuntary sigh of relief, "I have never seen him so hung up on a chick before."
"Ready for ya, Case!" Thorn shouted eagerly.
J. shot him one more significant look as Case turned and grabbed his gun from the locked cabinet. Just one more thing for him to worry about; his loose cannon brother falling for Lexi. Should he tell him, warn him off now?
He stepped out into the parking lot, the gun resting easily in his hand. Thorn was standing off to the side, looking so eager to please that Case couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah sure," he said to the unasked question. "Go grab yourself a piece. Let's see how much time I'm going to have to waste training your ass."
"I've shot plenty of times," Thorn bristled.
"Rifles don't count, country boy. We use handguns,"
Thorn looked like he wanted to argue further but thought better of it and scrambled off.
Case planted his feet on the cleared pavement and took a deep breath of the chill air, filling his lungs with the frozen scent of winter. The sun was shining brightly, warming the roof of the clubhouse so that the air rang with the steady drip drip against the metal roof. The rhythmic clanging steadied him as he raised his gun and cleared his mind.
He squeezed the trigger and the bottle exploded into a million green shards.
"Damn," Thorn gave a low whistle of appreciation.
Case threw back his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "Didn't even need to warm up," he boasted, relishing the admiration in Thorn's eyes.
"My turn?" Thorn planted his feet.
Case watched him critically. "Your left hand shouldn't grip too, it's just there to keep things steady."
Thorn looked momentarily irritated at being criticized. "Like this?"
Case nodded, then paused, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The sound of cars was a constant background noise, but this noise of this car pricked Case's senses. "Hold up," he warned, raising his hand and looking around, trying to find out where the noise was coming from. Something was wrong. Wherever it was, it was coming fast. The screeching tires screamed around the corner.
And then the air exploded. The unmistakable, ear-splitting sound of gunfire. The car sped past them, firing wildly and indiscriminately.
"Down!" Case shouted, tackling Thorn around the legs.
Everything seemed to slow down immensely and he was able to take in the sound of the tires as they screeched around the next corner, the sounds of the indistinct shouting of the shooter, the sound of Thorn's heavy, panicked breathing under him, the footsteps of his brothers as they raced to help.
Case covered Thorn and raised his weapon, trying to get a bead on the shooter. He couldn't take the shot without exposing Thorn to the crossfire. And before he could roll free, the car was gone.
The silence made his ears ring.
J. was at his side in an instant. "What the fuck, you okay man?"
Case nodded, still straining to see the car and where it was headed. "I'm good," he finally grunted as the car disappeared along the waterfront.
"What kind of coward shit is this? " Crash bellowed from the garage. Mac rushed over to Case and put a silent hand on his shoulder.
"They weren't shooting to kill," Case exhaled. "Fucking amateurs, really."
"Who the fuck were they?"
"Fuck if I know. They didn't hit anything." His heart pounding in his chest belied his calm words.
"Holy shit," Thorn gritted as he stood up from the pavement and took his hand from his cheek.
J. and Case turned. J. shouted for Doctor D., while Case was still gaping at the bright red gash that had been opened up across Thorn's cheekbone. "You were hit?" he asked dully.
"Think so...." Thorn was dead pale. He kept touching his cheek and then staring at the blood on hi
s fingers as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Doctor D. came puffing up, his proud beer belly bouncing heavily and his beard streaming over his shoulder. "Shitfire, who the fuck is shooting at us?"
Case had started shaking his head at the doctor's question, but his confusion slowly dwindled as he began to realize. "Our new business," he said slowly, as the doctor snapped on gloves.
The three men stared at him. "You think this was over the pills?"
Case stared at the ground, his mind working furiously. "Maybe pushing ourselves into this game this fast wasn't a wise move," he said slowly, hating every word as he spoke it. Doctor D. was closing the gash on Thorn's face as the kid winced. His grimace sent a bolt of guilt right into Case's stomach. "Maybe I expanded too quickly....stepped on a few toes."
"Fuckers," Mac growled, his voice rusty with disuse. Case felt a rush of gratitude to the older man.
Teach came flying out of the office, his long dreads streaming after him. "Who's hit?"
Case nodded towards Thorn. "I'm fine," the kid called through gritted teeth.
"You're gonna have a badass scar," Crash encouraged him.
"Fuck, your sister is going to kick my ass," J. moaned.
"Shut up," Teach barked and everyone fell silent. "I was in the office when it happened. The fucking phone rang right beforehand."
"Who the fuck was it?" J. demanded.
Teach shook his head. "Cowardly fuckers used a voice scrambler."
"Well what'd they say?"
Teach turned to Case and looked him in the eye. "Have you been keeping tabs on where your pushers are selling?"
Case's heart sank even further. "I..." he began, but Teach held up his hand in exasperation.
"Someone is selling where they shouldn't. The exact words were,‘Keep your little blonde bitch out of our territory.’"
"Little blonde bitch? Who the fuck?" Crash looked at Case for explanation as Case wracked his brain. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams.
"Ingrid," he said slowly. His little go-getter.
"Well, Ingrid needs to be reined in...." Teach was saying, but Case's mind was already far away, the noose of guilt knotted tightly in his stomach.