Caleb

Hailey stopped fighting.

Didn’t matter that I'd pinned her down or started taking her clothes off, she just, let me. She let me do whatever I wanted with her. I untied her hands, wishing she would’ve hit me, wishing she would’ve stopped me so I had an excuse to.

But she didn’t. She didn’t even have enough strength left to sit up straight.

Liam got what he wanted—he made me look like a monster and stole Hailey’s fight without even trying. Seeing her wither away in my arms made me feel like less than nothing—like I was worse than Liam to her.

Right before she passed out, she stared up at me, through me, making sure I knew that whether I went through with what Liam asked me to or not, that she’d never forgive me for it. But God, I wanted her to, even if I didn’t deserve it.

        “Are you waiting for the Pope’s blessing, Caleb? Strip her down!”

Liam had a habit of running his mouth whenever I choked. The son-of-a-bitch knew I couldn’t do this—that I wouldn’t do this, but he pushed me harder anyway. Hailey’s clothes were frozen solid. I could barely cut through her shirt anymore.

My hands got to shaking so bad that I couldn’t even keep his knife straight. Maybe it was God trying to tell me something, but He wasn’t the one standing in the room with me.

        “Liam, I can’t do this.”

        “Don’t you say it, don’t you dare. We had an agreement, Caleb,” he said.

Marcus stepped off the wall to try to set things straight, to try to reason like he always did. It wasn’t gonna work.

        “Leave it, Liam. We’re not here for that,”

      “We’re not. He is. Haven’t you seen how he’s been acting around her all day? Playing hero for the hostage? If he screws the tramp, he’ll be over it and then maybe he’ll take his priorities out of his pants and focus on our family.”

        “She’ll freeze to death before he does anything like that, Liam. Leave him alone,” Marcus said.

Liam stuck his hand into his back pocket, pulled out Rusty’s pistol, cocked it, and pointed the barrel at the center of Marcus's head.

       “What’s this? The preacher’s fallen silent and the congregation’s suddenly all ears. Speak up, Marcus, what is it you were saying about going too far?”

Liam never bluffed about much of anything. He’d shoot the three of us if we tried to reason with him when he already had his mind made up—family or not. Maybe he’d lost too much blood. Maybe he’d lost it all together

        “I’ll do it, just take the gun off Marcus. I’ll do whatever you want, just get that thing out of his face,” I said.

Liam took his eyes off Marcus, who was whiter than I'd ever seen him, and turned his head towards me, eyes sunken—pupils bigger than dimes.

He looked possessed, like the common sense he was born with died at the start of today. Ma would’ve lost it seeing him like this. If she hadn’t died so young, the four of us would’ve sent her to an early grave. We weren’t anyone’s sons anymore.

        “Atta’ boy Caleb. Don’t worry we’ll have lots of fun with the girl, just you and me. Marcus! Cillian! Piss off and go watch for cops outside. Caleb and I are gonna spend some quality bonding time together.”

Liam waved Marcus and Cillian in the direction of the door with the pistol. Marcus hesitated, lingered a little longer than he should've, but he couldn’t do anything else at gunpoint but listen.

Cillian's face contorted itself until something like worry settled in. But he hardly ever concerned himself with me. He didn’t emotionally involve himself in much of anything, so if he gave a damn this time around, the situation wasn’t going anywhere good.

My stomach knotted up once the metal door closed behind my brothers. I was out of ideas. Now that Liam had me backed into a corner, he'd force me to do what I’d agreed to. But I didn’t want to touch her.

Thinking about even laying a hand on Hailey made me sick. I swallowed the bile building in the back of my throat. Liam kept his eyes on me, watching, waiting, wishing I’d turn into half the nightmare he was. I wouldn’t. We were better than this. She deserved better than us.

I should’ve let her catch her train. She should’ve been home with her Ma, not passed out on a steel floor in the middle of nowhere. I could’ve let her go. I wouldn’t have known about her, she wouldn’t have known about me. Simple.

Liam always said that regretting things was a waste of time, but I regretted everything I’d done to this girl. I wished there was a right way to tell her how sorry I was, but there probably wasn’t one.

        “Snap out of your day dreams, Caleb, and get on with it.”

Liam turned the gun towards me and fired twice. The first shot whizzed past my shoulder and hit the wall. The second burned the top of my ear and sent blood splattering down the side of my face.

        “What the hell are you doing?!”

        “Getting you motivated, little brother.”

My eyes blurred so badly from the pain I lost my balance. Liam laughed while I struggled to stay standing. I wasn't stupid enough to cry, but the throbbing got so bad I could barely get a breath in. I reached up to touch the side of my head and came away with blood-covered fingers. He smiled at me like I deserved it.

        “Cut the heroics, Caleb. I don’t want to have to murder my own brother on the account that he can’t follow orders. C’mon, I’ll turn around if you don’t want me to watch. Either way, someone’s gonna die if you don’t do something soon.”

I did what he said—cut off what was left of Hailey’s shirt with shaking hands and pulled her out of her shorts. My heart beat bruises into my ribs looking at her like that. I couldn't do this. I couldn't touch her. He’d have to kill me before I’d even try.

I did my best to stall— trying to pull my shirt off over a busted ear bought me some time, but not enough. The cold cut into my skin worse than any winter in Manassas. Hailey should've been dead already with this kind of chill in the air.

I lifted her into my arms and held her to me. God, her skin was so cold it stung, but her heart kept beating through those little veins. She needed heat. If I could hold her long enough to figure a way out of here, she might have a shot.

        “Well, look at the pair of you growing up right in front of my eyes.”

       “Turn around. I can’t do this if you’re staring at me.”

       “Suit yourself.”

I fumbled around with my belt buckle long enough for him to buy it.

        “See? This ain't so bad is it, Cal? You’ve gotta trust me on these things.”

He didn’t even hear me coming. I darted straight for him, adrenaline burning through my body quicker than the cold. I climbed his back and wrapped my belt around his neck tight enough to choke him off.

I thought I could take him. I bet on his bullet wound giving me the upper hand in a fight. I bet wrong. He fought like a goddamn pitbull.

Liam kicked off the ground and launched himself backwards, slamming me into the wall so hard I spat blood all over the back of his shirt. The pain ripped through me lighting fast, and I lost my grip on the belt even faster.  The impact shocked the life out of my lungs.

Liam tensed up in the few seconds I gave him to steal the upper hand and crashed backwards into the wall a second time, knocking the wind out of me to the point where I choked. But I didn't let him go. I'd be damned before I did.

He pushed his heels off the ground a third time and something cracked around my left side when my spine hit the steel.

I guess I blacked out somewhere between standing and hitting the floor 'cause I couldn't even remember falling to my knees, just the pain ripping through my ribs. The air was too cold and too thin to fill my lungs fast enough to keep up with Liam anymore.

He turned around to face me, reached down and clamped his hand around my neck so he could lift me up to eye level like Dad would've.

Dizzy panic washed over while I kicked my feet like a guy in the gallows. Liam leaned in with one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle to pin me to the wall while he clicked off the safety on Rusty's gun and fired a round into the air.

        “Try not to scream, little brother.”

I smelled my skin burning before I felt it. Liam shoved the mouth of his pistol into the side of my neck without blinking. My nerves exploded, and I broke out into the kind of scream I didn't think he'd ever bring out of me.

The louder I got, the harder he pushed the iron hot metal into my skin. He never took his eyes off me, and even through all my chaos and tears, I saw how cold they were—colder than the air. He could've killed me if wanted to, he was thinking about it behind that stare.

I didn't want anyone's help, but I needed it. I needed Marcus or Cillian to stop him, 'cause if they didn’t—

        “That new tattoo I gave you is for the police, Cal. They’re gonna need all the help they can to identify your corpse.”

Liam pried my mouth open, and shoved the end of his pistol between my teeth.

        “Liam, pl—"

Click.

Click.

Click.

        “You better thank God for that, Caleb, ‘cause next time, I’ll be sure to put a bullet through your skull. You’re a traitor in this house, so I’d suggest you prepare for what’s coming to you, little brother.”

He swung his arm out and sent the barrel of his pistol crashing into my forehead. Blood spilled from the cut and seeped into my eye 'til it burned to blink. I couldn’t fight anymore.

My legs gave out again, and I fell to my knees, shaking beyond the point of being able to control it, just waiting for the next hit to come. It never did.

He stared at me for a long while, thinking about God knows what, probably making up his mind whether or not to put a bullet between my eyes. He didn't, just spat in my direction and walked out. I didn’t breathe 'til he was gone.

When the door shut, I shattered. Heart and mind all at once.

I tore my hair out.

Slammed my fists against the floor.

Made myself bleed 'til I couldn’t take it.

Sucked in mouthfuls of cold air just to scream it out.

I couldn’t make a goddamn sound.

Just silence and salt water.

That’s what I’d reduced myself to—less than nothing.

The cold hit me full swing and if I didn’t get to a body soon, I'd die kneeling right where I was. I crawled over to Hailey, wrapped her in my t-shirt, took off my pants, and slid her into them so she could keep her legs warm.

I pulled her to me and rubbed her arms to try to heat her up. None of it seemed to make much of a difference.

If she came to and found me holding her like this she’d probably never let me near her again. She’d probably misunderstand everything. She’d definitely misunderstand me.

But even with all that, I wanted to get her back to the point where she’d be conscious enough to misunderstand. That was good enough for me.

Looking down at her as frozen as she was, kinda felt like staring at a snow globe. All you gotta do with those things is turn them upside down and wham suddenly everything inside is chaotic and beautiful.

Hailey’s lips were all busted up and swollen, and she had more cuts and bruises on her body than a roughed up street kid. I’d never seen a princess turn prizefighter, but she was the kind of girl who had more bite than she got credit for.

After taking the worst beating of her life, she’d passed out swinging. Maybe it was the light, or maybe the cold was making me crazy, but strange as it sounded, she looked like a thousand little plastic snowflakes to me.

Chaotic and beautiful.