Caleb

Through the sliver of a swollen eye, I caught a smile slip between Hailey’s lips from across the room. God knows whether or not that smile was meant for me, but seeing it had me sweating worse than the Manassas heat.

I tensed up just trying to keep the fire in my blood from tearing its way through my skin. Hailey's stare only made things worse, but I hoped she'd mistake my buzz for first-degree burns.

She still had that hundred-watt spark in her eyes, bright enough for me to know Liam hadn't had his way with her. Not yet, at least. Good to see all that fighting was worth something. Even if it just bought her some time.

Marcus had his eyes on the two of us, and I caught the sting of his silence seconds after walking through our front door. I'd played off the fear at first and focused on Hailey instead of on him.

I didn't have to look in him in the eye to know what was going on behind them—something a little like shame and a lot like disappointment. He had a way of looking at people like he could judge them without having to blink. Especially me. The feeling always left me raw, but today, he turned me inside out.

The longer I stayed quiet the more he cracked around the edges. He didn’t need to blink for me to know I was in trouble. Couldn't tell you the last time I wasn't.

For every line I'd put in his forehead, he’d give me at least three flap-jaw lectures as soon as he had the chance to stand and deliver. He liked running his mouth before he fully understood a situation. Didn't matter what the truth was 'cause his truth was law.

He could be as pissed as he wanted, it wouldn’t change the fact that he didn’t know the story. He hadn't been in the field. He hadn't seen anything more then the end of his nose this morning, and none of us had time for his bullshit. Not with a cop in the room.

Cillian hadn't moved from his post on the wall since I'd come back. Didn't even look at me. Didn't even try, but that's just how he was. He didn't bother dealing with things unless Liam told him to.

He didn't do much of anything unless Liam told him to. Never mind that I'd nearly burned alive. Right or wrong, Liam owned this house and everyone in it. Not even outsiders were safe.

Liam caught me out of the corner of his eye, and my blood pressure spiked. Just having him in the room wore me down so bad I didn’t know how long I could hold together at the hinges. He smiled to himself, like he found something funny about the fact that I was still breathing.

Guess I hadn't spent enough time on the wrong end of sanity to find any humor in that.

Back when he'd pinned me down, I kept waiting to see him change. Waiting to see the brother who'd carried me bleeding and broken out of Dad's house 'cause he gave a damn. But now he had that same silent rage in his eyes that Dad did.

He hit me like Dad did. Worse even.

But I tried my best not to feel too bad about it. I tried buying into the idea that this was just how things were and that I could take it. But lying doesn't do much for the soul except make it sicker, and I felt that sickness deeper than my bones.

Liam shifted his focus off his carvings on the kitchen table and over to me. My legs went numb. Didn't matter how hard I tried to look like he didn't scare the skin off me, he sensed the fear like a butcher does when he leads an animal out to the killing floor.

The cop was the only buffer left between Liam keeping his cool or losing his shit. I didn't mind leading the pigs to our slaughterhouse if it meant skipping out on another beating. Good news was, the cop who'd picked me up wasn’t the kind we were running from.

Guess my luck that morning wasn’t ruined, just rusty.

        “Would any of you boys mind explainin’ to me why in the hell I found Caleb half-barbequed and stranded out in your fields this mornin’?"

Rusty cut right to the chase. He’d always been a straight shooter.

Couple years back, I used to walk into town and smoke outside his office hoping he'd catch me. I figured if the sheriff saw, he'd throw me in jail long enough to put some distance between me and dad.

A week went by like that and nothing happened. I thought about giving up, 'til Rusty walked out one Friday, took the cigarette outta my mouth, and told me that I looked like I'd had enough trouble in my life to be gunning for more. He took me to the diner across the street, fed me ‘til I was full, and didn't ask questions.

 We kept that going a couple times a week for a little over a year. Sometimes I'd show, other times I was too beat to make the trip. But he never took it out on me.

I figured he knew my story just from the bruises, but he never pushed me to say anything. I liked that. I liked him so much I tried getting Marcus to come along with me. We made it out together a few times, but Liam found out and made us stop before the cops got nosey. Me and Marcus quit going after that.

I still wish I hadn't.

The minute Marcus figured out that Rusty hadn't come in guns blazing with the feds on the phone, the stiffness slipped right out of his spine.

        “Jesus Russ, I mistook you for one of the other boys at the station. Scared the hell outta me,” he said.

        “Do I look thirty years younger to you, Marcus?”

 Rusty’s Virginia "r's" rolled right off his tobacco-black tongue.

        “Not a day over twenty-five,” Marcus said, his half-assed flattery fell flat on its face.

        “Stop talkin’ and give me a hand with your brother over here please. The kid needs to lie down. ”

Marcus helped me to my bunk with the fakest look on his face I'd ever seen. He smiled at me and Rusty through gritted teeth.

I hit the sheets and sunk into my bed, feeling about as sore and shaken up as I used to around Dad. Sometimes it was hard to believe that things hadn’t changed much. The uglier parts of him still kicked and screamed in my brothers.

I wondered if any of him would end up kicking and screaming in me.

        “I’m gonna have to call somebody about that truck. That’s a nasty accident ya’ll got yourselves into. Good thing I saw the smoke when I did or this boy here would've been long gone.”

Rusty reached over and slapped me on the back. I smiled through the pain.

Liam didn't say a word to the sheriff, just messed around in the kitchen sink long enough to wash the blood and ash off his face. He wasn't trying to hide, just trying to look presentable. 

        “Quite the hero this morning aren’t you Russ? I owe you one for looking after the runt."

Liam sauntered across the room to Rusty like he was glad to see him. He tried his best to keep almost cool, to be almost friendly— but his smile was about as genuine as Sweet N’ Low in black coffee.

        “All you owe me is a good explanation, son. You look like hell," Rusty said.

He checked out the gashes on Liam's face through the bottoms of his bifocals.

        “Afraid I don’t have much of a story for ye’ sir."

Liam turned away in time to block out Rusty's curiosity.

        "I'm sure you can think of something, young man."

Rusty brushed off Liam's bullshit and pulled out his notepad to make record of an accident that needed to stay off the books. Liam spoke up before Rusty’s pen hit the paper.

        “I let Caleb drive the truck, his girlfriend took his attention off the road, and here we are. Victims of reckless young lovers.”

I bit into my pillow to keep from calling his bluff. I caught Hailey out of the corner of my eye turning redder than red. Couldn't tell you if she was mad, embarrassed, or both, but her being on edge meant trouble.

        "When did you get old enough to have a girl, Caleb?" Rusty asked, his eyebrows bunched up into a bush of grey-brown bristles.

He looked like an old grizzly; towering six feet tall over my bed, shading me under the shadow of his food loving figure. Even at his age, he looked like he could knock the snuff outta anybody who pushed him the wrong way.

I used to like thinking that in some other life he might've been a grandfather to me, but today he felt too much like a stranger.

        "I'm almost eighteen, Russ. A guy's gotta partner up sometime," I said.

I didn't have to look at Hailey to know she didn't like a word of what I'd said. God willing, she'd go with it anyway.

        “Caleb, last time I saw you, you were too young to know how to drive, boy!"

         "Still is, apparently."

Cillian threw in his two cents and laughs ricocheted across the room.

        “Who’s the unlucky lady, son?” Rusty asked.

His voice went sour for a second, enough to give away his suspicion. Marcus flew over to Hailey and led her over to Rusty by the small of her back.

        “Lovely, ain't she? Too good for him right?” he said.

Marcus sounded like he was almost enjoying himself. As long as he had me to pick on, he'd be fine. Rusty gave Hailey a one over, hands resting around his pork-belly-stretched utility belt, and introduced himself like he was seventeen years old and fifty pounds lighter.

        "Young lady, I apologize for not greetin’ you earlier, that man of yours is a handful. I’m Russell. Call me, Rusty."

Hailey stuck her hand out a little too quickly.

        “I'm Hailey. Hailey Anderson. Very nice to meet you.”

Rusty leaned in to get a better look at her.

        "She's too pretty for you, son! She looks like wife material for a businessman, not a roughed up Manassas boy. How'd she end up with you? You drug her?"

Rusty laughed so hard his voice bellowed through the rafters. I shot up out of bed the second he scratched the surface of the truth.

        “It was something about the way he kissed me. He swept me off my feet like a black market sedative," Hailey said.

A smirk scrambled across her face like she was proud of herself. Nobody in the room but her found anything funny about a threatening sense of humor. Rusty was stoic enough to put me on edge.

        “Sounds like he stole your heart, Ms. Hailey,” he said.

        “Kidnapped is a better word.”

Hailey lit a fuse under a harmless conversation. That mouth of hers was a four-way ticket to prison if I couldn’t keep it in check. From the looks of things, I might've been too late.

        “Hailey, sweetheart, would you mind coming with me to the back room for a second?” I said.

Forcing anything like affection out of my mouth was nearly as hard as trying to reach out and hold her hand. She wrestled out of my grip.

      “Did you need help finding the chloroform, hun? I'll take a rain check. Let's save the heist foreplay for later,” she said.

For a second I didn't know if I should shake her or slap her. But for the sake of my family, I kissed her to shut her up. None of it looked right. None of it felt right, and if I knew that, Rusty would too. I pulled away from her and before she could get her hands on me, Rusty stepped in between the two of us.

        "Cool it kids. Kissin’ and fightin’ is fair game for another day, but the both of ya’ll should get those cuts and bruises cleaned up. Ya'll have a first aid kit around here?” He asked.

Rusty ignored me and kept his eyes on Hailey for a couple seconds too long. I should have kissed her sooner.

        “There’s a first aid kit in the back. You coming, Hailey?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes like a stuck-up city girl, but after some pulling I got her to follow me back to the storage space behind the kitchen.

Rusty started in on Liam so quick I stopped what I was doing just to listen in.

        “Boy, take today as a lesson to start takin' better care of those kids. Don't let your brother drive if he doesn't know what he's doin’, alright?"

        "Yes, sir."

Liam mocked an army salute.

        "I'm not playin’ around son. Your brother nearly turned up dead, that young lady's been knocked around, and your smilin’ at me like nothin' happened.”

        “We're alright, Russ, don’t work yourself up over nothing,” Liam said.

Rusty turned Liam towards the light so he could get a better look at his face.

        “Nothin’ doesn’t look like this, boy. You been fightin’? That girl’s got bruises on her that are too big to come from Caleb or that truck.”

Liam slapped Rusty’s hands away.

        “Keep your questions to yourself old man. You’re walking in dangerous territory.”

Rusty flipped Liam around, twisted his arm behind his back, and pulled out his gun from his holster quicker than quick. He pressed the barrel hard into Liam's head, not taking anymore bull than he'd already put up with.

        “I've killed men over less respect than that, boy."

        “Then pull the goddamn trigger and get it over with,” Liam said.

Rusty tightened his grip ‘til Liam flinched. Marcus and Cillian stood dead silent. I hadn't seen either of them that scared or that still in years.

         “You ain’t gettin’ out that easy, kid. I’m just tryin’ to teach you some sense before I take you in. The boys at the big house won’t be so friendly," Rusty said.

        “On what charges old timer? Not wanting your charity?”

Rusty brought his weight down on Liam’s back and forced him onto his knees.

        “Do you think I’m blind to what’s goin on here?! There’s a warrant out from the Feds for the man who kidnapped Caleb’s sweetheart over there.

        “You think I did it? Clear the fog outta your glasses. Caleb made this mess for himself.”

I figured Liam would turn the tables on me. Didn't matter that he'd made that dirty phone call in the first place, he'd let me take the blame.

      “Put a leash on that tongue a’ yours or I’ll bust your jaw. Caleb wouldn't get mixed up in something like this on his own. I know him better than you think, boy.”

        "Say what you will, old man. Speaking behind the safety of that badge doesn't make anything you say anymore true. You don't know who you're dealing with, Rusty."

Liam found himself face down on the wood floor sucking dust through his nostrils.

        “Have all the attitude you want, son. Caleb may be the kid on the Wanted posters, but you’ll take the fall. Believe you me.”

Rusty pulled out his handcuffs and locked the silver links around Liam’s wrists. Cillian and Marcus spoke up to stop him, but Rusty wouldn’t change his mind. Everything was screwed up.

The second Rusty could get his hands on a radio there’d be less than twenty-minutes between the call and the local police knocking on our door. The feds would follow, and there was shit we could do about it now. 

Marcus ran over to Rusty just before he hauled Liam outside.

        “Russ, can you take off the cuffs while he’s still under our roof? That’s the last thing I’ll ask of you as an old friend. Don't take him out like that in front of us. Please,” he said.

Rusty hesitated but undid the cuffs just to let Liam leave the house with the imagined dignity of a free man.

        “Turn yourselves in, boys. Fix this mess you’ve gotten into, take her down to the station, and let us get her home. Things are lookin’ bad for ya’ll either way.”

Rusty looked right at me before he stepped out the door. He didn't have to say anything for me to hear him loud and clear. He'd never not trusted me, he'd never not believed in me. Not until today. And the way things were now I couldn't do anything to fix it.

The front door rattled shut and the room settled into broken silence. The four of us stood deadly still, listening to the muffled scraping of Liam and Rusty's feet against the gravel. Their steps stopped short, and the sudden uproar of bullets scraped scars into my ears.

Two bodies thudded against the dust, and someone's scream rang out into the eerie silence.

Metal clicked against metal, and a second shot thundered across the midday sky. Marcus stepped up to the front door and slid it open, hands shaking so badly I heard his nails rattling against the wood from across the room.

I saw blood, lots of it, spattered all over the ground outside and trailing from a body lying limp and mangled under a relentless sun.

“Liam’s gone,” Marcus said, the light in his voice dying away.

“Rusty’s dead.”