Somewhere deep inside, I knew I was dreaming again. I always seemed to know, just as I also knew that as much as I might want to wake up, I couldn’t. Not until I saw his face. I had to stay asleep long enough, just to see his face one more time.

We’re boys again, back in the old house on Rance Street. Danny is about seven. I feel a tightening in my chest, remembering what happened, knowing I’m going to have to watch it happen all over again. Danny’s smiling at me and laughing. This part of the dream is so familiar. I love to see him smile, But I can’t smile back. My face is frozen. Unlike my little brother, I know what’s going to happen next…

We’ve been playing together, and the ball has rolled out into the street. I run out to get it. Danny’s not allowed, and it’s my job to protect him. I’m three years older and it’s always been my job.

Dad’s inside with the game on. Last time I went in for water, he’d finished a six pack and was pulling a second out of the fridge. I stood back, well out of his way, waiting for him to finish, giving him space. Yesterday had been bad. The day before even worse. My shirt was sticking to the places that hadn’t scabbed over yet. Once in a while, it pulled loose and I could feel the little cuts start to bleed again.

“Get the fuck outside, Gabe,” he said, slurring the words. I relaxed a little. When I was really in trouble he called me by my whole name, Gabriel. Gabriel Arkaine.

“I told you to keep an eye on Danny, you little shit. I’m not missing the end of this.”

He dropped back into his armchair and I ran back out into the sunshine. Danny was resting under the old apple tree. He was on his side, knees bent, and I knew why. His back was sore too. Not the same as mine, but still sore. Dad would use his belt on Danny. He used his pocketknife on me…

The red rubber ball was resting by Danny’s feet. As he rolled over and started to stand up, one foot caught the ball hard and it shot back out toward the street, flying high and fast. Danny was already up, and moved faster than I did.

Laughing, he took off after it. “Catch me, Gabe!” he cried out, turning to look back at me over his shoulder. “I bet you’ll never catch me…”

I woke up, sucking for air. Danny…! Oh… god, Danny…

I was already sitting upright, my chest heaving as all the old familiar feelings washed through me. Anger… sadness… Guilt. Why the fuck didn’t I catch you…?

I pulled the cotton robe back in place and tied the belt tight. I ran my hands through my hair, and gripped the back of my neck in my hands. Twenty years later and that fucking dream could still bring it all back. It was the only thing in my life that still had power over me…

I lost my brother that sunny afternoon. I lost my father too, when they took me away from him. You could say it was the day that Gabriel died too, and I became Kaine instead. Only my father had ever called me by that name. And I’d never wanted to hear it again.

“You killed my boy, Gabriel,” he’d said, the last time I saw him. “You ungrateful little bastard. You killed my goddamn son…”

They’d found the bruises on Danny, of course. And could distinguish the old marks from the fresh ones made by the pickup truck that hit him. The police had called in a lady holding a clipboard, with a quiet voice and a tired face, who’d asked me to unbutton my shirt. There’d been questions… and photographs of my back. Dad had gone to jail for what he’d done. My punishment for Danny’s death had been a long series of foster homes. And the memories that never left me…

They’d be over for good, once Rance Street was gone. Once the house I’d grown up in was nothing but dust and rubble. My brother was gone. Gone back to dust. And so was my father. The only thing left to remind me of them had to be destroyed too. So that I could finally be free. So that the pain would finally be gone for good…

I stood, pulling in a deep breath and pushing the past back to the past. The day outside was clear and I could feel its warmth through the window glass. I remembered the night before, holding Grace in my arms as her mind and body were lost in the pleasure I’d given her. We had six more days together and there was so much more for her to feel. I needed to watch her experience everything I was going to deny myself…

I stretched, suddenly restless, wanting to take Grace out into the sunshine. I had brought a few sweaters, some jeans. Mrs. S had supplied Grace with everything she could possibly need. I headed down the hall, wondering what she’d say to a long walk, maybe a picnic in the park. In the past, at La Laisse, I’d never left the room until my week was over. Then it had been back to work, back to a life that didn’t include indulgence in anything but hard work.

I opened the bedroom door with an eagerness that surprised me. The bed was empty, the sheets rumpled and twisted. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to wonder what it would have been like, waking up next to her. All pale, golden perfection. It was just one of the many things I had never allowed myself. To wake up next to a woman. But this was the first time it had struck me as something sad…

“Grace?” I called, and headed for the bathroom. The door was open, I didn’t want to surprise her. “Are you in here?”

Frowning, I doubled back, wondering if I’d find her in the kitchen. I didn’t like the idea of her wandering through the suite as I slept. “Grace?”

She wasn’t here. And for a man who was used to being alone almost everywhere, this room felt curiously empty without her. She had to have gone downstairs, but it didn’t seem likely. I felt a stir of annoyance. I’d told her she’d never leave the room without me, after her ugly encounter with Cole last night.

I dressed quickly and headed for the door, wanting to find her, wanting to touch her again. Then I saw it, on the table in the entryway. A note with round, graceful handwriting. I felt a catch in my chest even before I started to read…

I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ll remember the promise I made, but I have to go home.

I’m sorry.

A thousand pictures flew through my mind as I headed for the elevator. Grace on the stage, Grace as her robe fell back and she stood naked and brave as hell up there alone. For the first time, it occurred to me, the bravery it took for a woman to stand up there like that, to sell herself because she needed money. Not knowing what kind of man she could wind up with. Even in a better place like this one, where Mrs. Sparr kept a watchful eye…

The elevator doors slid shut and I could see her green eyes as I’d touched her skin for the first time. I could feel her, smooth and warm and soft in my arms. She’d looked at me with trust in her eyes, even though she hadn’t known if I was worthy of it. She had done everything I’d asked of her… And I’d woken this morning wanting to take her out of the Citadel, into the sunshine. A picnic… Something I remembered from before my mother had died… before the image of her face had started to fade away with time.

The doors opened and I headed down a corridor lined with doors, branching into more hallways. It was early still and quiet. Quiet enough I recognized the sound of her voice. And his.

“You stupid bitch,” I heard him say, “Of course, I recognized you. I know every goddamn thing about you. You and that drunken bitch.” Cole sounded like he was still drunk from last night.

“Even if she gets twenty years, it’s not enough. Not half enough… for what she did to my wife. I saw Claire afterwards, I saw what was left…”

I flattened myself against the wall, anger building into rage. But still, I listened and it all started to fall into place. There’d been a car accident some months back, and his wife had died. The papers had shown pictures of Bastien and Claire smiling at the governor’s ball, the month before she’d been killed.

“I can’t defend her, Mr. Cole. I’m one of the last people who would even want to. But she’s already in jail, and with the case against her… I don’t think she’ll ever be free again. She can’t ever hurt anyone now…”

“But she isn’t going to get what she deserves either. Three squares and a warm bed for the rest of her life. No, it’s not enough. It’s not anywhere close.”

I shifted forward until I could see them. Grace was in her cotton robe, her hair streaming loose down her back. Bastien was close, too fucking close, and leaned in as he leered at her, his black eyes glittering.

“Maybe Kaine bought the cherry last night, but that’s all he fucking got. One night, but that’s over now. And you’ll go up on the block again tonight. I don’t mind getting his leftovers, as long as you make it worth my fucking time.” He reached out for her as I coiled, ready to spring.

“I’m gonna tie you so tight your skin breaks when you move. And then I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t move at all. By then, I just might need to really start hurting you, baby… And you’re going to like it, Grace. You’re gonna beg me to keep it up. ‘Cause if I have to stop, I might just talk to the press. I could give them information… and photographs.. and proof.”

“That Evelyn Tolman, the murderer, has a daughter who’s a fucked-up whore.”