I get Casey back to my place, but I can’t help but feel that the fire inside her has died. She’s walking like a zombie: eyes glassy, and body directionless, if it wasn’t for my arm. I can only hope that there’s a spark of her former personality left in there, somewhere, smoldering, and ready to be coaxed back into life.

But if the fire has gone out inside Casey, it’s burning twice as hot inside me.

The difference is my fire is kindled by guilt, and its fire is ripping through me. Every time I look at her, I see my failure to keep her safe reflected in her green eyes. She will never say it, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. Hell: it burns. I know that if I hadn’t played Casey like I did, then maybe I would have been there for her. Maybe, she would never have been taken.

“Can I do anything for you?” I ask. I feel helpless. Words aren’t my forte, they never have been. I’m a man of action. But action is not going to solve this problem.

Words might help, but I don’t know how to choose which ones to say. I’m stuck. If I choose the wrong ones, then maybe this is all over. I need to get them right.

“A bath,” she replies.

I run it, and Casey slumps against the bath tub, wordless, and staring off into space. She closes her eyes, as if comforted by the white noise of the water tumbling and bubbling into the tub, and her breath slows.

“It’s ready…” I whisper, but she doesn’t respond. I peel off the filthy clothes from her body, tugging where pooled blood and mud has stuck the cloth to her skin like glue. Casey doesn’t respond to any of it. I figure she’s in shock.

“Let’s get you warm, baby,” I say – and I freeze the second the word comes out of my mouth. Baby: Casey’s got me second-guessing myself. I was never like this before she stumbled into my life, and I worry that if she leaves me for good, I’ll be left like this, always doubting myself, always weak.

But she doesn’t react. Hell, she doesn’t say a word.

I lift her gently in my arms, and lower her into the steaming water. I see Casey’s face wince in the reflection in the mirror, but other than that she doesn’t make a sound as the hot water envelops her muscles. The first layer of mud and dirt and blood washes away into the water, turning it into a murky soup. God, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen – even like this.

I keep the water flowing to wash the filth away, and as I wash her, layer after layer soaks off her skin.

I grab the shampoo and soap up her hair. It’s the good stuff. I got it all ordered when I thought things were going good. Silky Smooth or some shit like that. Hell if I know. I usually just rustle a bar of soap up between my palms, run my fingers through my hair, and it’s never done mine any harm. But that’s sure as hell not good enough for Casey.

I dip Casey’s head back into the water, washing the twigs and muck from her hair. I caress the silky red strands, almost trying to wash every hair one by one. Casey’s nipples stand on end as she lays back into the tub, just breaking the surface of the water. My eyes drift over them, drinking in her entire body, but it’s not sexual, this, now.

“Okay, Casey, you’re done…” I say. My voice bounces off the bathroom walls, barely audible over the sound of the still-flowing water. She’s been clean for ages, but I didn’t want to break the spell. After what I did, this might be my last chance to be close to her.

“Get in with me,” Casey whispers.

I freeze, and gulp. I feel like a teenage boy again. “Are you sure?”

She nods.

I pull off my T-shirt. It’s speckled with blood, and the water just got clean. I don’t bother taking off my jeans. I sink into the tub, and Casey relaxes back against my body. She doesn’t say a word.

But still, the guilt eats me up inside.

* * *

“Declan, stop.”

Casey grabs my arm, and I kill the hair dryer. Even with the power off, it takes a couple of seconds for the sound of the heated air rushing through to die away.

This is it. I know this is it: the end.

“Casey, please: I need to tell you something. It’s –”

“Me too.”

I fall silent, a sense of foreboding growing and churning in my stomach like a storm out at sea. I look down at her, all swaddled in a giant white bath robe, and she looks so innocent. How can I possibly deserve a girl like her?

“That whole time, when I thought I was going to die … or worse –”

“Casey –”

She barrels on. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your face was what carried me through everything; and the memory of your voice, the touch of your stubble on my cheek…” She breaks off, her throat all choked up.

It leaves me feeling worse than when she started. How the hell can she feel like that, after everything I did to her? It sounds like she holds a higher opinion of me than I do, but how can that be right? After all, I’m the one who has to live with what I’ve done.

“Sure, I saved you: physically.” I say, staring down at the floor with guilt. “But I toyed with you mentally: it’s true. The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. But …” I swallow. My throat’s dry. “That’s not the only reason. You know it’s not. Vince was fucking the woman who stole my kid, and I wanted to get my own back. It was only after, that I realized how goddamn special you are. I don’t deserve you, Casey Samuels. Not one bit. But I’ll make things right. I’ll give you as much cash as you need, set you up in any town you want. You need to get out of Boston, and to get a thousand miles away from me, and everything I’ve done to you.”

I close my eyes so that I don’t have to see the rage I know must be bubbling on her face.

But she laughs. It’s a peal of pure, clear laughter – like the sound of tinkling chimes in the wind.

I sit back, confused, and my head thumps against the headboard.

“Why –?”

“I was pissed, Declan: pissed!” Then she laughs again. “But the more I thought about it, you know what I realized?”

I shake my head silently. I’m beginning to feel the first golden rays of hope floating down like a rope ladder, but I don’t want to cling to them unless I’m too early, and they’re just gossamer strands, and I plunge.

“I figured that if I want to run with wolves, I best be prepared to tumble sometimes. So do you know what I learned?”

Casey twists her head, looking up at me with fire surfing her green eyes like a burning oil spill.

“What?” I croak.

“Sometimes it’s the falling down that makes getting back up…”

She pulled herself upward and towards me, and the bathrobe comes loose around her waist.

"… that much sweeter.”

Casey kisses me softly: just a peck on my lips at first; but it’s enough to silence any angst-ridden response my brain might have tried to conjure up. Then she pushes her lips against mine, and it’s more insistent, and her hands dance across my body. Her hair is still hot from the dryer and it hangs across my bare chest like a warm towel.

I push her away: just for a second. “You are so goddamn special, you know that, Casey?”

She shrugs, but presses herself against me again. It seems like there is a need inside her, driving her; a fire, maybe, that she’s trying to put out. The bath robe that has been covering her, falls away and reveals a sea of, pale, freckled skin. My cock swells with blood, and it’s all I can do to push her away once again.

She looks up at me with surprise in her eyes. “What is it?”

“I need to tell you something, Puss.”

She cocks her head.

“I need you to know that I –. That the whole time those assholes had you, I was sick with worry. When I thought you might die …” I close my eyes, reliving the pain. Somehow it feels even worse, now that I’ve got Casey in my hands, and on my skin. It shows me how fragile life really is; how it can change in a moment.

“It doesn’t matter. I love you, Casey: I love you; I love you; I love you.”

I look down at her, searching for those eyes that make me want to dive right in.

They are closer than I expect. They are coming right towards me. She leans in for a kiss, then snakes her head to the side of mine and whispers into my ear, “Me too.”

Then her hand is reaching down my body, under my towel to stroke my cock. It’s soft, sweet, and my cock responds in turn. It grows in her hands, a week of unfulfilled longing, and almost unendurable stress, all combining as one.

I grip the back of her head, digging my hands into her long, red hair, and pull her towards me. I press my lips against hers and kiss her with a fierce longing. She responds in turn, moaning against my body like I’m all she’s ever wanted.

Casey’s nipples graze my skin like meteorites bouncing off the atmosphere. They feel like goddamn shooting stars, and I dip my mouth to them. She lies there a second, moaning under the attentions of my tongue and then pulls my head roughly with one hand. “Enough,” she pants. “I want you inside me.”

I growl my appreciation.

I push the rest of her bath robe aside, and it falls off her body like it’s trying to be a part of the action. My eyes surf across her body like they’re being pulled along by a speedboat. There’s so much to see, and so little time. I love those tits, those curves, the way her skin dimples at her hips. I love every goddamn inch of her body, and it’s all mine.

I lean over to my bedside table, searching for a condom, but Casey reaches for my arm.

“No,” she whispers. “Not this time.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. I want to be sure. Everything with Casey, from now on, it’s got to be on the up and up. I fucked up once; I’m not going to do it again.

She nods and I don’t ask twice. My cock leaps from underneath the bath towel covering it like it’s heard the starting gun at a race.

I pull Casey down on top of it and her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ as she sinks down onto it, gasping with pleasure. Her tits wobble as she lowers herself, and I can’t help but grab a handful. They’re too goddamn perfect to miss.

“I love you, Casey Samuels,” I say, closing my eyes as her hips meet mine, and my cock buries its entire length inside her. I grab a hold of her curves and push her up, and she takes the hint. She closes her eyes and puts her hands on my shoulders and starts riding me like we were never apart. I lie back, and my cock starts to twitch with pleasure. It feels like someone’s got a hold of my balls, squeezing, but with hands that are as light and gentle as a fairy. There’s an urge building inside me, an urge that needs –

– to be fulfilled. I flip Casey over in one powerful movement, and she yelps with surprise as she lands on her back.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” I ask, circling her throat with my hand.

“You’re not so bad –”

I don’t give her a chance to finish. I drive my cock as far inside her as it’ll go, and she closes her eyes. Her eyelids twitch with pleasure as I drive in and out of her pussy, long, deep strokes that don’t give her a chance to relax.

Casey starts to yelp, and I bite down on my lip. I’m so close, but I can’t finish now.

My breath is ragged and uneven, and I feel that tell-tale growing, swelling feeling of desire surging up from my balls. I know I haven’t got long, and judging from the look of rapture on Casey’s face, nor has she.

“Please…” She moans. “Don’t… Stop…”

I don’t. Somehow, I hang on … I start doing the alphabet back in my head, and I have to close my eyes so that the sight of Casey’s nipples doesn’t spark me into coming inside her before she’s ready. I don’t know how I hold off, but I do.

Just…

Long…

Enough.

She moans my name, and I explode. The last thing I remember is her fingernails clawing at my back.