All Chapters of Salt And Steel: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lucy.Late Noon. Hours Later…I sit at my work counter, and I can’t stem the flood of memories that keep crashing over me like relentless waves.Chase. His tongue all over me. His lips all over me. The whole of yesterday during Valentine’s Day.The delicate kisses. The tenderness. His attention to every detail as he asked me questions about myself.And then this morning, before I showered.And the way he bathed me in the shower, despite that distracted look he had. He didn’t tell me why he was all stiff, lips pulled tight, jaw locked. But I knew something happened within the seconds after I left him to go shower.I wonder what had him so tense.Could it have been a conversation with his dad?I’ve noticed they don’t seem to get along well.Or maybe it was work related.I pick up my phone, checking for any messages from him.None.Usually, when I’m at work, he sends me those annoying messages of his.'Where are you?'Why didn’t you respond to my first text? You got me worried.''Is Magn

Tamara. Wednesday, 17th February. Two days later. Grinds and Axes Club and Bar, 57th Street. Night. I walk into the club. Steps precise. Eyes sharp as usual as I take in my surroundings. Music blares through the surround speakers. Bodies pressed together while men and women crowd the dance floor. Sweating, grinding, dancing like the world is ending tonight. “Ma’am, the VIP booth is just that way.” One of my men says from behind me. I nod once, following his direction, and immediately spot the booth overflowing with people. Cake, streamers and loud cheering. Expensive liquor bottles lined across the table. Silently, we head toward it. “Hi, Patty.” I call to my friend and the birthday celebrant, who instantly whips her head in my direction. “Tamara!” She squeals excitedly. Every eye falls on me. Even Doctor Oliver Wade’s, the celebrant’s boyfriend. He shifts his gaze toward me, and immediately, that same awkwardness settles between us again. Heavy, strange and unspoken. Oliver

Chase. The look of horror on Lucy’s face guts me from the inside out. Makes me feel like she’s scolding me. The way my mum used to scold me whenever I did something wrong. That look of horror mothers wear when disappointment claws through them. “He shot himself? That’s a lie and you know it.” She steps back. “What did you do? Tell me!” She screeches. I stare at her hard. Weighing how much I should tell her. How much of me she truly needs to know. “All you need to know, Kitten, is that I handled a man that tried to rape you...That tried to take you by force.” I never break eye contact with her. “The same way I took care of Bowman and his friends.” At those last words, Lucy lets out a sharp gasp. She sinks to the ground, her face turning ashen. Her body slowly starts trembling. Seeing her like this makes my heart cave in on itself. Shatter. I pivot immediately and move toward her, crouching low to her level. But the second I reach for her, she shoves me back hard and I land on my

Dilman Dale. Hudson Crest. Irvington Village, New York. 26th February, Thursday. Next day… Night. I pace the living room of Timothy Shoeman’s residence in Irvington Village. The room smells of pine and polished wood. Floor to ceiling naked Palladian windows showcase the darkness outside. Black water from Hudson River stretches endlessly beneath the moonlight. Silent. Cold and watching. I inhale steadily, trying to calm my nerves. Trying to still the anger raging inside me since my little princess revealed the treachery done by Chase Olympus. Memory floods me now of that night Tamara told me everything. Two nights after she bathed in that virgin’s blood. “You’re certain that there’s a Lucy Roshid that he’s close to at the moment?” I asked her calmly, even while rage spiked viciously inside me. “Yes, dad.” She snapped. Her body wound tight with anger. Her eyes red rimmed and swollen from crying. The name sparked something inside me. Something dark. Something I couldn’t quite pl

Chase. Manhattan Detention Complex, New York. Meanwhile. BUZZ! I lift my eyes as the door to the waiting room opens and Samson Carmi walks inside, a uniformed guard standing beside him as an escort. His eyes land on me as he slowly approaches the bench. The chains around his wrists and ankles clank with every step before he finally sits across from me. A moment later, the guard walks out, leaving Samson and me alone in the room. "Why have you called me here?" Samson's voice is quiet. Tight. His dark gaze hardens as he studies me carefully. I lean back in my seat, watching the once arrogant Samson Carmi, owner of the Vains Organization, looking haggard inside prison walls. "Prison colors don't suit you, Samson." I tease him, though there isn't a trace of amusement in me. A bitter chuckle escapes him. "I'd say the same about you if our positions were reversed. Framed for a murder you never committed." He shrugs casually. I frown. Memory detonates inside me. Lan