One Dance for Case (Possessed 2)

“Whatever.”

“You’re right; he does.” One of the other privates on their team agreed. He was a smart kid; he’d be going places. Kept his head down, his eyes and ears opened and followed orders.

They’d been assigned to evacuate a small village a hundred miles east of Kabul so another team could come in and lock it down. Being Special Forces, specifically Army Rangers, they were more than equipped to handle anything that came their way.

The team was escorting men, women, children, elderly, dogs, and even two fucking goats back to base when shit hit the fan, and they went straight into the depths of hell.

“Take cover!” He could hear Dom yell just as a bullet ripped through Casey’s shoulder, nearly tearing his arm from his body.

The rapid repetition of enemy gunfire could be heard like cherry bombs being set off in the boys’ bathroom in grade school.

The pain ripping through his body assured him it was anything but school kids being little pricks.

Grabbing the old man with his now injured arm, he shot back cover fire so his team could hide. Watching in horror as a little boy of maybe four fell, calling for his mother. Just as she was about to reach for him, the impact of a dozen Taliban bullets tore through his tiny body like slivers of glass.

Screams could be heard as men on both sides were injured. As women cried over their loved ones being maliciously killed.

Turning and tossing the old man behind a boulder, Case opened fire wherever he could, hoping to take out as many of the motherfuckers as his hail of fire would allow. There was a moment of stillness. A moment of guns clicking to be reloaded, when he saw another kid come out to get the woman who was reaching for her son, only to gape in incomparable alarm as a bullet flew through the silence and straight between his eyes. Making one small pinhole in his head before exploding through the back of his skull. His eyes opened wide in shock, his face slackened in acceptance, his body fell lifeless onto the woman. Ultimately, shielding her from heavier gunfire.

“Don’t fucking move!” Case yelled at her. He could hear the old man repeating his words forcefully in Pashto. When she finally nodded, and he could tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight, two Taliban fighters were coming at him. Discharging his empty chamber, he reloaded before either of them could line him in their sights. Killing both instantly, movement from his peripheral had him turning to see another rebel going for the old man. “Oh, fuck that!” he yelled following their progress, hoping to surprise them. Unsheathing the knife from his belt, Case managed to climb over a barricade and jump on the prick’s back. With his injured arm wrapped around the man’s neck as tight as he could, he stabbed him in the chest more times than he could remember. It was a blur of blood spurting and bones crunching. He could remember the cramp in his hand from wielding the knife so hard. He remembered the mangled mess the guy was as he fell to the ground and rolled right onto the IED. The one that would take Casey’s right leg as another bullet stung and shredded its way through his left.

The explosion shook the night as he flew through the air, landing heavily on the sandy ground. The only thing that saved him from losing his life was that the man he’d killed took most of the impact, but not enough to keep shrapnel from tearing his leg from his body.

He could remember the screams of more people dying, of Dom calling for him, and the panic in his friend’s voice as he realized what had happened. The one memory that ate at him worse than anything was watching as a pregnant woman and her young daughter ran towards him to help, only for them both to be turned into Swiss cheese. It was supposed to be him helping them

Bullet holes riddled their bodies in more places than he thought were possible. He remembered laying there, useless, counting them all, wanting to memorize all the ways he’d failed that day. Needing to remember the young mother and daughter who thought his life was important enough to risk their own. In the end, he passed out at the same moment the life left the woman’s eyes…as he watched the only things precious to her be torn away.

He wasn’t the only one to have had his life changed that day. Yes, he’d lost a huge piece of himself, but women and children died, and full, able-bodied men were cut down to nothing.

Waking up drenched in sweat, Case couldn’t get the woman’s eyes out of his head. How full of life they were when he had met her. She was so excited to be having her second child, only for everything she held dear to be ripped from her in a flash. The memory haunted him.

Needing a drink so badly, he foolishly forgot for a second that he couldn’t so easily maneuver around. That he was missing a leg. He had to put himself back together like a fucking puzzle before he could move. By the time he situated himself again, he had remembered why he couldn’t drink. Why he had to hold himself back. He was no longer alone in this world. For the first time in ten years, he had something just for him. Someone no one could take away from him.

Evelyn.

She was the light to his dark. The soft to his hard.

She was his redemption.

One week.

For one week, she hadn’t seen Casey. His friend came every night but never him. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or not. She foolishly got invested in seeing him. In the short amount of time they had spent with each other—mostly fighting—Ev came to anticipate sparring with him.

He had a presence about him that she’d come to love. Commanding yet soft. Hard yet vulnerable. She wondered what gave him that wounded look behind his eyes. Dark shadows played deeply in them, almost fighting for dominance in his mind.

Against her better judgment, she wanted to know more about what made him tick. Why he thought she was so special at first. Why he gave up so quickly.

“Evie, doll, you’re on in five.” Pixie popped her head into the changing room. Putting the finishing touches on her makeup, she never went too heavy. Smokey eye

s with a bright red lip and she was set.

She had a particularly shitty day at home with Marcus again. When he touched her, she wanted to shrivel up into a tiny ball and cry. He made her feel dirty, violated. So needing to feel something other than disgusting, she decided to change up her costume and routine for the night.

“Are you still going with the new routine?” Pixie asked as she watched Ev glide into the sexy lace, see-through jumpsuit she’d picked up that day.

“Zip me?” she asked Pix, turning her back to the other woman. The material was made of spun lace in a multitude of light colors. Green, pink, white, blue, and purple shimmered as she moved, revealing but not quite baring her most intimate areas. The outfit accentuated a plunging neckline with long pointed sleeves and a light hood to cover her snow white hair that she’d curled into spirals. Underneath, she wore a matching black G-string and black bow tie pasties with chains hanging loosely from the center, covering her nipples. She’d never worn anything so risqué or showed as much skin as she was about to. Six-inch red stilettos finished the look off.

“What’s your song again?”