Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) (13 page)

* * *

I
feel
guilty as I'm walking into Asher's house on this sunny Sunday morning. Today we've got a ride planned and we always meet up at his house. But now that I'm here, I feel like I have a big red mark on my face in the shape of his daughter’s lips.

"Hey, man, it's a perfect day for a ride," he says when I walk into the kitchen. "You want some coffee before we head out?"

"Nah, I'm trying to quit. It makes me jittery."

He pulls two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and tosses one at me. "Let's ride up to Cathedral Ledge. I got a new camera and I want to take some pictures."

"Dude, every year you buy a new camera."

"I know. I think I have some bizarre camera fetish. Do you want one of my old ones? I've got about five I think."

"Thanks, but I'm good. If I want a picture of something I'll just use my cell phone. I can't deal with all those buttons and settings," I wander across the kitchen to look out the window while I wait for him to put his boots on, and that's when I see Kenzi, Chloe and Rayne sitting out by the pool, laughing like girls do. I have to force myself not to stare at Kenzi in cut off faded denim shorts, bright apple red bikini top, sunglasses on top of her head pushing her hair off her face, and black motorcycle boots on her feet. It's the little black leather boots that get to me the most and make my body twitch in ways it definitely shouldn't be.
Fuck.
I can't escape this shit.

She looks like she just stepped right out of one of Tristan's biker chick calendars he's got hanging in his work area. As hard as I try, my eyes disobey me and take in the swell of her breasts cradled in the thin material, the perfect curve of her waist, to her belly button just above the hem of her low cut shorts.

She's not hot. She's not hot. She's not hot.

"She's cute, but way too young, man," Asher says, coming up behind me and slapping my back.

I blink rapidly. "Huh? Who?"

"Chloe."

Shit.
"I wasn't looking at her. She's got the body of a twelve year old." Unlike Kenzi who suddenly has the body of a twenty-something year old who’s got my blood pumping wildly.

Why can't she be one of those giggly, annoying teens with a horrible attitude that hates everyone? Why does she have to be so sweet and smart and beautiful and caring and independent and such a great listener and -

"Well, you better not be looking at my little sister."

- and everything I want.

I quickly turn away from the window. "I wasn't looking at anyone. I was spacing out wondering if that dog is trashing my house. Can we go? You take longer than a chick to get ready." A thin sheen of sweat has covered my body as I fight my physical and emotional reaction to her. I've got a Kenzi-induced fever and I need to get out of here and away from her before I pass out.

* * *

R
iding
all day helps settle my mind and body. Something about the mountain air, the roar of my engine, and the endless clear blue sky always puts me in a good mood. Asher rides in front and I follow a few lengths behind. About three hours into the ride we stop for lunch at an old roadside burger place, and I come damn close to coming clean and spilling my guts out to Asher about what happened with Kenzi. I feel like pure scum betraying the trust of the guy who's been my best friend for twenty-five years, who's done more for me than anyone else, and trusted me with the most precious thing in his life. It's eating at me day and night and I want this monster out of me.

"How's the shop doing?" He asks.

"Great. The past two years have been the best we've ever done for profits. I was actually able to give my brothers a raise for once, so they're happy."

He nods around his burger. "Good deal. I think the new sign out front and painting the building really helped, it kinda breathed new life into it. People like that."

"You're right, it made a big difference. Pop never thought about things like that."

"Marketing can be a bitch. Our PR team is on us to change our logo. I told them to go get fucked. I'm not changing it."

Ash and I designed the scrolling A&E Ashes & Embers logo when we first started the band way back in high school. I never cared that the band name was a play on his and Ember’s names. It fit perfectly.

"I don't blame ya. It's been the brand since day one. The fans recognize it. Shit, how many people have it tattooed on them that we've seen?"

"Exactly. The logo stays. It's us."

"It's you."

He leans back in his chair and shakes his head. "No, man. It's always us. Just because you and Ember aren't in the band anymore doesn't mean shit to me. We started it. It's our baby. I'd have none of this without you. Don't think I ever forget that, because I don't."

"We're equal, Ash. Where would I be without you? Broke? In prison? Dead, maybe? I wrote some songs. Big deal. You've bailed me out of a mess a hundred times. You don't owe me anything."

"I know I don't. I helped you because you needed it and you deserved it. People fall, we pick them up, right?"

"Right." I finish my soda, still feeling sick. I don't think Asher will understand my fall for his daughter.

By the time we're done with lunch, I still haven't told him about kissing her and I know I'm not going to because he'll fucking despise me and I'll never see him or Kenzi again. He'll never forgive me or believe it was just a random fucked up heat-of-the-moment thing. Maybe I'm a coward or just a bigger selfish asshole than I ever thought I was, but I don't think I can deal with losing them. The void that would leave in my life would be huge.

So I don't tell him, and instead I promise myself that I'll never give in to a moment of weakness or insanity around Kenzi again.

Ever.

I'll learn to destroy the monster myself.

* * *

T
he past two
weeks have felt like an eternity. Longer than an eternity, if that's even possible. I Googled
'what is longer than eternity'
out of curiosity and boredom, but it came up inconclusive, with the only real answer being
'eternity means lasting forever'
. I liked how that sounded word-wise but not time-wise in relation to the unsettled feelings I was experiencing.

I spent the days and nights in bed, recovering from the torture known as oral surgery and then getting a cold. My father, my Grandmother, and Chloe each took turns visiting me and bringing me soft food. My grandmother dropped off a bag of new romance paperbacks to keep me busy—some her own books, others by her favorite authors. Buried under my cuddliest comforter, I spent those two weeks napping, reading, and thinking about Tor. And missing Tor more than I should. We texted a few times when he said he hoped I felt better soon and told me he adopted the dog. I replied back that I wanted to come see the dog, to which he replied 'anytime'. And that was it. At first I thought it was best for us to just ignore the fact that we kissed, go about our lives as if it never happened, and accept that it was an accident of sorts.

But then I dreamt of him. I'm not sure if it was the pain killers from the surgery making me crazy, the cold meds making me loopy, or if reading erotica romance books every night had my imagination in overdrive, but whatever the reason, this was a dream like no other. It was one of those super special dreams that feel so incredibly real that when you wake you're not quite sure if it was a dream or if it actually did happen. And then you want to try to fall asleep really fast again and somehow find your way back into that dream, and live in it.
Make it real.
He kissed me in the dream like he did that day on the side of the road, rough and demanding, overpowering all of my senses. Only in the dream-kiss, he didn't stop there. His lips moved down to my throat, and his hands gripped my waist, pulling my body against his. And in the dream I wasn't afraid to touch him. I wrapped my arms around him and let my hands roam all over those beautiful muscles he has, and every inch of me that his lips touched burned and tingled and begged for more. And now, I
do
want more. I want that dream to not be a dream at all.

"What are you doing?"

His voice startles me out of my daydream and I realize I'm staring at myself in my bathroom mirror with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, blue foamy gel all over my lips. I quickly rinse my mouth and wipe it with a washcloth.

"Dad...I was just getting ready to leave."
Jesus.
I can feel heat rising to my face, and I'm sure I'm blushing.

His eyes narrow at me like he does when he's trying to read me, his hand reaching out to touch my forehead. "You look weird. Are you still feeling sick?"

Yes. I'm sick. I can't stop thinking about Toren and his lips and his hands and his muscles and his voice and his-

"Kenzi?"

I shake my muddled head and force a smile at him before putting a quick coat of lip gloss on.

"I'm fine, I was just thinking."

"You looked like you were on another planet."

"I'm just excited to finally drive my new car today!" I do a little happy hop and give him a hug. "Thank you so much for getting it for me."

His face is still all concern and worry as he follows me into my room and watches me put my shoes on. "Are you sure you feel okay? I'm worried about you driving after you've been sick."

I cock my head at him. "Dad. This has nothing to do with me having a cold and everything to do with you worried about me being in a car alone."

"Driving is dangerous."

"So is walking. And stairs. Shit, people die in their sleep! Or choking on food!"

He rubs his head and stares at me. "Yeah...true. I knew that bubble I wanted to put you in was a good idea. It's not too late, ya know," he says with a smirk.

"Dad, stop. I'll be fine. You said yourself all the times you took me out to practice that I'm a good driver."

Sighing, he crosses his arms and leans against my dresser. "You're right. Just pay attention. I want your cell phone on the passenger seat next to you and not in your hand. At all. Don't even look at it."

"I promise."

"And don't blast the music too loud, you won't be able to hear the cars around you."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Seriously? This coming from a rock god? Loud music is in my blood."

"Fine. Just not
too
loud, then. And make sure it's good music and not shit."

Laughing, I agree. "Okay. I promise. Please don't worry. I won't embarrass you with any bad music choices."

"Where are you going? I don't want you to go too far you're first time alone. And make sure you have a full tank of gas."

"I'm only going to Tor's to see the dog. I'm so glad he kept him, he's the sweetest dog ever. Do you think we can get a dog?" I ask for what must be the millionth time since I was about ten years old. "There are so many at Mrs. Grace's shelter..."

"No, you have a rabbit that's almost a hundred years old," he glances over at Snuggles in her cage. "I travel too much to have a dog and I don't want you strapped down with another pet right now while you're figuring out what you want to do next. I want you to be free to do whatever you want. You can go and love on Tor's dog anytime you want."

What
do
I want to do next? I still have no idea.

I snatch up my phone and my new shiny keyring and head downstairs with him right behind me. When we reach the foyer, I turn to face him and he practically slams right into me. He's severely hovering.

"Dad, I'll be fine. Stop being a helicopter. I've been riding my bicycle to Tor's house and all over town since I was eleven years old. I think the car is probably much safer. I'll text you when I get there, and when I leave, and when I get home."

That gets me his famous smile. "Deal. I'll be in the studio most of the day working some new vocals, so I'll be able to focus better if I know you're safe and sound."

"Don't work too hard. And I can't wait to hear your new stuff. I know it's going to be amazing. As always." I kiss his cheek. "I'll see you in a little while."

As soon as I get in my new Jeep I’m tempted to take a selfie to send to Chloe but I stop myself. I promised Dad no cell phone shenanigans in the car, and even though I'm technically still parked in the driveway, I'm going to stick to my word.

At least about the cell phone. I
do
blast my favorite music pretty damn loud on the fifteen-minute drive over to Tor's house. What's the point of having a kick ass stereo system if you don't use it?

Usually I let myself into his house with my own key but I feel odd doing that now, so I knock. Hearing the dog bark makes me smile and I wonder if he'll remember me.

The door opens a few seconds later and when he's smiling down at me, everything feels normal again. He's wearing my purple heart beanie, and I'm wearing his old Guns n' Roses t-shirt I stole last year. We're us again. His gaze shifts behind me to his driveway and he breaks out into a bigger grin.

"You finally got your car. Jeeps are nice. Good choice."

"Yup! I love it."

"It's cool. White suits you, Angel. I could hear you coming from way down the street, though. I figured Ash would make sure you had the best sound system."

"Don't even start," I tease, nudging by him where I'm immediately greeted by a mass of white fur and a tongue. I kneel down and the dog is all happy wiggles, wagging his huge flume of a tail and licking my face. His back leg is in a blue cast, but he seems to be getting around okay with it.

"Wow, Tor! He's so white! And fluffy! He almost looks like a different dog!"

"Tell me about it. Who knew under that wet muddy dog was a cloud with paws."

"He's gorgeous!" The dog is beautiful, like a show dog you'd see on television, and he's obviously very happy with an immense love for people. He's prancing around the room, going from me to Toren to get patted, and he almost looks like he's smiling.

"I love him! How has he been since you brought him home?"

"He's been really good. He's house trained and except for gnawing on the legs of the coffee table, he hasn't done anything bad. The vet thinks he's about two years old. His back leg is healing up nice."

I look up at him as I hug the dogs neck. "And nobody came for him? No postings about a lost dog matching his description?"

He shakes his head. "Nope, nothing. Ty checked all the databases, going back three years and there's nothing within a hundred-mile radius listing an all-white dog. I can't believe his owners aren't missing him. It's fucked up."

"It is." I don't know how someone could have such a great dog and not even report him missing. I hope nothing horrible happened to his owner.

"You'll have to do a lot more vacuuming now," he jokes. "The fur that comes off him on a daily basis is crazy. And it sucks for me since almost all my shirts are black. I can't get out of the house without having white fur on me."

I stand up and smooth down my t-shirt, which is also covered in fur now, too. "I'll get you one of those lint roller things if you don't have one."

"I've been using masking tape and went through a roll already. Pick me up a bunch of those lint things," he reaches into his wallet and hands me a fifty-dollar bill. "You're still going to clean and stuff, right?"

I nod, taking the bill from him. "Yes, and make you dinner."

"Wicked cool. That's the best news I've heard in a long time." We watch as Diogee grabs a big white bone off the floor and carts it over to a dog bed in the corner of the living room to chew on.

"He seems really happy, Tor. I'm so glad you kept him. I'm looking forward to seeing him now when I come over. I could brush him for you, too, if you want."

"That would be awesome, and he obviously loves you. He's a little high maintenance so I'll take all the help you want to give."

"I don't mind at all. I asked Dad for a dog again but he said no, and I can basically come over here and hang out with yours."

"I'm good with that. Anytime you want to come over is fine. You know that by now. Since he's all settled on his bed, you want to see what I've done to the back yard?"

"Of course." A few weeks ago he told me he wanted to do some landscaping in his yard and plant some new flowers and shrubs because he was sick of looking at nothing but grass and rocks. When we step outside the sliding glass doors to his patio, I'm completely unprepared to see what he's done. He fenced in the entire yard with white fencing and planted different shaped shrubs, a myriad of colorful flowers that I can't even name, a bird bath, and a hummingbird feeder along with various birdhouses nailed into the trees. But the part that blows me away is a stone walkway that leads to a tiny pond with an old wrought iron bench nearby. He's watching me with a grin on his face, waiting for my reaction.

"A pond?" I exclaim. "You did this?"

We walk over to it and I'm shocked again when I see three koi swimming in the clear water that's being circulated by a small waterfall.

"Yeah, Tanner helped, though. We watched about fifty YouTube videos. It took a few days just to do the pond but it came out pretty cool. We used rock from the river down in the woods. Tanner power washed everything, then we arranged it all in here. It's almost three feet deep."

"Are you kidding? This is amazing."

"Thanks. The dog keeps trying to stick his head in it, but I think he'll get bored of it. Tristan gave me some training tips to work with him."

"Tor, it's all beautiful. My Dad's going to be jealous of this, though," I tease. "This is kinda better than his water fountain. I mean, there's fish."

He winks at me. "We won't tell him."

"Can we sit?" I ask. "I want to watch the fish swim around. They're so pretty and peaceful looking."

"Sure. I haven't sat back here at all, actually. Just been busy working on it but not really enjoying it yet."

"Well then it's time you did."

We sit on the bench together, he stretches his long legs out and proudly looks around his beautiful new yard.

"It's seriously amazing, Tor. So much better than just all that boring grass you had before. And the fence is a good idea."

"Yeah I was afraid the dog would wander off and get lost again," he stares around the yard some more. "I really like it. It feels more like home now, ya know? I should have done this years ago."

"I think so, too. I love everything you did. This is what I want when I get my own house someday. I could sit back here all day."

We share a smile and my heart dances. I've missed him and our talks, and now as my eyes discreetly take in his muscular jean-clad legs, flashbacks of my dream make my heart beat even faster. I wonder if he's thought about me differently at all, like I've been thinking about him.

"How have you been feeling?" He asks.