Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) (15 page)

"Can I get you anything?" I ask. "The heating pad? Or maybe an ice pack? What helps with the pain?"

He shakes his head. "None of that shit helps."

"Okay. I'll just vacuum and do your laundry, and then straighten things up a bit."

"Skip the vacuum. The noise will make my head explode."

"Alright. What else can I do to help? Maybe you should take a hot bath or shower?"

Squinting, he falls back against the pillow, grimacing in pain. "I don't fucking know. I'm sorry, Angel. I'm in a ton of pain. I can't even think straight. Just pet the dog and make dinner. You don't have to do anything else."

Seeing him in so much pain and the cranky mood it's put him in bothers me and makes me want to do something - anything - to make him feel better. When I was younger, I used to rub his back and even
walk
on his back sometimes when it was hurting him, with my mom yelling that there was no way that could be safe for a back injury, but he said it felt good. Giving him a back massage would probably be really inappropriate after what's been changing between us recently, though, so I nix that idea.

He opens his eyes and grins when he catches me looking at him.

"You still look at me the same way you did when you were a baby," he murmurs.

"How's that?"

"Like I'm just the only thing you ever want to look at."

Not breaking eye contact, I smile at the truth in his words.

"Maybe you are."

His eyes close and he takes a deep breath as if he's inhaling my words and needs them to take his next breath. When he opens his eyes he reaches out to rest his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb slowly brushing back and forth over my cheek. My heart jumps at his touch, and I freeze, not moving, not wanting to do anything to interrupt the moment.

"And when you were little you used to come running to me when I walked into the room, and you'd hug me like I was your favorite person in the world. You have no idea how that felt," he swallows hard. "To feel so unconditionally adored."

I remember that feeling of giddy excitement every time my Uncle Tor came in the room and although my excitement of seeing him hasn't diminished, it's totally different nowadays.

"You made me feel the same way," I admit. "And I still feel that way, Tor. But now, I think I want to do a lot more than just hug you."

His hand grips my neck tighter, and I lick my lips nervously. "And I think I want you to do a lot more than just pick me up and swing me around and make me laugh."

I nearly forget how to breathe when he presses his thumb to my lips. "Don't say things like that, Kenzi," he whispers, his eyes flashing even darker. "You don't know who you're playing with."

Without even thinking, my tongue peeks out to run across his finger, and his eyes widen, riveted to my lips as I taste him. "I'm not playing. And I know exactly who you are." I don’t want to hide my feelings anymore so I embrace this moment of new bravery.

"Oh, yeah?" his voice is low and sexy, and it does indescribable things to my insides. "Who am I?"

"Did you forget?" I ask playfully, leaning a little closer to him, his hand on my neck pulling me forward, gently coaxing me even closer. "You're the man I'm going to marry someday."

"Fuck," he exhales the word and pulls my lips down to his, and our second
collision
is just as amazing as the first—slow, tantalizing and consuming. His mouth covers mine, his tongue delving deep as his free hand grips my waist, pulling me off the coffee table and onto the couch with him. His hand slides from my hip to the back of my thigh, pulling me until my chest is flush against his, my legs straddling him. An unexpected whimper escapes me as my body settles perfectly against him and his massive hard-on presses between my thighs, causing my entire body to quiver with electric pulses.
Wow.
Groaning, he grips the back of my neck tighter, his fingers in my hair, and kisses me deeper, his lips smoldering on mine. My body instinctively seeks his out, my thighs spreading wider over him, wanting to feel more of him.
Needing
to feel more. Ripples of longing I've never felt before tremor through my body as I slowly move against him, unsure of what I'm doing but loving the feeling of him growing even harder beneath his sweat pants. His hand moves from the back of my thigh to the small of my back, holding me firm against him, and I like how possessive it feels. A little voice inside me tries to tell me my first experience grinding against a man's body should be with any one of the millions of single men on the planet and not with Tor, but I ignore the warning. She doesn't know what the hell she's talking about. I may be seventeen, but I can feel without a shadow of a doubt our bodies and hearts were made to be together, like scattered puzzle pieces needing to be put back together.

Suddenly he pulls away and exhales with a hiss. "Shit.
Fuck!
" he swears, causing the dog to jump up. Pushing me off him, I fall back onto the end of the couch as he sits up, swinging his legs off the couch and planting his bare feet on the floor.

"Kenzi, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking high on pills right now," he says, running his hands through his hair. "You need to leave.
Now
."

"Wh - what? Why?" I'm still lost in the euphoria of his kiss, of feeling him so hard against me, my mind cloudy and humming, still wanting more of whatever just happened. I want a total head-on collision.

"Please. Go." He points to the door like I'm some kind of squatter who wandered into his house.

"Tor..." I touch his arm, but he yanks away from me.

"Kenzi, you have to go. I mean it. I can't be around you when I'm high as a fucking kite. I don't know what the hell you're doing to me."

I stand on wobbly legs, completely engulfed in confusion. "I'm sorry..." I stammer. "What about dinner?"

I'm in a daze as he walks with me to the kitchen, where he scoops up my keys and hands them to me. "Don't worry about dinner. And don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. It's me, I'm messed up."

He practically pushes me to the front door, where I turn to look up at him, clutching my phone and keys, tears falling down my cheeks. "What's happening to us?" I ask.

His deep chestnut eyes are filled with regret as he shakes his head. "I don't know, Angel, but I think we need some time apart."

"Time apart?" The concept of that sounds so out of place to me. That's a term reserved for people in a relationship that's going bad and need to get away from each other to regroup and calm down, and to think about whether they want to be together or not. That's not us. I don't ever want to consider not having Tor in my life.

"When are you going to Katherine's this year?" he asks.

I'm taken aback by his question. "Why would you ask me that? I'm not sure I'm going. I planned to stay home this year."

"I think you should go for the summer. I think we need to put some space between us for a while."

His words steal my breath.

"You want me to go away?"

"I just think we need to get our heads straight. We've been spending too much time together."

"We always have, Tor. For like my entire life."

"I know, and that was obviously a mistake on my part."

My throat clenches along with my heart. "So you regret all the time you've spent with me?" My entire life flashes before my eyes, wondering if every memory of us together was nothing but annoyance for him while it meant so much to me.

"No, Angel. Not one minute. But I think now that you're older, it has to stop. You should be with friends your own age more. Find guys your age to date. And I should be spending time with women my age and not with you. This is all fucking wrong," he puts his hands up and backs away from me.

"But it doesn't feel wrong," I protest weakly.

His eyes are hard as steel. "It’s wrong. Trust me. We should never be touching or kissing, for any fucking reason."

"I can't believe you want me to go away," I say in disbelief.

"I think it's for the best." He says simply, his walls building up again.

"For you, maybe."

"No, for both of us. But especially for you. You just can't see it."

"That's total bullshit. I like being with you. And being kissed by you is amazing-"

He grabs my shoulders and bends down to get at eye level with me. "Stop!" he hisses. "It's just a crush, Kenzi. It's normal for your age. It'll go away."

I scoff at him. "A crush? If that's all it is, then why do you feel the same way, Tor? You're a little old for a crush, aren't you?"

"I don't even fucking know anymore, Kenzi. I just know we need to get away from each other."

I can't even fathom wanting to get away from him. All I want is to get closer to him, not further away.

"I don't know what to say," I say. "I'm confused."

"So am I," he says softly, releasing my shoulders. "I'm trying to be honest with you, Kenzi. But this is really fucking hard because I also have to do the right thing. I can't let emotions get in the way of reality."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means that I'm all fucked up. I have feelings for you I shouldn't have. I'm not going to lie to you about that. But I have to be the adult here and do the right thing. This can't happen. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I'm not a baby, Tor. I'm going to be eighteen in less than two months. That's an adult."

"It's still wrong in like twenty other ways."

I look into his eyes, pleading. "I don't want to believe that."

"We shouldn't even be having conversations like this, Kenzi. I don't know what the hell is going on anymore," he crosses the room and grabs his water and bottle of pills off the coffee table and gulps down another handful of painkillers and muscle relaxers. "I really think you should go now. Please."

I reach for the doorknob, my emotions a tornado inside. Hearing him admit he has feelings for me makes me want to throw my arms around him and hug him into oblivion, but he's taking it all away and hiding it like it's some kind of dirty secret that needs to be destroyed, and he wants me to go with it.

"Please don't do this," I beg. "Don't push me away."

"Kenzi, don't make this worse for us. I'm in a ton of pain right now, I can barely think straight from that and all the pills I've taken. I'm trying to be gentle about this, but I just need you gone."

Gone.
Over and done with. No more. Done. Finished. Ended. That's what he wants.

My unwanted heart cracks.

"You're a jerk," I choke out. "You want me gone? Then fine, I'm gone."

His shoulders slump in defeat. "Don't say shit like that to me."

"I've never thought of you as weak, Tor. But I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

He comes back to stand in front of me at the door where I'm still standing with my hand on the knob. Diogee follows him, tail wagging, oblivious to what's going on.

"Trust me Kenzi, there's nothing fucking weak about this at all. I hate hurting you and it's killing me inside."

"Well, that's funny since you just hurt me more than anyone else ever has."

I storm out of his house, slamming the door behind me, and jump into my Jeep.

"Never drive upset,"
my father's words ring through my head as I back recklessly out of the driveway. Here I am, already driving with a broken heart, barely able to see through the tears in my eyes.

Spending the summer in Maine with Aunt Katherine is looking better and better. I've never been a crier or the type of person to slam doors, let alone call people names. Between the fight with Jason and now all this emotional confusion with Toren, I don't feel like myself. This isn't how I wanted to start my life as an adult. Maybe Tor is right; I need to get away from everyone for a while for a major reset.

W
hen I wake
from my nap, the house is quiet. Too quiet. I'm not used to it and I don't like it. Even though my mom has always traveled a lot with her band and I'm used to her not being home much, this feels different. Her absence has left a deafening silence that seems to be screaming that she's gone and never coming back.

I get out of bed and wander down the long dark hallway to my parents’ bedroom, where the door is closed halfway. Just as I approach the door, I hear voices, and my heart skips with hope. I think somehow Mom has come back and she's home, right on the other side of the door talking to Dad, cuddled in bed laughing.

But she's not.

I peer inside the dim room and my father is sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, crying. Uncle Tor is sitting next to him with his arm around him, holding my dad as he sobs.

"I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this..." my father is saying over and over again.

"You can. You're okay."

"I don't know how to live without her."

"Ash, she's still here. Don't give up. I know it's hard, but you gotta have faith."

"I just want her back. I miss her so fucking much."

"I know you do. We all do."

"And what about Kenzi? How am I supposed to raise a daughter by myself in a fucking rock band?"

"I'll help you. Your family will help. I promise she'll be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you." Tor presses his lips to my dad's temple and leans his head against his, his other large, inked hand holding the side of my dad's head as he talks softly to him, comforting him. While some people may think that's odd, it is so them, and I am grateful that I'm surrounded by people who love each other so deeply, so unconditionally, that they aren't afraid to express it. It's a shame that most people won't show compassion and affection to others out of fear of judgement or rumors of their sexuality. I've always loved the bond that Tor has with my parents and now with me.

I quietly back out of the doorway, unseen and unheard, and make my way back to my bedroom, quietly closing my door behind me.

Up until recently, I've never seen my father cry before. He's always been a rock; the one who helps everyone else, always smiling, always positive. Watching him fall apart scares me, and I feel like I've lost both my parents.

* * *

I
've been riding
for two days straight, with no destination planned other than
far the fuck away
. I don't care where I end up. Wherever the road takes me, that's where I'm going. Tesla agreed to stay at my house to take care of the dog until I get back so I wouldn't have to worry about him. I told the guys I'd be out of the shop for a few days so they'd have to pick up the slack and take care of the Devils’ Wolves tasks on top of it. I hardly ever take time off, but I need it now.

And now I'm six hundred miles from home, dirty and tired, and I still can't get away from the demons in my head, and even worse, in my heart.

Fuck yeah, I'm running away. Maybe she was right. I'm weak. A seventeen-year-old girl has completely derailed my brain and rocked me off my ass. I should be stronger than this. Even Sydni never had my head all twisted up like this and she had years of practice.

I thought a nice long ride and camping out in the woods would bring my head back around and give me some clarity. The stillness of the woods, with nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the morning, crickets at night, and the wind in the trees is therapeutic for me. But the thing is, it isn't just my head that’s messed up. It's my heart.

I think I'm falling in love with her, and I'm powerless to stop it. I can feel it, like a train with no brakes, coming faster and faster, straight for me. Soon, it's going to crash, and it's not going to be pretty.

My head is telling me I'm sick, and fucked in the brain. Not just for having feelings for a woman so young, but for being physically attracted to her, too. But my heart is telling me this is my girl, my other half—the one I've been waiting for. And let's not even get started on my dick and what that part of my anatomy is thinking and wanting.

All of this just complicates the shit out of my life. This is entirely new territory for me; not being in control of my own feelings, and I'm not dealing with it well.

These feelings can't be normal. I have adult women who want me. I can fuck them, I can love them - I can do anything with a handful of women I know. All I have to do is put the effort in, and they'd be mine any way I want them, without any baggage or dark clouds of doom hanging over us.

The problem is the only girl I really want is an adorable, smart, loving, almost-eighteen year old who I've been taking care of since she was born. Of course, she's the only girl I can't have. Karma, you are one demented bitch.

How the hell did this happen?

A year ago, I didn't feel like this. Sure, I loved and cared about her, and enjoyed her company. But that was it. We went from an uncle and niece relationship to a friendship, and that's all it ever was. There were never any other feelings involved, not even in the slightest.

So what the hell changed? How come every time I'm near her now, all I want to do is kiss her? Why do I keep losing control around her? Why can't I get her out of my head? Sure she's beautiful, but I've never been the type of guy that can't control himself around good looking women.

And even more screwed up is she seems to feel the same way. Kenzi isn't the flighty type and she's always been mature for her age. She's not a silly giggly teen like my sister was, jumping from guy to guy. Kenzi's like Asher - she knows what she wants and she doesn't deviate for anything. Knowing this scares the hell out of me even more because if she says she wants me, then she knows it one thousand percent, without a doubt. That's what I've been wanting, needing and looking for in a woman for so long. Someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to grab it.

But not like this. Not with her.

As I pack up my small pup tent and sleeping bag and secure them onto the back of my bike, I know I'm heading back home with absolutely zero resolution to my Kenzi dilemma. Thankfully she's in Maine now and I won't see her for at least two months. Quitting each other cold turkey should break whatever this new wacked out connection that’s between us is for good so things can go back to normal.

I hope.

* * *

A
fter riding
for about two hundred miles, I pull over to the side of the winding mountain road to drink some water and stretch my back out, which is starting to ache from all the hours on the bike and sleeping on the ground for two days. I can't wait to get home, take a hot shower and a muscle relaxer, and sleep in my own bed.

I'm just about to get back on my bike when I see something moving out of the corner of my eye in the tall weeds on the side of the road. Removing my sunglasses, I walk over and see that it's a taped up cardboard box. And it's moving.

Something's inside it. Scratching. Trying to get out.

Oh, fuck.

I glance up and down the road where I'm standing, and there's absolutely nothing out here. No houses or stores. It's just a road going up the mountain with nothing but woods on both sides for miles.

Kneeling down, I pull my knife out of my belt clip and carefully slice along the tape, not sure what the hell I'm going to find in this box, bracing myself for the worst.

A tiny paw shoves through the small space I've cut open, and I quickly cut the rest of the tape as a small gray furry head pokes out. At first I think it's a squirrel, but it's a goddamn kitten.

"Shit," I swear under my breath, gently taking the tiny ball of fur out of the box and cradling it in my hand. It looks to be about six weeks old and is all blue gray with a tiny white spot on its chest. As I stare at it, it begins to mew in my face at the top of its little lungs.

"Shh...I got ya little one," I say softly, gently rubbing its head. It purrs loudly in response, rubbing its fuzzy head into my palm. I check its body over for any injuries, but it seems fine from what I can see. Other than being taped into a box and thrown onto the side of a desolate road like garbage to die a horrible death. I check the box again, but there's nothing inside and no markings on the outside. Some asshole just taped a kitten into an empty box and left it to die.

Days like this, I hate the fucking world. I could easily choke the shit out of the person that did this, leave their ass on the side of the road, and feel no remorse whatsoever. In fact, I'd probably enjoy it.

I snap a few pictures of the box and the surrounding area before I carry the kitten back to my bike and pour a tiny bit of water from my thermos into my palm, which the kitten laps up quickly.

"Dude, you have no idea how lucky you are," I say to it, rubbing its itty bitty ears that are like tiny velvet triangles. "What are the odds someone like me would find you out here in the middle of friggin' nowhere?"

My mom has said a hundred times, sometimes God puts the right people in the right place for a reason. I'm not a religious person, but right now, I'm thinking she's right.

Unfortunately, my options for getting this kitten home safely are limited. My cell has no reception, so I can't even call one of my brothers to come meet me in a car. I sure as hell can't zip it up into one of my saddle bags because I'm pretty sure the roar of my pipes so close will give it a heart attack. I can't stick it back in that box and try to hold it for another two hundred miles.

"Fuck it. You better be cool, kitten," I say, as I tuck it against my chest and zip my leather jacket up. "Don't go all Freddy Krueger on me and get us killed, deal?"

I kiss the top of its head before I zip my jacket up a few more inches. This is probably not the best plan I've ever had but I have no idea how else I can get this poor thing home. Hopefully it won't scratch the shit out of me.

I start up the bike and get back on the road slowly, letting the fur ball cuddled up against my chest adjust to the noise and movement and hoping it doesn't freak the hell out. After a few seconds, I can feel it purring up against me, vibrating against my heart. So far, so good.

We head for home, stopping once at a gas station so I can fill up my tank. I slowly unzip my jacket a few inches to check the kitten, and it pokes its head out and rubs against the stubble on my chin, still purring.

"You think you're a biker cat now? Don't get any ideas. This is a one-time ride, kitten." I can't believe it's not scared out of its skull after enduring the rumble of my engine, but it seems pretty content just hanging out inside my jacket, which I guess is better than being taped up in a box. I tuck him back in and hop back on my bike to get this last stretch of miles over with.

As I cruise down the road, I wish Kenzi was with me. She would love this kitten. I can almost see her face if she had been with me when I found it. She would have cried and ground her teeth in anger, and she'd probably have it named by now and would be begging me to talk Asher into letting her keep it.

I'm not a cat person, but maybe Diogee would like someone to hang out with while I'm at the shop all day. Looks like biker box kitten is coming home with me to stay.