Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) (18 page)

"I want that too. I just thought..." I lick my lips nervously as I bravely look him in the eye. "I thought I could make you happy."

His complexion pales a shade. Maybe two shades. "Kenzi, you do make me happy. I love hanging out with you. But I need a real woman to be in a relationship with," he rubs the scruff of his face and looks at me uncomfortably. "There's things I need and want that you can't give me."

I try to swallow past the lump of embarrassment, anger, and sadness that has lodged in my throat.

"Oh."
Of course.
He's talking about sex, and while he knows I'm a virgin, he probably can also figure out that I've not done much more than kiss. Men seem to have a radar for that sort of thing and I must be a big red beeping dot on the inexperience map. "But maybe you could teach-"

He interrupts me before I can go any further. "No. Hell no. We are not talking about this," he lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "You gotta stop doing this to me, Kenz. It's not cool. I'm only human, ya know. I mean, fuck."

"I'm sorry."

He grabs my hand and holds it in his, and it brings me back from sinking into the depths of extreme awkwardness. "I love you," he says. "Seriously, you're my favorite person on this planet. But I want us to go back to how we were. Friends, okay?"

"Okay."

My legs get weak when he winks at me and I hold onto his hand for a moment too long as he tries to let go. "Now I'm heading outta here to take care of your bunny. I'll text you later." He places his hands on the sides of my head and leans down to kiss my forehead. His affectionate gestures cause my heart to twirl. He's always been this way, but my body's and heart's reaction to it lately is entirely different than it's ever been before. When I was little, it made me feel adored. When I was an early teen, it felt annoying and embarrassing. But now, it's a life force I can't seem to get enough of.

"I don't want you to be sad. Enjoy your vacation. Promise me?"

"I promise."

I wave to him as his truck pulls away from the curb, the hero who bought me a bunny to cheer me up when I was five years old now driving her little body back home to lay her to rest for me. I know I shouldn't be feeling so deeply for him, or wanting to feel his lips on mine and be tangled in his embrace, but I crave all of that and so much more.

If he thinks I can't be a real woman and make him happy in every way a man needs to be happy - that
he
needs to be happy - then I'm going to prove him wrong. My mom told me to always follow my heart, and mine is galloping towards him like a wild horse.

E
very week
when I clean Tor's house, I feel guilty that he pays me fifty dollars because his house is always so clean already. I wipe down his kitchen and bathrooms, do his laundry if any is laying around, clean out his refrigerator, and vacuum. Today I feel like I should try to do more to justify my fifty, so I clean all his windows and mirrors, and move as much of his furniture as I can to vacuum under it. In the corner of his bedroom is an old glass jug that's about two and a half feet high and about the same in circumference with a big handle on the side. The jug is filled with mostly quarters and dimes that reach about three inches away from the top opening of the jug. It's been in the same place for as far back as I can remember, so I try to move it so I can vacuum underneath it and around it, but it weighs a ton. I can't budge it for anything. He comes into the bedroom just as I'm cleaning it with glass spray cleaner and a cloth.

"Uncle Tor, what the hell is this thing?" I ask him from where I'm sitting on the floor next to it. "I wanted to clean around it but it weighs about a hundred pounds."

He kneels down next to me. "It's a special family tradition. Do you want to know what it is?"

"Well, now I'm intrigued, so yeah, you hafta tell me." I always want to know as much about Tor as possible because he's not like anyone else I've ever met before.

"This bottle used to belong to my great grandfather. He started putting coins in it when he was twelve years old, and when he fell in love with my great grandmother, he dumped out all the change and that's what he used to buy her engagement ring, because he didn't have much money. Then he gave the jug to my grandfather, who did the same."

I smile at him, happy that he shared such a close family memory with me. "Wow, that's pretty cool. Did your dad do the same with your mom's ring?"

"Yup, and then he gave it to me when I was fourteen. My brothers each have a bottle too, but this one here was my great grandfather’s, so it means a lot to me."

Fascinated with the romance of the tradition, I stare at the jug, wondering how many quarters and dimes are in there. One time I guessed how many jellybeans were in a bottle for a class project and was only off by two, but this is way harder.

"How much money do you think is in there?" I ask with curiosity.

"I'm not sure. A lot. A few thousand at least."

"Damn. That's going to be a big diamond."

He ruffles my hair and stands up. "I'm sure she'll be worth it. If I ever get married, that is. The bottle's almost full and I don't exactly have anyone to propose to. I hope I don't wreck the family tradition and end up with just a big bottle of money."

"I seriously doubt that."

My heart twinges with a slight beat of jealousy over the woman who will someday get to be Mrs. Toren Grace.

* * *

I
see
we haven't been properly introduced. I'm the asshole who broke the fragile heart of a seventeen-year-old girl by telling her she can't give me what I want and need.

The reality of it all is that I think she's probably the only woman on the planet who actually
can
give me everything I've ever wanted, needed, and dreamed of. Somewhere the universe fucked up big and screwed up our timing. I should have been younger. She should have been older. We should've met as strangers, bumping into each other in some random way. As I stand under the shower and let the hot water spray over me, I can see in my mind how we should have met. She'd be rushing out of the cafe, on her way to the craft store to buy parchment paper and ink the color of night for her favorite fountain pen. I'd be walking down the sidewalk, and we'd crash into each other. She'd drop her purse, and I'd bend down to help her pick up her things. There'd be a penny on the ground, and when I hand it to her, our fingers would touch. She'd look at me with those big green eyes and that shy smile of hers that fucking shatters me, and that would be the start of our forever. She'd be wearing jeans with holes in the knees, an eighties band t-shirt, little leather motorcycle boots with pink socks peeking out of the tops, and that beanie on her head with the purple heart that would eventually become mine. Her sensual cuteness would captivate me, and I'd force up the courage ask her out, afraid of never seeing this magical little creature again. She'd write her number on my hand in writing so beautiful that I'd never want to wash it off. Instead I'd take a picture of it so I can keep it forever and call it the 'the day my wife gave me her phone number'.

Why couldn't the powers that be given us that scenario?

I wonder what made little Kenzi Valentine decide I was husband material when she was just five years old. And fuck me, I think she still believes that. I can see it in her eyes in the way she looks at me like I'm the only person in the world that matters, and it literally stalls my heart. She's been committed to me in her own way for twelve years, which is twisted irony considering that no one else has been capable of that.

Stepping out of the steamy shower, I wrap a white towel around my waist and head out to the kitchen to make my morning protein shake and there she is, standing at the window in my dining room looking out at the back yard.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask, and then turn to the dog, who's just sitting there acting like it's okay for anyone to waltz into our house. "And why the hell don't you bark when people come in? You suck as a dog."

He wags his tail at me and gets up to follow me to the kitchen, with the still nameless kitten right behind him like a fuzzy shadow.

"When did you get all these pets? It's like a zoo in here. My allergies are going to go crazy," she says, turning away from the window to look at me.

"I asked you a question," I repeat, taking my blender out of the cabinet.

"You've been avoiding me, so I decided to just come over."

"That's what happens when people break up, Syd. They avoid each other. Permanently."

When I turn around to get milk out of the fridge, she's leaning over the kitchen island, her cleavage spilling out of the tight black tank top she's wearing. I ignore her lame antics to get attention. That shit doesn't work with me.

"Tor, come on. We've broken up a million times, and we always get back together. Stop being a drama llama. We belong together. "

Sydni isn't the one that got away; she's the one that won't go away.

I shake my head, pour milk into the blender with my protein powder and a handful of frozen fruit, and answer her with a sarcastic laugh. "No, we don't. And you can't just be coming into my house any time you want."

"I have a key, remember?"

"Not anymore. I want it back."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am. I don't want you showing up whenever you feel like it."

She pulls her keys out of her purse and unhooks my house key, slamming it down on the countertop between us. "Here. Happy now?"

"It's a start."

"What's wrong with you? You never act like this with me."

"I know, Syd, and maybe that's been the problem. I let you have your way for too long and now I'm done." She picked the wrong day to show up and try to make amends. I have way too much on my mind already to be adding her back into the mix.

"Have my way?" she repeats. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Are we seriously going to hash this shit out again?" I press the power button and the blender starts its angry racket of mixing, drowning out her voice. She stops talking and waits until I turn it off to start up again.

"I'm going on tour soon. I'd like to work things out before I leave."

"Work what out?"

"Us." She comes around the kitchen island to stand in front of me, her long fiery red hair almost reaching to her ass now. Her makeup is flawless, as always, with thick black eyeliner lining her eyes, the color of them mocking me today. Sydni has a thing for colored contact lenses and today she chose green, making me want to pull them out of her head because they remind me of Kenzi's, only without the sparkle of the gold flecks hers have.

"There is no us anymore."

"Why not? Is there someone else?"

The thick shake goes down my throat and almost comes back up again. There's never been anyone else in the past. I focused on work, Devils’ Wolves, taking care of my family, and spending time with the someone else who I never realized was a
someone else
until right at this moment. The main reason I don't want to give Sydni another chance is because I don't want her anymore. I force down another gulp of the chalky drink as I face the cold hard truth - the moment I kissed Kenzi, she became the One.
Maybe she always was.

"Well?" Sydni prods. "Is it Lisa?"

"No. We're just friends. I haven't even slept with her. I sleep with this dog and cat every night."

"Is that because you love me?"

"No, Syd. It's because I love myself."

She rolls her eyes at me, a gesture I despise. "You know I don't care about who you fuck, Tor. I'd only care if you had feelings for another woman. Sex isn't a threat to me, but I won't share your heart."

I stare into the fake eyes of the woman I spent years in a relationship with, wondering where we went wrong.

Downing the last of my drink, I place the cup in the sink before turning to face her again. I tighten the towel around my waist and lean back against the counter. I'd rather be having this conversation with clothes on but I know she isn't going to give me a few minutes to go get dressed. She'll follow me to the bedroom and try to divert this conversation into other oral activities to distract me.

Pushing my wet hair out of my face, I say what I should have said years ago. "Syd, I never wanted an open relationship. Ever. It's just not my thing."

"Since when? We've been this way for ten years, Tor."

I shake my head. "No. You wanted it that way. You wanted the freedom to fuck whomever you wanted while you ran around with the band and I had to stay home."

She laughs and crosses her arms. "Come on, Tor. You got to screw anyone you wanted while I was gone. We both had fun. I think, as usual, you're jealous that I'm living my dream and you gave yours up."

"One time," I admit through clenched teeth, furious over her last stab. "One fucking time I was with another woman and it made me feel sick. But you? I don't even want to know how many guys you've been with under this free-to-fuck-anyone deal you tried to rope me into just so you could suck and fuck your way across the country."

"I'm not a slut."

"Then don't act like one. I heard you slept with Vandal Valentine a while back. He's a goddamn lunatic, Syd. His cheese has completely slid off his sandwich. Ropes and chains? What the hell is wrong with you that you'd want to get in bed with that kind of crazy?"

"I wanted to try something new. I've been friends with him for years, and I trust him. It's no big deal."

"So you just had to fuck him, too? Someone I know and have to see all the time? He's Asher's fuckin' cousin. Was that your way of living out your fantasy of being with Ash? I hope you didn't sleep with all his brothers, too. Have some fucking class."

Mad tears brim in her eyes. "This isn't fair, Tor. You never said you didn't want freedom. We agreed when I was home, it was just us, but when I was on the road, we could both do what we wanted as long as feelings didn't get involved. Now you want to throw it in my face? This is so like you, to not ever talk and then just blow up and try to blame it all on me."

"You're right. I should have said something years ago and put an end to it. I was so hell bent on trying to make you happy that I just let you do whatever you wanted. And I guess I thought that since you supposedly loved me, you'd stop after, I dunno, the first three guys maybe?"

"I didn't love any of them. You're the only one I've ever loved. You know that."

"Whoop dee fuckin' doo, Syd. Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes. Sex doesn't matter. It was just stupid party fun."

I turn my head up toward the ceiling and laugh. "Oh, I see. Well, how about a few months ago when you said you wanted to get married, because...wait a second, let me think on the exact words you used...Asher won't ever let go of Ember and you're tired of waiting around for him to give you a chance. So I'm just the next best thing?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Riiiiggghhht. It's a good thing Ash has some morals and won't touch you with a ten-foot pole or you wouldn't even be standing here right now, would you? You'd be sleeping with him, and forgetting all about me until you needed something."

She glares at me and I know what I said is true; she'd definitely choose him over me. "I'm not going to apologize for something you agreed to, whether you took advantage of it or not. Now that you've told me how you feel, I'll stop." She steps closer and runs her hands up my bare chest, clasping them behind my neck. "We'll start over, then. With a commitment to each other. Maybe it's time we take things to the next level."