Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) (22 page)

20
Tor

Kenzi ~ age thirteen

Tor ~ age twenty-eight

I
glance
at the clock again above the fireplace. It's only five minutes later than it was the last time I looked at it, but it feels like an hour has passed. I've been sitting in this chair in Asher's living room all night, listening to the tick of that clock with one ear and the sound of the door with the other. But there hasn't been a sound at the door, and with each passing minute I'm getting more worried.

I call her cell phone again and it goes straight to voice mail. I don't bother leaving a message.

"Fuck." I mutter, grabbing my car keys off the coffee table. I pull on my sweatshirt as I head for the back door just as she's coming in.

"Where the hell have you been?" Anger and relief flood through me. "Why didn't you answer you phone?"

Her big green eyes widen as she peeks up at me from behind her bangs. I grab her chin and lift her face up into the light.

"Are you wearing lipstick? And eyeliner?"

She pushes my hand away. "Maybe. A little. And my phone battery died." She skirts by me and opens the refrigerator, taking out a pitcher of iced tea.

"Where have you been, Kenzi? It's eleven o'clock. I've been calling you for three hours. You didn't even tell me you were going out. You just disappeared."

She pours herself a glass and puts the pitcher back, shrugging nonchalantly at me. "Chloe's cousin picked me up and took us and some other friends to the movies. Chill out."

"I'm not going to chill out, Kenzi. You're supposed to let me know where you are and who you're with."

Glaring at me, she tries to push past me to leave the kitchen but I grab her arm.

"Don't walk away from me."

"You're being a jerk. You're not my father, ya know. And I'm not a baby, I'm allowed to go out with my friends. I don't have to sit here with you on a Friday night."

I cross my arms in front of me and stare her down. "Fine. Next time your parents go on tour they can find someone else to watch you. You think I want to waste my time sitting here while you run around and act like a brat? I have a life, ya know."

"I'm not a brat."

"You're acting like one."

"Then just go home. I don't need you here. You were ignoring me, anyway."

"Fine. I'm outta here." I storm out through the back door and cross the yard to my truck parked in the driveway. Fuck this shit. If I wanted to deal with this I'd have a kid of my own. I throw my truck in reverse and turn to see her running down the walkway towards me.

"Uncle Tor..."

Sonofabitch.

I stop the truck and roll down the window. "Get back in the house, Kenzi. It's late."

She clasps her hands on my car door, tears running down her face, smearing her eye liner. She hasn't figured out yet that waterproof makeup is best for getting through life.

"Please don't leave."

"You told me to leave. So, I'm going. I'll call one of your uncles to come stay with you and they can figure it out with your parents."

"They all treat me like a baby. I didn't mean it, Tor. Please don't go."

"I can take you to your grandparents, then. You can stay with them ‘til your dad is back."

She reaches into the truck and grabs my shoulder. "Please don't do that. I want to stay here with you."

I know she hates having to stay with her grandparents because they smother her with too much attention and try to give her tons of gifts. Kenzi's never liked to be spoiled or lavished with expensive gifts by her wealthy family.

"You can't just leave and not let me know where you are, Kenz. And you have to be home by your curfew. The rules don't change just because your parents are away."

She nods, swiping at her tears with her fingertips. "Okay. I promise. Just don't leave me. I didn't even want to go to the movie but you were on the phone with Sydni for hours. So when Chloe asked me to go...I left."

The phone marathon with Sydni started earlier today. I'd hung up on her three times but she keeps calling back, trying to justify the photos of her I saw on the internet. With two guys. One of them a drummer from another band who left a status on social media about his sticks being played with recently in a sexual way by a female rocker and he's auctioning them off to donate to charity. I've felt sick to my stomach all day with that vision stuck in my head.

Sydni's explanation that it was something fun that would benefit something good wasn't making me feel any better. And now I have a jealous thirteen year old to pacify.

"Is that what this is about? You're upset because I was on the phone with her and not paying attention to you?"

She lowers her eyes and fidgets with my door lock. "Kinda. I thought we were going to watch a movie together and make sundaes. Then she called and that was it. You forgot about me."

I turn the truck off and climb out, slamming the door behind me. "Look, I'm not a mind reader. If you're upset about something, you have to tell me. You can't run off. I've been a mental case worrying about you."

"I'm sorry."

"C'mon. We can still watch a movie and make some wicked sundaes. I'm starving."

"Can we pile pillows and blankets all over the floor and camp out in front of the TV like my dad used to do with me when I was little? I don't even want to watch the movie in the theatre room. I want to hang out in the living room by the fireplace."

I'm sure my back will be screaming in the morning if I lay on the floor all night, but I'm willing to risk it.

"Yeah. Actually, that sounds perfect, Angel."

She grabs onto my hand as we walk back onto the house together. "Good. I just want to be five again for awhile."

I don't blame her. I want to be a little kid again too and forget about all the shit that's happening in my life.

* * *

Tor

A
fter sexting with Kenzi
, I feel like I've developed multiple personality disorder. One of me feels sick and ashamed of myself for being so weak and the other me can't get her off my mind and is itching to recapture that exhilarating feeling with her again. Last night made me feel more alive than I have in a long time and now that I've had a taste of her, I want more.

So much more.

As I work on the engine of a beautiful old Indian motorcycle in the shop, my brain keeps rewinding back to the pictures she sent me. And her handwritten note. And the fact that she hasn't texted me yet today.

Is she waiting for me to text her first?

Or is she mortified about the things we said to each other?

Does she regret sending me the photos?

My suck level is high when it comes to all things relationships.

When lunch time rolls around, I lock myself in my office and give her a call. Texts are fun but I need to hear her voice.

"I was hoping you'd call me." She says when she picks up, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"Were you?"

"Yes."

"It's a good thing I called then. I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

"I don't think that's possible," she replies. "So, how's your day? You must be tired."

"It's the usual Monday. And yeah I'm beat, but you're worth it."

"Well, thank you."

"What are you doing today?"

"Not much. I'm having dinner with Aunt Katherine and her new boyfriend tonight."

"Very nice. I'm happy for her - she deserves to be happy after what that asshole did to her."

"Yeah, she really does. She seems pretty crazy about this new guy, so I hope it works out."

I glance at my door to make sure no one's around but lower my voice anyway.

"Kenzi, about last night-"

"Tor," she interrupts. "You don't have to say anything."

"I feel like I should."

"Sometimes saying nothing says more."

I laugh into the phone. "You sound like your dad."

"I do, don't I?"

"Yeah." I clear my throat. "I should probably go. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I really love you, Tor."

She says it like she's declaring the sky is blue. Without one tiny shred of doubt in her mind. Like she knows it's what my heart needs to hear.

"I love you too, Angel."

"I'm eighteen now."

I grip the phone tighter in my hand.

"Trust me, I know."

"I'll be coming back home soon."

Like I haven't been counting down the minutes.

"I know."

"I'm coming after you, Mr. Grace. You can run, but you can't hide." Her words are teasing and playful but the raw truth behind them is undeniable.

Fuck
. Stick a fork in me. I'm done.

* * *

T
hat night
I have a tattoo appointment with my good friend and artist, Lukas Valentine, who also happens to be Asher's cousin.

When he gets me situated in the leather chair in his work area, I hand him the faded piece of paper with the image I want him to do tonight. He looks at it for a few minutes, his black shaggy hair falling over his eyes, then chews his lip ring as he lays the image on his work table.

His silence makes me think I made a mistake having him do this one and I should've gone to someone that I don't know to have a picture tattooed on my chest that was drawn by a little girl. Especially when that little girl happens to be the tattoo artist’s niece.

I'm so fucking stupid.

"So, how ya been, man?" He finally asks, leaning over me in the chair. The familiar buzz and burn of the gun starts in my left pec.

"Good. Work's been busy so that's always good."

He nods. "Same here. Business is going great."

"Asher's been raving about your violin intro on the new CD."

"Yeah?" His eyes immediately light up at the mention of his playing, like a true musician who’s passionate about their craft. Lukas is one of those multi-talented people who can play every instrument under the sun, without ever having had any lessons. His favorite is the violin, and he can go from playing classical to metal on it seamlessly like he was born with the thing in his hand.

"Yeah. He said you fuckin' killed it."

"Good to know." He hums along to the music playing from his mp3 player. "Do you want to talk about this?" He nods at the needle dragging into my skin as he shades in a replica of the heart Kenzi drew for me when she was seven. I like how it hurts to have something she gave me embedded into my skin forever.

I shift uneasily in the chair. "I don't think I can."

Shit.
I shouldn't have come here. What the hell was I thinking?

"Understood. I'll do the talking, then."

I trust Lukas. We talk a lot when I come in here to get inked and he's sort of like a goth pseudo therapist. I know he's not going to crucify me, but I also know he's about to throw it down and tell me like it is.

He pulls back to look me in the eye. "You're treading into a minefield, Tor. I'm not gonna lie. But you know that already, don't you?"

"I do."

"I guess I don't have to ask if you love her. The fact that you're getting a heart and the words 'i love the you the most' permanently inked into your chest says it all, doesn't it?"

I wonder if I can admit my feelings for Kenzi out loud to someone. Especially to someone who also loves and cares about her.

I take a deep breath and I let the words out into the air, knowing there's no turning back now.

"Yeah, I love her. More than anything. Nothing's happened, though. I kissed her and that's it." I said it. I just admitted I'm in love with an eighteen-year-old girl. To her uncle.
Her real uncle.

He lets out a low, dramatic whistle. "I'm going to assume Asher doesn't know."

"No. Things between her and me changed a few weeks ago. It happened kind of suddenly. My mind is completely fucked over it."

"I'm sure it is." He agrees. "And nothing like that happens suddenly, man. I think it's been happening for a long time."

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