“Certainly.” He placed the leather booklet in Tori’s hand.
“Can you read me the receipt, please?” Tori smiled sweetly, but it was that devilish, false grin. She could have easily asked Jane to do it, but Tori was trying to prove a point. Tori then made him take her card, when she’d normally pay cash to keep it simple.
When he returned, she forced him to guide her hand where to sign—again something Tori would ask her sister to do. Jane sat back and enjoyed the show as she made the guy’s job difficult on purpose. The server couldn’t wait to get them out of the restaurant.
“I just love how totally uncomfortable I make some people,” Tori said as they walked out of the café. “They avoid me like I’m contagious or some kind of bomb that needs to be diffused.”
They spent the next few hours shopping in the boutiques nearby. Tori bought a couple new items with Jane’s help, and forced Jane to pick out something for herself, Tori’s treat.
“Tori, this dress is a hundred and fifty dollars!” Jane lamented.
“You never buy yourself anything. Let me treat you,” Tori insisted. “Please.”
Jane’s lips went tight. Tori had money—how much, she was unsure. Still, Jane felt guilty with her spending the money her sister was supposed to use to take care of herself. Although Tori had mentioned she was now part investor in a motorcycle shop in Texas, which Jane thought was absolutely nuts. “Fine.”
They walked out of the shop, bags in hand, and Tori’s arm looped with hers.
“So, you never answered my question. When are you getting hitched?”
“Soon.” Tori waved her hand and immediately changed the subject. “Would you mind running me by Keith’s house on the way home? I want to go get my painting supplies.”
Jane was all too happy about the painting supplies to even revisit the subject of marrying Scott. Jane remembered going to her sister’s house and packing them up. Tori had insisted when she left for O&M that her sister remove them from her home. “I don’t want them there when I get back, just give it all to Keith,” Tori had demanded.
“Of course, we can.” Jane’s eyes filled with tears.
They arrived at the townhome in Georgetown about twenty minutes later.
“Did Keith buy a jeep?”
“No.” Tori cocked her head. “Scott just bought one. We got it last night.”
“Well, I think Scott is here,” Jane remarked as she pulled up behind the black, lifted jeep sitting at the curb.
“Probably came to show off his new toy to Keith.” Tori shrugged as she opened the car door.
Jane glanced back at the jeep. The thing looked damn expensive. She didn’t want her sister blowing through her money. “Did you pay for it?”
Tori snorted as they walked toward the steps. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. Do you honestly think that Scott is the type of guy who’d let me buy him a vehicle?”
Jane chuckled. No, he was not. “Point taken.”
When they got to the door, Tori didn’t even bother knocking, she just grabbed the door handle and let herself right in.
Jane followed, then stopped dead in her tracks. She was rendered speechless, her tongue gluing itself to the bottom of her mouth at the same time her jaw hit the floor.
Keith’s living room had been transformed into a photo studio. The furniture had all been pushed out of the way. A long, white backdrop was set up along with professional lighting stands.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed her eyes nearly popping out of her head. Scott—her sister’s tatted up hulk of a man—was standing there, wearing nothing but his prosthetic, and a cowboy hat. A loop full of thick ropes hung across his shoulder, strategically covering his package.
“What’s wrong?” Tori asked.
Both Keith and Scott’s heads snapped in their direction.
“Oh, hey, Vic, Jane.” Keith dropped the camera around his neck and laughed like the devil.
“Holy shit,” Scott groaned and tilted his head down as his olive-toned cheeks flushed bright red.
“Ooh, that look is perfect, stay just like that. The whole bashful cowboy thing is sexy as hell.” Keith snapped away.
“Can someone please tell a blind girl what the hell is going on?” Tori stomped her foot and cane at the same time.
“I…I…” Jane stammered. She couldn’t even form the words to describe the sight in front of her. “Please tell me that there’s a logical reason that Scott is naked in your living room.”
“Naked?” Tori cocked her head to the side, obviously confused.
Scott glanced up at them, placed his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. “I lost a bet.”
“And this is his payment to me.” Keith waved to the living room.
Tori threw her head back, laughing. “Oh God, is this about the gay, biker bar? Now you have to pose nude for Keith’s project?”
Scott grunted. “Yes, and yes.” Scott adjusted the heavy ropes on his shoulder—causing his package to suddenly make an appearance.
Jane squealed and covered her eyes, turning her head. “Oh my god, Scott…I can see your…”
Tori nudged Jane in the side. “Lucky bitch.”
“Sorry.” Scott stepped back a few paces and quickly adjusted himself.
Jane peered through her fingertips.
A devilish twinkle gleamed in his eye as he ogled Tori. “Why don’t you come over here and take a look, babe?” Scott jutted his chin toward her and a rugged smirk passed across his face.
“Ooh, you got it.” Tori’s nose wiggled and she released her hold on Jane’s arm and pointed her cane toward the living room.
“You three enjoy yourselves. Sis, I’m assuming Scott will give you a ride?” Jane hollered at her.
Scott put his arms around Tori and gave her a kiss. “I’ll give her a ride all right.” He winked to Jane.
“Lord, I’m outta here.” Jane chuckled and walked toward the door. “Scott how about dinner at our place tomorrow? The kids would love to see you and we can catch up properly.”
“Sounds great!” Scott chuckled.
“Clothing is NOT optional.” Jane waved over her shoulder and was gone.
“You up for a short walk,” Scott asked Tori, poking his head into her small bedroom office.
“Yes, please, I could use a break, and we probably need to think about dinner.” She’d been absorbed in her painting ever since Scott had driven her home hours ago. But things weren’t going well. She sighed in frustration, grabbed her towel, and wiped her hands.
Scott walked over and stood behind her stool, rubbing her shoulders—eyeing the canvas. He was so happy to see her art supplies back in this room, even if it was taking up a ton of space.
They were settling into a routine. It had taken some getting used to.
Tori was learning to not get so upset at his ever-vigilant watch over her and Scott was learning there was a fine line between being helpful and smothering her. He was learning to read her. Sometimes she needed to be courageous—prove to herself she could do it. Other times, he learned she just needed him close. He’d take her hand and hold it in his, letting her know he was there.
They bickered, a lot. And had make up sex, a lot. Admittedly, the hate fucking was so good sometimes he picked a fight with her just to fuck her raw.
“It doesn’t look too bad.” He eyed the raised lines of puffed paint across the canvas. It looked like a landscape to him, with green slathered across the canvas. “It’s hard to tell because you haven’t filled it all in yet.”
“It’s a goddamned mess,” she cursed. “This is so insanely difficult. I can’t get the colors to mix right.” She scratched her forehead and stood up.
“How do you know that?”
“Well, considering the paint is sticking to me I’ve added far too much Liquin. It’s too thick.”
“You’ll get there.”
She turned and faced him. “I need a break. A walk will be great to clear my head.”
Sco
tt laughed, looking at her.
“What?”
“You have paint on your forehead.”
“Just great.” She wrinkled her nose, touching her forehead and smearing the green paint even more.
“Stop.” He swiped her hand away. “You’re making it worse.” He grabbed her towel, dipped it in a nearby cup of water, and wiped her brow and hands until both were paint free. “There. Got it.”
Her mouth quirked up in the corner. “What would I do without you?”
“Walk around town with paint on your face probably,” he teased, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Now get your shoes on, beautiful.”
“Where we headed?” she asked when they got outside the building.
“Not too far. About a ten-minute walk. It’s a surprise.” He looped her arm around his as they headed across the street.
The weather had finally turned cooler and there was a slight nip in the September air.
“Donuts?” Tori asked as they passed the donut shop on her right.
“I’m not telling.”
“Well, can we at least stop at Starbucks and get a coffee?” She lifted her chin, nostrils flared, as they passed the coffee shop. “I could totally go for an iced latte.”
He laughed. “You and that nose of yours. You're like a bloodhound.”
“Fine, but I still want a coffee.” She sighed in defeat.
“We can get one on the way back. Someone’s expecting us.”
“You’re taking advantage of the fact I can’t see.”
“Yes, I am.” He smirked.
They walked until they reached the residential neighborhood filled with rows of charming houses.
Scott could see the wheels turning in her head trying to understand where he was taking her. “We’re here.” He stopped on a curb in front of a colonial-style brick house.
“And where might that be?” She planted a hand on her hip.
He walked her up the driveway to the cobblestone path that led to the front porch. “You’ve got three stairs.”
Her cane tapped against the steps as they walked up.
Scott and Tori reached the porch where a lady in her mid-forties stood waiting. Scott recognized her from the photo on the web.
“Hello Scott,” she said. “Nice to meet you in person. This must be Victoria?” She extended her hand to Scott as he shook it.
“Yes.” Tori’s brow knitted as she shifted her cane to her left hand, extending her right.
“I’m Tiffani.” She shook Tori’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for meeting on such short notice.” Scott nodded to her.
“Not a problem. We’re lucky that this one became available so fast. Houses in this area don’t come around too often.” She unlocked the door and went inside first. “Come on in.”
Tori grunted and her brow went up. Yeah, she’d figured it out.
“You have your entry here and to your right is the living, to the left the kitchen.” She turned and faced them. “It follows through to a formal dining and office in the back and the staircase is on your right.” The realtor ran her hand across the railing as she went past it. “It goes up to the bedrooms, three upstairs and down to the basement that also has an en suite.”
Her heels clicked along the wood flooring as her voice echoed off the walls of the empty house. “You have solid, hardwood floors through the entire house, your kitchen is all brand new stainless steel, high-end appliances…” Tiffani rattled on for several minutes about the amenities.
“Scott…” Tori protested—her nails digging into his bicep.
“Can you give us a minute?” he asked Tiffani.
The agent kindly looked to them. Tori was frozen in terror, gripping to his arm. “I’ll step outside and give you privacy.” She gave Scott an awkward smile and walked out the front door.
“What are you doing?” Tori barked.
“We’re busting at the seams in your tiny apartment. We need a place of our own. This was the plan, right?” He grabbed her hand and held it.
“I say a lot of things when I’m frustrated, or drunk, or both.” Tori chuckled a little too loud. “But seriously, a house?” She bit her lip and wrung her hands around the handle of her cane.
Being out of control terrified her almost as much as it terrified him. He never wanted to make her feel powerless, trapped, or without her freedom, but he always wanted her to know she was taken care of. Finding this house in her neighborhood was a miracle. He hoped she loved it as much as he did.
She wanted the fairy tale and he was gonna give it to her.
“Think of it as our castle, my princess. I’ll be your knight in shining armor. I’ve already got the metal.” He knocked on the carbon of his prosthetic.
She chuckled. “I’m no freaking princess, and you know it.”
“You’re right, you’re not a princess. You’re my goddamn, fucking queen.”
Seriously, a house?
Her entire body was breaking out in panic sweat.
“You have six steps up, curve to your left that’s a landing, then six more headed up. Go on, I’m right behind you.”
Scott followed behind her as she ran her left hand along the smooth railing, using her cane to hit against each step as she went up.
“The staircase wood is dark-espresso stain, almost black, with white spindles in-between the larger posts. The staircase has a runner along the middle, a grey, herringbone pattern.” She was too petrified to even care that he knew what a herringbone pattern was.
He took her into the first bedroom. “I thought one bedroom here could be your studio. There’s a large window here where you can feel the natural light coming into the room.” He pulled her over to the window and she could feel the warm light hitting her skin. He opened the window and the air blew in and Tori could smell the outdoors. God, she loved the smell of fall. It was so crisp and clean.
“It’s large enough for you to have a canvas, and a desk, also a pottery wheel if you choose. You’ll have plenty of space to do with as you please.”
He led her through the entire house, describing every detail to her, painting a beautiful picture—Scott was always good like that.
“French doors lead outside to the deck.” He opened the door for her. “It’s got a grassy yard, full of mature trees.” Scott’s steps paced back and forth along the wooden deck. “It’s fenced, so we could get a dog, or two. You could apply for a guide dog now.” He sounded so thrilled about that prospect.
Dogs would be a good start to that fairy tale, but she wanted the kids.
Tori folded her hands across the top of her cane and rested her chin.
“We’re still in your neighborhood and within walking distance of all the shops that you’re used to. Your routine wouldn’t have to change much at all. You’d still have all the freedom to go where you need to.”
God, could he be any more thoughtful?
Tori didn’t say anything, but turned and pointed her cane back to the direction of the door, and walked back into the kitchen as Scott followed.
“What do you think?” Tiffani asked them. Tori jolted a bit not knowing she’d come back in.
Tori ran her hand across the counter feeling a wooden texture. “Butcher block?” she asked.
“Yes,” Tiffani said. “Solid walnut, slightly darker than the floor which is.…”
“Hickory,” Tori cut her off giving her a half-smile. “Scott told me.” She traced her fingertips over the kitchen faucet thinking how strange it would be to live somewhere new that she’d never seen with her eyes. She still remembered every bit of her apartment visually. They had to let the apartment go—but it was the last small piece of her life with sight. Her life before they became Tori and Scott.
Scott’s steady hands rested on her shoulders. “What are you thinking?” he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t want to pressure you, but there are several buyers interested in this property. If you think you want it, we need to m
ake an offer right away,” Tiffani urged.
“I think…” her mind flashed to every time she’d rejected his love.
I think it’s time to trade in my old life, she vowed.
“I think we should put in an offer.” Tori grinned. “It’s perfect.”
That night after they put the offer in on the house Tori lay in bed, unable to sleep with nothing but thoughts rolling around in her head.
Tori let out a nervous breath and curled to her side. Lately, she felt that Scott was far too good for her. Maybe after everything she’d lost in her life, he was her redemption. Maybe the universe finally was giving her something pure.
Scott shook and jolted next to her, flinging his arm across her torso.
“Babe?” she muttered low enough she wouldn’t wake him, but loud enough for him to register.
He mumbled something she didn’t quite understand, then his body shook again. In the past month they’d been living together, she’d once again been privy to the nightmares she’d long since forgotten about when they shared a bed for those few months in Keith’s condo.
She’d assumed they were a thing of history, but apparently not. Like her, his past still haunted him. This was the third one this month. They had started back up again when they were in Texas. Normally he’d quiet after a few minutes, so she’d taught herself to let them ride out, knowing he’d eventually calm.
“I’ll fucking kill you, motherfucker…” his body jolted again. “No…no…NO!” his shouts were agonizing, something between a scream and a cry of terror. It sounded like he was being tortured.
Enough was enough.
“Scott!” she leaned over his torso and shook his shoulder. “Baby, wake up. You’re ok. It’s just a bad dream.” She stroked his cheek.
His hand gripped her arm, his fingers digging deep into her bicep. She winced. “Scott!”
Before she knew it, she was flipped over onto her back and all two hundred twenty pounds of him had pinned her down to the mattress.
She tried to speak but struggled with his heavy weight on her, she swatted at him. Her eyes welled up as the lack of oxygen made the room spin. “Please, baby, it’s me,” she finally croaked.
Smoke and Mirrors: (Fire and Fury Book Two) Page 29