My Torin

by K. Webster

  “I’m sorry, Casey. I never meant to hurt you.”

  Protect her. Protect her. You must protect her.

  “Y-You l-l-let m-me love you.”

  “Loving someone isn’t a bad thing,” I murmur, my nose nuzzling against her hair, trying to memorize her scent. “Love isn’t something you’re supposed to shield yourself from. You’re supposed to find it and snatch it up, sweetheart.”

  “N-Nobody ever loved me b-before. I f-felt loved here and it’ll be g-gone soon.” She sobs so hard I think she’ll be sick.

  I wish I could go back in time and make things right for her from the very get-go. She deserved better than what life doled out to her. Others’ selfish choices left her alone and unloved.

  “Shhh,” I coo. “You are loved here. It’s not going anywhere. Love doesn’t just disappear. My mom and dad are gone, but I still feel the love they had for me.”

  She sobs until she’s dried up and the sounds coming from her are pained moans. “I never had a family. You teased me, Tyler. You teased me with what you couldn’t give me.”

  Guilt gnaws at me. It pains me that I brought her into my life only to tell her I’m dying, but I don’t feel bad for selfishly having her with us the past couple of months. She breathed life into my upcoming death. The sadness was overshadowed by her.

  I brought her here for Torin, but I didn’t realize I found her for me too.

  The affection. The talks. The eye contact.

  Being with a brother who doesn’t show emotion and refusing to date knowing no one deserves to be with a man with one foot in a grave meant I was lonely. I just needed a connection. Casey connects me to this life more than anything else I’ve done lately. She makes me focus on the little things. The sound of laughter. The chilly bite of a snowflake on your cheeks. The savory taste of a well-cooked steak. I’m not absorbed in growing our fortune to leave behind for when I’m gone. I’m focused on living in the moment—enjoying every second of it.

  “I don’t want to fight and I can’t lose you,” I tell her, my voice cracking. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life. I need you to be here…until the end. I’ve tried to give you everything to make you happy, but all I want is this one thing. One simple thing you can give me in return. You. Your smiles. Your voice. Your touch. I just need you.”

  She lets out a wail but turns in my arms, clutching desperately onto me. Her fingers claw at my shirt as she buries her wet face against my neck. I hug her tight and stroke her hair. I comfort my girl—our girl—as she grieves. Selfishly, I hug her because she’s the only affection I’ve been afforded in quite some time.

  “I love you, Casey. You need to hear that. I know you’ll never be mine, not like that, but you can be mine like this. Just for a little while.” Tears streak down my temples. “Just for a little while.”

  “I’m sorry,” she breathes against my neck. “I don’t want to fight. I love you too, Tyler.”

  My heart swells and I smile as I kiss her head. “Today, we’ll cry this shit out and then tomorrow, I want to spend my time with you and Torin. My family.”

  “How are you so strong?”

  “I’ve never been given a choice not to be,” I utter. “I’ve been given challenges my entire life. Challenges not meant for the weak.”

  I’ve been running and running. Chasing and chasing. I finally have all I ever wanted wrapped up in my arms. Fucking sucks it’ll all soon be over.

  “Like me? I’m a challenge.”

  “You’re a reward, sweetheart. You’re my reward for this difficult life.”

  She sighs and a small chuckle escapes her. “I’ve been called a lot of things but never someone’s reward.”

  “That’s because you’ve been around the wrong people.” And I’ll be goddamned if I ever let that happen again. “You’re finally where you belong—where you can hear the things you deserve to hear.”

  “How will I go on without you? For Torin? Is that what you did?”

  I squeeze her. “With Torin, sweetheart. And that’s exactly what I did when our parents died. I went on with Torin. He’s not a burden. He’s a lot stronger than people give him credit for. One day you’ll see.”

  Casey lifts up and stares at me. In the dark room, I can’t make out her features, but I want to. Her fingertips run through my hair. “Say it again, Ty.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Some days, Tyler doesn’t seem sick at all. His color is good and he’s energetic. It’s his smiles that are so deceptive. Wide and brilliant and never-ending. They grow any time his eyes land on me. It simultaneously thrills me and crushes me.

  “Scrabble?” Tyler questions, his dark brow lifted in question.

  Torin drops the box onto the table. His lips are pursed and his hood is pulled over his head, hiding his eyes from us.

  “I’m not good at Scrabble,” I say with a groan. “What about Monopoly? I can clean house with that game.”

  “We don’t have Monopoly,” Tyler says, laughing. “But I’ll go easy on you. Torin will just kick both our asses, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  Torin’s features remain impassive, but I bet if I were to text him, he’d say some smug comment.

  “Fine,” I huff, basking in Tyler’s thankful smile.

  Torin robotically starts setting up the game on the coffee table. I sit beside Tyler on the sofa. He links our fingers together. Now that I know Tyler is sick, it’s like my feelings that were budding for Torin have been put on hold. I don’t have the time or patience to explore that right now because my time with Tyler is limited. I don’t want to waste it. Time is a precious commodity that becomes more valuable by the second.

  Absently, Tyler brings our linked hands to his mouth and he kisses the back of mine. A shiver ripples through me. He squeezes my hand before resting it in his lap. Torin begins reciting the rules to the game as if they’re etched into his brain. I only half listen because Tyler is rubbing circles on my hand with his thumb. It reminds me of a time his thumb was on my nipple. Of course, he was asleep, but still. He’s touched me in a place no one else has before.

  “At midnight, you’re supposed to kiss someone,” Tyler says. “Good luck for the new year and all.”

  Torin grunts and snaps his head up at us, brown eyes piercing me with a hot stare that turns my insides to mush.

  Tyler laughs as if he’s amused by his brother’s reaction. “Not me, little brother.” They have some unspoken bro code going on, but I can read between the lines. Tyler is hinting that Torin should kiss me.

  “What happens if you don’t kiss anyone?” I challenge.

  “Bad luck,” Tyler teases. “Lots and lots of bad luck.”

  Torin begins repeating the game’s instruction, an irritated edge to his voice. Soon the awkward talk of midnight kissing gets shoved to the side as our game begins. For not having the widest vocabulary, I hold my own in Scrabble. I can tell Tyler is struggling, his brain working against him, because he keeps rubbing his temples and placing wrong tiles on the board. Since I’m sitting beside him, I help him correct them. Torin is focused and unaware of his brother’s mental fog. I remember the symptoms of his cancer and this is one of them. It makes me want to urge him to go lie down instead, but he’s stubborn and I know he won’t go.

  After several games and the stroke of midnight nears, Torin becomes frustrated and starts dismantling the game.

  “We were in the middle of a round,” I gripe.

  Tyler pats my knee with his hand. “Izz fine.” He slurs as though he’s been drinking. My heart squeezes in my chest.

  “It’s not fine. He’s being a brat,” I huff.

  Torin snaps his head my way and glowers at me. “No.”

  I arch a brow at him. “No? You’re acting pissy and quitting. That’s called being a brat.”

  He fists both hands and jerks to his feet, no longer interested in putting the game away. “Nooooo.”

  “Torrrr,” Tyler murm
urs, his body relaxing against the cushions.

  Torin glares at his brother for a long moment before he bolts. I watch him pop open the wall and slip behind the panel, disappearing almost instantly.

  I turn my attention to Tyler, who smiles at me, almost lazily. His eyes are half-lidded, but his gaze is on me.

  “Zzzo pretty,” he says thickly, his hand rising to touch my hair. He blinks slowly and smiles wider. “Izz almozt midnight.”

  Anxiety lurches inside me, not because it’s almost midnight but because he’s slurring and behaving unusually. Like the day he pulled me to him and grabbed my ass. From what Torin told me that day, he’ll be susceptible to mood changes.

  “Shhh,” I whisper as I stroke his cheek. “Just rest.”

  His brows crash together and he swallows, heartbreak shining in his eyes. “Comme herre.”

  I rise on my knees on the sofa beside him, unsure exactly what he wants. When his big hands find my waist and he guides me onto his lap, I sit dutifully with my thighs straddling his sides. He tilts his head and regards me in wonder, as though I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. It makes my heart pitter-patter.

  “Do you need your medicine?” I ask, my fingers having a mind of their own as I stroke the hair away from his forehead.

  “J-Juzt n-need yeww,” he stammers out. His hands run circles on my hips and heat flickers inside me. I want his hands to explore me everywhere.

  “I’m right here,” I assure him. “Not going anywhere.”

  He smiles, my words pleasing him. “He l-left. It’ll t-turn m-midnight and he’ll mizz out on the bezt thing of hiz life.” Brown eyes, like melted chocolate, drink me in.

  “He’s never been kissed?” I question.

  “N-Never.”

  “Neither have I.”

  Clarity finds Tyler’s gaze and his hand lifts to palm my cheek. He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. Then, his hand cups the back of my neck. Slowly, he draws me near to him. My heart rate is erratic and unsteady.

  “A b-beautiful woman dezerves to be kizzed at m-midnight,” he murmurs, his thumb now stroking the side of my throat.

  “Tyler,” I whine. I’m not sure what I want, but this moment means everything to me. My skin is alive. My heart is out of control. Desire swims through me like a shark in shallow waters—starved and desperate to feed.

  “I c-could kizz yeww,” he suggests, “b-but…” Again, his eyes flash with sadness.

  “But he left. You’re here.” I lean forward and close my eyes. “You could kiss me.”

  The fancy grandfather clock hits midnight and starts donging. I’m afraid he won’t kiss me, but then warm lips brush against mine. Soft and unsure. As if he’s testing my reaction. When I part my lips, a small groan escapes him. He pulls me closer until our mouths fuse together. I’ve never gotten close enough to anyone to want to kiss them before. Boys were jerks and I wasn’t into girls.

  But this?

  This beautiful, kind, loving man?

  I want everything he can give to me in this moment.

  His fingers slide into my hair as his tongue enters my mouth, swiping past my lips to seek out my own tongue in an expert way. All I can do is allow him to kiss me because I sure as hell don’t know what I’m doing. His tongue against mine sends a thrill shooting through me. My panties grow damp and the urge to rock against his body is intense. I settle for gripping his shoulders to keep me still. He sucks on my bottom lip hard enough for me to moan, but then his tongue is back to thrashing against mine in a desperate way.

  He tastes good. He smells good.

  Oh God.

  His hand has moved to my ass and he grips it tight. The other one remains threaded in my hair so he can guide our movements. He sucks on my tongue, making me go dizzy with need. If I knew kissing felt like someone was stealing your soul from your body one molecule at a time, I would’ve signed up for this shit a long time ago.

  “Casey,” he murmurs against my mouth.

  He pulls my ass until I’m nestled against his hard cock. It sends currents of electricity jolting from my core throughout my body. I quickly find myself rubbing against him through our clothes, seeking out more pleasure. My panties are so wet, I wonder if he’ll feel it somehow.

  We find a rhythm of me grinding against him and our tongues dancing to the same beat. Both of us are moaning and breathing heavily. I’m not sure where this is going, but I know I won’t stop it. I want whatever it is he’ll give me.

  I love Tyler.

  So fucking much.

  His palm slips under my hoodie and he squeezes my breast over my bra. I cry out in pleasure. When his fingers pull my bra down so he can rub his thumb against my nipple, I melt against him.

  “Oh, God,” I whimper against his mouth. “That feels good.”

  He jerks his head back and stiffens beneath me. I freeze, worried I did something wrong. His body begins jolting like he’s being struck by lightning. When I see that his eyes are rolled back in his head and drool is running from his mouth, I scream.

  A blood-curdling, ear-piercing scream.

  Holy shit, he’s having a seizure.

  Everything has been a blur. The seizure. The ambulance. The hospital. But he’s alive. Sick, as usual, but alive. They’re keeping him overnight in the hospital for observations, but he was his normal self when he begged Torin and me to go back home, promising it wasn’t his day to die. And since my soul is still intact, I know he hasn’t left us yet. Even as I lie in my bed wearing one of his sweatshirts that smells like him. Tomorrow, he’ll be back home.

  Home.

  This is my home.

  He’s begged me not to leave once he’s gone.

  I’ve promised him that I won’t, but my heart is a liar sometimes.

  I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling in the pitch dark. The fire has died out, but nothing could warm my cold soul at this point. Tyler is dying and there’s nothing I can do about it. One day he’ll be gone and he’ll take my heart with him. Nobody breathes life and love into my lonely existence like he does.

  Torin.

  My heart does a skip in my chest. Torin is complicated and tricky. Just when I think I’ve figured him out, he slips from my grasp. Tyler is so much simpler. He wears his heart on his sleeve for me to take. Torin hides his in his impenetrable fortress.

  As if speaking of the devil, I sense him.

  He’s soundless, but I can feel him in my pores. Torin isn’t the type to hug me and promise me everything will be okay. In fact, at the hospital, he didn’t speak a word. I had to deal with the doctors. Beg for answers. Demand to get to see Tyler once he was settled. I had to do it all. Torin followed behind me as though I were in charge.

  I’m eighteen, never had a family, and way out of my league.

  I’m not Tyler. The things he handles and endures, I’m incapable of. And, yet, Torin acts as though I’m the one who’s supposed to deal with all this.

  “Casey-Casey.”

  The bed sinks down and someone crawls toward me. Unlike that night that he freaked me out, I don’t cower away. In the darkness—in my silence—I challenge him to step up. The mattress depresses around me as he cages me in—his knees on either side of my hips and his hands near my head. He inhales loudly before lowering his face to mine. I don’t flinch when his nose nudges mine, much like a lion would his mate. A wordless check to see if she’s okay.

  She. Is. Not. Okay.

  A choked sound rattles from my chest. Tears well and then fall down the sides of my face. His nose runs along my flesh, sniffing out my tears, and then he licks them. Licks away the salty wetness. For some reason, this intimate show of affection causes me to cry harder.

  Torin is so difficult to understand, but he tries. He tries so hard. It’s not his fault we don’t speak the same language. His tongue laps away at me lower and lower until he’s at my neck. I groan when his teeth drag along my flesh. They grip my skin and he tugs. It’s painful yet grounding. I’m stuck right in this moment with him
, my thoughts, for once, not running rampant.

  “Casey-Casey,” he breathes against my skin.

  His body crushes against mine and I can hardly breathe. The weight on top of me is strangely comforting. Something tangible I can hold on to. As my emotion overtakes me, I wrap my arms around his solid bare torso and hug him tight. He’s stiff in my embrace, but his hot tongue tells a different story. It licks me as though it’s its life mission. To taste and tease and worship. My eyes roll back as pleasure zings through me. I want to wrap my legs around him and beg him to make me forget.

  But then Tyler’s sweet, smiling face is in the forefront of my mind. Confusing sensations tug at my heart. I let out a devastated cry that Torin seems to interpret. His licking goes from hungry back to comforting. Soft. Slow. Sweet. I relax as the tears fall without any hope of stopping them.

  He licks.

  I cry.

  He licks.

  I cry.

  His heavy body crushes mine as exhaustion takes over. My lids drag as sleep starts to steal me. Our breathing becomes one. I clutch tightly onto him, a silent plea for him not to leave me. When his body slides off me slightly but doesn’t let go, I want to cry out in victory.

  “Mine,” he whispers.

  Even in our sleep, we desperately cling to each other.

  And for once, my Torin doesn’t run away.

  I wake slightly disoriented. The room is cooler than what I’m used to, darker, and missing the usual comforting sounds. My cats aren’t nearby, but I’m also not overwhelmed by panic. Because even in my slightly confused state, I feel her. Casey’s warm, soft body is wrapped around mine. Her wispy blond hair tickles my face as she breathes against my neck. The rhythm is slow and measured, an indication she’s sleeping deeply.

  I crave to wrap my arm around her and pull her tighter to me. To smash her tits against my chest and grab a handful of her ass. Like a normal fucking man would. Like Tyler would. Thoughts of my brother are a bewildering mix of anger, betrayal, and utter devastation.

  He’s dying.