by Jordan Marie
But I don’t want a chance with her, if I’m only getting it because she’s so fucking fragile she’s going to shatter on me… That’s fucked up. Torrent… at least the Torrent I knew…deserves only happiness.
Fuck.
Torrent
There should be a limit to how much a person can handle. Today has definitely been mine. I watch as Wolf empties another glass. He’s getting trashed. I understand it. He loved my dad. But, I have zero desire to stay around a drunk man. Actually, I don’t want to be around a man in general right now.
“I’m tired, Wolf. I’m going to go lay down.”
“We haven’t had the bonfire yet, Tor,” he responds, his words slurring just enough to tell me he really is drunk as hell. Wolf can handle his liquor—he can drink most men under the table, even my father. For him to slur means that he is drunker than I’ve ever seen him. Since I’ve known him my entire life, that’s saying something.
“I don’t really want to see the bonfire. That’s for the club. I don’t want to be here for that,” I tell him and it’s the God’s honest truth. I have no wish to see them burn my dad’s cut and say goodbye to him. I wanted to keep the cut and wrap it around me and smell him on it.
“I’ll take you back to your room,” he says and I bite down the urge to scream at him. I don’t want him to take me to my room. I want to be strong enough to take myself back to the room. The truth is, however, that on the few occasions that I’ve walked alone, I keep seeing shadows and hearing laughter. I feel like someone is following me…waiting to jump out and hurt me at any second. I disgust myself with how weak I’ve become, but I’ve not been able to shake it. Of course Wolf doesn’t give me much of a chance to try either and that’s both a blessing and a curse. He’s starting to smother me and I have a feeling that if I don’t try to be independent now, I will never be again.
“I’ll be fine. You need to be here to start the bonfire,” I tell him, hoping I’m right and I will be fine. “Besides, no one will bother me with me wearing your cut,” I remind him—since that’s the very reason he said I should wear it.
“I still want to take you back to the room, Tor. I don’t know some of these men from the other clubs, at least not well enough to trust them. It will take—”
“Hey Wolf, I was wondering if I could ask your advice on something? I’ve been admiring the way your courtyard is set up. The security is top-notch,” that man from earlier—Diesel—says, suddenly appearing behind me.
I look around for Devil, but I don’t see him anywhere. Maybe he left… That’s for the best. For a second, Wolf’s hand tightens on me and then relaxes.
“It will have to wait. I’m going to take Torrent to—”
“Red can take me,” I compromise, wanting to get away. I don’t want to see Devil and part of me is scared with his buddy so close that he will show up. I’ve had enough today… more than enough.
“Sweetheart…”
“I’m fine. Besides, Red is probably more sober than you at this point.” I force myself to smile up at him, to soften the words to make it seem like I’m joking. Inside, I’m annoyed he’s drunk, which is unfair, but I needed my friend today and when he’s drunk, being around him just doesn’t feel the same.
I’m too afraid now to risk being around someone who doesn’t have control…
Wolf leans down and kisses my forehead and motions to Red. I avoid Diesel’s eyes and I walk away.
I really want tonight over with.
Red and I walk back to my room in silence. That’s nothing new; Red and I never talked much with each other. I try to concentrate on walking and ignoring the moving shadows or that feeling like someone is going to jump out of the darkness and hurt me. That alone is exhausting. There’s a part of me wondering if I will ever feel normal again.
Somehow I doubt it.
We make it to my door and I open it with a heartfelt sigh.
“Thanks, Red.”
“Lock the door behind me, Tor. It’s our club, so you should be safe, but there’s too many unknowns here tonight to be entirely sure.”
“Got it,” I tell him, but I want to laugh. If he only knew how quickly I lock doors and windows these days.
“Good enough. Night, girl,” he says. I close the door on him, lock it and lean against it while I let my knees stop shaking.
A second later I feel the knob move and then hear footsteps walking away.
He checked to make sure I locked the door.
That should make me feel better. Instead, I kind of feel like a prisoner…
Devil
I watch as the man with Torrent walks away. It feels like my damn heart is pounding so hard in my chest it could jump out. I stare at her door, wondering if I truly want to see her. There are a million scenarios running through my head. The urge to turn around and walk out of this damn place is strong and it’s warring with my need to talk to Torrent. I don’t know why I’m even here. It’s obvious that Torrent wasn’t who I thought she was. Diesel’s words come back to me.
That girl is haunted.
I reach out my hand to knock on the door with Diesel’s voice still in my head.
“Who… who is it?”
“It’s me,” I answer, wondering if she will open her door. I don’t have to wait long for the answer as I hear the lock tumbler move with a clicking noise that seems extremely slow and loud.
“You shouldn’t be here, Logan,” she says once the door is opened. She doesn’t open all the way; instead it’s barely enough to peek her head out.
“I was just saying that to myself,” I admit, searching her face. My eyes zero in on the spot Diesel mentioned earlier. She definitely has a bruise, it’s faint and clearly hid by makeup, or at least the majority of it is, but it’s there.
Motherfucker it’s there.
“Then why are you here?” she asks.
“Because I care,” I tell her honestly.
Her eyes widen in shock and her lips separate at my answer—but only for the briefest of seconds and then she wipes the surprise away and it’s like a mask comes over her face.
“You shouldn’t.”
“That’s me. Always doing what I shouldn’t,” I respond. “Are you going to let me in there to talk, or are we doing this out here?”
I ask the question and then watch as her hand comes out and she pushes her fingers in her hair to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. Her eyes look down on the ground and that’s when I see the way her hand is trembling.
“I… I don’t think we should talk, Logan.”
“Are you scared of me, Angel?”
She looks up at me then. Her eyes truly are haunted and seeing the pain in them is gut wrenching.
“I don’t want to be,” she says and her voice drops down to the point that I have to strain to hear it.
“I’d never hurt you, Torrent. Never. I give you my word on that.”
“We don’t really know each other.”
“That’s not true. You know me, Angel. I’ve always given you the real me.”
I watch as she rubs her lips together and swallows down her nerves.
“But… people aren’t always who you think they are, Logan.”
“I’m starting to see that,” I tell her and instantly regret it. Her face closes up. I didn’t mean it as a barb directed at her for lying to me—at least not intentionally.
“It’s late. You should go before—”
“Before your boyfriend finds me?” I ask, my anger getting the better of me.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“That cut you’re wearing says differently.”
“Is that why you’re here? To see what he had that you didn’t?” she asks, and for some reason I love what she said. This shows signs—the first signs—of the Torrent I know. The Torrent who… I still want.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Angel. You left me months ago. I’m not looking to pick back up.”
“You’re not?” she asks.
“Hell
, no,” I tell her and I’m pretty sure I’m not completely lying. My attraction to her is not the only reason I’m here.
“Then why?”
“Because whatever else we were, Torrent, I think we were friends.”
“Friends…”
“Yeah, and I think you really look like you could use one right now.”
“Don’t pity me, Logan,” she responds, her eyes suddenly looking haunted again.
“Why would I pity you?”
She studies my face for a bit. She looks so tired I fight the urge to take her into my arms. If ever there was a woman who needed someone to lean on it would be her.
“So you’re here… out of friendship?”
“Is that so hard to believe, Torrent?”
“After the way I left things… Yeah, I guess it is.”
“I admit, the way you kicked me to the curb wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t all bad,” I tell her with a grin—even though nothing about this entire situation is worth smiling about.
It takes a minute, but I see when my meaning registers with her. Her face blooms with a bright pink color. She shakes her head and some of the sadness leaves her eyes. Those subtle changes bring me hope that the Torrent I knew is not completely gone.
“I can’t believe you went there! It was just a m—”
“A moment I will never forget.”
“I was going to say a mistake,” she mumbles, avoiding my gaze.
Unable to stop myself—even if I should—I put my hand along the side of her neck and pull her gaze up to mine, needing her attention.
“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me, Torrent. Hell, I think about touching you… I think about you often.”
“You should go, Logan,” she answers, fear threaded in her voice.
“You could go with me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because there are things we need to talk about. Things we didn’t get to finish.”
“Devil—”
“You call me Logan, Angel. You’ve always called me Logan.”
“Things are different now, Dev—”
I put my fingers on her lips, stopping her from talking.
“Logan,” I remind her.
“Things are different now, Logan.”
“So we’re different. Does that mean we can’t talk, especially since I’m in town?”
“Is talking all you want?” she asks. Right now wouldn’t be a good time to be truthful; besides, I don’t honestly know what I want from Torrent anyway.
“Isn’t that what friends do, Torrent? Talk?”
“I—”
“I’m staying at the Golden Pecker off of 63. I’ll be there for a few more days. Do you know it?”
“You’re horrible,” she says and she smiles—it’s weak, but it’s a smile.
“It sounded like the place was made for me,” I whisper, stepping in a little closer, and giving an easygoing shrug—like I don’t have a care in the world.
“It’s called The Golden Woodpecker,” she mutters.
“Potato, Po-tat-toe,” I mutter, watching her eyes and memorizing the bright flecks in her dark eyes and silently counting them.
“I shouldn’t,” she says, but she doesn’t outright say no, so that encourages me.
For a minute, we’re so close that I can smell her sweet vanilla scent and it fires the memories I’ve been trying to bury. A man could get drunk on that scent. She stares up at me and there’s not much space between our lips. I could lean in a little farther and kiss her. The urge is there and I’m having trouble finding the reasons why I shouldn’t…
Until…
“What’s going on here?” Wolf says, his voice harsh.
And just like that the chance is gone and I see the light go out of Torrent’s eyes.
Motherfucker!
“I’m merely saying goodbye to an old friend. No harm in that, is there? The woman is allowed to talk to old friends, isn’t she?” I ask, innocently. I see the hate in his eyes; he’s not trying to hide it. I can’t say as I blame him. If our roles were reversed I’d probably hate me too.
“Torrent, are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks instead of answering me.
“I’m fine, Wolf. Devil was only offering me his condolences.”
“That was awful nice of him,” Wolf answers, his voice cold.
“That’s me. Mr. Nice Guy. Torrent, you know where to find me if you ever want to talk,” I tell her, walking backwards so I can keep my eyes on both of them as I walk away.
“I’ll be fine. Have a safe trip back home,” she answers.
I ignore the disappointment I feel at her words. Give them both a half-salute with my hand and keep walking away.
Torrent
“How’s my favorite girl?” Wolf asks the next morning.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal. It’s early, probably around five by now. I’ve been wide awake since four and it was becoming apparent I wasn’t going to go back to sleep, so I got up. The nightmares aren’t new, but sometimes they are more vivid than other nights. Yesterday’s ceremony brought too many memories to the forefront.
“Why are you awake?” I ask him, stifling a yawn.
“I’ve got business in Alabama today. Me and a couple others are going to head out soon. I’d take you with me… but…”
“Spare me. I’ve never wanted in the club business. I don’t really want to go to Alabama on the back of a bike either. It’s like a hundred degrees outside.”
“Are you sure you’re a biker’s daughter, Tor?” Wolf laughs and I can’t stop the sucker punch of pain at his words that nearly robs me of my breath. I know it shows in my face the minute Wolf changes. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’m an idiot,” he growls, squatting down in front of me. He turns my body to face him, resting a hand on each of my legs. “I’m a moron,” he says, sadness thick in everything about him.
When he’s like this I’m reminded of the Wolf that has always been in my life. The one who cares about me, tries to take care of me and protect me. The Wolf who I once brought to school for show and tell and he proceeded to scare all the bullies at school who were making me their favorite target—not to mention scare the principal and teacher into being more aware of the problem.
He was my hero. And now I’m very much reminded of that man… the man I care for. I reach over and use my thumb to brush out a wrinkle under his eye. His eyes are green and when he stares at me like this they warm in color.
“Stop. You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will, Tor. You’re strong, stronger than any of us ever gave you credit for—even your dad.”
“I don’t feel very strong right now, Wolf. To be honest, I’d like to check out for a bit and sleep the world away.”
“Then you do that, sweetheart. You do whatever you need to do and let your heart—” He says as he brings his hand to my chest and places it over the area where my heart is located. “—and your mind rest.” He finishes his words by leaning in and kissing my forehead.
Before I can think about it, or even stop myself, I lean into him and wrap my arms around him. The tears—which always stay close to the surface—begin without warning. Wolf goes down on his ass, right there in the middle of the floor—and pulls me into his lap, rocking me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him in a sob, burying my head into his shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You’re having a hard time. I’m going to cancel my trip today,” he says.
“You don’t have to do that, Wolf.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. I can go tomorrow, it’s not so urgent it can’t wait a day. Today, you and I are going to get on my bike and spend the day like we used to.”
“I’m a little old to go to Pizza Playland, Wolf,” I laugh.
“So you say. Get dressed and let me prove you wrong.”
“You can’t be serious,” I tell him, pulling away to look at his face.
&n
bsp; He brings his fingers up to wipe my tears away. “Totally serious. Get dressed and I’ll show you.”
“But, you have things to do, Wolf. I—”
“I think you’re underestimating my love of pizza while watching dancing mechanical bears.”
I can’t help but smile, even through my tears.
“Go get dressed, Tor. Time is wasting and I can’t have my best girl standing me up and making me wait all day.”
“You’re sure about this?” I ask, suddenly looking forward to the day.
“Never been more sure,” he says simply, but leaving no room for doubt.
“Thank you, Wolf,” I tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
I hold him close and breathe in his warm scent, which brings in memories of my childhood—tender, loving memories of my youth, memories that make me feel…
Safe.
Devil
“You ready to head out?” Diesel asks, opening my door wider. I’m sitting on the bed, my bags packed. I really thought I was ready, but I’m not. I look up at him and I know he sees it before I say anything. “You’re not leaving,” he says, walking deeper into the room and closing the door behind him.
“I don’t think I can yet.”
“I thought you talked to her last night?”
“I did, but—”
“It’s two in the afternoon, Devil. Man, if she was going to show up, she would have by now,” Diesel says and I can’t disagree with him, not really. But… something is nagging at me.
“Something doesn’t feel right. I can’t leave yet,” I tell him finally.
“Your gut talking to you?”
“Something is,” I respond.
My whole body is tense. I feel like I’m preparing for something and I don’t have any fucking idea what it is. It’s that feeling I get sometimes that there’s a damn shoe over my head and that usually means it’s going to drop sometime soon. I thought I had pretty much gotten over whatever fascination I had with Torrent, but my time with her last night proved me a fucking liar. I felt more alive standing next to her than I’ve felt in forever. I can’t explain the pull between me and Torrent, but it’s there and from what I saw, even with everything she’s been through, she still feels it too.