Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1)

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Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) Page 7

by Carian Cole


  "Can we come inside?" I ask.

  He swings the door open. "Okay, bro. You lookin' for something special?"

  I've already noticed the white lines on the coffee table, the pill bottles, and the drug paraphernalia littering the house. A fawn pit bull is sitting beside the ratty mustard yellow couch, watching our every move. She has no visible scars, so she's most likely a pet or a guard dog.

  "We heard you have fighting dogs." Tanner says, moving to my right.

  The guy nods, and his suspicious expression shows he's not quite sure how he wants to react to us. "I might. You lookin' to buy or to bet? Shit goes down on Friday and Saturday."

  My teeth clench. "Does that all happen here?"

  His eyes shift from me to my boys and it's evident he's not sure he can trust us. "Mostly, yeah."

  "How much you asking for a fighter?" Tanner asks, lighting up a cigar.

  "Depends on the dog. We got puppies you can train yourself or we got experienced dogs that will fight to the death and win every ring. They're fucking gnarly terrors, man, and they go for a few grand if you're serious."

  "Oh we're very serious," I say calmly. "We're with Devils’ Wolves dog rescue."

  "What the fuck is that?"

  "We rescue abused dogs," I answer. "Dog fighting is illegal."

  "You the fuckin' cops?" He steps back, almost tripping over one of the several beer bottles on the stained carpet.

  "No, but we work with them and could have them here in about ten minutes if you don't cooperate," Tanner says. "And it looks to me like you might not want the cops here. Unless you're snorting baby powder over there."

  His nostrils flare at us. "Fuck you guys. Get out of my house."

  I shake my head. "Not without the dogs."

  His eyes shift over to the dog. "Achtung!" He commands, and the dog jumps to its feet, its eyes riveted on me.

  "Sitz!" I meet the dog’s brown eyes, unwavering, and she obeys my command and sits. "Bleib!" I tell the dog to stay and turn my hard gaze to its owner after I'm convinced the dog will stay put. "You think I don't know fuckin' German?"

  "You're gonna regret that, motherfucker," his arm swings up and I quickly block him. Delivering a hard punch to his face, he goes down fast to the floor. I've learned that making another man's dog listen to your commands is right up there with sleeping with his woman - they don't like it.

  Sled flashes me an evil grin. "Nice."

  "Thanks." Hitting him felt good. Too good. It's eased some of my anger from last night, at least for the moment.

  I kick the guy on the floor with my boot and he rolls over, holding his bleeding face. "Get up, buddy. We're not done. Unless you like laying in your own garbage?"

  "What the fuck do you assholes want?" He stands slowly, wiping the blood from his broken, crooked nose with the back of his hand.

  "We just want the dogs, that's it. We don't want your drugs, or your money. We won't even tell the cops what we saw here. The deal is we take the dogs and you agree to never fight dogs again. Simple as that. You can sit here for the rest of your fuckin' life and get stoned man, we don't care. We just want the dogs."

  He attempts to talk but I raise my hand, making him flinch. "There's no debates. Either you let us take the dogs, calm and quiet, or we're calling the police, and that's gonna go way worse for you. Your choice on how much you want to lose."

  Tanner leans down and pets the dog, which is still in the stay position, and it wags its tail at his gentle touch.

  "Take the fucking dogs." The guy mumbles, his voice thick and nasally.

  "Good choice. How many you got?"

  "Eight adults and four puppies downstairs and there's four bait dogs out in the fucking garage."

  Puppies and bait dogs. What a scumbag.

  I haul my arm back and crash my fist into his face again, knocking him back down onto the floor. "That's for the puppies and bait dogs, asshole. You might want to stay down there, after all."

  My brother nudges my arm. "You in a bad mood today, Tor?"

  "You could say that."

  It takes us an hour to load the dogs up into the transport cages and into the back of my truck. Three of the dogs are in bad shape with fresh open wounds and ripped, oozing ears. The puppies are young, maybe eight weeks old, kept in the basement on the cold blood-stained floor but still wagging their tails. The bait dogs are assorted breeds, timid and shaking, and were most likely strays or picked up on Craigslist ads from 'free to good home' offers. Luckily, the puppies are young enough where they'll forget the horrors they must have witnessed the first few weeks of their lives, but the bait dogs will need rehabilitation.

  On our way out, we take the pretty fawn pittie that was in the living room because I don't trust that asshole with any dog, pet or otherwise. Once an abuser, always an abuser.

  My mother and a local vet who volunteers for situations like this are waiting for us when we arrive at the shelter to triage the dogs that need medical attention first. While they're doing that, we bring the other dogs to the quarantine area and set them up in their kennels with fresh food, water, and beds. Most of them seem pretty friendly, which is a good sign they'll be able to be put in foster homes and retrained. My guess is the guy who had these dogs was new to this sick hobby and hadn't had them for very long. I pet each dog softly on the head before we leave. It's a new beginning for them, and I always feel like a small part of my soul goes with each one.

  My father used to tell us to try to make a difference in someone's life every day. Even if it's only to make them smile. Today, I made a difference. It was just for a bunch of dogs, but it still counts.

  After dropping Tanner and Sled back off at the shop I decide to take the rest of the day off to unwind and get some sleep. Lisa calls my cell just as I'm turning down my street. She has the uncanny ability to always call me when I don't want to talk to anyone.

  "Yeah?" I say into my phone, not doing much to hide my irritation.

  "Hey. You didn't answer your phone earlier so I called the shop and they said you went home."

  "We took fighting dogs out of some guy’s place this morning. I'm in a shit mood so I just wanted to go home and sleep it off."

  "Isn't that something the cops should be doing?"

  My teeth grind together. "We have an arrangement. We go in first."

  "Oh. Do you think you'll be in a better mood tonight?"

  "Maybe," Let me check my crystal ball first. "Why?"

  "I was thinking we could meet at the bar, maybe play some pool? I'll be there with one of my girlfriends and thought it would be nice if you hung out with us."

  Lisa either wants to show me off or let her friend psycho-analyze me. Neither of those options sit well with me but I feel like seeing Lisa will be a good distraction after the weirdness of last night so I relent and agree.

  "Alright. I have to load my feeding traps but after that I can stop by. First I'm going home to shower and nap."

  "Great. I can't wait to see you."

  I wish I felt that way too, but I don't. Lisa seems to want something I can't give her, although I've yet to figure out what that actually is, and I'm starting to wonder if even she knows. Story of my life. After spending almost twelve years of my life back and forth with Sydni, I'm in no rush to get seriously involved or becoming another second best to someone. I'm totally fucking done with that bullshit.

  My stereo system is blasting when I walk through the back door, and Kenzi is pushing the vacuum across the floor, dancing, completely oblivious that I'm even in the house. I watch her in amusement for a few minutes before she finally sees me and jumps about a foot in the air.

  "Tor!" she turns off the vacuum. "You scared the hell out of me."

  "Aren't you supposed to be napping?"

  "I couldn't sleep. And I felt bad for making you drive around last night so I wanted to make it up to you by cleaning."

  Shaking my head, I cross the kitchen to the sink and remove my sterling silver rings, revealing my bloody knuckles

underneath. I douse my hand with dish soap, wincing at the sting, and rinse with warm water.

  "What happened?" she's next to me now, peering into the sink at my hand, and then up at my face. "You're bleeding. And you have a cut on your head," she lightly touches my forehead.

  "I hit the guy with the dogs."

  She pulls about two feet of paper towel off the roll and hands it to me. "The dog fighting guy?"

  "Yeah. We got the dogs, though. That's all that matters."

  She crosses her arms and leans her hip against the counter, and I'm relieved to see she's got shorts on under my t-shirt now. "I thought you weren't going to hit people anymore after your stint in the clink?"

  I glare at her. "Drop it. He deserved it."

  Ignoring me, she grabs my hand and inspects it. "You should put some antibiotic cream on this."

  "I will."

  "Want me to kiss it better like you used to do for me?" she teases.

  Fuck, yes.

  Pulling my hand out of hers, I bite my tongue to make sure my thoughts don't escape out of my mouth.

  "Did you text or call your dad?" I ask, changing the subject. "I'm sure he's wondering how your night went."

  "Yes. I told him the prom was boring and that I was at your house cleaning and making you dinner. Jason had the nerve to text me, do you believe that?"

  My old friend anger has returned. "What the hell did he say?" She follows me down the hall to the bathroom and watches me put ointment on my hand.

  "He said he was sorry for being a douche."

  "He fucking should be."

  She chews her lip. "Chloe told me that Julie told her that while Jason was still drunk last night, he was telling everyone at the party that my porn star body was wasted on a prude like me and I was a big tease. I'm afraid everyone is talking about me now. So his apology doesn't mean much."

  Porn star body? That's it. Jason is going to eat my fist.

  "Kenzi, he's an asshole punk who's pissed because he didn't get laid. I bet everyone at the party was equally wasted. No one will even remember this in a few days."

  Her blinking watery eyes crush my heart. "I hate that people might be saying bad things about me. I don't bother anyone, I'm nice to everyone. I just stay in my own little bubble. And they always find something to start with me about. First Dad's band, then my mom, then having money, being too quiet, and now this. I can't wait to graduate and get away from all of them."

  I stick a bandage over my knuckle, wishing I could put one on what's hurting her, too. "They're immature and jealous, Kenzi. Unfortunately, it won't change much as you get older. There's always going to be people who will treat us badly because they're jealous or just unhappy with their own damn lives. You have to rise above it and do your best to ignore them and focus on your own life and happiness," she gives me a sad little nod. "You're a beautiful girl, Angel. You're smart and you have a great personality. You have an awesome family that loves you, you have Chloe, and you're getting a huge inheritance when you turn twenty-five. You can do whatever you want with your life. You're going to be just fine, trust me."

  "What about you?"

  I frown at her. "What about me?"

  She runs her finger along the edge of the sink, her eyes following it intently. "You said I have my family and Chloe, but you didn't mention you."

  "Oh," I rub the back of my neck, unsure of what to say. "I'll always be here for you. But you're getting older now. I'm sure you'll have a boyfriend soon that isn't a dickhead. You'll be doing your modeling and calligraphy and chasing after all your dreams, making new friends...all that stuff. You're not going to be wanting to be hanging around with an old boring guy like me."

  "You're not boring, Tor."

  "I promised your dad I'd look out for you when your mom had the accident. You won't be needing me around much anymore."

  "Oh...I guess you're right."

  I ruffle her hair and step out of the bathroom, uncomfortable with the feelings I'm having over not spending as much time with her in the future. Why should it matter? She's just my best friend's kid that I helped take care of.

  In my bedroom, I pull off my shirt and toss it at the laundry basket in the corner, and I'm surprised when I turn around to see her standing in the doorway, still with a sad, worried expression in her eyes.

  "Don't worry about the idiots at school, Kenzi. Just ignore them. What's left, like two weeks of school?"

  "That's not what I'm thinking about." She watches me pull clean clothes out of my dresser and lay them out on my bed.

  "Then what's wrong?"

  "I never imagined there would be a time when I would see you less. I'll miss you."

  "I'll miss you, too, but you can see me anytime you want, or call me. You know where to find me."

  "I hope so," She sniffles. "I talked to your mom about continuing to volunteer at the shelter, too. She said she would love it. And I want to keep helping you with your rescues, if you still want me to."

  "Of course I do. Fuck, you can still clean my house after you graduate if you want to, and I'll still pay you. Nothing has to change, Kenzi. I just figured you'd be moving on, wanting to do different things with your life and not hanging around with me all the time."

  "I like hanging around with you." The soft tone of her voice, and the way her eyes are roving over my chest is making me feel like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. My house suddenly feels insanely small and lacking oxygen.

  "Then you can. Anytime," I refuse to let my eyes lock with hers. I don't want to see what's there, or what might not be there.

  "Good."

  "Actually there was something else I wanted to ask you but I was going to talk to Ash about it first. But since we're already talking, I'll just ask you directly. The girl who works the front register at the shop and greets our customers and books appointments is leaving in September."

  "Gretchen?"

  "Yeah. Her husband is getting transferred to Connecticut so they're moving. I wanted to ask you if you wanted the job. It doesn't pay much, but you at least know about bikes and you know -"

  "Yes. I want to." She says before I can finish, without any hesitation. "I would love that."

  "You're sure? It's not very exciting."

  "I don't care."

  "I just kinda feel like you're doing everything for me. The house cleaning, volunteering with my mom, and now this. I don't want you to think I'm turning you into my own personal slave." And fuck...that's wicked appealing.

  Her tongue slides across her bottom lip. "I don't mind at all. I love all of it."

  I tear my eyes off her mouth and walk across my room to open the window. I need air. Lots of it. Badly.

  "Okay, then it's settled. Now I'm going to take a shower, grab a quick nap, we'll load the traps, then I'll take you home. Sound good?"

  "Yes, of course. I made lasagna, I just have to put it in the oven when you're ready to eat."

  Damn. I figured she would have just blown that idea off, but she really made me dinner. And one of my favorite dishes, to boot. When was the last time anyone cooked for me who wasn't my mother? I can't remember.

  "That sounds great. Wake me up around four and we'll eat."

  "Okay. I'm going to nap on your couch. I'll set the alarm on my phone so we don't end up sleeping 'til tomorrow." She finally smiles at me, some of the sadness in her eyes fading.

  I close my door when she leaves, which I've never done before. When she stayed here when she was little, she would leave the guest room in the middle of the night, drag about ten stuffed animals and her favorite blanket up onto my bed, and sleep on my king-sized bed with me. I'd usually wake up with a teddy bear or two rammed into my back.

  I'm worried with her feeling sad she might try to crawl onto my bed with me again.

  And I'm not sure I wouldn't like it.

  5

  Kenzi

  Kenzi ~ age five

  Toren ~ age twenty

  "Can we do anything for you, bro?" Asher ask
s.

  I shake my head. "No...I just needed to get away from my family."

  He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Understood. Anything you need, just let us know."

  "Thanks."

  Ember stands in front of me, concern all over her face. "Tor, please sit. You look like you're going to drop." Dazed, I sit in the chair I always sit in, and she kneels in front of me and pulls off my shoes. "Ash, honey, go get him some water." She smiles up at me as he goes off to the kitchen. "You just need to rest. It's been a long few days, you're exhausted and mentally drained."

  Ash comes back with a glass of water and hands it to me. "It's okay to let yourself grieve, Tor. You've been like a fucking rock since it happened."

  "My family needs me to be strong for them. I can't fall apart."

  "I get that, man. But you need to let yourself feel. Cry if you have to. You're safe here with us, you know that. You can act all tough in front of them, but here you don't have to."

  I sip my water slowly. I'm afraid to fall apart. I'm afraid I'll never go back together again.

  "We love you," Ember says, having no idea how much her words are killing me.

  "I know."

  "We're gonna go in the other room and leave you alone for a while. Just yell if you need us."

  "Thanks...for everything you guys have done for me and my family."

  "Tor, don't thank us. You're our best friend. We'd do anything for you."

  Closing my eyes, I nod.

  A small hand touches mine, and I open my eyes to see Kenzi standing next to the chair, a tiny mirror image of her parents, watching me with grave concern.

  Ember tries to pull her away. "Come on, Kenzi, it's time for bed. Uncle Tor needs some time alone."

  "No..." She climbs up onto my lap and hugs me. "He can't be alone, Mommy."

  Asher reaches for her but I stop him. "She can stay. I don't mind."

  Ember sighs. "Alright, but if she bugs you, just yell down the hall and I'll come get her."

 
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