by Carian Cole
No one stops.
My tears mix with the rain as I stand there helplessly, begging cars to slow down.
Finally, there's about two car lengths of space in the traffic and Tor runs towards me, kneeling down to the ground with the dog as soon as he's to the safety of the side of the road next to his truck. I fall to my knees with him and grab the leash from his hand, looping it over the dog's huge furry neck.
"You're insane," I scold with relief and frustration, wiping at the tears on my face.
"Hey, my insanity just saved this dog."
"Is your leg okay?" His jeans are ripped at the knee from skidding across the wet pavement and blood has started to seep into the edge of the fabric. "I was so scared something was going to happen to you," I say shakily, but he's ignoring his own injury, checking the dog instead, gently running his hands over the dogs trembling body and down it's legs.
"I'm fine, Angel."
As he checks over the dog, I notice blood on his hand and grab it, turning it over in my own. The flesh of his palm is all tore up with road rash from when he jumped for the dog.
"You're bleeding," my voice cracks as I choke back new tears and dab at his hand with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
His hand closes over mine, on top of the big furry dog's back, and his gaze drifts from our joined hands, up to my face. For the first time I don't recognize the deep, dark eyes staring back into mine, but I fall right into them willingly as our lips meet. My eyes flutter closed as I tumble further into him, but he quickly jerks away, and we simultaneously suck in a startled breath, staring at each other with wide-eyed shock.
Dropping my hand, he grabs the back of my neck, yanking my mouth back to his hungrily, and I clutch his arm to keep from falling backward onto my ass. His lips are warm and demanding, his tongue pushing past my teeth, coaxing my mouth open. My heartbeats turn into soaring butterflies. Nothing has ever felt like this. He steals my breath, making me dizzy as his mouth claims mine, his fingers tightening at the back of my neck. I tilt my head slightly to deepen the kiss, and a low, guttural growl sounds in his throat, turning my sweet butterflies into fireflies and sparking heat from my tummy to my thighs. He pulls away slightly, stares into my eyes with a lusty gaze, then comes back for more, his kiss much softer now, his hand moving from my neck to gently touch my damp cheek. My body and heart reel from his sudden shift from fierce demand in one moment, to soft and loving the next.
The scared dog moves between us, breaking the spell. Tor lets go, pulling away from me, his eyes darker, wilder, and avoiding mine.
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
He clears his throat and grabs the dog’s leash again before he stands.
"Let's get him in the back of the truck and to the emergency vet. I'm pretty sure his leg is broken." Fake normalcy courses through his words, trying to erase the last ten seconds, but the shaking of his hand as he holds the leash totally betrays his efforts.
Dazed, I quietly help him maneuver the large dog into the back seat, who's calmer now, tail wagging slightly as we talk softly to him and wipe him down with the old towel. He looks like a polar bear with his thick white fur and jet black eyes and nose.
We're both soaking wet as we climb into the front seat, and I'm still trembling from head to toe from the anxiety of watching Tor try to cross that busy highway coupled with what just happened between us.
Did that really happen?
That couldn't have happened. I must have blacked out or had a psychotic episode.
Nervously, I peek over at him, but his eyes are glued to the road as he pulls out onto the busy highway. I gulp some air and shove my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie.
"Tor...?" I whisper.
He shakes his head back and forth, fast, as if he's trying to deny hearing my voice, then takes a few deep breaths, like he's about to be sick or pass out.
"Check the dog," he says softly. "Please."
I climb over the front seat and settle myself in the back next to the dog, who immediately lays his head on my lap and whimpers when he tries to move his body closer to me. If not so wet and dirty, he would be a beautiful animal and I hope he's not hurt too badly inside. Even though he's scared and in pain, he's friendly, soaking up the attention I'm lavishing on him. He's most likely someone's lost family dog; he's way too pretty and sweet to be a stray. I pet him softly and tell him how brave he is and how he's going to be okay, and his tail thumps a few times while he licks my hand. When I look up, I catch Tor watching me in the rearview mirror. My heart immediately starts to beat faster in response, my lips tingling at the memory of his on mine. I'm disappointed when he quickly averts his eyes from mine and back to the road.
He kissed me.
Tor kissed me.
I keep chanting it over and over in my head, weighing the reality of it, as half of me believes it was a hallucination and the other half believes it was indeed, very real.
After we take the dog to the animal hospital and wait for him to be admitted, Tor drives me home. Wordlessly. It's clear he's uncomfortable, and I'm confused, unsure what to do or say. Shouldn't we talk about what happened?
What did happen?
"Tor...should we...talk, maybe?" I ask tentatively.
His body goes rigid, his jaw clenches, and several incredibly long moments drag on before he finally speaks.
"I'm sorry."
Sorry? Those words could mean anything, and everything - but I haven't a clue what he wants them to mean.
I start to speak, but he puts his hand up, stopping me. "Please, Kenzi. I can't."
The torturous tone of his voice shreds my insides, rendering me utterly speechless and even more confused. I've never seen him like this before. All I want to do is reach out to him, make him talk to me like we always do, but he's making it very clear that he can't. Or won't. He's put a wall up, and I don't know if I'm supposed to knock it down or let it stay there. Some walls need to be taken down, to get to a resolution. But other walls...those walls have to stay up to protect us.
I jump out of his truck without so much as a goodbye when he drops me off at home, I go straight up to my room, grateful that my father isn't home yet because I don't want to see or talk to anyone right now. I need to be alone with my feelings and try to calm my racing thoughts and shaking insides.
Everything's suddenly been turned upside down.
He kissed me.
A real kiss, with passion and desire.
He growled at me.
A feral, lusty sound that I can still hear. And I want more.
A lot more.
10
Tor
Kenzi ~ age thirteen
Toren ~ age twenty-eight
It's a beautiful, warm spring day as I ride my bicycle to his house. My basket is filled with milk, bread, some cans of soup, orange juice, and chocolate chip cookies because they're his favorite.
I frown with worry when I see his truck in the driveway because it's Wednesday afternoon and he should be at the shop working. Letting myself into his house with my key, I empty the shopping bag onto the counter and throw out the old food in his fridge before I put the new groceries in that I picked up for him.
"Uncle Tor?" I call down the hall. "I'm here. It's my cleaning day."
He doesn't answer, and a quick check out the door to his back yard, and his bedroom turns up empty, but his bathroom door is partly closed.
"Tor?" I hesitate before I push the door further open, and it hits his body that's sprawled out on the bathroom floor. My heart slams into my throat as I kneel down next to him on the tile. Relief washes over me when I see his chest moving up and down. He's not dead.
"Tor!" I shake him harder than I should and he mumbles and grumbles at me. The stench of alcohol coming off him is overpowering.
"You're drunk," I observe, disgusted. "Get off the floor. You're lying in your own puke."
I want to be sick myself seeing him this way, wasted on the floor. This is not the man I grew up adoring.
He grabs onto my leg. "You're such a good kid, Kenzi," he slurs.
"You're a mess."
He rolls over away from me. "I'll never be good enough."
Grabbing his arm, I try to tug him up, but he's way too heavy for me. "I don't know what you're babbling about, but you're getting off this floor and taking a shower. Now."
I manage to heave him up into a sitting position and he slumps against the wall, trying to focus on me. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair a mess, and he's gone at least a week without shaving.
"You're the only one who really loves me, Angel," he says sadly.
Turning the shower head on, I pull the curtain closed so the floor doesn't get drenched.
"That's not true at all. Get your ass in that shower and then into bed so I can clean this mess you made. If I catch you like this again, I'm telling my father. We're not going to let you do this to yourself."
Tor
She hauled ass out of my truck like a cyclone and slammed the door so hard behind her I'm surprised the airbag didn't blow.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I fucked up huge.
I've fucked up a lot in my life. And that, my friends, was the biggest fuckup ever.
I've been sitting on my couch for over an hour, in complete darkness and silence, volleying between wanting to get drunk off my ass on some hardcore liquor, calling up Sydni or Lisa and fucking the shit out of them to make myself forget what I just did, or puking my guts out. But what I really want to do is call her and hear her voice. Or better yet, see her again. After what happened, I have an intense need to know if I've affected her. Will her voice sound shaky and nervous or will it have that new wistfulness I've caught glimpses of in the past few weeks? Is she hiding in her room like I am, ashamed and confused? Or is she laying on her bed wearing one of my many shirts, with rainbow fuzzy socks on her feet, a faint smile on her lips, thinking about me? Possibly wanting me?
Fuck me. I want to kiss her again.
Kenzi.
My niece-by-association. My best friend’s daughter. My little partner in crime for the past seventeen years.
I kissed her like a fucking deranged animal and she let me. In fact, it felt an awful lot like she enjoyed it.
She welcomed it.
I lean my head into my hands and push my fingers into my skull.
No, asshole. She didn't want it. She couldn't want it. You scared the shit out of her. She's just a kid.
It was an accident, conjured up from the emotions of the situation. She was scared after watching me running through traffic and I was high on adrenaline and it all created some wacked out reaction between us. That's all it was.
Nothing else.
Nothing. Else.
Standing, I pace the dark room like a caged bear. What if she tells Asher? He'll fucking kill me. And if he does? I deserve it. I'll let him kill me. I won't even fight back.
She won't tell him, though. She would talk to me first. Which she tried to do, and I wouldn't let her. I couldn't. Because I'm a douche, just like Sydni and Lisa told me I was. I don't communicate. And here's a big fucking reminder of how true that is staring me right in the face.
There's a bottle of whiskey hidden in my closet in case of emergencies and major fuckups like this. My skin is crawling with the intense need to drink the entire thing and pass out cold to forget what I did.
Instead, I yank my phone out of my back pocket and hover my finger over the keyboard. I can't avoid her like I've done to others in the past. If I'm this fucked in the head right now, what the hell is she feeling? I probably scared her to death, and I can't let her feel that way.
I type out a quick, nervous text:
Me: Angel...you okay?
Five agonizing minutes pass while I sit on my bedroom floor and stare at my closet door.
Kenzi: Yes. Are you? I hope you washed that road rash on your hand and leg so you don't get infected.
God. Why does she always try to take care of me?
Me: I will.
Kenzi: Have you heard any news on the big fluffy dog?
Me: Not yet.
Kenzi: I like him a lot. He just wanted love, even though he was hurt and lost. He reminds me of you.
My chest contracts.
Me: Ya think?
Kenzi: Yup.
Me: I'm sorry I scared you.
Kenzi: You never scare me, Tor.
Shit. Wrong answer, little girl. Wrong.Fucking.Answer.
Kenzi: Maybe you're scared.
I want to throw my phone against the wall. I don't know what to say to that. I'm afraid to say anything because I don't trust anything about myself right now. This kid has always had a microscope right into my soul and it's driving me mad.
Am I scared?
Yes. I'm petrified of what she's made me feel.
Kenzi: Everything is okay, Tor.
My fingers are shaking as I type back on the tiny keyboard.
Me: Is it?
Kenzi: Yes. It is.
Her words convey comfort and confidence - not fear as I expected.
I don't reply and a few minutes later, a text message comes through with a picture of a penny, and she's typed the words I wish you wouldn't worry across it. The last thing I feel like doing is smiling, but I do, because that's what she does to me.
Me: Thanks, Angel.
Kenzi: No drinking. Promise me?
I shake my head at the phone. She knows me too well. Better than she really should.
Me: I promise.
Kenzi: Good.
I breathe a deep sigh of relief as I toss my phone off to the side. We've silently agreed to pretend the kiss never happened.
Bullshit.
For the past two weeks I've been laying low, working on my bike, landscaping my yard, and training this goofy white dog who almost got me killed and then led to me kissing someone my lips had no right to be on. When my mom told me no one ever came to claim the dog, I went over and adopted him and he stuck his head out the truck window on the way home with the wind in his face as we drove right past the place I saved him. I couldn't let a beautiful dog like this sit in a concrete kennel recuperating with a broken leg, right? At least that's what I told Mom.
We know the real reason, though. Because Kenzi fell in love with him in the back seat that day and now he has sentimental value. He witnessed our first kiss.
First and last kiss, I remind myself. First and last.
I haven't talked to her since that day due to her having her wisdom teeth pulled out and then she came down with the worst friggin' cold ever. At least that's what her text message told me. I did go to her graduation and stood with her family like I always have, watching her take steps into adulthood. She didn't say one word to me at the ceremony. In fact, she barely looked at me. I declined the invitation of going back to Asher's house for a small party afterwards. I felt too guilty being near her and all her loved ones, afraid someone would notice a difference between us, or that I'd have a meltdown and admit what I did to all of them while we stood around eating cake.
Is she avoiding me? The possibility has crossed my mind several thousand times, and it hurts me in a way I can't describe, but it's the way it should be. I kissed a fucking seventeen-year-old girl. Seventeen. That little fact turns my stomach every time I think of it. She thinks of me as her uncle. I'm closer to her than her own uncles are. I've never once been even remotely attracted to anyone under twenty-one before, unless I was that age myself. But something about Kenzi is different. She doesn't act or look her age at all. I've come to think of her as more of a friend than anything else over the past few years, and I have no idea how that even happened. Up until now, I never thought about our relationship as unhealthy or wrong. Now I'm second guessing everything.
I've texted her pictures of the newly-groomed and incredibly white fluffy dog, whom I've named Diogee. She texted back that as soon as she feels better she's coming right over to play with him and vacuum up all the white fur that's accumulating in places of my house that I never thought dog fur could end up.
I have mixed feelings about seeing her again, and I try to convince myself it will be a good way to prove to myself that what happened was just a one-time mistake that will never happen again. But mixed in with that is hidden excitement and longing. I want to see her smile at me with those lips that tasted so delicious. Even if I can never taste them again.
I feel guilty as I'm walking into Asher's house on this sunny Sunday morning. Today we've got a ride planned and we always meet up at his house. But now that I'm here, I feel like I have a big red mark on my face in the shape of his daughter’s lips.
"Hey, man, it's a perfect day for a ride," he says when I walk into the kitchen. "You want some coffee before we head out?"
"Nah, I'm trying to quit. It makes me jittery."
He pulls two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and tosses one at me. "Let's ride up to Cathedral Ledge. I got a new camera and I want to take some pictures."
"Dude, every year you buy a new camera."
"I know. I think I have some bizarre camera fetish. Do you want one of my old ones? I've got about five I think."
"Thanks, but I'm good. If I want a picture of something I'll just use my cell phone. I can't deal with all those buttons and settings," I wander across the kitchen to look out the window while I wait for him to put his boots on, and that's when I see Kenzi, Chloe and Rayne sitting out by the pool, laughing like girls do. I have to force myself not to stare at Kenzi in cut off faded denim shorts, bright apple red bikini top, sunglasses on top of her head pushing her hair off her face, and black motorcycle boots on her feet. It's the little black leather boots that get to me the most and make my body twitch in ways it definitely shouldn't be. Fuck. I can't escape this shit.
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