by Carian Cole
But not like this. Not with her.
As I pack up my small pup tent and sleeping bag and secure them onto the back of my bike, I know I'm heading back home with absolutely zero resolution to my Kenzi dilemma. Thankfully she's in Maine now and I won't see her for at least two months. Quitting each other cold turkey should break whatever this new wacked out connection that’s between us is for good so things can go back to normal.
I hope.
After riding for about two hundred miles, I pull over to the side of the winding mountain road to drink some water and stretch my back out, which is starting to ache from all the hours on the bike and sleeping on the ground for two days. I can't wait to get home, take a hot shower and a muscle relaxer, and sleep in my own bed.
I'm just about to get back on my bike when I see something moving out of the corner of my eye in the tall weeds on the side of the road. Removing my sunglasses, I walk over and see that it's a taped up cardboard box. And it's moving.
Something's inside it. Scratching. Trying to get out.
Oh, fuck.
I glance up and down the road where I'm standing, and there's absolutely nothing out here. No houses or stores. It's just a road going up the mountain with nothing but woods on both sides for miles.
Kneeling down, I pull my knife out of my belt clip and carefully slice along the tape, not sure what the hell I'm going to find in this box, bracing myself for the worst.
A tiny paw shoves through the small space I've cut open, and I quickly cut the rest of the tape as a small gray furry head pokes out. At first I think it's a squirrel, but it's a goddamn kitten.
"Shit," I swear under my breath, gently taking the tiny ball of fur out of the box and cradling it in my hand. It looks to be about six weeks old and is all blue gray with a tiny white spot on its chest. As I stare at it, it begins to mew in my face at the top of its little lungs.
"Shh...I got ya little one," I say softly, gently rubbing its head. It purrs loudly in response, rubbing its fuzzy head into my palm. I check its body over for any injuries, but it seems fine from what I can see. Other than being taped into a box and thrown onto the side of a desolate road like garbage to die a horrible death. I check the box again, but there's nothing inside and no markings on the outside. Some asshole just taped a kitten into an empty box and left it to die.
Days like this, I hate the fucking world. I could easily choke the shit out of the person that did this, leave their ass on the side of the road, and feel no remorse whatsoever. In fact, I'd probably enjoy it.
I snap a few pictures of the box and the surrounding area before I carry the kitten back to my bike and pour a tiny bit of water from my thermos into my palm, which the kitten laps up quickly.
"Dude, you have no idea how lucky you are," I say to it, rubbing its itty bitty ears that are like tiny velvet triangles. "What are the odds someone like me would find you out here in the middle of friggin' nowhere?"
My mom has said a hundred times, sometimes God puts the right people in the right place for a reason. I'm not a religious person, but right now, I'm thinking she's right.
Unfortunately, my options for getting this kitten home safely are limited. My cell has no reception, so I can't even call one of my brothers to come meet me in a car. I sure as hell can't zip it up into one of my saddle bags because I'm pretty sure the roar of my pipes so close will give it a heart attack. I can't stick it back in that box and try to hold it for another two hundred miles.
"Fuck it. You better be cool, kitten," I say, as I tuck it against my chest and zip my leather jacket up. "Don't go all Freddy Krueger on me and get us killed, deal?"
I kiss the top of its head before I zip my jacket up a few more inches. This is probably not the best plan I've ever had but I have no idea how else I can get this poor thing home. Hopefully it won't scratch the shit out of me.
I start up the bike and get back on the road slowly, letting the fur ball cuddled up against my chest adjust to the noise and movement and hoping it doesn't freak the hell out. After a few seconds, I can feel it purring up against me, vibrating against my heart. So far, so good.
We head for home, stopping once at a gas station so I can fill up my tank. I slowly unzip my jacket a few inches to check the kitten, and it pokes its head out and rubs against the stubble on my chin, still purring.
"You think you're a biker cat now? Don't get any ideas. This is a one-time ride, kitten." I can't believe it's not scared out of its skull after enduring the rumble of my engine, but it seems pretty content just hanging out inside my jacket, which I guess is better than being taped up in a box. I tuck him back in and hop back on my bike to get this last stretch of miles over with.
As I cruise down the road, I wish Kenzi was with me. She would love this kitten. I can almost see her face if she had been with me when I found it. She would have cried and ground her teeth in anger, and she'd probably have it named by now and would be begging me to talk Asher into letting her keep it.
I'm not a cat person, but maybe Diogee would like someone to hang out with while I'm at the shop all day. Looks like biker box kitten is coming home with me to stay.
"Holy shit, you're turning into Dr. Doolittle," Tesla says when I pull the kitten out of my jacket and tell her how I found it in a box.
"Well, I couldn't just leave him there." I hand the kitten over to my sister so I can take all my gear off. "Call Mom and ask her if she can come over and check it out for me and bring me whatever I need. I've never had a cat before."
"You're keeping it?" she asks in surprise.
"Why not? I thought the dog would like the company." Sitting on the couch, I take off my jacket, belt, and my boots. My entire body is aching.
Tessie lays the kitten on the couch between us as she calls our mom, and Diogee sniffs the newcomer with interest, gently nudging it with his nose, and the kitten rubs against his face.
"Nice..." I say, petting Diogee's head. His tail wags as the kitten continues to rub on his nose and rolls over on his back, purring. I think they're going to be fine together.
"You sure you want a kitten, Toren? This is just a baby," Tesla says when she gets off the phone. "And this dog is clingy, too. They're both going to want a lot of attention from you."
I lay the kitten on my chest and stare into its amber eyes. "Good. I need some distractions in my life."
"Why? What's going on? Is that bitch screwing with your head again?"
Tesla isn't a fan of Sydni and has never even attempted to hide her feelings about it. Today is no exception.
"Nah, she and I are done. I just have a lot on my mind lately."
"Good. You should have kicked her to the curb years ago." She disappears down the hall and comes back with her overnight bag. "Mom said she'll be here in about an hour. I should get going. The dog was good while you were gone. I wouldn't mind watching him again for you if you need me. I went grocery shopping for you, too. You can't just live on protein powder and fruit, Toren. You have to eat real food."
"Thanks, Tess. I appreciate you coming over here at the last minute. And I do eat, I just ran out of food."
"Anytime," she says, then frowns at me with concern "Are you okay? You seem off."
I pet the kitten with one hand and the dog with the other. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"If you want to talk, you're always welcome to stop by. I feel like I never see you. Tanner, Taran and Tris come over all the time, and you've never even been to my new apartment. You're turning into a recluse like Ty."
My gaze switches up to my sister. Her natural hair color is blonde, but today it's dark auburn and has grown out a few inches past her shoulders. She's changed and matured a lot in the past year, moving out of mom's house to get her own place after landing a job as a hair and makeup artist. And she's right, I don't see her nearly enough because I all do lately is work, do what I have to for Devils’ Wolves, and then go home. Other than the bonfires and the occasional rides with Asher, I don't really socialize.
"You're right
. We'll hang out soon."
"Good luck with this zoo you're acquiring," she teases, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Call me or stop by. I mean it."
"I will."
My mom shows up about an hour later armed with kitten food, a cat bed, litter box, dishes, some toys, and gives me a course in Kittens 101.
"You're filling a void," she observes as she eyes me on the couch, with the kitten on my chest and the dog laying with its head in my lap.
"What are you talking about, Ma? I'm tired. Sleep is the only void I want to fill right now."
"Taking off for a weekend to the middle of nowhere? Keeping the pets you've rescued? You've been doing this for years, Honey, and you've never wanted to bring any home," she says. "Now look at you."
I shrug. "So what? I like these two. They're different."
"You're lonely, Toren."
Scoffing, I lean back against the couch and close my eyes. "I'm tired is what I am, Ma. Nothing else."
"That's probably true, since all you do is work. Latching onto these animals is your heart’s way of telling you that you want to love and be loved back. You're trying to put together a little family."
Opening my eyes, I look at her like she's nuts as she's standing over me near the couch, analyzing me like moms do. "You been smokin' Tanner's weed, Ma?"
She shoots me a scolding glare. "Do you know how many people come into the shelter every day adopting an animal because they're grieving? Or depressed? Or lonely? Trust me, I know what it looks like."
I wonder if she's right. I've rescued hundreds of animals since I started helping her when I was twelve years old, and these are the first two I've ever wanted to keep.
"So maybe I'll grow into a crazy old single cat man," I joke.
"I guess there are worse things that could happen. Why don't you and Lisa come over for dinner one night this week? I'd love to get to know her better. She seems lovely."
"Lovely?"
"Yes. Nice. Polite."
"Eh..." I curl my lip. Lisa's just not doing it for me, no matter how lovely she might be.
"Then come by yourself if you want. You can hang my new ceiling fan while you're there. Bring Diogee, you need to socialize him or you're both going to be weird around people. You need to get out more."
I think I'm already weird around people. Just a few weeks ago I told a woman my dick was on a vacation. In fact, I think I may have surpassed weird a while ago. I'm not going to admit that to my mother, though.
Letting out a sigh, I agree to stop by, but mostly because I want her to have the new ceiling fan, not because I want to practice social skills with my dog.
"We have a new volunteer at the shelter, her name is Dani. I could invite her over, too. She's pretty, and she has two cats, a dog, and a ferret. I think you'd like her."
"Ma. No. I don't want to be set up with anyone. Especially with someone who owns a ferret. That's an instant fuck no."
"Why? What do you have against ferrets?" She walks around the living room picking up the dog toys and puts them all in a pile by his bed. I know as soon as she's gone he's going to spread them all over the house again.
"They're evil. They're little fuzzy lunatic ninjas."
She sighs in utter frustration. "Alright, then. I tried. Call me if you need any help with the kitten. And you should bring it over to the vets as soon as you can for a real checkup. Maybe have Kenzi bring him over for you. She's been helping at the shelter a lot the past few weeks and she's really good with the animals."
A burn spreads in my chest at the mention of her name. "She's gone to Maine for the summer. I'll take the kitten myself."
"Oh," she says in surprise. "She didn't even say goodbye. I hope when she gets back home she'll still volunteer. I love having her there. She has some really good ideas."
"I'm sure she will, Ma. She told me she wants to. She left sorta at the last minute. She was excited about driving her new car and going on a road trip." Lies and excuses. The first of many.
My mood shifts from bad to worse once my mom is gone. Kenzi didn't say goodbye to me, either. She just left without so much as a text or a phone call, which is unlike her. She always says goodbye. If Asher hadn't mentioned to me that she left before I went on my excursion in the woods, I wouldn't have known she had left.
I can't stop thinking about that afternoon when I told her to leave. I don't know how many times in the past seventeen years I've watched her bottom lip quiver with emotion while tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. This time was different though, because I've never been the one to cause her tears. I've always been the one to wipe them away and make it all better. I've always been the hero to that adorable little blonde-haired girl who has morphed into a sensual woman in the blink of an eye, and now I don't know what to do with her.
It took every ounce of self-control I had to resist taking her in my arms and kissing her tears away, telling I didn't mean what I said and everything will be okay. As always, I ached to make everything better for her. But I couldn't. That's what Uncle Tor would do, and unfortunately he went up in flames the moment we touched. That guy is gone, and she can't ever have him back. Just like I can't ever have my little blonde-haired princess back.
One forbidden touch, one taboo kiss, and we destroyed who we were. I don't know who either one of us is anymore or how we got all fucking tangled up in this mess of lust and love that should never exist. But it does exist, and no matter how much I try to deny it, it keeps coming back to get in my face, refusing to be ignored.
And now she's gone, just like I asked.
I want her back. So fucking bad.
14
Kenzi
Kenzi ~ age seventeen
Asher ~ age thirty-two
As soon as I wake up, I can feel something is wrong. There's a darkness in the air - something foreboding that makes a chill run down my spine as I climb out of bed- even though the house is not cold. I find him sitting on the couch in the living room. The television is off. There's no music playing. And that's very unlike him, because sound is his passion. He's staring at the floor and doesn't even seem to notice that I've walked into the room.
"Dad?" I say tentatively, afraid to jolt him out of the trance he appears to be in.
His head raises unnaturally slow, and he starts to tremble. This is it, I think to myself. Mom is really gone. She's no longer lingering between life and death, holding us as emotional hostages in her limbo. It's over.
I run across the hardwood floors and kneel down in front of him. And that's when I notice the blood. On his hands, and on his shirt. It's smeared, and not wet, but sticky. It has to be recent.
"Oh my God. Daddy...are you hurt?"
"It's not mine," he whispers.
"What happened? Whose blood is this?"
"Katie's dead."
I feel like the life just got sucked out of me as my mind tries to process what he just said, hoping I must have heard him wrong. Katie is my five-year-old cousin. Five-year-olds don't die. Especially ones that are so happy and healthy, like Katie.
"What? No..." I shake my head as tears start to track down my face.
"Lukas and I had to identify the body. Vandal had a car accident, and she was in the back seat. It's his blood."
"Uncle Vandal? Is he-?"
He shakes his head. "He's okay. Hurt...but okay."
Gulping, I tug at his blood-stained shirt. I can't be near it, and he shouldn't be either. "Let's take this off, Dad," I say softly, and he lets me pull his shirt over his head. I take the soft throw blanket off the top of the couch and gently wrap it around him. He's still shaking uncontrollably and I'm afraid he's in shock.
"I can't get it out of my head. She was so little...it was awful. I feel sick." He chokes on his tears and presses his palms against his eyes. "I can't stop seeing her little broken body."
I put my arms around him and hug him close to me, fighting the waves of devastation that are rippling through my own body.
"I'
m so sorry, Daddy."
I don't know what else to say, or how to comfort him. He needs his wife, not me. I have never experienced death before this, and I'm torn between falling apart myself and needing to be strong for my father. All I can offer is words I've read in books or heard in movies. "Let's try to remember her before. How cute she was. Don't think about tonight. That's not her anymore."
Maybe I should call my Grandmother, or Storm, my other uncle, who's very close to my dad. They must be going through the exact same feelings of grief and disbelief right now, though, and probably won't be able to console him any more than I can.
My father clings to me, hugging me so tight I can barely breathe. "I'd die if something happened to you. I can't ever lose you, too."
I stroke the back of his head. "Nothing is ever going to happen to me, Dad. I promise."
Kenzi
It wasn't easy convincing my father I could make the two-and-a-half hour drive to Maine safely by myself without crashing, getting lost, getting kidnapped, picking up a hitchhiker, or getting several speeding tickets, but after much debate, I finally convinced him to let me go. He didn't understand my sudden decision to leave as soon as possible and stood in my room with a worried look on his face watching me pack a suitcase like a demented squirrel with way too many nuts.
"I don't understand why you're leaving in such a rush. Did something happen? Did Katherine say something?" he asks. There's been a slight rift between my father and my aunt Katherine since my mom's accident. She wanted me to come live with her permanently, stating that I needed to be raised by a mature woman now and not by a bunch of rock stars. My father won that battle, agreeing to let me spend the summers with Katherine. But honestly, I don't think my aunt has ever really trusted that her only sister's child was being raised right. I've never met my mother's parents since they basically disowned her when she got pregnant with me, so Katherine is the only relative of my mother’s that I have any contact with. Every time I visit, she begs me to stay permanently. I always leave, though, because I miss my dad, my family, and Chloe. And Tor.