A New Life Series - Finisher Set

by Samantha Jacobey

  She squatted next to a half-stripped machine, and he peered over her shoulder so he could observe her while she worked. She knew his questions were coming. Sorry bastard. Go the fuck home, already.

  He started by inquiring about the bike itself. “So, what kind of bike is this?”

  “’86 Honda.” She bit the words sharply.

  “Oh yeah?” his voice lifted in pitch slightly, “Well, how fast does it go?”

  “Fast.” The lines dug into her face as she frowned.

  He continued for several minutes. Tori ignored questions that required more than two-word answers, fuming as her fingers moved.

  Eventually, he stopped talking and simply stared at her. “Why’re you so angry at me?” he finally asked in a calm voice.

  Holding her wrench suspended in frozen motion, Tori dropped her shoulders in disgust. She honestly didn’t know the answer to that question. Turning her head to look at him, arms still hanging in front of her, she considered what to say carefully.

  “Don’t feel special,” she finally muttered, “I’m angry at everyone.”

  Her reply made him smile and he bobbed his head in agreement. “I get that. You had a hard life. And you always were stubborn.”

  His assessment shocked her, reminding her how Eddie had said the same thing. Dropping her eyes, she lowered her tool and placed it on the grease stained cloth, next to the rest of the utensils she needed at the moment.

  “I don’t remember much about it,” her tone quiet, she kept her focus on the bike. “I remember our parents, I think, but only a small thing. And I remember you. I was following you, and you were shouting at me to go away, saying that I was annoying.” Her voice cracked a little, as if the memory caused her pain.

  “Yeah,” he breathed his reply, “I was a real jerk. You used to love to follow me around and asked so many questions.” She turned her face to peer at him again, and he smiled. “I really am glad to get a second chance. I know you want me to leave, but,” he shrugged, “I can’t do that yet.”

  Tori only nodded, standing and moving over to the long bench of tools to straighten it, not that it needed straightening. She had promised herself she would stay away from him; that she didn’t need to know about those days that were gone forever. He’s family in name only, and Michael’s all that I need, she reminded herself sternly.

  Moving to position himself beside her once more, Brian pushed the issue. “What would it hurt for us to be friends?” he asked with a hushed air.

  Tori busied her hands with the tools.

  “You know,” he watched her movements, “I’m pretty sure that’s about as good as they’re gonna look.”

  She stopped and laid her palms flat on the table, cutting her eyes over at him. “What good would it be?” she put the question to him in a frosty manner. “I can never get that time back, Danny. I can never be young again. Won’t ever have a family of my own. What good does it do to act like this is a second chance?”

  He backed away from her, a large grin spreading across his face.

  Tori’s expression changed to bewilderment. “What the hell are you smiling at?”

  He squinted slightly, nodding his head, “You just called me Danny. You do remember me.”

  Flicking her gaze to the wall in front of her, she started to deny it, but something in his voice caused her to remain silent, so he continued. “Don’t you think our parents would want us to be close? I mean, as many times as they told me to stop hiding from you or stop picking on you; I sure think they would. If not close, at least friends.” Shuffling his hands nervously, he took another step back. “I’ll let you think about that for a bit, Nikki.” He still smiled as he went out through the wide door and headed to the café.

  Touching the tools again absently, Tori allowed herself to go over the conversation in her mind. I called him Danny. For some reason, that was his name now, and she couldn’t explain it. She only had the few memories of their parents and had not bothered to tell him they were from the day they died, specifically of the crash and the burning car.

  She had dreamt the scene again several times since discovering her identity, and her parents were screaming and talking before the fire; Tori felt pretty certain they were shot before the blaze had been set. It saddened her to think about it, and she could not bring herself to share that pain with him.

  Inhaling deeply, she realized that was the real reason she wanted to keep him away. I don’t want to share my misery with him. For one, I’m still not certain that he really cares.

  Having met him as a stranger, she didn’t see him as that kind of person, and her new-found memories had done little to alter that opinion. Two, having heard about my life from Michael, or whoever, isn’t the same as me telling him about all the things that happened to me.

  The time had come for Tori to face the facts and admit to herself that she was ashamed of her life. Mortified by the things that she could not stop and of the things she did that brought pain to other people. I’m a murdering whore, after all, no matter how you slice it.

  Michael understood those things because of his own experiences and because he had seen her life firsthand. My brother will never understand. No one really will. Hell, I lived it and I’m not even sure I understand it, she confessed to herself.

  Allowing a weary sigh to escape her, Tori knew what she had to do. Finding out about the past would be an essential part of healing, and she did want to heal. Learning to face her fears would be a part of that, and it felt like a razor sharp blade that cut her into two halves; the half that feared being judged, and the half that wanted to be judged.

  Turning to the roll up door, she grabbed the rope and pulled it closed, not bothering to lock it. Walking towards the diner, she practiced what she wanted to say. Her heart pounding, she recalled the day she had to ask Eddie about washing her clothes and had gotten her first lesson on motorcycles, which was a disaster.

  Entering the tiny eatery, she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Brian sat on a stool at the counter, laughing and talking with Trish and her boys. It had been a long time since Tori had talked to the pair of young men, and she wondered if they were avoiding her since her return.

  Seeing her come in, Christopher’s smile tightened, and he made an excuse to leave, pulling his brother with him. Curious what they had been told that made them afraid to talk to her, she could only speculate at the moment. That’ll have to be dealt with some other time, she acknowledged with another cleansing sigh.

  Steadying herself by clenching her fists, she took the vacated seat next to Brian and ordered a glass of water. Playing it cool, he waited for her to make the first move. Trish gave her a tiny grin, unusually quiet as she placed the frosty container on the counter and opting to clean tables directly so the two could have some privacy.

  “Well,” she chose a seemingly harmless theme, “I see you and the boys are getting along nicely. They used to come to the house every day, back before I had to go away. Now they don’t have anything to say to me.”

  Giving her a sideways look, “Is that really what you came down here to talk about?”

  Tori allowed him a small smile, “Of course not, but it’s a much safer topic.”

  He returned the grin, knowing exactly what she meant. He had learned how to stick to the safe subjects over the years, hardly ever telling people what really went on inside him.

  Avoiding looking at him, she tried again, “So, how does this friend thing work exactly? You know, I haven’t had much experience in that department, and people who’re close to me tend to end up dead.” F-F-Fuck. That didn’t come out the way she planned. Too late now, damn it. She swung her gaze towards him, waiting nervously for his reply.

  Brian studied her delicate features, not really sure how to respond to that. After a tangible silence, he decided to go with brutal honesty. “You know, I just don’t get you sometimes. I guess that’s what the friend thing is all about. I just want to get to know you, and maybe understand you a little better
. And not from second-hand stories, either. I want to hear about you from you. Whatever you’re willing to share.”

  Tori only stared, nodding slightly. Remembering that he spoke French, she changed languages, causing a confused expression to flutter across his face. “I’m crazy,” she told him matter-of-factly. “At least, I’m pretty sure that I am.”

  Translating what she had said, he burst out laughing, raising his glass in a toast to her, “Well that makes two of us. I’m glad that gives us some common ground.” His usage not as smooth, it had obviously been a long time since he really practiced it.

  She emitted a small laugh with him, the sound strange to her. She had learned to smile again, but actual laughter was still pretty rare. “I sometimes feel like I’m borrowing other people’s emotions,” she confessed, sticking with the French. “I spent a long time pretending like I didn’t have any, as if I was invincible or something. No happy, no sad. Just, nothing.”

  Brian wasn’t sure where she was going with the comment, but it was a start. That’s the thing about searching for yesterday, you never know what you’re gonna find. “It’s a self-preservation thing I think, like protecting yourself. I get it.” He nodded in an exaggerated fashion, and she believed he did.

  Gulping down her water, she suggested they return to the shop and she would show him some things about the bike she had been working on, “Since you seem so interested.”

  Holding up his hand, he made a stipulation, “Only if you let me show you something in return. How about music?”

  “Is that a jab at my ability to play?” her nose scrunched, shocked he would say such a thing to her, especially when they were learning to get along.

  Shaking his head, he grinned deviously, “No, silly; you don’t read or write music. I would love to teach you, so you can put all those songs you wrote down on paper properly.”

  Tori’s face went stone cold. He’s been snooping in my stuff.

  As if he had read her thoughts, he shook his head, “Wow, I am totally fucked, either way I go here. I guess I’ll take the blame on that one.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she demanded curtly.

  Looking away, he tried to be nonchalant, “Michael was really proud of your work. He showed me your spiral full of songs. The lyrics were really good, but reading the music was a lot harder. I could help you with that if you let me.”

  He paused for a moment, giving her time to grasp his compliment, then continued, “I never told you that song you wrote was fantastic. Didn’t have a chance, I guess. But yeah, it was pretty incredible. If you had been able to win, you would have.”

  Tori felt herself smile, not sure if she believed him, but the fact that he actually said it meant a lot. Leaning on the counter, she considered his offer. She knew she would accept it, what have I got to lose? She could see her life expanding before her, years and years of it. She had never really thought too far ahead, never dared to dream about the future. Staring into the crystal blue eyes of her closest kin, she had to admit, maybe, it’s time that I started.

  Real Family

  The sun moving over into early evening, Michael returned from Marge’s house to find the pair working on the bike. He had entered through the office and could hear them in the large shop area, speaking to each other in both French and English for some weird reason. Pausing to listen closer, he could make out that she was teaching him about the tools and the motorcycle at the same time.

  The two of them speaking civilly to one another in any language sounded like music to his ears. He had been deeply concerned that they would never see eye to eye, or that she would never give her brother a chance. Now it looked as if they had made it to a fresh start.

  Moving closer, so he could see them through the doorway, he smiled at the backs of their heads. Tori knelt in front of the bench and Brian leaned over, watching her go over the machine’s parts in a quiet tone. Clearing his throat, he asked if anyone were hungry, getting a loud affirmative from both parties.

  Laying the tools down, they made their way over to the large sink in the back corner to clean the grease off their hands before going into the house. Tori locked the garage for the night, and smiled at the smell of the delicious food when she opened the front door to their tiny cottage.

  Brian put the plates on the table and the three of them sat to enjoy a peaceful meal together for the first time since she had returned home. He felt so ecstatic at her newfound acceptance of him, he could not seem to stop talking, and chattered on about his past motorcycle experience, which wasn’t much.

  Michael joined in the conversation, and the three of them vocalized about different types of bikes, makes and models, and which one would be good for Brian, should he choose to learn to ride. He seemed a little leery on the subject, “I hate to admit it, but I don’t have much in the way of coordination. I guess I’m afraid I’ll crash or something. I mean, I grew up on a farm and I don’t even like to ride horses!”

  Tori took the opportunity to laugh at him, reassuring him that he had nothing to fear. “I could teach you, ya know,” she made the offer, genuinely hoping he would accept. It felt strange to her, having him in her life. They had agreed for him to stay for a month, but she wondered how it would work out, as she didn’t have a strong track record for keeping deadlines.

  The possibility he would stay in the small town and never return to his fame and fortune flittered through her mind. Considering this for a moment, she knew there would only be a slim chance if any of that happening. I’m sure he’ll eventually know what he’s here to learn and be ready to reclaim his place in the band.

  Another idea crossed her mind, and it saddened her a little. He might want me to go home with him. Looking across the table at her husband, she became fully aware that this truly was the life she wanted to lead, no more, no less. If Brian wants to know me, it’ll be here. This small town is my home, and I have no desire to taste the life of glamour he has learned to languish in.

  Smiling at their conversation, Tori pushed the thoughts from her mind. She had learned to live in the moment, to cherish the time she had with people, and this would be her first taste of what real family is all about. She didn’t want to waste a single minute of it worrying about the past… or the future.

  Sending her brother to bed early, she informed him she would be up at 5:00 am if he cared to join her run.

  Brian gave her an odd look, not able to recall the last time he had awoken at such an ungodly hour. It would be more likely he would have still been up at 5:00 am back home, partying or getting laid. Trying to be polite, he chose not to share his evaluation of her idea, only nodding and saying he would consider it when he got up the next morning.

  Tori smiled, surmising he would pass when the time came, as she felt pretty sure he was a ‘you only live once’ kind of guy under normal circumstance. Taking her husband into their chamber, she could feel her heart rate quicken, her breathing becoming erratic with the thought of what lay in store.

  She and Michael made love every time their heads hit the pillow. Understanding her heavy desire for sex, he did his best to keep up with her. He never attempted to get nasty with her, and she would sometimes imagine making the move for herself, taking him into the realm of dirty fucking he had once told her matter-of-factly that he was not into.

  Dismissing the idea, she felt compelled to keep things as they were, a firm division between the man she loved and would spend her life with, and the darkness of her life that her time with Enrique had represented. She thought about him occasionally, and his number remained in her wallet. I know if I ever need him, I can reach him, but for now, this is where I belong.

  She made slow progress at undressing her lover, her hands working their magic as they removed his clothing to find the flesh below. She loved to kiss and caress his finely toned muscles, and the feel of his fingers gliding across hers brought her desire screaming to the surface.

  Dropping her shirt onto the growing pile of garments, Michael could
feel the fire building within him. Removing her jeans, he pushed her back and buried his face in the trimmed hairs that covered her soft folds, locating her pleasure center and working it freely with his tongue and teeth. He loved the way she panted when he did this, driving him to the edge.

  He finished her expertly, and she lay trembling on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off the side as he knelt between them, running his hands up and down her silky smooth limbs. Squeezing the muscles as they twitched, he became overcome with a singular idea.

  Standing, he rolled her over onto her knees, so that she knelt on the edge of the bed, her body in the perfect position as he stood behind her. Pushing himself inside her soft folds, he grasped her hips and began to slam his body against her in hard quick thrusts. She gasped in surprise by his choice of position, it being something the two of them had never shared.

  Looking down, he could see her round, crinkled orifice, allowing his thumb to slide lightly across it, causing it to pulse as he teased the delicate skin. Grasping her hip again, he slapped against her, not shifting to the new location, but allowing her to consider that he might. You know she wants you to, the thought tore at him as he pushed his body against hers.

  He took her hard and fast until he became exhausted and he finished himself loudly, obviously enjoying the change in their routine. Stretching across the bed together, they lay sprawled over it, panting. Her back still to him, he used his fingers to feel her swollen cleft that dripped with her juices mixed with his own.

  Transferring the thick ooze with a sliding motion, he used his right hand to wet the rounded fold of her and allowed his fingers to toy with her, the muscles pulsing as his thumb slipped inside. She made small noises as he teased her, reaching back to catch his palm with her trembling digits. She held him stopped in place, but did not push him away, and he wondered if she really wanted him to take her that way.