Torque

by Skye Callahan

  Katrin. All the years I’d spent trying to purge that name from my brain. More than the name, the memories and images it brought to mind.

  Damn Wilson. Everywhere I went I had someone to push my buttons.

  I had a mile to walk to clear my head, but every step just sent my thoughts spinning faster.

  Devlin had used a girl to get me before. What if instead of stepping into my trap, I’d fallen into his, or given him the very opportunity to set one up. With Aubrey’s family in the mix, maybe I was wrong in thinking I had any control over the situation.

  Or….

  Wilson was just having his own fun by stoking the paranoia. There was no telling how far I could trust him in dealing with Devlin. I’d have to remind him of a few things I had over his head before his meeting.

  And maybe allude to the fact that I had left a few moderately ambiguous clues for Merc to find along with the broken window. This time, I was making damn sure the trump card ended up in my hand at the end. And if that meant pinning the whole heist on Wilson—rightfully so, really—then I wouldn’t lose any sleep.

  Until I knew for damn certain where Aubrey’s motivations were, however, I could have a problem in that department. Aubrey did ask a lot of questions—always wanting to know the plan.

  I pulled off my beanie and dragged my hands through my hair, loosening the knots and jerking at fistfuls until my brain cleared.

  “You’re a paranoid fuck,” I told myself. I’d been hanging out with too many criminals and unsavories lately. Wilson lived in a constant state of paranoia—a side effect of all the drugs. And possibly syphilis or some other STI eating his brain. I’d call it karma if I believed in it, but really… you are what you fuck.

  And that’s why I would never go near Devlin’s seconds or anyone who works for him. Not to mention the general unattractiveness of being anywhere near something my brother had touched with his dick.

  Until Aubrey. And now I was flying around so far outside of my usual course, I was letting every little thing get to me. I was letting Aubrey get to me. Her stubbornness, death stares, and endless worrying and questions.

  Rubbing my face, I scratched my nose again. I could still felt the burn of the hit the night before. The tease of euphoria. Everything reminded me of everything I wanted to forget. And I had a package waiting at home to continue taunting me. With a girl waiting in my car enlisted to drive me to it.

  I had taken my first hit at sixteen, trying to forget the scene of my mom’s funeral. I’d stolen it from Merc and then spent a weekend in misery on a couch at Jace’s house. I practically lived there after Merc “adopted” me. I didn’t touch it again until years later when I once again lost the most important woman in my life.

  I wanted Devlin running hot. Out of control and thinking he’s invincible. Maybe fighting fire with fire didn’t work in every case, but there were some times when it was necessary. When a fire is burning so hot and fast there’s no other way to put it out. A well-timed explosion to draw out all of the fuel, and the fire would destroy itself. I had to strike at the right moment. Then, I hoped to sit back and watch while Devlin destroyed himself.

  Merc couldn’t blame that one on me. He’d try. He always tried.

  If Devlin got a flat tire on a new ride, Merc could pin it on me. But this… There’d be nothing left worth pinning on me. Maybe Merc would fold just as easily with his son out of the way.

  Or, maybe he’d become impossible and destroy the entire city.

  Either way, something epic was coming. Something bigger than boosting cars and fucking with everyone’s mind.

  I crossed the municipal parking lot where I’d told Aubrey to meet me and tapped on the passenger door of my car. Aubrey jumped, then she unlocked the doors and I climbed in.

  “Where’s the car?” she asked.

  It had to be a question first thing didn’t it? “No longer my problem. Drive back to Waller and take the same back alley.”

  Instead of starting the car, she huffed and continued staring at me. “What if I had gotten arrested?”

  I gave her a flat look. “What’d you do?”

  “I ran a stop sign like you told me.”

  I’d almost forgotten about that petty detail. I was too wrapped up in Wilson drama. “People often get arrested for that where you’re from?”

  “When they’re stealing a car, yes! He ran the tags.”

  “Car is clean,” I mumbled, disarming my gun and slipping it into my duffle.

  “What if Devlin had set me up again and they’d found something when they ran my ID?” Her voice had that damned high-pitched drone again.

  “Darlin’, you’re spending a lot of time worrying about irrelevant ‘what ifs’ that didn’t happen. Start the car and drive before I come up with an even better way for you to spend your time.”

  When we got back to the fuck house, I took the car keys from Aubrey and locked the Civic in the shed. We walked—finally in silence—back to the house, but Aubrey stuttered to a stop.

  “Whose car?” She pointed to the silver sedan.

  “Jace.” I kept walking and opened the driver’s door to my car.

  She arched her eyebrow. “So he’s covering for you, too?”

  I shrugged and ducked into the car. “I may have asked him if he wanted to use the place tonight—he didn’t want to know anything else.”

  She shook her head and dropped into the seat beside me. “You’re as big of a manipulator as Devlin.”

  A brave thing to say in such a closed space. I grabbed the top of her thigh and squeezed until she doubled over, attempting to pry my hand away. “Choose your battles, Aubrey. Think carefully about when and why you want to open your mouth.”

  “I’ll shut up when you give me a reason to not worry about Devlin’s new threat.”

  I jerked the gear lever down and trumped on the gas, throwing her forward as I backed into the alley. “I’ll keep the heat off of you. Wilson is meeting with him tomorrow. That should keep him occupied enough for the time being.”

  “How far will he go to convince you to use again?” Her question was quieter, putting on the façade that she actually cared.

  I closed my eyes for a second and rubbed my fingers against my temples and forehead. Didn’t anyone realize that every time they asked that question just drove me closer to the edge? “I won’t. We’ll find a way around it.”

  I had to find a way around it.

  Heroin.

  My fucking dream.

  A wet dream.

  Better.

  I wanted to use. I wanted to give in—and that’s exactly why I couldn’t. I didn’t think I’d ever crawl out of that place again. Devlin would win and I’d be out of the game for good. And I’d lose everything I had worked for.

  “Why?” Aubrey asked.

  I realized I’d been driving through town on autopilot and I had no idea what she was talking about anymore, but that convoluted word that never had an answer cut through my own unheard conversation. All I wanted to do was sleep for a few days, but there was only one way that’d happen.

  I glanced across at her and squinted waiting for her to repeat whatever she wanted to know so we could get it over with.

  “Why are you and Devlin doing this? It has to be more than a brotherly feud.”

  My answer came without thinking. “It always is when your family deals in nothing but crime and death.”

  “So…. He killed someone you care about?”

  I squeezed the steering wheel.

  “Or vise versa?”

  “Leave it.” I clenched my teeth together. My muscles were too tight to move.

  “I’m in over my head already—give me something.”

  “Darlin’, you don’t want to dive in any deeper.”

  “Family business. You always talk about family business, so what does your Mom do—?”

  “Stop.” Now she was definitely trying to rile me. I had to remind myself not to hit her. I couldn’t even touch her. She’d alre
ady gone too far and I would to.

  “—tend to hookers?”

  My hands twitched to choke those words out of her mouth. “My mom’s worst crime was falling for Merc, and thanks to him, she’s six feet under. This isn’t a game, Aubrey. We can talk about rules, and turns, and tactic, but you’re going to end up floating ass up in the river if you don’t watch where you step.”

  “I’m sorry,” her voice softened. “I just wanted to understand what we’re fighting for.”

  “You’re fighting to live. I’m doing the same. Why do you fucking have so many questions?” Luckily, we’d made it back to my house and I sped up the driveway, stomped on the brake, and yanked the transmission into park.

  “There has to be more to it,” Aubrey started again. Why didn’t she ever know when to stop? “You don’t fight to survive a fire by stoking the flames that are out to singe you.”

  “God damn it, Aubrey,” I yelled, shoving my door open and climbing out. I needed away from her. “What the fuck does it matter? Do you intend to dig until you find something to give Devlin?”

  There. It slipped out.

  Aubrey was wide-eyed with tears pooled in her eyes. She shook her head, opening and closing her mouth several times before she found words. “You…. You think I’d help him. It was you who told me to play his game. I got in this deep because I didn’t understand what was really going on. I just want to know—I figure knowing my enemy is better than walking around like a naïve fool. I need something.”

  “You need something,” I chuckled. She needed a gag or a fucking tranquilizer. “You need to learn how to go along for the ride and just enjoy it.”

  “Bullshit,” she yelled coming around the car at me. “You don’t want me to enjoy it. Devlin doesn’t want you to enjoy it. And I…” she trailed off and stared across the yard. “I don’t want to just sit around and wonder what’s coming after me and when. You and Devlin… you’re both thoroughly fucked up, and I sure as hell never want to meet Merc, but there is no enjoying the ride. Devlin stole my life. I want it back, and I want him to go down.

  “You terrify me—what you do, terrifies me in every way. I hate you, and I don’t even care. I’m working with you because we want the same fucked up thing. You know my reasoning and you asked me to make my choice, and now you ask me to trust that you’re going to take care of everything, but I can’t….” Her fury faded into something else. She met my gaze, but her eyes were softer, almost pleading. “I can’t trust. I can’t wait and see.”

  God damn it. I smashed the drop of empathy before it had a chance to grow into something bigger. Keeping her close by—it was the only option, and yet, it was one of the most dangerous ones. “The deeper you go, the more you understand, the less likely you are to ever see the light of day again. The less likely you are to want to see the light of day.”

  “I’m basically your personal whore, Colt. And your driver slash lookout when you need to boost a car—“

  “Don’t say whore, you’ll start sounding like Wilson.” Then, for some reason, I chuckled. “At least you’re getting the boost lingo down though.”

  Aubrey didn’t see the humor. She hunched over and sat against the hood of her car. “If I’m going to spend the next six months immersed in your world, help me understand. I’m pretty much working for you now right?”

  “Do you think that knowing why I’m doing anything or understanding my family is going to make you feel any better about what you’re doing? You’re here because you didn’t want to strip and entertain Devlin and his friends. That isn’t enough?”

  She sighed and covered her face with her hands. “I guess,” she mumbled.

  “Sometimes there is no plan, Aubrey. Sometimes you just have to take advantage of what’s in front of you.”

  “Life advice from a car thief and former heroin addict.”

  I shrugged. “I do know how to live.”

  “You want me to hate you. You want me to work with you. You want me to trust you, and fuck you, and fight you, and beg, and do what you say, and….” She threw her hands up in the air. “I just want to be able to wrap my head around it.”

  I sighed. I wasn’t even sure I could wrap my own mind around it sometimes. I didn’t want to analyze why I wanted her here. I just wanted her to be quiet and do as I asked. But that wasn’t ever going to happen. “How did you feel when you finally came tonight?”

  She wrapped her coat tightly and herself and lowered her gaze to the ground.

  “Come on, Aubrey, I’ve been answering questions all day. You want answers from me, give me this one.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she rubbed her hands against her thighs. “Mortified. Furious. Exhausted. Like everything suddenly released in one jolt. I wanted to cry and scream and punch you. And I just wanted to fall. To chase my breath and my racing heart while everything else faded into oblivion.”

  I released my breath and a whisp of fog rose past my face. “I never feel any of those things.”

  She raised her head to face me again, quietly staring at me for a long moment. Too long. “Not even exhaustion?”

  “I don’t know.” I looked up at the cloudless star-filled sky as I spoke. I didn’t want to hear my own words. “My body wants sleep, food, but it doesn’t mean anything. I used heroin to turn it all off and before long, heroin was all I felt. I like watching you. Feeling you fight and dig deep to hold on to the things that make you Aubrey. You’re real. Your lack of understanding of this world keeps you honest and vulnerable.”

  As fast as it all slipped free, I wanted to erase it all from the air between us. To erase anything except hatred that she might feel toward me. I needed her to hate me because I couldn’t hate myself. There was nothing good in me. And anyone who acted like there was simply got on my nerves. They were too stupid to breathe. I didn’t need my ego stroked or the pitifulness of someone’s rose colored glasses.

  I was as bad as Devlin.

  I had to be if I wanted to win.

  I had to be worse.

  The nothingness I felt would either be an asset on my way to taking him down, or it’d get me killed. Pathetic.

  “You have some serious issues,” she said, kicking at the dirt and gravel near the car tire. “What about Isabella? Do you feel anything for her?”

  “No,” I lied and it was a mistake because Aubrey knew it.

  She made a sound in her throat and straightened, starting for the front porch. My stomach grumbled as I followed. If not for its vocal insistence, I’d probably forget to eat more often.

  Just as I thought we were finally done, she faced me again. “When is the last time you felt something?”

  “You mean aside from the excruciating pain of withdrawing from heroin?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t remember.” Another lie. Didn’t I say I was the truthful one? “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t intend to be fixed, darlin’. Or solved. I’m not a Rubik’s cube.”

  Barely able to keep her eyes open, she dropped her shoulder against the wall near the front door. “Good, I’m shit at those things. I’d rather chuck one through a window.”

  “Then, maybe I am a Rubik’s cube.” I pushed the front door open and Isabella jumped up and skittered across the floor to meet us.

  “Well, I’m too exhausted and hungry to bother with chucking you through anything right now. Can I just eat and go to sleep?”

  “That’d be much easier if you’d stop asking so many infuriating questions.”

  “The ride would not have gone any faster in silence. Can’t believe you thought I’d betray you for your asshole brother though. He’s done nothing good for me, and I’m sure he deserves whatever you’re planning—even if I don’t understand any part of your world.”

  Chapter 12

  Somehow, the world didn’t implode when Devlin and Wilson met and made their crooked agreement. If Colt ever found out any of the details, he sure as hell didn’t give me a clue.

  But, he
didn’t act any more worried than normal. He didn’t reach for the heroin—or even tell me where he’d hidden it. Devlin left me alone, too. For the first two quiet weeks, I was paranoid, waiting for the knock on the door, the call, or the text, but as Colt and I settled into our own odd rhythm, I embraced the quiet—when he’d let me.

  Even as we approached nearly six weeks into our agreement, I could never predict what, when or even where his advances would come from. They always seemed calculated and perfectly planned, but he sprang them on me without so much as a warmup or warning.

  Three times, he woke me with his cock already inside me. He’d crashed my showers, interrupted meals—even causing a few to end up burned and inedible in the process. I think within six weeks, he’d had me bent over, pinned against or tied to every piece of furniture in the house. I had marks around my wrists, bruises down my side, scratches on my legs. I fought. Just like he wanted. I’d even landed some of my own bruises and scratches on him. I had begged—sometimes for him to stop. And sometimes for him to finish me so I could slip away on my mini-vacation of ecstasy.

  He never seemed to tire. Even when he had me so exhausted that I could barely keep my eyes open despite the pain, pleasure, or whatever the hell he decided to inflict on me.

  Day in and day out, that’s how we went around. But more and more often, I had quiet time to curl up and read, go outside and brave the cold with Isabella, or exchange light-hearted texts with Aiden. I had time and space to breathe for the first times in years. Sometimes, that terrified me more than Colt.

  He spent most of his time prepping, planning or working on his model cars. As much as I wanted something to distract or occupy my own mind, I left him alone to it and minded my own business.

  Friday night, I curled up in bed. It was freezing and Colt rarely turned the heater up over sixty. Isabella curled up against me, her head on my stomach while I read.

  “I have a job tonight,” Colt said. He always waited until right before he left to tell me.

  “I know.” His work routine was the most predictable thing about him. This would be his third boost since stealing Merc’s car. The first time, I was shocked that he’d sprung it on me, then left me alone. The second time, less so, but this time I had his timing down and knew before I woke up that this would be the night.