My Torin

by K. Webster

  Dying. Dying. Dying.

  No escape from it. It’s inevitable.

  But what had me losing my mind was watching them through the slat in the wall. The way they gravitate toward each other, both eager for touch. I want to touch Casey so goddamned bad it hurts, but my body refuses. Hell, it’s all I can do to force myself to look at her most days.

  I want her.

  With every part of my being.

  I want to peel away her clothes, kiss her pouty lips, and sink my cock deep inside her to claim her as mine.

  And last night, I had to watch as my brother stuck his tongue down her throat because I couldn’t. The stinging sensation of a knife through the heart still burns through me. All I could do was watch them. As he held her as though she belonged to him.

  She’s mine.

  She’s always been mine.

  Her body moved with his, tentative and unsure but eager.

  Jealousy raged through me. I wanted to charge in there and yank her into my arms instead. All I could do, though, was watch helplessly. He brought Casey for me, but then he took her anyway. The fury blazing through me was doused the moment he had a seizure. Her terrified scream jolted me into action. I was scared to death he’d die too soon. But he’s coming home. Today, in fact. And when he gets here, I’ll make sure to let him know that Casey isn’t his.

  She’s mine.

  A small moan escapes her as she begins to wake. It makes me hyperaware of every part of her that touches me. Having her pressed against me is more soothing than my cats or my weighted blanket. It just feels nice. Perfect. I wish there were a way I could do more to show her how much I want her. When her thigh rubs against my cock, it hardens at her touch.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I clench my eyes closed and my hands automatically tighten into fists. Her leg rubs against me again, sending pleasure zinging to the ends of my hairs and the tips of my toes. Images of my cock stretching her open and owning her have me growing dizzy with need.

  My dick throbs and strains against my boxers. Pre-cum seeps from the tip of my cock and trickles onto my flesh. Holy shit, I’ll come right now if she doesn’t stop with the rubbing. But I’m helpless to push her away. I haven’t ever been with a woman. I’m on a first name basis with my hand, but I’ve never been rubbed against so intimately.

  A choked groan garbles from me. My heart is racing in my chest.

  “Torin?” she breathes, her voice thick with sleep.

  Her palm splays on my chest and she slides it a little lower on my abdomen. That’s all it takes. I hiss as my orgasm spurts from my dick like a goddamned out of control water hose. It soaks my boxers and immobilizes me as it takes over. My hips lift from the bed slightly, even with her up against my side, as I come in such a humiliating way. Flames of embarrassment singe me from the inside out. Her body stiffens beside me. I’ve probably just scared the hell out of her or disgusted her. Either way, she’s not making a sound.

  “Casey-Casey,” I grit out as I jerk away from her.

  She cries out my name and her hand reaches for me, her fingertips dragging along my abs as I’m pulling away. I don’t stick around, though. I stumble from the bed to the wall and slip inside. Her voice echoes inside my head as I run to my safe haven.

  Torin. Torin. Torin.

  Why can’t I be like Tyler, dammit?

  I just want to hold and kiss and fuck my woman.

  She is my woman.

  And I don’t care if I have to write them both an email, attaching a forty-page PowerPoint presentation explaining that she’s mine, because I will.

  I so fucking will.

  “I’m fine,” Tyler grumbles. “I swear it.”

  Torin stares at him, emotionless, but doesn’t leave his bedside. I can’t help but notice the two brothers’ differing appearance. At one time, Tyler seemed the physically stronger brother. Older, wiser, healthy. Now, he’s pale and pasty. Weak and shaky. Torin resembles a statue made from stone, towering over him. Unbreakable. Unmovable. Solid.

  Torin’s eyes slide to mine. Irritation flickers in his gaze, despite his impassive features. Then, he reaches for his phone. Moments later, mine buzzes.

  Torin: He’s not fine. Look at him.

  I frown as I reply.

  Me: We just need to get him to eat a little something and then rest.

  Torin: Okay…and then we need to talk.

  Blinking up at him, I try to work out what’s going on in his head. Torin isn’t the talking type, so I’m not sure what he wants to talk about. Guilt niggles at my heart. Unless he saw Tyler and me kissing. My neck heats as I avoid eye contact with Torin. Instead, I slide my stare over to Tyler. His eyes are closed as he starts to fall asleep.

  My heart aches at seeing him so wiped out. When we’d left the hospital earlier today, he had to be wheeled out. But by the time we got home, he walked in on his own. It took everything out of him, though. I thought he was going to pass out at any moment.

  I brush his hair away from his forehead and his eyes flutter open. He manages a small smile before they close again. I press a kiss to his cheek and then crawl off the bed. Torin stalks from the room and I have to hurry after him. Once he’s in the living room, he sits on the couch with his eyes glued to his screen, fingers tapping away.

  Sometimes I wish he would just talk to me the way Tyler does.

  Buzz.

  Torin: You’re mine.

  His words are so blunt, I laugh. But he’s not laughing. Nor is he even looking at me.

  Torin: You can’t kiss him because you’re mine.

  Fire blooms inside my chest and I lift my chin in a defiant way. Except my combative glares don’t work when the person you want to use them on doesn’t look at you. With a huff, I reply via text.

  Me: You’re not my dad. I can kiss whoever I want.

  Torin: Whomever. And no. You can’t.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I scoff.

  His jaw clenches as he types.

  Torin: No. I don’t joke. Ever.

  Me: Mr. Serious. Got it. Anything else I can’t do, Warden?

  Torin: That’s all for now.

  “It was a rhetorical question,” I snap, anger making my hands shake. “Torin.”

  He grips his phone so tight, it looks as though he could crush it at any moment, but he refuses to look at me. Refuses or can’t? I don’t know the answer, but I’m tired of everything right now, including trying to figure him out.

  “If you want me so bad,” I taunt, “then come get me. I’m right here.”

  His nostrils flare and I can’t help but notice the hardness in his jeans. A thrill of heat surges through me. I can’t stop staring. Early this morning, I felt his arousal, but then he left before things could progress.

  The thought of having Torin on top of me naked—his lips melding with mine—is enough to make my mouth water. He’s so intense and gorgeous, but I don’t understand a thing that goes on in his head.

  And then there’s Tyler.

  My beautiful, sick, handsome Tyler.

  His mouth on mine had felt so comforting and right. I would’ve given him my virginity in that moment. Had he not had a seizure, we might have gone the distance. But as hot as that moment was, guilt haunted the recesses of my mind.

  Torin.

  I can’t deny our unspoken connection. It’s different than with Tyler. Tyler is fun and loving and easy.

  Torin is not fun. He’s not loving. And he’s difficult.

  So why is there such a strong pull to him? Why do my eyes seek him out whenever he’s in the room? How come I pray he’ll overcome his illness to make a move on me?

  When I stepped foot in this house, I never imagined I’d experience such confusing emotions.

  “Torin,” I hiss, walking over to him and standing in front of him. “If you want me so bad, I’m right here.”

  Instead of looking at me, he taps away on his phone.

  Torin: I want you so goddamned bad I can’t think
straight.

  Tears well in my eyes. This thing between Torin and me is too complicated and twisty. The things I need from him, he’ll never be able to give me. It’s hopeless. We’re hopeless. And yet, I try.

  “Your body wants me,” I breathe, gesturing to his cock that’s straining in his jeans.

  He grunts and then cracks his neck before typing again.

  Torin: Every molecule in my body wants you. The buzzing that maddens me is always silent in your presence. You’re like snow, Casey. Not the snow outside, but the snow on a bad television station. Loud. Scratchy. Deafening. But it’s consistent and calming. I find myself wanting to sit right in front of you and stare. I want to stare and stare and fucking stare.

  Emotion clogs my throat and my lip wobbles. “Just stare?”

  Torin: I wish I knew how to do more.

  Emboldened, I step closer and run my fingers through his hair. He tenses at my touch but doesn’t push me away. Slowly, I straddle his thighs and sit on his lap. His eyes are diverted, even as I cup his face and turn his chin up to look at me.

  God, he’s hot.

  Broken and lost inside that head of his.

  Not mine.

  He says he wants me, but he can’t even look at me.

  Scooting closer to him, I revel in the strangled sound that escapes him when my center rubs against his cock. I start to do it again, but then I’m dumped into the floor, my head thumping against the coffee table. Like a flash, Torin is gone. Simply vanished. His sounds echoing as he leaves me yet again.

  Instead of bursting into tears like I want to, I make my way back to Tyler.

  Safe, sweet, easy Tyler.

  I crawl into bed beside him and hug him tight. Even in his sleep, he pats at me in a comforting way. This is what I need. I went too long with no affection to be denied in the first potential relationship I’ve had, the very thing I crave most.

  I’m sorry, Torin.

  Two weeks later…

  “I did a thing,” I chirp from Tyler’s doorway.

  He stops frowning at his laptop to smile my way. “Is that so? What sort of thing?”

  Prancing over to him, I hop on the bed beside him and move the laptop to the end table that’s littered with medication. Some bottles knock over, but Tyler doesn’t flinch. He’s used to me by now. A little bull in a china shop, he always says.

  “Well, back before Christmas, I applied at an online college just to see. My grades weren’t great and I have my GED, but I just wanted to try. They directed me to some tests to take online and I actually did well on those.” I beam at him. “Then they accepted me.”

  “What?” His brown eyes gleam with happiness. “You got into college?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s just an online college, but they have financial aid and—”

  With surprising strength, he pulls me to him and gives me a fierce bear hug. “I’m so proud of you, Casey.”

  Silly tears sting at my eyes. Nobody has ever been proud of me. Ever. Not one single person. Lola says she’s proud, but I never felt it deep in my soul like I do with Tyler.

  Family.

  This is how family reacts.

  “What are you going to college for?” he asks, his fingers running through my hair.

  I sigh against him. “I’m not sure. I thought you could help guide me in the right direction.” I tilt up and look at him. “Working with you has been fun and interesting. I really like it. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it’s the first time I’ve felt a part of something and actually kind of good at it.”

  “You’re like a sponge, sweetheart. You suck it all up. Everything I tell you, you seem to absorb it. I know staying focused is hard, but you always listen when I teach you things.” His smile widens. “We should celebrate.”

  I lift up on my elbow to check his coloring. Today, his cheeks are pink and he’s lucid. It’s days like these he works and carries on like he’s not dying before our very eyes. “Celebrate how?”

  “Whatever you want,” he says.

  “Are you in any shape to leave the house?”

  “You want to leave?” His eyes glimmer with excitement.

  “Well, when I went to see Dr. Cohen last week, I saw an advertisement for…” I shake my head. Of course he can’t go do that.

  “For what?”

  “Nothing,” I say with a faux bright smile.

  His brow lifts and he fingers a strand of my hair. “Tell me.”

  Since the night I made out with him and he had a seizure, I’ve kept my distance. Not because Torin made his declaration but because my heart can’t take growing any closer to Tyler than I already am.

  “Casey,” he urges.

  I scrunch my nose at him. “I saw a billboard for a local arcade and indoor go-carts. I’ve never been to one before and it looked fun. I know you can’t ride the go-carts or anything. You’ll probably tire out walking. Gah, it was a stupid idea.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “Not stupid at all. And I might be sick, but I’m not dead. We’re doing this. Text Torin and let him know we’re leaving in an hour. A pinball machine is calling my name.”

  Biting my lip, I dart my gaze over his flesh, checking for the signs that he may not feel well enough to go. But everything about him today seems normal.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  He winks at me. “I really am proud of you, Casey.”

  “Thanks.” One simple word that he seems to drink in. What I want to say is, thank you for plucking me from my awful life where I was lonely, depressed, and no one cared. Thank you for moving me into your home and showing me what it’s like to be loved. Thank you for not treating me like a nuisance but an actual contributing member of society who is smart and has value. Mostly, thank you for being my friend and giving me my first kiss, even if it did end with a hospital visit. Thank you for being you.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He knows. He always knows.

  His eyes glimmer like they did when Dad bought him a car for his sixteenth birthday. Proud. Excited. Happy. Shocked. When he looks at her, he regards her as though she’s a gift he’s been waiting decades to open.

  I don’t like the glimmer.

  I don’t like the look.

  I especially don’t like the way she stares back at him.

  As if he saved her—which in a way, he did.

  As though he holds everything she could ever want in the palm of his hand.

  He holds everything I want in the palm of his hand. Casey’s tiny one is locked in his grip as they walk around the arcade playing games. I’ve never seen her look so beautiful. The lights from the machines shine shades of pinks and blues and greens on her snowy blond hair. Like she’s a blinking Christmas tree. Nobody at the arcade pays her any attention. They walk by as though she doesn’t matter.

  To us Kline brothers, she’s all that matters.

  I wish I were like Tyler. I wish I could openly grab her hand and parade her around, showing everyone who she belongs to. Instead, I have to skulk in the corner with my hoodie pulled over my head and my noise cancelling headphones on my head. I can still hear the sounds of the games and the teenagers laughing, but it’s muted in a way that doesn’t make me shut down.

  With Casey, I can’t afford to shut down.

  Every moment with her is a morsel that I desperately crave to devour.

  Even watching her from afar as she has the time of her life is enough. Tonight, when she’s sleeping in her bed, I’ll go see her. I’ve tried to leave her alone because she’s made it clear she doesn’t want me, but I can’t hold back any longer.

  I’m edgy and irritated and frantic.

  I just need to breathelicktastetouchsmellfeel her.

  Someone brushes against me and I shudder. I don’t fucking like it when they touch me. There’s only one person I want to touch every part of me. One person I want to wrap my naked body around. One person I want to taste and adore.

  Fuck, I hate how I am.

  Sometimes, I�
�ll scour the Internet for hours. I’m dying for answers. Therapies. Anything to help me be better for her. Casey needs affection and adoration and laughter.

  I can give her nothing.

  My chest aches inside at that notion.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  If I could somehow make her see how I feel about her in a way that means something. A daring action. A romantic declaration. Something that shows I need her and refuse to ever let her go.

  My hands curl into fists. I want to yank my phone out and tell her how perfect she is. I’m trembling to do just that. And yet, my body is working against me now. The sounds and smells and people everywhere are overwhelming the fuck out of me. I need to go home, crawl under my weighted blanket, pet my cute-as-hell cats, and then I’ll text her to let her know.

  Then.

  Then.

  Then.

  But what about now?

  My eyes lift and I seek her out. She’s at the pinball machine banging on the side buttons. Tyler is leaned up against the machine and laughing. It’s a memory I want to lock inside my head forever. When you never want to forget, you lock it away. You keep it until the end. Tyler and Dad never thought I remembered Mom.

  Her smell—sweet like a field of flowers in the summer.

  Her laugh—throaty and loud.

  Her touch—comforting.

  Mom has been gone for so long, but she’s not gone because in one moment, I can conjure up the exact lines on her face. The precise shade of green in her eyes. How her silky brown hair seemed to catch light and sparkle with red strands.

  She’s not gone.

  She’s here.

  Just like Dad.

  Just like Tyler will be.

  Casey too.

  All mine, safe inside my head where I can be the person I want to be. I can laugh and hug and joke and cry. A family. A family without trials or pain. No cancers or death or abandonment.

  Happy.

  Happy.

  Happy.

  Someone else bumps against me and I jerk away from them. My body is thrumming with energy—the negative kind.

  Buzzzzzzzz.

  Buzzzzzzzz.

  Buzzzzzzzz.

  The feeling is maddening. I like the static that Casey brings. Soft, white noise. Soothing. The chaos brewing inside of me gnaws at my inner self. Reminds him that this body is a cruel warden. A punisher of my spirit.