Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1)

by Carian Cole

  Her expression softens. "I wasn't expecting such a serious conversation tonight. This is the most you've ever talked about yourself. But since we're being honest...I'm not into games, either. I guess now is the time for me to tell you I'm separated."

  Her admission comes out of left field and causes me to take a short involuntary step back.

  "You're married?"

  "Separated for about a year. The divorce is almost final. It's totally over between us - no lingering feelings at all." I wonder how can two people be married and not have any feelings left?

  "What happened?" I know I'm picky, but I always pictured myself marrying someone who wasn't already someone's ex-wife.

  She shrugs and stares off someplace behind me. "We grew apart. We got bored. We stopped wanting it. It just wasn't meant to be."

  So much for ‘til death do us fucking part.

  "Okay. I'm glad you told me. I had no idea."

  "Do you think there's any possibility of us going further? Or am I wasting my time? I don't mind being friends and taking things slow, but I definitely want more than that. I'm not sure I can date you and not get physically or mentally interested."

  Who am I to judge what's a waste of someone else's time? If we don't end up screwing or in love, does that constitute a waste? In some ways yes, in some ways no.

  "I don't really know. You've already made comments about me being too quiet and cold, and I know you don't agree with all the things I do. I guess you have to ask yourself if you really do want more. And yeah, I ask myself does this chick like me for me, or because I ooze sex, as you put it?"

  "I guess it's a little of both. But in my defense, you're a hard guy to get to know, Tor."

  I can't argue with that. "True enough. But I'm trying."

  "I can see that you are," she takes a deep breath. "So now that we've talked about all that, can we see each other again? Now that I understand you more?"

  "We can. Just as long as we're clear there's no promises."

  "That's fine. I don't need promises. But if you get...lonely...I wouldn't say no," she hints, raising her perfect eyebrow up at me.

  Lisa just lost a point.

  "I surpassed lonely a long time ago, honey. But thanks."

  Her cheeks turn crimson. "On that note, I'm going to go inside. But I'd really like to see you again."

  "I'll call you." I give her a quick kiss before she unlocks her door and disappears into her house.

  Maybe I'm stupid, looking for something I'll never find, and I should've continued this date like a normal guy would have instead of going back home to my empty house and empty bed alone. I just want that magical feeling I wrote about years ago when I used to write the lyrics for the band’s rock ballads. I want crazy fucking love. I want someone that'll never let me go. I want to wake up to my best friend every day.

  7

  Kenzi

  Kenzi ~ age twelve

  Toren ~ age twenty-seven

  "What's wrong?" He's towering over my bed, his faded leather jacket dusty from the ride he just came back from.

  I roll over onto my side, away from his stare, and pull my blanket up higher, almost covering my head.

  "It's just my stomach."

  The weight of his body sinks the side of the bed as he sits beside me and his hand lightly touches my shoulder.

  "Kenzi? Are you sick?"

  Another cramp tears through my stomach. I'm pretty sure I'm dying. I want my mom. The last thing I want to do is talk about this with him.

  Grinding my teeth, I force myself to answer him. "I'm fine. My stomach just hurts."

  "Did you eat something bad? Have you been throwing up?"

  "No, Uncle Tor. Go away."

  A frustrated sigh comes from behind me. "I'm the only one here, remember? I can't go away. Stop being like this and tell me what's wrong. Do you want me to take you to a doctor? I could call your Grandmother..."

  "Tor, no. Just leave me alone." I want to cry from the pain in my stomach and the unexplained sorrow and irritability that's taking over my life.

  "I'm not leaving. Your parents are gone for two more days, so you're stuck with me unless you want me to call your Grandmother."

  "Please don't. I don't want to bother her."

  Another cramp rips through my uterus and I scrunch myself up further into the fetal position.

  He clears his throat. "Do you have your period?" His voice is soft, tentative and caring, and I want to kick him.

  "Oh my God...did you seriously just ask me that? Get out of my room."

  "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Kenz. Do you need anything? Have you had this before or...?" His voice fades off awkwardly.

  "Just leave me alone!" God. Could my life be any more embarrassing?

  The sound of his boots thudding along my carpet and down the hall is a relief. Good. Now I can suffer in peace. I'm furious with my parents right now for being gone all the time and not being here when I'm having some kind of crisis. It's not fair.

  A few minutes later he's back in my room and throws a small pink bag on the bed. I peer into it to see a bunch of tampons and napkins. I rally between throwing up and crawling under the bed for the rest of my life. My dad's best friend just touched period stuff. There must be some kind of law against this.

  "I got those from your mom’s bathroom. Since you won't answer me, I hope you know how to use them because that goes way beyond my realm of responsibility."

  I think I grow fangs when I glare up at him. "I hate you right now. I want to die." I pull the blanket over my head.

  He tugs the blanket back down off my head. "Hate me all you want, I don't fucking care. I got you all this too. Be glad I know where your parents keep everything in this place." A pile of stuff lands on my bed. A bottle of Midol, a heating pad, and a chocolate bar.

  I start to cry. "Please go away. You're not supposed to know this stuff!"

  He rubs his forehead and shoves his hand through his long hair. "I've lived with women, Kenzi. I know about this stuff, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's part of life and being an adult."

  I try to burrow into my pillow. "I don't want to be an adult. It hurts."

  He laughs. "No shit."

  "Fuck all this."

  "It doesn't get any easier, Angel."

  "I hate you."

  He leans down and kisses my messy head. "No, you don't. And I love you no matter how evil you try to act." He straightens up. "I'll be downstairs if you need me or want to rifle more obscenities at me. I kinda like it."

  I smile behind the blanket as he walks towards my door.

  "Uncle Tor?"

  Halting, he turns back. "Yeah?"

  "Thank you."

  He winks at me and finally leaves me alone to wallow in my feelings of yuck.

  I decide right there that even though I yelled at him like a raging bitch, he's pretty much the coolest guy in the world.

  Kenzi

  After a shitty week at school and sitting in my bedroom every night immersing myself in a book trying to forget the outside world exists, I'm glad tonight is bonfire night at our house. I need to be around some humans who aren't high school asshole bitches.

  "Kenzi!" Rayne yells as soon as she sees me come out of the house and onto the back deck.

  Grabbing a soda first, I make my way across the yard, past small groups of chatting people to where she's standing with a guy I've never met but looks vaguely familiar. Rayne is gorgeous as ever, her long hair recently dyed black with purple and blonde highlights and the start of a light golden tan touching her skin. Her winged eyeliner is perfect and on point, enhancing her feline green eyes.

  "I want you to meet Sailor," she says, smiling from ear to ear. "He's a local guitarist. This is Asher's daughter, Kenzi."

  "Nice to meet you," he says. "I've been friends with your dad for a while. He's an amazing mentor."

  "Hi...and thank you. He's pretty great." Sailor is too cute for words with wavy brown hair that touches his shoulders, ey
es the color of the sea, and an adorable smile that reminds me of a five-year-old boy who got caught doing something naughty. He looks like 1992 Eddie Vedder.

  "Are you a musician, too?" he inquires.

  I shake my head with a laugh. Everyone asks me that once they realize who I am. "No...sadly that talent seems to have skipped me in this family."

  "She models," Rayne adds. "And she does this amazing calligraphy. She wrote the words tattooed on my back in calligraphy for me, and my artist copied it. And she wrote the lettering for the title on my brother’s last CD."

  Sailor makes an impressed face and his smile widens, showing off his perfect white teeth. "Wow. I didn't think anyone wrote in calligraphy anymore."

  My smile agrees with him. "Exactly. It's kinda useless, I guess. I just like the way it looks. I love paper and ink."

  He tilts his head, his eyes squinting just a bit and I think both Rayne and I drool a little. "I think it's incredibly cool. Not useless at all. I'm sure there's a lot of people who would want that. I love the tattoo idea. I may just hit you up on that myself."

  "That would be awesome." I wonder if he and Rayne are dating or if she called me over here in an attempt to set us up. I can't say I mind if that's her plan, especially after the disaster with Jason.

  My question is answered by Rayne's attention zoning in elsewhere. "Tristan is here. I haven't seen him in a while," she gestures over to a group of people across the yard, where Tristan is hanging out with Tor. "Is he single now?"

  Hmm. So she's hawking on Tor's brother. "I'm not sure," I reply. "I see him at the shop all the time but I've never seen him with a girl."

  Rayne continues to stare, her green eyes sparkly with interest. "He's hot as hell just like the rest of that clan. Find out for me, Kenzi. Tor will tell you anything."

  "Okay...I guess I could ask him."

  Sailor laughs. "Why don't you just go talk to him? Don't make her do your dirty work."

  Rayne playfully smacks him on the arm. "You be quiet. I'm too shy to just walk up to him."

  "You've known him forever. It's not like he's a stranger." I remind her.

  "I know...but I haven't seen him in about two years. He probably won't even remember me."

  Sailor and I exchange a glance and smile. There's no way Tristan won't recognize her. She's not the kind of girl who’s easily forgettable, even though she's oblivious to it.

  Rayne grabs Sailor's hand, diverting his attention from me. "Let's go get some food. My brother makes a mean burger. You want to come, Kenzi?"

  "No, I'm good," I reply. "Nice meeting you, Sailor."

  "You, too. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

  I nod hopefully as Rayne drags him up to the patio where my dad is manning the grill. After the stress of dealing with rumors about prom night all week at school, I still have no appetite for food. My stomach has been in knots from the whispers and judgmental glances.

  I cross the yard and sit on a bench overlooking a stone water fountain my dad had installed last summer after I told him I love the sound of water. It's right below my bedroom window and being able to hear it when my windows are open is incredibly soothing. My father has always tried to create a calm, quiet, almost zen-like atmosphere for us, which is odd considering he's in a loud rock band and immersed in noise of some sort most of the time.

  "I hope you wore that because you remembered."

  His voice startles me, and at first I can barely see him leaning against a tree about five feet away.

  "Huh?"

  He nods his head up and shifts his eyes to my head. "The hat."

  Oh yeah. My hand reaches up to touch the black beanie covering my head. I did remember, actually, that he said he wanted it, but I was expecting him to forget all about that conversation. Apparently, he didn't. My heart twinges.

  "Come over here, Angel." His voice is transformed by the dusky night; familiar but tinged with a deeper, gravelly tone that makes my legs wobbly as I stand and walk over to him.

  "What are you doing over here in the trees?"

  "Watching you. You say you like being around everyone on bonfire night, but you always end up sitting off by yourself."

  "So do you."

  He smiles. "Guilty as charged."

  What we don't say is we usually end up sitting alone together, one of us eventually going to the other.

  "I came to get the hat you owe me for all the stuff of mine you've taken. Hand it over," he says playfully.

  "It doesn't work that way. You have to take it yourself."

  "Fair enough." He steps towards me and when he takes the knit beanie off my head, a halo of staticy hair surrounds my face. His signature snarly but sexy grin takes over his face as he pulls my hat over his dark messy hair, which I've just noticed is not in a ponytail tonight and I want to believe he left it loose for me.

  "How do I look?"

  He looks less like the man I've known my entire life and more like a dangerous stranger with eyes and a smile that could melt a glacier in two seconds flat.

  "It looks good on you."

  Cocking his head, he frowns like he doesn't believe me. "You hesitated before you answered. What was your first thought? Spit it out."

  "That you look hot as fucking hell." The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them, and we stand there as he takes them in and I try to wish them back. Oops.

  He coughs into his fist. "Well. I wasn't expecting that."

  Me, either.

  I swallow hard over the anxiety that's suddenly bubbling up inside me.

  "You were right, though," I say nervously. "You can definitely rock a purple heart."

  "I told you I could," His hands capture my head and smooth down my fly away hair. "I made your hair all messy."

  "Is Tristan single?" I blurt out, attempting to distract myself from how his fingers feel in my hair, strong and electrifying.

  "Tristan? Why would you want to know that?"

  "Rayne was asking. She saw him with you earlier."

  He shoves his hands into his front pockets. "I think he is...but I thought she came here with Drifter."

  "Sailor." I correct. "And she did but I think she was trying to set us up. They must just be friends."

  I notice him biting the inside of his cheek as he contemplates this. "Your dad doesn't want you to date musicians."

  Here we go again. "Jason turned out to be an epic asshole, so maybe a musician would be better after all."

  He rocks on his heels. "Maybe. You won't get that picture perfect little life you said you wanted with a musician. With the kids and the dogs and the dinners."

  "Jesus, Tor. I'm talking about dating, not marriage. I just want to have some fun like everyone else. He's really cute."

  "Just be careful. He's older than you, probably has lots of experience...I don't want you to get hurt again."

  I shake my head and step away from him, heading back to my bench. "Why do you always have to switch back into uncle mode?"

  "What's wrong with that?" he asks, following me. "I worry about you."

  Why is everyone always worried about me? Do they think I'm going to spontaneously combust someday?

  "Well, don't. I just want you to be my friend."

  "Aren't I?"

  "Yeah...mostly. I think."

  He touches my arm and I turn to face him. "I'm always your friend, Kenzi. Not mostly. Always."

  I've wondered about that a lot lately, especially since he mentioned us not seeing each other as much once I graduate, like his work with me was done. That's been slowly eating at me, planting seeds of doubt.

  "Are you?" I ask. "Or do you just hang out with me and give me things to do as a favor to my parents?"

  "Why are you being so moody? You've never doubted me before."

  "I don't know," I admit. "I guess I'm just nervous about graduating and things changing. And I've had a shit week with the kids at school calling me a slutty prude."

  "Slutty prude?" He repeats. "How is that even a thing?"


  I throw my hands up. "I have no idea! Leave it to me to create some new form of loser. It's been total hell."

  "Let's sit," he leads me to the bench and I fall into it with a big sigh of frustration. "I know it's hard growing up, Kenz. Change can suck, but it can be good, too. You've had a rough couple years."

  "That's an understatement."

  "And fuck those idiots at your school. They don't know you."

  "I guess..."

  "I just want you to be happy." He says it like it should be so simple.

  "I'm trying to be. Life just keeps getting in my way."

  We watch the water splash in the fountain for a few minutes, and then he digs into his front jeans pocket.

  "Here," he holds his hand out to me and drops a penny into my hand. "We can make wishes here in your fountain," he says.

  "I never thought of that." My smile returns. "You go first."

  He cocks his head as he thinks for a moment, then he tosses his penny into the water.

  I watch the shiny copper coin sink to the bottom of the fountain. "Okay...tell me what you wished for."

  "I wished you would never doubt me again. I've spent almost eighteen years being there for you, Angel. Because I want to. No one ever made me or expected me to. You're just where I always wanted to be."

  My heart nearly stops.

  I close my eyes for a long moment as his words echo through me, bouncing off the walls of my soul before settling into my heart where they'll live forever.

  "Tor..."

  "Don't," his voice is low, a subtle warning. "Just make your wish."

  My hand shakes as I throw my penny, I miss, and it lands in the grass somewhere, lost in the dark.

  "Shit." I mutter. My wish lays in the lawn someplace, unspoken. And maybe that's for the best right now.

  "I'll get it."

  I can't take my eyes from him as he kneels over in the dark, hunting for my penny like it's a buried treasure. His inked arm flexes with hard muscle as he runs his hand through the grass, and my insides flutter in response. I shouldn't be looking at him this way, or thinking of him this way, but I can't tear my attention from him.