Tug

by KJ Bell

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “No, he ran out about an hour ago and hasn’t returned.”

  “Thank you,” I say and hang my head.

  I know exactly where he is, and I am pissed beyond reason as I stride purposefully back to my car.

  As expected, his car is in the driveway at Tori’s. I slip out of my pumps and toss them into the back seat. As I close the door without making a noise, the absurdity of what I’m doing sets it. I’m being quiet in hopes of catching them doing something wrong, although I pray I don’t.

  I turn the knob on the front door and relax when it opens. Tiptoeing through the living room, my eyes land on a copy of Rock-n-Roll Magazine on the floor with Brady’s photo. Brady and a half a dozen barely-clothed, gorgeous women. The headline reads, Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll. A Day in the Life of Overnight Rock Sensation Brady Hunter. If I wasn’t so angry, I’d actually feel bad for Tori. I would lose it, too if I was married to him and saw that cover. I step quietly down the hall and hear Tug and Tori’s voices coming from the kitchen. I stop to listen.

  “I don’t care what the article says. It isn’t true,” Tug tells her.

  “Did you read it?” Tori asks him.

  “I don’t have to,” he responds.

  “I did and between what I read and Brady not calling or Skyping for close to a week, I went ballistic. I called him about a hundred times and when he didn’t pick up, I sent him a text and told him we’re finished.”

  “Jesus, Tori. You can’t do that.”

  “I already did,” she mumbles and then I hear her sobbing. “I’m done!”

  What feels like a few minutes pass, but who knows, it may have been seconds.

  I inch closer to the end of the wall to see them, and now I wish I hadn’t. Tug’s holding her face affectionately, his thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones, wiping away tears. She lifts her head and their lips are so close, and I swear if she kisses him, I’m going to beat her ass. Of course, I won’t really. As pissed as I would be, I can’t harm a pregnant woman.

  “You need to call him, and tell him what you’ve been going through. He’d want to know. Tell him you love him and you miss him like crazy.”

  “I can’t.”

  “It’s easy. You pick up the phone, hit a button, and talk.”

  His teasing makes her laugh, and prickles my skin.

  “I can’t because I’m not sure I want to. I think I made a mistake choosing Brady. I thought he changed, but the guy on the cover of Rock-n-Roll Magazine is who he’s always been. You’re the one who has been there for me when I need you. I should have chosen you, and now I’m afraid it’s too late. Is it? Am I too late?”

  As the space between their lips closes, I burst into the kitchen, tears rolling down my cheeks and anger shooting through me.

  “Yes, Tug, is she too late? I think we’d both like to know.”

  “Oh, God, Maria,” Tori cries. I shake my head in disbelief. How can she act as if she’s concerned about me? “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to get hurt. My emotions are all over the place and with Brady gone …”

  “With Brady gone, what? You thought you’d have another try at his brother and fuck it if he had a fiance and a little boy that looks up to him. No biggie, as long as you feel better, right, Tor?”

  “No, that’s not it, I … oh, God. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  She puts on a fantastic show. “Wow,” I say, clapping. “You could win an Oscar for this performance.”

  “That’s enough, Maria.” Tug shouts, but I’m not deterred. I’m disgusted.

  “Oh, dear sweet Tuggy, always coming to Tori’s rescue. I’m surprised she can tie her own shoes without you helping her.”

  “I mean it. Lay off!” I turn my back on him and stare at the wall. “I love you,” he continues. “We need to talk, but here is not the place. Go to the loft and I’ll meet you there.”

  I spin back around. “Before or after you make a mistake with your brother’s wife for the second time?”

  His jaw locks, the vein in neck pulsating as he inhales. “Go to the loft, please. I’ll be a few minutes behind you.”

  After Maria storms out of the house, I hold Tori for a few minutes until she calms down. She tries to apologize. I don’t know if it’s for her confession or for hurting Maria, but she’s a mess, and I don’t ask her to clarify. “I don’t know what happened here or what it all means, but you have some serious thinking to do. You have a baby on the way.”

  “I know what I want,” she says. “I want to be with you, Tug.”

  Those fucking words have been spoken in my mind for as long as I can remember. Now that I hear them out loud, from her mouth, they don’t have nearly the impact I thought they would, though they do have an effect. I’m just not sure what it is.

  “I have to go talk to Maria. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay.”

  She frowns and I leave without another glance.

  When I arrive home, two suitcases rest near the wall by the front door. Maria is on the couch, her head buried in her hands.

  “Are you leaving?” I ask, terrified her answer is going to be, yes.

  Her head lifts, her tearful gaze meeting mine. She looks tired and drained, exhausted from crying, which stirs my guilt. “Do you love Tori?”

  I pull at my hair and sigh. “I don’t know.”

  “Of course you do.” She stands up, glaring at me. “You’re just too chicken shit to admit it.”

  “Fuck! It’s not so easy to work through my feelings for a woman I’ve recently fallen in love with and someone I’ve loved my entire life. The truth is, I love both of you.”

  “You can only have one,” she screams in my face.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  She shoves me backward. “To let me down gently and in person. How thoughtful of you.”

  I want to hold her, but I can’t move, crippled by the venom in her words.

  “No, to let you know I don’t want to be with Tori. The kind of love I have for you fucking hurts, and when I’m not with you, I ache inside. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I saw the two of you.” She huffs and turns her head. “You almost kissed her.”

  My fingers curl around her arm, but she doesn’t turn around. “You’re right and it’s the second time we almost kissed,” I admit and she recoils from my words, trying to pull her arm free, but I refuse to let her go.

  “Wow! You’re really doing an awesome job at selling how much you love me.”

  I jerk on her arm until she finally turns around. She lowers her gaze to the floor and I duck down to look up at her. “I’ve been confused, I admit. When you walked into that kitchen, I heard how hurt you were, and I thought I might lose you. The pain I felt made everything clear. I’ve been fucking up for the past few weeks, putting her first, and I’m sorry, but I’m giving you my heart. Please don’t leave.”

  “No, you gave your heart away long before we met, and Tori is never going to give it back. Don’t you see that? She’s going to keep it forever, because she knows she can.” Her hand covers her mouth as she fights back tears. “This is too much,” she says, removing my ring from her finger. She holds it out for me, and I stare at it like it’s on fire, and it will burn me if I touch it.

  “No. Fuck. No! I don’t want it. It’s yours.”

  My heart rips in two as she sets the ring on the table. “I need to think and I can’t do that around you. I texted Liv. I’m going to stay at her apartment for the weekend, clear my head, and then, I promise we can talk. Please give me these couple of days to process everything. If I allow you to put that ring back on my finger, I have to be certain you want it there.”

  “I do.” I throw my hands up in the air, and then I try to hug her but she backs away. “I’m not going to change my mind in an hour or a couple of days. If you need some time to think, then I understand. Just know that it’s you I want to spend my life with.”

  “I wish I could believe you,” she
says, her voice barely audible. “When we first met, I would have, but I’m stronger now, strong enough to know I deserve better than to continually be put second to a woman you’re still in love with.” Her warm hand presses into my cheek. She stretches up on her tiptoes and kisses me. I open my mouth and her tongue slides over mine. The kiss is soft and gentle. The emotion in the kiss sweeps through me and as her lips leave mine and she turns without a word, I realize, the kiss is goodbye.

  Watching her walk out the door, and out of my life, brings on a rush of unbridled anger. Before I know it, I tear through the loft, knocking pictures off the walls and tipping furniture on its side. Glass after glass from the bar explodes into sharp chunks against the wall, spraying the room with splintered fragments. I follow the glassware with bottles of alcohol that don’t shatter until they crash into the wood floor. Clear and amber liquids mix, spreading in different directions like the fingers of a lake.

  Demolishing the loft isn’t enough to tame my rage and without thinking, I rear back and slam my fist through the sliding glass window. Razor sharp edges slice easily through the skin and tissue in my hand, scrape over bone, and shoot pain all the way to my gut. The pain numbs the anger, but it will return, and when it does, it may very well kill me.

  Warm blood seeps out of my knuckles and trickles down my arm as I hold it in the air and walk to the kitchen for a towel.

  “Fuck!” I scream until my throat closes up and I can’t breathe. How many times have I been down this road with Tori, let her hurt me? What the fuck is wrong with me that I continually drop everything for her, knowing she’ll never stick with me? That I’m not the guy she wants to be with. It’s like I’m addicted to the heartache I feel every time she puts me through this shit. She doesn’t want me. She loves Brady. And for once, I don’t want her. I love Maria and I’m furious I let her walk out the door.

  The sinking feeling in my gut that I’ll never see her again brings me to my knees, and I have no idea how to convince her that it’s her I want in my life. I know she’ll change her mind. She’ll put that ring back on her finger. Believing she loves me enough to forgive me one last time is my only hope.

  She asked for two days. I don’t want to give it to her, but I know she’s devastated and pressuring her will only push her further away.

  Before I fully unwrap the towel on my hand, I grab my keys off the counter and leave the loft for the Emergency Room.

  As I drive to Tori’s house, I’m nervous about the conversation I’m about to have with her. After receiving forty-two stitches in my hand, I spent the rest of the night on the internet, researching what women can go through during pregnancy, which ranges from mild depression, to really freaky things, like eating dirt.

  After reading over the section on when to seek medical attention, I decided Tori needs to see a doctor. It’s not just her erratic emotional behavior, but her sleeping habits and not taking care of herself. The suggestion of a doctor visit isn’t what’s going to set her off though. It’s her husband arriving in a few hours because I called him and told him everything that should ensure she doesn’t speak to me for a long time.

  I rang his phone a half a dozen times, and with each call it went straight to voicemail. The phone was obviously shut off or the battery was dead. I finally phoned Gabe and found out Brady came down with the flu last week and spent three days heavily medicated with an IV.

  When he came to, he had some kind of vocal hemorrhage, and their manager isn’t allowing him to talk. The same manager who was supposed to fill Tori in on the situation and evidently send flowers daily until Brady could phone her. His manager is looking for a new job after Gabe took his phone into Brady’s room so I could explain that his wife needs him.

  They have six shows on the East Coast in ten days. He wasn’t sure he could get away until I told him what happened last night. Six shows have now been cancelled and he’s coming home.

  The woman in the kitchen is not the same one I left last night or the one I’ve spent a lot of time with the last few weeks. She’s happy and smiling, and as I glance around the room, I know why. There are a lot of roses, like they had to deplete several florists inventory to the fill the order, a lot of roses.

  She runs to me and throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she squeals. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Her gaze falls to my hand covered in gauze, mostly to hide the menacing appearance of the stitches. “Oh, my God, what happened to your hand?”

  “It’s nothing,” I say nonchalantly. “You should see the other guy.” Her eyes widen and her mouth opens. “I’m kidding. I may have been pissed and punched a window.”

  “Jesus, Tug! Are you all right? Do want some ice?”

  “No. I’m fine and I don’t want to talk about it. I take it you heard from Brady?”

  Her features soften slightly. “You know I did.”

  “Good. I’m happy for you.”

  “Tug, what happened last night … what I said … I.”

  “You don’t have to explain. I know you love Brady, but for the record, I choose Maria. I fucking love her, Tor. I can’t be here for you all the time. It’s not fair to her.”

  She nods her understanding. “Does that mean she forgave you?”

  “Oh, no. She’s furious with me and staying at Liv’s place this weekend.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I shrug. “We’ll work it out. I’m more concerned about you. You need to talk to your doctor. I think you’re depressed again, maybe even a little manic.”

  She looks truly offended, but I’ve seen this look before, and I’m not letting it go.

  “What are you talking about? I just missed my husband, but I’m fine now. I couldn’t be happier actually.”

  “Yeah, now, but what happens when he leaves again. What happens when you’re alone and you have no one to talk to? I know the high feels incredible, but you’re going to come down eventually.”

  She leans back against the counter. “I’m fine, really, and I hope you didn’t share your opinion with Brady.”

  “I did. I told him everything.”

  Her eyes go wide as she stands tall. “What do you mean by everything?”

  “All of it. He needed to understand how serious this is with you. And you can hate me if you want, but I won’t let anything happen to you, even if it means breaking your trust.”

  Her turning her back on me hurts, but I made the right decision. “How could you do that?”

  “You need help.”

  She spins around, anger flashing in her eyes. “I do not. I’m not crazy.”

  I grab onto her. “Hey, I don’t think you’re crazy, but something is going on with you. You tried to kiss me twice … twice. Jesus, Tor, you said you wanted to be with me. Ask yourself in your happy, lovesick for your husband state, if you meant it. If you’d be angry with yourself if it happened?”

  Her head falls to my chest, and I pet her hair.

  “Oh, God! You’re right. I don’t want to feel like this, but I don’t want Brady to feel as though he has to put his career on hold to be home with his psycho pregnant wife. It’s not fair to him.”

  I let go of her and lift her chin. “I think it’s time for you to consider what’s best for the baby, and that’s getting through this pregnancy without making any life altering mistakes.”

  Her arms wrap back around my waist. “I love you, Tuggy.”

  By late Sunday night, I still haven’t heard from Maria, and I’m growing more anxious with each tick of the clock. Liv and Harrison should be back from camping, which means Maria would be here by now, if she was coming. Maybe she needed more time. I decide to call Liv just to see how Maria’s doing.

  “Hey, little brother. How’s things?”

  “Not so good as I’m sure you’re aware. How is she?”

  “How’s who?”

  “Maria. Is she still upset? Is she still there?”

  “Maria isn’t here and why would she be upset?”

  Reality is sl
owly sinking in, but I’m desperately hoping I’m wrong. Although it’s a long shot, I ask, “Did she leave already?”

  “Tug, Maria hasn’t been here. She came by the campground early Saturday morning and picked up Javier. Said she forget he had a birthday party or something. Is everything okay?”

  “She’s gone,” I say, ending the call.

  I dial Maria’s number, greeted by a recording that notifies me the number is no longer in service.

  She left me.

  Where would she go? She has to know I won’t give up. I’ll find her. Unless she went to the one place I can’t get to her because it’s a heavily guarded fortress, ruled by a man with more power than God.

  I dial Alejandro Torrente’s number.

  “Mr. Hunter,” he answers, his voice low and controlled.

  I know the answer, but I ask anyway, “Is she there?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I speak with her?”

  “No.”

  Without ending the call, I chuck my phone across the room and drop to the floor on my knees. That’s fucking irony. I helped Maria mend a broken relationship with a man who will ensure I never see her again.

  I’d cry, but I’m too pissed. How the fuck did I let this happen?

  For weeks, I assumed Maria would understand, like somehow she’d be okay with me putting her and Javier’s needs second to Tori’s. It’s the broken promise that finally made her realize I never deserved her. This is precisely why I never make promises. I’m incapable of keeping them.

  She made a promise, also. She promised we would talk if I gave her a couple of days and I did that, and she broke her promise as easily as I broke mine. Because promises don’t mean anything in life without the commitment to follow through, which neither of us had, but justified equally.

  The room narrows as I stare at the wall and then it hits me.

  The hustle.