Chasing Fire: (Fire and Fury Book One)

by Avery Kingston

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Have you been here since…”

  “Nah, not yet,” she said awkwardly. “I still suck at braille.” She snarled her nose.

  “Practice makes perfect. Come here.” He led her over to it and placed her hand on the sculpture. “Have a look.”

  Tori ran her fingers across the etched designs and the raised dots. Her face heated, knowing Scott was watching her be very much the blind person. This is how she saw the world now. Why should she be ashamed of it? Her mind flashed to the day in the hospital where Scott didn’t want her to see him get out of bed. This is Scott. She sucked in a breath, got over herself, and took it all in the only way she could.

  “I finally understand why blind people were so pissed about this memorial!” she exclaimed while examining it. “The spacing on the letters is all off, and far too large to make it readable.” She ran her palms over it again and again, taking it in a whole new way. She started thinking about what she would do if she oversaw a tactile exhibit for the blind and what she would include. She raised her hands higher to reach the markings. “I mean, some of it’s way too high. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Because you’re short. What are you, like five-four?” Scott chuckled.

  “I’m five-five and a quarter, thank you very much. Everyone’s short compared to you!” Scott stood well over six feet tall. “Seriously, though, no child could ever reach this,” she ranted. “If I was in charge of this, I would’ve consulted someone who was visually impaired. It’s obvious they didn’t even bother.” She shook her head and let out a big sigh.

  “Then make them.”

  Tori snorted. “Yeah, right. I’ll go lobby for them to reconstruct the entire memorial.”

  “You know what I mean.” He chuckled. “I love how fiery and full of passion you are. Look at you.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he watched her. “You need to go back to work, Tori,” he urged. “I think you know exactly how they could use you. You may have lost your sight, but you haven’t lost your vision one bit.”

  That night, Tori lay next to him, listening to the sound of his breath rise and fall against the faint backdrop of the city still not sleeping. Scott’s words echoed in her head. You and Donaghue make no sense.

  He said that as if her and Scott made sense. But he was always gone. That’s why her and Scott could never work.

  She leaned over and let her bare breasts graze the skin on his back, wrapping her arms around his muscular frame. She could feel that ever-familiar ache in her chest that would creep in every time he was about to leave. Keeping the misery of him leaving at bay was much more challenging this time. Her heart longed to stay here, wrapped in his warmth and security. The last several months had been dark and foreign, every step clouded with uncertainty.

  What if we could make sense?

  Scott seemed like the only thing in her life that made any sense.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered as a tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Hmmmm?” he mumbled, half asleep.

  Her mind flashed with images of her dad running into their burning house never to return. Her outstretched, little arms screaming for him as the neighbors held her back. Her daddy, always the hero—gone forever—and her heart barely stitched together from that loss.

  She thought of the reality of her and Scott together. Her sitting at home, anxiously waiting for him to return from God knows where, only to hear the sickening dread of a strangers knock at the door. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harris, to inform you…”

  No. That’s exactly why she couldn’t do more. That pain would be her undoing. She’d never ask him to give up his career for her. He was far too good at what he did. The world needed his saving more than she did. “Nothing.” She kissed his shoulder and swallowed the lump in her throat.

  He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and placed it on his large chest, then his breathing went back to the heavy rhythm of his sleep. She buried her head into his shoulder, soaking up the last precious moments with him. She made sure before she climbed into bed to tuck a pair of panties into the back pocket of his pants like she did every time they were going to be apart.

  After Scott left town, Tori bit the bullet and called her director at the museum, pitching the idea she could work at the Institution as an accessibility consultant. Her director was willing to give it a try.

  Tori’s first job was to tackle assisting in a summer festival for the blind visitors. This was a huge event, and she was coming in on the back end of the planning, so she had a lot of ground to cover.

  Work was strange. Her colleagues lived and breathed in the art world, and Tori’s presence was a constant, fearful reminder that everything could be stripped away in an instant.

  She made it through the first week. The awkwardness subsided, and she no longer felt like the elephant in the room. Friday rolled around, and that was the day slotted for people with special needs. Tori took the tour along with a group to gather feedback for next year.

  Tori followed along, hanging toward the back of the crowd, listening.

  Footsteps neared her, “Hello, Victoria.” That ever-familiar, poetic British accent. She would recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Chase.” She smiled. “I didn’t expect you here today! How are you?”

  “Just smashing, Victoria.” Her name rolled off his tongue musically. Chase stroked his hand down her arm. She leaned in and gave him a warm embrace. She breathed in his familiar scent of black leather and patchouli, covered with a layer of his cigarette smoke. She hated smoking, but with Chase, the smell mixed with his cologne worked for her in an odd way. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Doing well?”

  “I am.” She kept her voice to a low whisper as they walked together. “Back to work now, obviously.” Her cane scraped along the gravel pathway.

  “That’s fantastic. Although, I must say I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t accept our job offer at the school.” He sighed warily. “But I understand the Smithsonian is a bit more prestigious.”

  “Well…one night, it came to me what I wanted to do.” She regaled Chase about her visit with Scott at the FDR exhibit. Looking back on it, she was sure Scott took her there deliberately for that reason. Everything that man did was calculated.

  And she couldn’t get him out of her head since his last visit.

  Scott isn’t here, and God only knows when he will be back again.

  “That sounds wonderful.” An awkward silence hung between the two of them, as it always did ever since that night they kissed.

  Tori figured she may as well address it. “So, you realize I’m no longer your student. I believe we have some unfinished business,” she said with half a tease in her voice. Tori, what on earth are you doing?

  He chuckled. “Do we?”

  Tori had rules. She never invited men to her place, but going to Baltimore now that she was blind bordered on lunacy. Hell, I’m up for a good challenge. She had, after all, flown to Atlanta and back by herself as part of her graduation requirement from rehab. A train ride to Maryland was nothing.

  “How about I take the train back with the class tonight? I can sit with them and do a focus meeting on how their experience was today, then afterwards, you and I can catch up properly.” She stroked his arm and licked her top lip.

  Chase cleared his throat. “I think that could be arranged.”

  “Vicky, you have a gentleman caller,” Keith said as he came in her office. “And Oh. My. God,” he continued on with a heavy sigh and his bottom plopped on the edge of her desk. “He is absolutely tasty, and that accent is to die for.”

  Tori stood and reached for her cane. “No fair to tease me with that information when I can’t see him. I’m solely basing this on personality.” She lifted her jaw in declaration. This was the first man she was attracted to that she didn’t judge first by physical attractiveness. It was Chase’s smooth, sexy accent that made her weak in the knees.

  “If you could see my face, it would sa
y ‘oh really,’” Keith teased. “I’m not buying that for one second.”

  She’d be lying if she weren’t still vain enough to care what her arm candy for the evening looked like. “Ok, you’re right. I need to know. Spill it.”

  “It’s unfair you can’t see him.” He put his arm around Tori, lowered his voice to a whisper, and leaned in close to her. Tori could imagine Keith’s blue eyes sparking as he spilled the beans. “Imagine hipster Brad Pitt but furrier face, long beard, with striking, blue eyes and a face carved by God himself. Decent body, takes care of himself. Not overly muscular—I know you have a thing for those types.” Keith nudged her playfully. “He’s no Scott, but he’s in shape.”

  No, he wasn’t.

  “He sounds great.” Tori sucked in a breath.

  “He is. Someone could be a troll, and it wouldn’t matter one bit to you. You have the wonderful ability now to solely base attraction off personality. It’s a rare trait. Save the good-looking ones for the rest of us that have sight.” He slapped her on the arm playfully.

  She adored Keith. He never skirted around her being blind. In fact, he constantly made fun of her for it. Somehow, it made it easier.

  “You know he’s straight, right?”

  “Honey, I could turn him.” Keith cackled. “Ok, maybe not, but I’d sure as hell have fun trying. “Where are you all headed to?”

  “Baltimore,” Tori said nonchalantly.

  “You’re going to Baltimore? You. Blind. Alone. Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Keith hissed.

  “Keith,” Tori insisted, “I can handle this, and you know I don’t let guys in my place.” Well, except Scott. Scott was always the exception to her rules.

  “Fine. Go home with a stranger who’s into blind chicks, let him tie you up in his basement and keep you as his sex slave.”

  Tori groaned. “He was my O&M instructor…”

  “Exactly my point. He’s totally into blind chicks!”

  “I trust him. He won’t let anything happen to me.”

  “Fine,” Keith relented. “At least send me the address so I know where to go looking for your body if you don’t turn up in the morning.”

  Tori snickered as she reached for Keith, giving him a big hug. “I’ll be ok. How do I look?” She opened her drawer and groped inside for a small toiletry bag that had a few essentials in it.

  “Stunning as always, my dear. You lucky bitch.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Girl, you have an emergency sex bag at your desk?” he asked as she dropped it in her purse.

  “Um…” Tori’s cheeks grew hot. She’d found herself in this situation more than once, so she learned to plan ahead.

  “Once a ho, always a ho. I’m telling you, Dirty Little Blind Ho would be a great blog.” Keith snickered.

  Tori threw her head back and lost it laughing. God, Keith was the best. “I’ll consider it,” she said as she caught her breath.

  “Call me with details, girl.”

  Tori giggled, walked out, and closed her door behind her.

  “What’s so funny?” Chase asked, taking note of the stupid grin plastered on her face.

  “You passed the best friend test. You got the stamp of approval.” She snickered. “He wanted to give you much more,” she teased.

  He let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing for you that I don’t fancy men.”

  “Hey, not much is off the table for me,” she joked. “Shall we?”

  “Absolutely.” She grabbed his elbow and let him lead the way.

  They ate at a small pizza place around the corner from his loft across from Lexington Market. Tori learned over dinner that he’d recently moved from London for the job, that he had two sisters and happily married parents who, in fact, were both blind. His career choice seemed much more understandable when she found that out. He didn’t own a car, which didn’t surprise her. Living on the east coast, not many people drove. What did surprise her was why he didn’t.

  “RP, early stages,” Chase informed. “Bad genes, I suppose.” Retinitis Pigmentosa, or RP, as most referred to it, was an inherited disease that caused retinal degeneration.

  His whole speech to her months ago made much more sense. Imagine knowing it’s coming for you, and each day, you see a little less than before. Her heart broke.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  “Because the last thing you needed during that transition was to feel bad for me. You had to mourn your own loss.”

  They arrived at his loft soon after. “It’s a beautiful, old, historic building that has been refurbished,” he explained to her as they entered. It still had the old-fashioned grate-style “lift” as he called it, which he said gave it architectural charm he appreciated. Tori made sure to keep the direction in her memory for her exit strategy tomorrow morning. Suddenly, panic washed over her.

  What are you doing? She felt the urge to bail, but there was no backing out now.

  “Here we are. My flat, 5B.” He took her hand gently and rubbed it across the brass numbers on the door. His keys jingled in the lock, and the door clicked open. “Loo is to your immediate right, winding, metal staircase to your left that leads to the loft sleeping area, and straight through, you have my kitchen then living area. I’ll let your get your bearings while I pour us some wine.”

  Tori’s cane glided across the concrete floor finding the doorjamb on her right to what he told her was the bathroom. She continued on until her cane hit the stairs on the left side, the sound of the metal clanking through his apartment. She reached up and felt the cold iron railing curling upwards to the loft. She could tell the room opened to a higher celling in the kitchen and living due to the echo her cane made on the concrete flooring. She walked around, mapping the room from one corner to the next, taking in the texture of the exposed brick walls and sleek leather furniture. She sat her purse down on his sofa as she passed it.

  Her cane wacked a large object. She gave it a double tap. Reaching out, she rubbed her hand across the wood. Piano? She let her fingers dance across the ivory keys, playing a few notes that echoed loud in the quiet loft.

  “You play?” she asked.

  “Yes.” His footsteps grew close, and he put his hand on her waist, placing the glass of wine in her hand. “Music was important in my family growing up, obviously.” She let the aroma of the wine fill her nostrils. Red, oaky, and slightly smoky with a hint of berry. The bench of the piano slid on the concrete floor. “Sit.” He guided her down.

  She sat and slid her cane under the piano bench as he started playing. She recognized the Hozier song as he sang it to her. The chords were deep and brooding, and his voice mimicked the original, bluesy gospel style perfectly. She was hypnotized by the beauty of it. She allowed the emotion of the music, the taste of the wine, the smell of his skin, and the entire sultry moment to wash over her. Her unease faded.

  Chase was taking his time seducing her, and she hadn’t expected that. Rarely did men ever do that with her.

  Tori put the wine on top of the piano. Leaning in, she brushed his hair to the side and kissed his neck, running her fingers up and down his back. Her other rubbed along the inside of his thigh leading to the bulge in his pants. The music stopped, he turned, held her face in his hands, and planted his soft lips to hers.

  The warm sunlight heated her skin, waking her from slumber. The bed was empty next to her. She quickly stood and ran her hands across the concrete floor, searching for where she dropped her bra and underwear. She cringed, realizing her clothes were strewn about his house and her cane was downstairs. So much for making an easy and smooth exit. Things were not like they used to be, where she could sneak out quietly and continue her walk of shame home.

  “Good morning, Victoria.” Chase’s voice caused her to jolt.

  “You scared the shit out of me!” Tori placed her hand on her chest and took a breath.

  He chuckled. “Sorry.” There was a flick of a lighter as he lit his cigarette, followed by an e
xhale. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” How long had he been watching? She didn’t know whether to find it endearing or creepy.

  “All your clothing is on the chair to your right. I gathered it for you. Cane is next to the wall.” At least he knew to put everything in one place.

  “Thanks.” The smell of the cigarette smoke wafted through the room, and she fought the urge to gag. She didn’t mind the after smell but being right next to it was awful.

  “Come to the kitchen when you’re dressed, and I’ll get you some tea.” His footsteps echoed down the metal staircase.

  Tea? Bleh. He really was British to the core.

  Tori dressed and went downstairs. They chatted over a cup of shitty tea, then he walked her to the train station. He asked for her to stay the day with him, but Tori was never one for sticking around afterward. The sex was good—in fact, it was great. He was an ok guy, but it all was unfamiliar. When their bodies were intertwined, she still felt such a distance between them. She couldn’t picture him in her head. All she could see was Scott, and it was driving her mad. She hoped Chase would push him out of her head, but it proved to be the opposite.

  All she could think about on her train ride back to DC was Scott Harris.

  Tori listened to the second voicemail that week from Chase. They’d spoken a few times in the weeks since their night, but she’d been too busy with work. At least, that’s what she told him.

  You’re thirty and blind, and your options are becoming more limited. Chase is a good guy and wants you. Maybe she should give him a chance.

  Footsteps into her office broke her train of thought.

  “Yes Darlene?” Tori could smell Darlene’s overpowering floral perfume from a mile away.

  “It still freaks me out you can do that.” Darlene breathed heavy. “Your next interview, Alexander Robinson, is here.” Tori had been reviewing candidates for an intern. “Oh, and one quick question…” She lowered her voice. “Do you have any feminine items? I’m kinda having a period emergency here,” she asked awkwardly.