Chapter 30
Felix
I didn’t see driving a motorcycle for the first time ever in the tea leaves for this evening, but I refuse to let Torren drive. He was stubborn, but eventually relented because he knew he shouldn’t drive, too.
Fortunately, that isn’t necessary. We finally arrive at Torren’s shop, and he clicks the button for the garage. We hop off, and I wheel it inside before closing the garage door again. The lights are bright, and I can see just how wrecked Torren looks.
I don’t know what happened, and he won’t tell me anything, but I’m not going anywhere.
“Come on.” I lead him upstairs, and he follows in a daze. Once we’re in his room, his gaze turns to me, and my heart almost shatters at the lost expression on his face.
I wrap my hand around his waist and lead him to bed. Once he’s sitting, I untie his boots and fall on my ass trying to pull them off.
Smooth, Felix.
I help him lie down, then drape the sheets over him. “What do you need? Want some water or anything?”
Torren just looks up at the ceiling, his eyes glassy and vacant. He has to be thirsty, so I rise to fetch some water, but he grabs my wrist. “Please. Don’t go.”
He looks so scared. Jesus, I’d do anything to take the pain away. “I’m not going anywhere. I was just going to get you a glass of water.”
Torren’s eyes never leave mine, and his hand doesn’t let go. “Come right back?” he asks.
I lean forward and kiss his forehead. “Absolutely. I promise.”
He reluctantly lets go, and I hurry to the bathroom and fill a glass with some water. Once I return, I set it on the table next to him, kick off my shoes, and jump into bed, pulling him closer and letting him rest his head on me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I kiss his temple and speak softly in his ear. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” he asks.
I hold him with as much care as possible and whisper, “Promise.”
We sit like that for a bit—neither of us saying a word. I know he isn’t asleep, because his eyes are wide open, but they still look vacant.
“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
Torren shudders and clenches his hand onto my sweater. He makes a little sound, seeming like he might say something, but sighs instead, shaking his head. “Or we can just lie here,” I add. “You can rest on me all night.”
The hand that was clutching my sweater slowly makes its way to my hand, and he threads our fingers together. “I like option B.”
I smile. It’s a sad smile, but the little joke lets me know he’s still in there—just really hurt right now. “That’s fine.”
The fingers of my free hand comb through his black hair until he finally falls asleep.
I must have fallen asleep too, because when I woke up, it’s morning, and Torren is gone.
Torren
The sun hides behind a cloud, only a few rays of sunshine sneaking past, painting streaks of light on the rolling hills in the distance.
I come up on the roof at night sometimes when I can’t sleep, usually after having too many beers to go driving, but not enough to finally pass out.
The air is cool, and the faint outline of the moon still hangs in the sky.
I’ve been up here for hours, trying to figure out how to explain last night to Felix.
The sound of the door opening and Felix calling my name at street level pulls me out of my thoughts. I walk to the edge of the roof and look over. “Felix?” I call down.
He looks up, rubbing his hands on his arms to keep warm. “Torren? God, you scared me! I didn’t know where you were.”
Felix’s rosy cheeks and delicate arms make me happy even in the darkest moments. “Sorry,” I reply, ashamed that I’ve caused him even more distress.
“It’s okay,” he assures me, then asks, “M-May I come up?”
I guess now’s as good a time as any.
“Yeah, there’s a ladder in the far corner of the bathroom. I’ll meet you at the latch.”
He nods, then rushes back inside, closing the door behind him.
Here we go.
The sound of feet climbing the metal ladder, a few minutes later, is my signal to open the latch. His green eyes blink at me as they adjust to the change in light. The sun’s a little brighter now.
I help him onto the roof, and he asks, “Are you okay?”
An exasperated laugh escapes me. “No. Not really.”
Felix furrows his brows with concern. “What can I do?” he asks.
I motion for him to follow me and lead us to a spot on the roof in the sun where we can sit down. “I have some things I want to tell you.”
Felix looks nervous, but nods. I’ve never told anyone what I’m about to tell Felix. The only one who knows is Tobias.
I don’t know why, but I feel like I can tell Felix.
“Last night…something you said made me think about things I try not to think about.” I look over, and his eyes are sad, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip like he’s in trouble.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was totally innocent, but it sent me back to a time that I try to forget.
” My eyes look out onto the horizon, a beam of sunlight illuminating an evergreen—its hue resembling the green of Felix’s eyes.
I take a deep breath and continue. “My life was really…hard…with my adoptive parents.”
Felix
Torren doesn’t look at me as he speaks. He just tells me…everything. The joy he felt when he was finally adopted, the cruelty of his adoptive parents, the relationship he developed with Tobias that helped him survive, and the men who abused him.
“We didn’t always have them all in one place. Usually, they’d call my foster parents and make a “reservation” with either Tobias or me. Or both of us. We’d know a client was coming because they’d take us to the basement—”
Tears pool at the base of his eyes, but he shakes off the emotion and continues, keeping his eyes locked forward. “There was a bed, and we just had to wait for the client to come. Whatever he wanted to do…we did it.”
I want to hold his hand or wrap my arms around him, but I don’t know if that’s okay.
“One night…they took me downstairs, and I waited, but it wasn’t a client who wanted me. It was Paul Kay. We had to call him Mr. Kay, because he—”
His eyes close, neck bobbing as he swallows. “It doesn’t matter why, but he was the worst of them all. I must have been screaming or something, because Tobias snuck down with a knife and stabbed him in the back. Then he tossed me a knife and I just—”
This time, the tears do fall, staining his cheeks. “I just couldn’t stop myself. Then, Mrs. Kay came down, screaming and cursing, and we did it to her, too. It was like…once we’d let it out, we couldn’t lock it back in.”
Torren’s breathing intensifies, a wheezing sound lacing his exhalation.
“I was in shock, I think, but Tobias sprang into action. He dragged them into their walk-in freezer, then smashed their safe with a sledgehammer. They did nothing digitally. It was all phone calls, but everything was spoken in code. Tobias wanted to find everyone’s contact numbers, but he found much more.
The Kays kept addresses, numbers, names…
all of it neatly handwritten in an old-fashioned Rolodex.
I don’t know why those men would give the Kays that much information. I guess they’d do anything for—”
His voice trails off. “Can I walk? I need to…I don’t know. Move?”
“Of course.”
Torren stands up and paces back and forth.
“Tobias had it all planned. I said we should call the cops, but he didn’t want to.
He didn’t trust the police. I didn’t blame him—when you grow up in the system, you get used to adults disappointing you.
He said we needed to do it—for other kids like us, and I believed him.
” He stops for a moment. “This isn’t Tobias’s fault.
That’s not what I’m saying. We both did it. Both of us. I’m not blaming him, okay?”
I frantically nod, trying to be supportive without being overbearing.
Torren nods, then continues in a rush. “He sent out invitations, everything written in code, but basically describing a show that the two of us would put on—”
Torren closes his eyes, his chest rising and falling, and his fists clenched as his pacing slows.
“The night came. Tobias had liquor laced with the sedatives that Mrs. Kay popped like candy, set up on tables in the basement. They arrived one by one.” He stops, gripping his hair and releasing a frustrated grunt.
“You should have seen them. They looked wild—practically salivating, they were so excited. They couldn’t fucking wait—” he stops once more, rubbing his eyes.
“They all drank the liquor and were completely out of it by the time we walked downstairs together. They could barely stand, let alone put up a fight.”
Then he stops. His body sagging as he lowers to a crouching position, using his hands to brace himself against the roof. “We chose blades. We chose what would create the most carnage because we reveled in it.” Tears fill his eyes when he looks at me. “We killed them all, Felix. I’m a monster.”
I don’t even hesitate. “No.” My voice has an edge to it because I refuse to let him think that. I rise, rushing toward him, and crouch beside him. “You are not a monster, Torren. They are. They hurt you and Tobias, and they would have hurt others.”
Torren looks up at me, his face a mix of shock and something else. Relief maybe? “That’s what Tobias said. That they’d hurt other kids.”
“He was right. Those men…they deserved what they got.”
True relief washes over Torren’s face for a fraction of a second before it twists into a look of anguish. “But I didn’t do it just because of that. I wanted to do it, Felix. I enjoyed it, and now look at me. I hurt you!”
His voice rises on the last sentence, bordering on a scream, so I wrap my arms around him. “Torren, you can’t carry what happened at the Kitty Cat Club anymore. Let it go. Please.”
He falls to his knees, leaning his body on mine, and I rub his back. “You were a child, Torren; a child that they abused because they’re repulsive pigs who got what they deserved. Who knows how many children you saved? You are not a monster. You felt trapped…”
Torren looks up at me with two vulnerable brown eyes, glistening with tears. “You’re not scared of me?”
His voice is smaller than I’ve ever heard it. I caress his face, hoping that the conviction in my voice will assure him that I’m being honest. “No. I’m not scared of you, Torren.”
Torren closes his eyes, the tears streaming continuously now, and rests his head on my chest. His soft whimpers evolve, and he begins mumbling my name over and over again.
“What is it?” I ask him. “What do you need?”
As I say it, I pull back to look at him, resting a hand over his heart. Torren’s breath hitches, and he clutches my hand, pressing it harder to his chest.
Our eyes meet, and the sadness I see in his eyes makes me want to wrap him in my arms and protect him.
So I do.
I pull him closer and let him cry, rubbing the back of his head and kissing his temple.
And as I cradle him, I begin to realize something. The feelings I have no longer match what initially drew me to him. That obsessive tug-of-war we had, and the excitement I felt during our early interactions, are gone.
I feel something else—something much stronger.
I think I’m in love with this man.