Thirty
I t was all coming crashing down on me, and I couldn’t fight it. I was breaking apart like some kind of pussy, but at least it was only my fucking woman witnessing my pathetic breakdown, right? It wasn’t like I needed her to love and rely on me, and see me as a fucking man.
Grace was hugging me from behind, her arms tight enough to fucking catch me if I fell, but what kind of man would I be if I did that? If I just fucking let her hold me, while I cried like a pussy.
“It’s okay, Torch. You can let it out with me.”
I pulled free of her, heading back to the bed, because at least someone might not fucking hear me from there. My breaths were heaving in my chest, each one sounded more ragged than the last, and I couldn’t hold it back.
“Torch?” Grace had stayed by the door, naked, her arms around herself now, and looking lost and abandoned. I hadn’t meant to leave her there, but I’d felt the urge to run before I showed this much weakness to anyone. I reached out a hand to her, and she ran in my direction, landing on me as she wrapped her arms around me.
“I know you’re used to being strong, and that’s okay, but if you let out your pain, it doesn’t make you weak, Torch. If you don’t let it out, it’ll just hurt you more.”
“I… I can’t,” I gasped, fighting so hard to keep it all in, because I just can’t fucking do this. I couldn’t break like this, even if she said it was okay, it really wasn’t.
“You’ll do as you’re damn well told, Mr North. As your doctor, I demand it.” That fucking imperious tone of hers, I swear, it’s fucking heaven-sent. I snorted, and she shook her head.
“Honestly, stop holding back, Torch, you’ll do yourself more harm, and we need you to be strong enough to handle what’s happening. Micro is your friend, your brother, of course this is destroying you. Maybe you can’t show them what it’s doing to you, or him, but you can show me. I love you, dammit.” Don’t keep fucking being nice. I’m losing my shit already.
I buried my face in her hair right as the first ragged sob burst out of my chest, and I tried to choke it back, and prevent any more from escaping, but I was just fucking lost. Micro. How the fuck could it be him? Of everyone here, I never suspected him, never thought he could do something like this, not to other brothers, and certainly not to me. How the fuck could he stick a knife in my fucking back, and then look me in the eye after, and pretend like it didn’t happen?
My grief came out like a roar of fury, and I shoved Grace away from me before I could risk hurting her. I made it halfway across the room, and grabbed the first thing I saw and picked it up, tossing it across the other end of the room with a crash. There goes a fucking chair, and the cupboard it just crashed into.
It wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. How could I ever fucking deal with this betrayal, this fucking crushing weight on my chest, because I should have fucking known. I should have seen it. I was around him the most, so how the fuck didn’t I see who he was, and what he was capable of?
I grabbed the drawer unit my clothes lived in, and upended it, my eyes blurred with tears, and my mind fucking infused with rage.
“Torch! Oh god, Torch, stop!” Grace jumped in front of me, just as I picked up another chair, and I barely missed her with it as I threw it.
“Fuck’s sake, woman!” I grabbed her and threw her on the bed, and that was when it hit me. She wasn’t the target of this rage. Nothing in my room was. No, that fucker was sitting downstairs in a chair right now, tied, trapped, and fucking waiting for death. Well, the wait was over, because none of this was helping, but seeing him die just might be what I needed to clear this pain from my fucking soul.
That was what I needed to do. Take this fight back to Micro, and when I was done, one of us would be dead, and the other? Probably fucked up beyond repair. I slid into a pair of jeans and stepped into my boots, with one mission on my mind. Kill Micro.
“Torch! Dammit, Torch, what are you doing?!” Grace was practically screaming at me, as she started pulling at my arm, and trying to grab my attention, but it didn’t belong on her, not while I was this focused on murder. I needed her away from me when I was like this. I needed her safe.
I pulled free of her, and grabbed my torture bag, hefting it onto my shoulder, as I dragged the back of my arm across my eyes, because it helps to see when you’re going killing.
As I opened my bedroom door, with Grace yelling at me to stop, I came face to face with someone I didn’t expect.
Grace
H e was beyond listening to me, and I was starting to panic, because he was suddenly so intensely focused on something that I couldn’t see, and I had a feeling it wasn’t in this room at all. I wasn’t sure whether to call someone again, and risk telling tales on my man again, or whether to follow him and try to stop him, or whatever.
It turned out to be completely unnecessary, because there were two men waiting outside our door, and they pushed their way in, closing and locking the door, while Torch swore furiously at them.
“Hey, Grace, you wanna put some clothes on, darlin’?” Ryder suggested gently, while he and Has-Been kept their eyes averted respectfully. Dammit! How did I forget I was naked?
My focus had been purely and completely on my man, as he fragmented in front of me, as he imploded under the weight of all the betrayal and guilt.
“Doing a little reorganising, man?” Has-Been gestured around the room, as Ryder snatched the bag from Torch, and shoved it behind him.
“Fuck off, I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what? Is your old lady okay? Is that blood on her face?” Oh god, is it? I reached up to check my cheek, and sure enough my fingers were coming back bloody. When did I cut my face, and on what? I knew I’d banged my elbow when I landed back on the bed, too close to the wall, so was it then?
Torch froze, his head swivelling rapidly in my direction.
“What? She’s hurt?” He still looked like he was about to fall apart, while simultaneously destroying the world, but it started to bleed away as he moved in my direction, concern overwriting his expression.
“Fuck. Did I do this to you? Did I fucking hurt you?”
I got back up off the bed, smoothing down the t-shirt I’d hurriedly pulled on to hide my nudity, even though both of his brothers had already had quite the eyeful, when they walked in.
“You didn’t hurt me, Torch, it’s okay.”
He dropped to his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around my legs as I stood up.
“Fucking hell, I’m no better than him, I’m so sorry, baby.” This time he didn’t fight it, breaking down, as he held on to me, and finally releasing my legs, so I could drop down onto my knees beside him, and hold him. His brothers stayed in the room, one tidying up the mess he’d made, while the other made coffee. Huge wrenching sobs tore out of Torch, before he started to curse again, rubbing at his eyes, as he pulled back.
“Look at me, what a fucking mess. You two have better shit to do than be here,” he said gruffly to his brothers, as they approached us in our position on the floor by the bed. Torch had ended up sitting back against the bed with me pretty much in his lap, and that’s where I stayed, even as Ryder handed drinks to us, and sat on the bed, while Has-Been dragged a chair over from the small foldout dining table.
“Talk, brother. We’re going nowhere until you do.”
Torch groaned, wrapping his hands around his mug, resting it precariously on his own knee, while his arms were looped around me.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. I just lost it for a minute, but it’s… I’m fine.”
I sighed, reaching up to stroke his cheek.
“You know, when women say we’re fine, we don’t mean it either. It’s okay to have feelings about what’s happened, Torch, and to let them out before they crush you.”
Has-Been cleared his throat, and we both turned our attention to him.
“If anyone knows about bottling shit up, and using other methods to fight that emotion, it’s me. Trust me, letting it out now, instead of letting it eat you up for fucking months, is the best damn way. You think we haven’t all had our moments over this? And over what that bastard did to our old ladies, and us? I know you’re closer to him than many of us, but we’re all hurting, man.”
Torch groaned, pressing his face in my hair.
“Can you make them go away, babe, I’m not into talking about my feelings with them.”
Ryder laughed humourlessly.
“Brother, we’ve all done it to you, and you know it. This is fucking insane, what’s happening now, and I know we’re all rethinking every fucking moment with him. How did none of us see it? How is it that I hung with that fucker, and shot the shit with him, and I never saw a hint of this animosity, or hatred? How is it that all the while I thought he was a friend, someone I could rely on, he was attacking people I care about, killing them even.”
“Chrissy,” Has-Been said quietly, shaking his head. “She was too fucking sweet to die like that.” Chrissy? Who the hell was that? Another old lady?
Ryder sighed heavily, looking as sad as his brother. She must have been really important to them all.
“Who was she? Someone’s old lady?” They all stared at me for a moment, maybe realising that I had no idea who they were talking about, or maybe even having forgotten I was here, while they were all baring their souls.
“I don’t want to call her a club girl, because she was more than that, at least with the two of us,” Has-Been said quietly, but I caught two words there that I didn’t really like the sound of. Club girl .