Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
WRENLEY
W hen Raya and I heard Death’s car pull in, we’d been sitting on the couch with a hot chocolate that Gun had made. I quickly placed the mug on the coffee table and kneeled on the furniture to look out the window. My pulse spiked when I saw Torch sitting in the passenger seat.
I twisted to Raya, grabbed her hand, and begged, “Can you get Torch in here? I want to apologize. Please .”
Her other hand lay over mine, and she squeezed. “Okay, honey. I’ll go ask.”
While waiting, I paced the living room.
Would he come in, or would he think I blamed him for everything and not want to see me?
I hoped he would come.
I needed to see him.
Now that I’d had more time to register his reaction, it gripped my heart in a way that I felt an urgent need to speak with him.
I wouldn’t blame Torch if he didn’t want to come in here.
Yet, if he didn’t, I’d search him out to explain he wasn’t at fault.
He tried to help me.
How he went about it perhaps wasn’t ideal, but he’d gone out of his way to see if he could fix a problem of mine that he didn’t even understand.
I pressed a hand to my fluttery stomach.
His fierce reaction showed me he cared.
The door opened, and I jolted as my heart skipped a beat. Turning, I watched Raya enter first, followed by Death. Licking my dry lips, I played with the hem of my tee and then let out a slow breath when Torch walked through with his gaze on the floor.
Death reached around him and closed the front door, and Raya shifted out of the way.
“Torch?” I called softly.
His head cocked slightly to the side, eyes up to my waist.
I swallowed thickly from nerves. “I’m sorry?—”
“You have nothin’ to apologize for,” he told me before his gaze shifted toward the door. His hands tapped at the sides of his thighs.
“I do. I don’t like that I yelled at you and blamed you. I know you were just looking out for me. And I’m sorry for… for saying what I did and how I said it.”
His jaw clenched, and he finally looked at me.
I couldn’t read what was in his eyes. They were hard yet soft.
His chin tipped up a little. “No need for sorry.”
Did that mean he wouldn’t accept it?
“Um, okay.” I glanced at Raya, but all she did was shrug. Straightening, I said, “Thank you for looking out for me. That really means a lot.” I took a couple of steps closer, hand reaching out—he shifted back quickly, upper lip lifting.
I stopped, dropped my hand, and tears welled.
He didn’t want me to touch him.
Nodding, I looked away as the tears fell. I thinned my lips, but a whimper escaped.
Was he disgusted by me after finding out the truth?
No. He wouldn’t have acted so distraught for me, right?
I sniffed and wiped at my eyes.
Torch made a noise in the back of his throat, which drew my attention to him in time to see him clutching his head.
“Brother?”
Torch hit his palms against his temples. “I made her cry,” he bit out. He lunged toward the door and grabbed the handle.
“Wait,” I cried.
He stilled.
“Death and Raya, can… um, please, give us a moment.”
Death seemed uncertain, but Raya took his hand and walked them away.
I wiped at my face again. Torch didn’t like seeing me upset. My chest swelled at the thought of his kindness.
“How’s Harley?”
My question appeared to shock him; his hand dropped from the handle, and he faced me. A small tilt to his head followed as he studied me.
“Good.”
“Are the brothers still scared of him?” I asked, smiling slightly.
His lips twitched but straightened out quickly. “Yes.”
Nodding, I glanced back to the couch. “Will you sit with me for a second?”
“Why?”
“So we can talk,” I said.
“No, why would you want me in here?”
I drew my brows down in thought. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Nothin’.”
“So,” I drew out, “will you sit down?”
He rubbed hard at his bottom lip as he glanced from the couch, to me, and back. Then he nodded. I sat down at one end, and he took the other. He hunched over to rest his forearms on his thighs and blinked down at the carpet.
“Torch, do you mind if I ask some questions?”
“No.” He sat so still, I worried he’d turned into a statue, but his chest rose and fell too rapidly to be one.
I didn’t want to just come out and ask him why he’d reacted so strongly at the compound or how he knew something was wrong in the first place. Instead, I jumped in with something easier.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Green.”
“What music do you like?”
“Anythin’.”
“What do you like to eat?”
“Meat.”
Typical man, I thought to myself with an inner laugh.
“Do you work?”
“Escort agency and?—”
A ripple of shock had me tensing. “As an escort?” I blurted. Not that there was anything wrong with that.
He snorted, glanced at me quickly, and then looked away. “Never. Security. At Death’s workplace too.”
“Oh, okay.”
He snorted again, lips twitching before he thinned them.
“What’s funny?”
His hands went together so he could pick at his thumbnail. “You. Thinkin’ I could work there.”
Why did he think he couldn’t? “Why not? You’re a good-looking guy.”
His head jerked back to look at me. “Your cheeks are red again.”
Puffing out a breath, I pressed my hands to them and admitted, “Because I told you you’re good-looking.”
He shook his head, fingers lifting to touch his scars. His hand dropped, and he rubbed both down his thighs. “Doesn’t make sense.”
“What?” I asked.
“This.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
Frustration gripped my throat. It did matter. I wanted to get to know him. I also wanted to figure myself out: how could I be distracted by a man when hours ago I was curled into a ball crying my eyes out?
Torch confused me but left me wanting to know more.
He took my mind off everything, and I didn’t feel embarrassed about him knowing my history. I did get flustered, though, when I admitted he was handsome.
I liked being around him.
His company calmed and comforted me, both in a safe way.
I didn’t understand how either was possible after only briefly meeting him, but I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this protected.
“Torch, why did your brothers do that to you back at the compound?”
He tensed, not even blinking.
“Torch?”
When I tried to reach out again, he stood and shifted away.
My nose stung as tears threatened.
“Sorry, I-I won’t touch you if you don’t like it,” I told him quickly. I would never want him to feel uncomfortable around me.
Another noise dropped from the back of his throat. He fell to his knees and slowly moved his hand my way, brushing his fingers against the top of my hand, which gripped my thigh.
“I’m different. Broken. Messed up.” He pulled his hand away to tap his head. “My past…. Get Death to tell you. I can’t talk about that. It fucks me up too much. I’ll get lost to the thoughts. To the darkness. But never think that I don’t want your touch. I just can’t have it. It’s not for me, and really, you’ll see why when you hear how I am. What I’ve done. What I’ll do to those….” His jaw clenched. “You need better in your life.” He was on his feet and out the front door in seconds.
Before I could say anything.
Before his words really registered.
In his own way, he’d told me I wouldn’t want him because of the way he was and what he’d done.
He didn’t know me.
Death and Raya appeared and sat opposite me on their own couch.
“Gun and Saint have headed over to my place,” Death said. “I’m sleepin’ here, kid.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Wren, you okay? I know it’s a stupid question, but I mean after havin’ words with my brother?”
Shifting back on the couch, I brought my legs up and crossed them under me. “He told me he’s broken and that I should ask you about his past because he can’t talk about it.”
Death’s shock was easily read when his eyes widened and his body jerked. “He wants me to tell you about his past? How’d this come about?”
My face heated. “Well, I got a little upset when it seemed like he didn’t want me to touch his hand. He told me it was the opposite, that I won’t want him around me since he’s messed up and has done bad things.”
He thinned his lips and shook his head. “My brother’s always harder on himself.” He glanced at my sister, placing a hand on her thigh before looking back to me. “Country, State, and I are the only ones who know about Torch’s past. The other brothers might have figured it out from comments he’s made here or there, but they don’t know his full story. Him askin’ me to tell you is fuckin’ huge, Wrenley.”
I already guessed that. “I understand.”
“But it is dark, kid, and I’m not sure now is a good time?—”
“Death. No offense, but you’re still getting to know me, and I might have broken down before, but it was more over the fact that I no longer have to pretend everything’s okay. The secret was killing me the most. Yes, I’m scared of Tony and his friends still. And yes, what I saw our dad do still plays on my mind. But I’m dealing. I will heal. And I can take on more. I feel safe living here. Safer with you and your club in our lives. But the safest around Torch. I don’t understand how or why, but I want to slowly get to know him more. So shouldn’t I get a choice to know everything if he’s given his permission already?”
“How about you sleep on it?” Raya suggested. Always the protector for me. My big sister. Death stared at her with such warmth and admiration, my heart clenched at the obvious love he held for Raya. “You’ve had one hell of a day, Wren. Just one sleep, and if you still want to know in the morning, then Leland will tell you.”
Death curled his arm around Raya and kissed her temple.
“Okay,” I said, more for her sake than my own. I’d still want to know. I’d already started to believe that something could grow between Torch and me.