Chapter 10 Tohrment, son of Hharm #2
I’m better about that sort of thing now, by the way. I only pass out if I’m getting my own blood drawn. #progress
I think about how Beth came here to give birth. And Luchas laid in the room next door while he was an inpatient. And Wrath recovered from a gunshot in the throat (Lover Reborn) and Rhage has gotten over his beast eating things (often) and—
“That was quick.”
I jump-scare and wrench over my shoulder. Tohr’s reemerged from the locker room, and he’s clad in leather, his jacket in his hands along with several holsters of weapons. This checks out. Though he’s supposed to be here for a social reason, he never goes anywhere unarmed.
I glance down to the sound of that dribbling ball. “I, ah, I haven’t talked to Z yet. I was just—you know, here, anyway…”
I drift off and feel like I’m floating off into outer space again.
Funny, how the tether of our feet on the ground sometimes fails, and the disassociation gets worse as I realize that if I look through Tohr, I can see the cracks in the concrete wall behind him.
They were created when the Brotherhood came to tell him about Wellsie and the baby, and they’re as obvious to me as a scream in a silent room.
Another scene I wish I hadn’t seen.
To help me ignore them, I make sure my eyes stay fixed on his handsome, military-esque face.
There’s no way I’m bringing up that part of his past. It’s there anyway, hovering over his head like a thought balloon that never goes away, and what do you know.
As a dark shadow crosses his expression, I know that he’s doing his own tripping through memory lane.
But he hides his response quickly, the containment of emotion a muscle very well used.
“Oatmeal cookies and a Godzilla movie,” he says in a hoarse voice. “That’s how it started.”
Tears come to my eyes and I blink more quickly. “And you always root for the monster, too.”
“Without fail.”
Back then, in the beginning, he’d never have imagined his worst fear would come true in such a violent way.
All males who are bonded to their mates are terrified of the birthing bed.
It’s a universal truth that there’s a high maternal fetal mortality rate in this world, and he’d done what he could to prepare himself for that risk.
The fact that that was not how he lost them seems the cruelest of punch lines.
No wonder he hates lessers so much.
“And now…” He takes a deep breath. “I’m here.”
Tohr points to his shitkickers, to the concrete floor beneath them. Resolve is written into everything about him, from the way he’s planted his weight, to the lock of his shoulders, to the emphatic way that finger is nailing the concrete under him.
“The moment we’re in,” I whisper.
He nods grimly. “That’s where I live. Neither before nor after. Right…here.”
I’m struck by the courage it takes to say this out loud, especially to me, the keeper of all that has and will happen to him. And I’m so glad there are good people in his life. Autumn, of course, and John Matthew and Xhex. But also his half-brother, Xcor, and by mating, Blay and Qhuinn’s kids.
There are so many people who care for Tohr, watch over him, protect him. And he does the same for them.
Tohr will always be a two-way street when it comes to that stuff.
I open my mouth because I want to tell him that I see only happiness for him and for Autumn.
And it is the truth. The world of Caldwell, NY, is as out of control as always, and there are very bad things coming, things that scare me and make me want to walk away from books I haven’t written yet.
But I don’t see strife for him personally.
I can’t give him that gift, though, and not just because it’s not the rules that I’ve always played by, and will continue to play by.
All of us are at risk of having the chaos of the larger world throw a wrecking ball in our own direction.
And the only thing worse than acknowledging how fragile all our most-importants are is the lie that you’re somehow out of the risk pool because you’re a good person or you already suffered a devastating loss or sickness has already darkened your door.
Because when the truth returns? It brings vengeance along with whatever shit falls on your head.
And again, I always get new things I don’t see coming when I draft.
So even though there’s nothing horrible now...it may not stay that way.
Still, I want to say something nice. Because of all the Brothers, he would do the same, if he were in my situation. And also because I just like the guy.
I clear my throat. “You are the glue that keeps everyone in this world together. Wrath may be the leader, but every unit needs a sergeant, and you are the best at that job.”
He looks away for a moment, and then those navy blue eyes swing back to me and gradually lighten. “I know. And I don’t mean to sound arrogant.”
I laugh a little. “You could never be that.”
“Oh, it could happen.” He wags that finger. “Eternal vigilance ensures humility. And God knows we have enough egos in this house to begin with.”
“That is very true.”
As he properly smiles at me now, it’s without reserve, and it’s a testament to how much he loves those who serve with and under him that any reference to those fighters of worth pulls him out of himself and his past.
So that he truly is in the here and now.
“It’s really good to see you,” I say. And that is the God’s honest.
Again, I have always liked and respected Tohr. In fact, I’d like to think if I were a member of the Brotherhood, I’d be him.
Probably not, actually. I only wish I could be as levelheaded as him.
“You, too,” he returns, that smile still in place. “It’s good to see you, too.”