Page 5 of Faithless
2
RORI
The neck pain woke me up first.
I rolled over with a groan, then promptly rolled back at the sensation of teetering on the edge of a cliff.
Ah, that’s right.It was coming back to me now. Torr ended up crashing at Daren and Lily’s place too, so he got the big couch while I squashed myself onto this tiny-ass loveseat. I vaguely remembered complaining drunkenly that Daren and Lily needed more bedrooms for us to crash comfortably. Daren said something about us paying rent, then I said something along the lines of, “Fuck you, but I love you,” and that was the last I remembered.
I stretched my arms and legs, which meant throwing them over the arms of the loveseat. My throat was dry as a bone and a little scratchy. I knew I shouldn’t have had that cigarette.
The memory of Torr lighting it for me came to the forefront of my mind and replayed like a movie. I knew I’d be recalling that moment again and again—the way his dark eyes bore into me, how the light and shadow played across his face, the smoke swirling around his silhouette like he was some mysterious figure in the night.
I would think back to it while daydreaming, because I was that pathetic. I was no better than the girls orbiting around him, desperate for a scrap of his attention.
I rubbed my forehead, keeping my eyes closed. He was across the room right now, his long frame stretched out over the couch. It was kind of unusual that he didn’t find some other girl to take home. His place was only a few blocks up from here. But I suppose even players had their off days.
Slowly, I lowered one leg to the floor, then the other, pushing myself up to sitting. Whispers and gentle sounds of movement came from the kitchen, which meant Lily and Daren were already up. Damn early birds.
Ugh, no. Don’t think about birds.
That whole shit with the dove was so weird and had never happened to me before. As I padded to the kitchen, I wondered if maybe I should cut down on drinking. I liked to party; I mean hell, my whole family did. But anything to do with hallucinations freaked me out, which was why I wasn’t a hard-drug type of girl.
Lily signed a cheerful, “Good morning!” to me as I shuffled over to their breakfast bar.
I gave a small wave and said as I signed back, “Good morning, birthday girl. Thank you,” and accepted the mug of coffee she held out to me.
Daren had his back turned, tending to something sizzling on the stove. Some kind of breakfast sausage from how it smelled. “Hey Ror, next time you come over,” he said over his shoulder, lazily signing one-handed so Lily wouldn’t be left out of the loop, “can you bring another carton of eggs? We’re getting low.”
“Sure, but text me later to remind me.” My ASL wasn’t at the level where I could say everything one-handed, so I set my coffee down to answer. “You know I can’t remember shit first thing in the morning.”
Lily chuckled as she brought plates down from a cabinet. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Thirsty and a little sore from your loveseat, but I’m otherwise fine,” I told her, knowing she would want the honest answer.
She shook her head as if in disbelief, then playfully bumped Daren with her hip. “I’m always amazed at the alcohol tolerance of you two. I had half the amount of drinks and still needed headache medicine when I got up this morning.”
“That’s our biker tolerance,” Daren said with a laugh, then kissed her temple. “Steel Demon genes, whatever you want to call it. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
“Why a curse?” Lily asked before handing him a plate.
“Because we don’t always know when to stop,” I answered for my brother while his hands were busy plating up food.
Our dads didn’t make it a secret that they had used drinking as a crutch, though that was mostly in the past. Shadow had been especially careful about his intake for as long as I could remember.
Probably the most important thing about growing up in a family of bikers was that they didn’t hide bad shit about the world from us. Me, Daren, and our younger siblings all knew that our parents had been outlaws when the world was in turmoil. The Collapse of the United States over thirty years ago meant territories were unstable, with laws and order going completely out the window.
Wars over territory and resources were constant back then. My parents’ accounts were backed up by our history classes in school.
There had been a big war just outside of our territory before I was born, with all of my parents playing key roles, that ended in victory. They had become heroes, local celebrities. To this day, everyone in our town, Four Corners, knew who they were. My parents left their outlaw ways behind and started legitimate businesses when the territory was still young and had been here ever since.
Even though Daren and I had grown up happily, with a loving, supportive family, our parents didn’t hide that the past war and turmoil left lasting damage. Reaper didn’t have full use of his left hand. Jandro, Gunner, and even our mom had scars from gunshots and stab wounds. Shadow was covered in scars, including a large one on his face that cut through his eye. He was the “scariest” of my dads, but what most people didn’t know was that he was one of the kindest, most loving people on earth.
Daren and I were fully aware of the sacrifices they’d made so that our lives could be better. Right then it made me feel a little guilty for my pity-party feelings last night. So what if I didn’t have four hot boyfriends, or even one? Who cared if I didn’t have my life fully figured out at twenty-three? At least I’d never seen a day of war in my life.
I tried to hold on to that sentiment as Torrance noisily rose from the dead, groaning as he stretched and then the loud thump as he rolled from the couch to the floor. He still looked half-asleep as he stood, following the smell of food to join us in the kitchen.
Wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, of course.
