Page 77 of Torch
“Yeah? Sounds like how I felt when I got back and realised you were gone,” he said in a gruff voice, as he angled his motorbike on the metal piece that flipped out to rest it on. He stood beside it for a moment and jerked his chin at my house.
“I’m sorry. Please, come on in, and we can talk.” I was so grateful that he’d turned up like this, and that he was willing to talk to me at least. That he cared enough to reach out to me, when I’d run like a coward.
I locked up after we were inside, and I headed straight for the kettle, while Torch set his helmet neatly on the long wooden shelf by the door, and kicked off his boots, lining them up neatly. Even angry with me, even hurting because of what I’d done, he was doing his best to keep tidy, and not stress me out.
“Thank you,” I whispered as he joined me in the kitchen, and leaned against the counter with his arms folded. He shrugged lightly, but didn’t answer.
His eyes were fixed on me, like he was trying to figure me out without words, or maybe even just reminding himself of what I looked like, before he dumped me for real. I swallowed hard, lowering my eyes, because somehow I was worried he’d figure it out, before I could tell him, and then he’d walk way.
“Look at me.”
I couldn’t find the courage to do it, instead focusing on the mugs I’d already prepared, and wishing there was something I could pretend to be doing, while he scrutinised me like that.
“Jesus, Grace, am I such a monster that you can’t even look at me? Is that why you left? Because Micro was a psycho, and somehow you think that means I am too? Haven’t I proven who I am to you by now?” My eyes flew up to meet his, and my stomach clenched at the pain I saw in his expression, at the way he was taking my disappearance as some kind of fear of him.
“What? God no. How could you think that?” I almost reached for him, but maybe he wasn’t mine to touch anymore.
“What am I supposed to think, Grace? I was in hell, with so much crazy shit going on, and I thought you were my safe place, but you were just gone. Why else would you leave, if not because you’re afraid of me or something? The only alternative I can think of is that you’re done with me, is that what’s happening here?”
“No! Oh god, I’ve made such a mess of things, Torch.”
“No arguments here, babe.” He walked away from me, out into the living room, but it felt like a chasm had opened up between us, and that dismissal hurt so much that I abandoned the drinks, and followed him, needing to close that distance before it swallowed us up.
“I’m so sorry, Torch, what can I do to make this up to you?”
He dropped heavily into one of the armchairs, and rested his hands on his thighs.
“You could try being honest with me, Grace. Was it something I did? Was I being too, I don’t know, needy or distracted? Was I too rough? Are you scared I’m like Micro? Are you scared the club is full of assholes like that? What, Grace?! Just fucking tell me!”
I dropped to my knees in front of him, resting my hands over his. Already I felt better, more settled inside, like I could speak to him easier from down here, where he could see I was being honest, and not hiding anything from him.
“You’ll hate me,” I whispered miserably, wishing his posture would soften a little, or he’d cover my hands with his, instead of the other way around.
Torch
Seeingheragainwasso much more intense than I’d expected. We’d only been apart a few days, but it felt like weeks. It felt like we were almost strangers again, and I fucking hated that. I just wanted to reclaim her, to remind her that she fucking belonged to me, but I was still struggling to understand if she even was anymore.
“I’m not feeling hatred for you, Grace, but I’m fucking hurting, and I need to understand why you left me, especially at that moment, when we came back from seeing Micro die. I fucking needed you so much, and you were gone.”
Grace’s head shot up fully, and her mouth dropped open.
“He’s dead? What happened? When Ally and Lissa said he was gone, I thought they meant he’d been arrested. My god, Torch, I’m so sorry.”
Fucking hell. That wasn’t the issue right now, and I didn’t want her focusing on it.
“Forget that right now, and explain, Grace. I need to fucking know.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“But now it’s worse. I thought he’d just be arrested. I thought he had been, that he was gone, and you could move on, but he died? My god, this is all my fault!”
“Grace,” I growled, beyond fucking frustrated because seeing her cry was eating away at my anger, and making me want to comfort her instead. I needed those damn answers before I could give in, and she needed to start talking. I pulled my hands from beneath hers and placed them over hers instead, sandwiching them between my thighs and my hands. Don’t give in and fucking hold her yet.
“I was trying to protect you, Torch, you need to know that,” she said with difficulty, because she was practically fucking gasping and hiccupping from crying already. She also looked so fucking distressed that it was eroding even more of my rage.
“Stop stalling,” I gritted out, wrapping my fingers around her hands and squeezing them gently, trying to soothe her enough to get her fucking words out.
“I made the call, Torch! I wanted to make sure you didn’t have to kill him, but he died anyway! I betrayed you, and it didn’t even help you!”
