Torched (24 page)

Auntie. So it wasn’t her kid. Thank fuck, because for a minute he was sick with thoughts of another man shooting his seed in her. Why the hell was he doing this to himself again?

Liv ruffled the kid’s hair. “I’ll just be a minute, lovebug.”

“Mister Torch? Can you come to our tea party?” Chloe asked, her blue eyes twinkling up at him.

Jesus Christ, a tea party? He didn’t even know what that entailed, but it didn’t sound like some shit a grown man should be caught doing.

But fuck, little girls. Who could say no to them? This was kiddie blackmail, plain and simple. He’d look like a total jackass if he said no.

“I don’t think Torch does tea parties, baby,” Liv said, obviously trying to help him out. Chloe started pouting and he felt even shittier for wanting to bolt.

He liked kids—other peoples’ anyway—he just hadn’t been expecting to be cock-blocked by one when he’d stupidly decided to get on his bike tonight. Maybe Chloe was doing him a favor though, because his dick was no longer trying to poke out of his jeans.

Fuck it. The kid had to go to bed
sometime
soon, right? It was almost ten. And they were out in the middle of nowhere, so this shit wouldn’t get back to his brothers. “Alright, sweetheart. I’d love to come to your tea party,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “If it’s okay with your aunt, that is.”

“Yay!” she shrieked. “Auntie Livie, can Mister Torch stay?”

Liv grinned at him, but it wasn’t one of those thanks-for-playing-along grins. The sneaky bitch had something up her sleeve, he could just tell. “Of course he can. But…”

Oh, here it came. She took the bigger hat from Chloe and plopped it on his head. “He needs a proper hat, don’t you think?”

Was she shitting him?

Chloe giggled. “It looks pretty on you!” She yanked on his hand. “Come on. We have cookies too.”

Torch growled his disapproval at Liv, but got distracted by the feeling of her tits brushing against his arm as he got pulled by.

Sorry
, she mouthed to him. Yeah, sorry his ass. She was loving every minute of this shit.

: 15 :

Torch didn’t strike me as the kind of man who’d be good with kids, but Chloe took a complete shining to him the minute he sat down and scarfed down the cookies she offered. The cinnamon apple tea wasn’t as big of a hit, he grimaced with every sip that tasted nothing like beer. Out of pity, I added some whiskey to his mug when she wasn’t looking. He hadn’t even tried to lose the obnoxious pink hat, but scowled at me every time one of the ugly feathers fell off and landed in his beard or stuck to his lips.

I could think of something else I wanted to stick to those lips.

Fuck, I had to stop staring at them.

After about an hour of talking in terrible British accents—at Chloe’s insistence—she finally got bored and asked to watch a movie. I didn’t know if Torch had been willingly emasculating himself for my benefit or hers, there
had
to be something more exciting going on at the Serpents clubhouse on a Friday night, but it was endearing to watch this enormous hunk of muscle and testosterone let a little girl call the shots.

We spread out on the couch, Torch and I on opposite ends with Chloe between us. He flipped through the channels and landed on a cartoon, but the stubborn child voiced her disapproval and claimed she wasn’t a baby anymore. I didn’t know shit about kids except for this one, but I figured it was just some kind of phase that had developed since the last time she visited. I didn’t see what the problem was,
I
still liked cartoons. As long as they didn’t feature glittery princesses or some other over-the-top girly shit I that couldn’t relate to. Torch seemingly didn’t get it either, he quickly gave up and tossed me the remote.

Ten minutes later, she finally gave her thumbs-up to Harry Potter. Probably not the best choice considering she still believed that monsters lived under beds and witches hid in attics, but better than that blood-fest she’d been trying to sneak a peek at earlier while the adults weren’t watching.

It didn’t take long before she was out cold, her mouth hanging open. Torch noticed and carefully scooped her up, asking where he should put her to bed. I wanted to tell him to leave her there, scared of being left to my own devices with him, but I knew he’d see right through that. So, I led the way as he carried her up the stairs, her head resting in the crook of his tattooed neck.

We worked as a team. He layed her down, I peeled off her little socks and headband, he pulled the comforter up, and I tucked it around her. The whole scene was just so… Leave It To Fucking Beaver.

Which was why I started laughing as soon as we walked out of the room.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. That was just so domestic. Didn’t take you for a guy who’d be good with little girls.”

He winked. “What can I say, baby?
All
the ladies love me.”

“Yeah,” I smirked, “I bet.” I smacked him in the arm before heading downstairs, shaking my head the entire way.

He followed me to the kitchen, where I pulled out the bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses from a cupboard. I also grabbed a beer for him and poured a glass of wine for myself. Yes, it had all the makings of a disaster, but fuck, I needed a drink. Torch’s steely and intense gaze had been making me nervous all night.

Truth be told, it was also making me incredibly horny. Why I thought adding alcohol to the equation would be a good idea, I had no clue, but I needed something to take the edge off before I lost my grip. One shot, no more than that. There was a fine line between booze being relaxing, and booze making you do the stupid shit you were trying not to do in the first place. I’d decided days ago that I wasn’t going there with him. My throbbing clit would just have to suck it up.

Or maybe Torch could suck on it?

Jesus, I
really
had to stop staring at that mouth.

He took a glass and held it up. “To
you
, darlin’.”

Unnerved, trembling, and worried about spilling liquor all over myself, I quickly clinked my glass against his and threw it back. “Let’s go have a smoke outside,” I suggested, figuring the patio was safe enough.

It was a beautiful night out—still in the fifties and a sky clear of any clouds above us. This far out from the city you could see every star flickering. It was so serene and peaceful that even my racing heart slowed down a bit. I turned on the outdoor gas fire pit and sat down in a chair.

Torch scooted his around, bringing us closer together. “Didn’t realize you have family.”

“Not by blood,” I replied. “She’s my best friend’s daughter. Lexi and Neil came for a visit and I offered to babysit so they could have a night to themselves.”

“Neil… Neil…” Torch murmured, trying to place the name. “The guy who set you up with Snoop?”

“Yeah. That one.”

He lit two cigarettes in his mouth and handed me one, just like he’d done back in Ohio. “So you lied?”

He’d have to be a lot more specific. “About what?”

“You said you weren’t close. That he was just a friend of a friend,” he reminded me.

Oh. That. Well, that wasn’t really a lie. “He did it for Lexi, they were just dating. So technically, he was a friend of a friend. But we’re all close now. How do you even remember that?”

Torch smirked. “I remember it
all
, sweetheart.”

I felt myself turning red, not sure I wanted him remembering
everything
. Taking a sip of my wine, I looked out at the trees swaying in the wind. Why the fuck was I so nervous around the man? All this time later?

“Why are you still running, babe?” he asked, in that deep baritone voice I’d missed like crazy. He could have threatened to gut me like a fish with that voice and I’d still feel all tingly inside.

But the nosy shit again? Wasn’t feeling that.

I looked back over and met his stare. “I’m sitting on my ass.”

“You know what I fucking mean. How long are you planning on staying in Colorado? It’s about that time, right?”

I knew exactly where he was going with it, the statute of limitations had run out and he’d had someone look into me. Somehow, someway, he’d figured out that I wandered a lot. What was his fucking problem? “Cut the crap, Torch. You obviously came here to talk about something specific. I don’t like riddles.”

“No riddles, babe. Just saying I know you make a habit of moving around.” He studied my face, trying to get a read.

I shrugged. “I get bored. So what? You were nomad once, you know how nice it is not to be tied down.”

He wasn’t buying it. “I didn’t go nomad to get out of being tied down. I was running. Which is how I know that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Oh, please. He didn’t know shit about me or what made me tick. If he’d made the connection to Mitch, he would have led with that. But he didn’t, he was just making assumptions again. “Because we’re so much alike?” I asked sarcastically.

“I’m thinking we’ve got a lot more in common than you realize,” he replied.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t give you the right to pry into my life and come into
my
home demanding I fill in the blanks. I did you a favor, not the other way around. So what the fuck, Torch?”

“You tell me what the fuck,” he snapped. “Why didn’t you call?”

Was that what this was about? “I didn’t realize I was supposed to chase you down. Thought we had an understanding.”

He groaned. “I don’t understand a fucking thing about you, except that you’re always looking for the worst in me. Why is that, babe? Why is it so hard to believe I actually give a shit about you?”

“You can’t give a shit about somebody you don’t know—”

“Well I guess you’ve just got me by the fucking balls, huh?”

I sighed and hung my head. I wasn’t pissed off at him, I just felt cornered. I knew he cared, I knew I could trust him, he’d never done anything to prove otherwise. If anything, my memories from all those years ago were the very first good ones I could remember.

God, why did my life have to be so fucking complicated? Why did his? He couldn’t possibly understand, but I wasn’t just trying to protect myself here. We both had something to lose.

But I didn’t want to be a bitch. I couldn’t. If I were in his boots, I’d want answers too.

I glanced back over at that beautiful bearded face that had haunted me for fucking years. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s not that I didn’t
want
to call.”

“Then why, Liv? Why didn’t you dial the number? All this time I carried two fucking phones, just in case you did. I even hired a PI to look for you once. What the hell have you been doing that you couldn’t trust me enough to let me know where you were? Christ, at least let me know you were still breathing? You just show up one day to tell me about this goddamn
massacre
plot, sounding like a fucking accountant talking about a spreadsheet. Like you deal with this shit for a living. This isn’t just me worrying about you, I’ve got the whole club to worry about—”

“You think I’m a threat? Torch, I’d
never
hurt you or your club.”

“Didn’t say you would, but you gotta understand where I’m coming from. I
need
answers, sweetheart.”

I did understand, a little too well.

He stared at me as I stubbed out my cigarette and gulped down the rest of my wine. I could give him a partial explanation at least, before he went digging even further back in time and tripped over a landmine. “What I told you guys about being a hacker and working for myself was true. When I left Ohio, I had ten grand in my pocket. Which seemed like a lot at the time, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. I was a high school drop-out with nothing but a summer of bartending on my resume. Living paycheck-to-paycheck on tips sounded like a special kind of hell, but I didn’t really have the time or money for school. I knew I needed a skill I could teach myself. I’d always been a quick study and loved reading, so I bought a used laptop and started spending my days at the library. Within weeks, I’d learned to code in three different programming languages, so well that I could build an entire website in a day. I started freelancing and kept studying. Pretty soon, I didn’t just know how to build a website, I could break into servers and launch DoS attacks. I didn’t even do it to be malicious or get paid, just to see if I could. But within a couple years, my skills were up there with some of the best hackers around. I realized I could make a shit ton of money doing more than just building online stores. I started taking gigs from private companies to fix bugs, tighten up security, wipe servers, that kind of shit. I made an online name for myself. Next thing I knew, I was being chased by more shady organizations, the kinds that do a lot of creative accounting at tax time. I was already raking in, but these people had no problem paying a premium, usually four or fives times the going rates. In cash. I started taking some of those jobs, but I always look into a client before agreeing to anything. I’m hardly a pillar of morals and couldn’t care less about insurance fraud or corporate espionage, but I draw the line at people getting hurt.”