My home.
My family.
My future.
All gone up in smoke.
“We need to go, Mona,” Carl hisses. “I can hear the sirens.”
Their footsteps crunch away as I stare at my worst nightmare.
Torin.
My Torin is gone.
I fall to my knees and let out a gut-wrenching sob, my hands reaching for what I’ll never touch again. Sirens are getting louder and I can hear Mona yelling at Carl to get the car started. It keeps turning over, but the engine doesn’t catch. My own car sits parked out front, untouched. I didn’t have a chance to grab the keys. A car is useless without keys.
“TORIN!” I cry out. The ache in my chest hurts so fucking bad. “TORIN!”
The flames are angry. Violent and furious.
I stare and stare and stare.
Everything fades around me.
Vaguely I realize firefighters are running past me, but I don’t move. A responder arrives at my side and speaks to me in soothing tones. I shake them away as I stare helplessly.
A giant explosion bursts from the side of the house from the second floor. The responder squats in front of me, but I scramble to my feet to see past her. Something just flew out of the house. Not an explosion. Firefighters run over to it and I’m not far behind. Three cats race past me, nearly knocking me over. When I push past a firefighter, I let out a scream.
My Torin.
My Torin.
He’s alive.
His face is black with soot and his hair is singed, but he’s coughing as he fumbles out of his still smoking blanket.
“Torin!” I screech and fall on top of him. He has a backpack on his back and mine is strapped to his front. I yank it off him and throw myself on top of his burning hot body.
“Casey-Casey,” he croaks.
People are shouting at me, but I don’t care. All I care is that he’s alive and well. I cradle his cheeks and pepper kisses all over his dirty face.
“I love you. Oh my God,” I sob. “You’re alive.”
“Ma’am,” someone snaps. “I need you to calm down so we can help him.”
I’m tugged away from him and it’s then I notice his leg is turned at a gruesome angle. His bone sticks out of his thigh. I gag at the sight.
“Torin!”
“Casey-Casey!”
I jerk away from the man and grasp onto Torin’s hot hand. The skin is black and red in some patches. Sobs choke me to the point I think I’ll hyperventilate.
“Ma’am—”
“I’m not leaving him!” I scream at them all.
Torin squeezes my hand. He actually squeezes me. His words are sluggish in his mouth. “She’s pregnant.”
Suddenly, they’re back to fussing over me as well and we’re torn apart. His stare is intense. Protective. Possessive. I’m hauled away and I see satisfaction in his expression.
“I love you!” I call out to him.
“Casey-Casey,” he says and then my Torin smiles.
Three weeks later…
“I can do it,” the voice on Torin’s phone chirps.
I stop hovering over the bed and throw my hands up in the air. “Fine.”
“Women,” Dr. Madsen says with a chuckle. “Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.” His eyes twinkle as he regards Torin. “Least that’s what your dad used to always say.”
Torin ignores his father’s old friend and Tyler’s doctor, but his eyes find mine. Piercing and heated. His eyes make promises. A promise to connect in bed later when we’re alone. Our mouths. Our skin. His body sinking deep into mine.
Torin hobbles over to the bathroom, his entire leg in a cast, muttering my name along the way. I want to go in and help him, but he’s so independent. It’s been three weeks since the fire and he’s told me, via his phone, numerous times that I’m babying him. And if there’s anything I’ve learned about Torin, it’s that he doesn’t like to be babied.
“That kid is a tough cookie,” Dr. Madsen says. “Just like the rest of his family. That son of his will be tough too.”
I laugh. “Son?”
“Betty’s hoping for a boy.”
“What if it’s a girl?”
“She better like blue because my wife is knitting a blue afghan.” He chuckles. “You should go see if she’ll cook you something to eat. Your weight is down since we last checked.”
I rub my belly. “I’m fine. I eat. The baby is healthy. I just know it.”
He nods. “You know that old woman isn’t happy unless she’s feeding you.”
A smile tugs at my lips. Betty and Glenn took us in after the fire until we can rebuild. They’ve been a godsend. Betty, unlike Mona, is how a real mother should be. She’s gentle and kind and loving. Every time I’m fraying apart at the seams, she sews me back together with her hugs and words of encouragement. When their daughter Liv comes over to visit and calls her Ma, I catch myself calling her Ma too. Nobody corrects me.
Speaking of mothers.
“Thank you. I’ll be down later,” I tell our doctor and family friend. I give him a quick hug and once he’s gone I go over to the dresser and open the file that was recovered after they arrested Mona and Carl. The file they stole from Tyler’s locked desk drawer.
I get brave enough to open it, but then I usually close it. Something tells me I don’t want to know whatever is in the file. Another part of me just wants to know.
The bathroom door opens and Torin emerges. I expect him to lie back down, but soon his heat is on my back. He rests his chin on the top of my head. Since the fire, Torin has been different. More affectionate—well, as affectionate as Torin can get. His eyes always need to be on me. He thrives when we’re touching. And despite the doctor’s orders to take it easy, we still find ways to have sex each night.
I almost lost him.
When he typed out his harrowing tale of escape, I literally got sick. Vomited up everything in my stomach. He was on death’s door. Had it not been for quick thinking, he’d be dead. But my brave, smart Torin, acted. In the face of danger, he made his mind and body work together. Not only did he save himself, but he saved his cats. They were terrified and Misty still suffers from kitty PTSD, but otherwise safe. Now Misty doesn’t comfort Torin, she seeks him for comfort. I think he prides himself on calming her down when she gets worked up. He’s certain she’ll relax once we move into our new place.
“Casey-Casey.”
I grab his hand and thread our fingers together. He leans into me, his nose inhaling my hair. This is us. We’re two halves of a whole. The sun and moon working together in perfect harmony.
“I’m afraid,” I mutter. “What if…” Tears well in my eyes. “Tyler hid it from me. What if I don’t like what I read?”
He buries his face against the side of my head and seeks my ear with his teeth. His hot breath sends currents of excitement rushing through me. “He,” he grunts. “Loved.” Another grunt. “You.”
A tear spills down my cheek as I stare at the file. “Don’t ever leave me, Torin.”
“Casey-Casey,” he breathes, his voice comforting me even when his hands won’t.
I flip past the first page and pluck a picture that’s attached to a paperclip at the top. A picture of me. A tiny baby swaddled in a ratty blanket. The man holding me stares at the camera unsmiling. His wide brown eyes are sad, but his expression is otherwise emotionless. He’s wearing a cheerful Christmas sweater, but there’s nothing cheerful about the man. Several people crowd around him to stare at the baby. At me. My lips are blue, but he cradles me against him as though he has the power to warm me.
“Dad.”
I stiffen at Torin’s one word. Dad. With shaking hands, I flip the picture over.
Freedom Mountain Church—December 25, 1999—Phillip Kline, Deacon
“Your dad found me.”
Blinking away tears, I flip through a file that is in a nutshell a catalogue of my life. Correspondence between Phillip and a private investigator. Pictures of me at school. Several requests for home checks at the sketchy foster homes that I was quickly moved from. I watch myself grow up. Most people have a flip book of memories and I have this. Some random documentation of my life from a stranger. It skips several years until around the time I came to stay with them and then it’s correspondence between Tyler and his private investigator. New pictures of me walking to Guy’s house. A college savings fund created in my name. A copy of my GED. Dr. Cohen’s business card. I find information about my mother. A news clipping of my father’s death in prison. Anything and everything that had to do with my life. All of it recorded and kept.
“Torin,” I whine. I don’t know how to process what I’m seeing. While I was with Tyler, he knew who I was and never told me.
I turn in Torin’s arms, unable to look at the file any longer. There are more pages to sift through but I’ll have to look through them another day when I’m feeling stronger. His fingers tangle in my hair and he roughly pulls so that I’m staring up at him. Melted chocolate eyes bore into mine.
“Casey-Casey.” His forehead presses to mine.
My heart is twisting and bleeding. I don’t understand any of it. I just know I feel duped and confused. A choked sound rattles from my throat.
“He. Loved. You.” His words come on in quick grunts. “I. Love. You.”
I’m about to open my mouth to ask why when he purposefully presses his lips to mine. His tongue thrusts out and he kisses me in a way that melts me from the inside out. As we kiss, desperate and frantic, I realize it doesn’t matter the whys. I’m here. I’m with Torin exactly as I should be.
“Mine,” he murmurs against my mouth, sending chills down my spine.
“Say it again.”
“Mine.”
I moan against his kiss when his hand settles at my hip. Each day we make progress. One day, I know we’ll be exactly where we want to be.
“Don’t ever leave me,” I beg.
He groans as he jerks his hand from my hip. I assume the moment is over, but he shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls something out. “No,” he growls, his word fierce and possessive. “Never.”
I smile when his nose nuzzles mine and he takes my hand. He slips something on my finger. Immediately I recognize it as my missing ring. I let out a squeal as I bring it up to look at it. It’s no longer dull and scratched up. No longer empty. It’s been shined and restored, much like he does his pennies. My ring shines and glistens.
It’s the flawless rock that he’s added to it.
The prongs are new and strong. They have to be to hold on to a diamond as pure and beautiful as this one.
“What’s this for?” I ask, hoping it means what I think it means.
He brings my hand to his heart and sears me in his gaze. “Mine.”
It means exactly what I thought it means.
“Yes.”
My Torin smiles.