Chapter Nine

 

 

 

 

 

Tori

 

 

 

 

“Spill.”

I looked up from where I was sitting on the weight bench and met Tyson’s brown eyes. I shrugged my shoulders and pushed up on the bar again. “What?”

“Who was that guy? And don’t say nobody, Tor, because you almost fell down the stairs when you saw him.” His voice was gentle and I felt an unfamiliar burning sensation behind my eyes.

Pushing it back, I let go of the bar I had been pulling down and glanced around the room to ensure we were alone. We were, which I should have known because Tyson wasn’t a big talker around the others.

Well, he didn’t use to be.

In the weeks since Tyson had casually dropped the bomb regarding his sexual orientation, not a lot had changed with the guys. Ty himself was different, though. He was more outgoing with them, friendlier, and our company mates reciprocated completely. It was like they’d been waiting for Tyson to come out of his shell, to be social. They didn’t care if he was gay or straight, just that he was friendly.

It gave me hope.

“He’s Tristan Dunsworth’s brother. The detective,” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible and my face indifferent. Ty’s eyes went wide and I saw his fists clench at his sides.

“Please tell me that you’re kidding.”

I shook my head and moved to my feet. “That would be a strange joke.”

He moved until we were toe-to-toe and his eyes searched my face for a second before he spoke again. “Are you okay?”

“I won’t let that asshole occupy any space in my head,” I reassured him softly. “He doesn’t deserve any emotions from me, negative or positive.”

“Good girl.” Ty wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace and neither of us moved until the PA chimed. He waited while I wiped down my equipment and then the two of us headed towards the stairs together.

The dining area was crowded as everyone grabbed drinks and took their seats. I fell into my usual chair next to Christos and Lennox took the one on the other side of me. Two huge platters of spaghetti were placed in the middle along with a tray of garlic bread and I groaned loudly.

“What is your obsession with carbs, Hughes?”

The man in question grinned at me as he took his seat and began loading up his plate. “Carbs are life. Don’t pretend like you don’t love them.”

“I love them too much,” I muttered as I dished up my own plate. “That’s the problem.”

The dining area was noisy with several conversations going on at once and I was lost in my own little world, spending too much time thinking about Evan Coleman, when I caught tidbits of the conversation between Simpson and Barthe.

“…It was like an amateur porno. I didn’t know whether to be amused, ashamed, or aroused.”

My whole body went stiff. As far as I knew, the captain was the only one in the company who was aware of what had happened seven years ago. I worried every day that the rest would find out, though.

It wasn’t because I was ashamed. Years of therapy had helped me understand that I had nothing to be ashamed of. I was involved in an intimate, private, and very normal act. It was Tristan who should be ashamed. Not me.

Despite the non-reaction to Ty’s news, I was still afraid. Afraid that my co-workers would treat me like my former company had if they found out. I was afraid that my life would fall apart again.

A few times over the years, the video randomly resurfaced. I had a private investigation firm on speed dial that worked hard to get them taken down as soon as they popped up. It was true what they said, though. Once it was on the internet, it was there forever.

“What did you end up doing?” Barthe asked with a chuckle, shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth as he did. Simpson set down his water and shook his head.

“We watched it together, critiqued ourselves, and ended up doing it again but on purpose.” He puffed out his chest proudly. “I told Julie that she needed to take a crash course on how to use her phone to make sure she doesn’t accidentally film anything again, though.”

My shoulders sagged in relief when I realized that they were talking about something that had nothing to do with me. I jumped slightly when a hand squeezed my knee but relaxed when I realized it was Ty. I turned my head and found him staring at me, telling me he heard that conversation, too. I offered him a smile and we both went back to our food.

Owens was obviously texting his wife because he had a secretive grin on his face as he chewed, his eyes glued to his phone.

Megan tried to tell him she was pregnant by getting an infant sized Dodger’s jersey and leaving it on the kitchen table. Only it backfired because Owens ignored it for three days, thinking it was just something of Eli’s that Kelly had left at their place.

Apparently while they were eating dinner one evening, he knocked over his water and ended up getting the little jersey. He picked it up, shook it off, and draped it over the chair to dry.

And then Megan lost her cool and yelled, “That jersey is for our baby, smart guy. I’m freaking pregnant!”

Yeah, nothing ever went as expected for the Gold sisters but Owens was over the moon. He would tell anyone who listened that he’d knocked up his wife. I was happy for both of them. They were going to be amazing parents.

Only about half of us were done when the alarm rang out above us, the green light signaling that it was an unknown emergency, and groans sounded loudly. The guys were either mad that they weren’t done eating or that they were too full to move. It didn’t stop any of us from leaving our dishes and heading down the stairs.

I didn’t groan, though. I was just happy to be back to normal duty since my ankle had only been cleared a few days before. It didn’t hurt anymore, thankfully, but I knew I had to stop injuring it.

We were like a well-oiled machine, a solid unit. We all dressed in our turnout gear quickly and were loaded into the trucks within minutes. I sat between Christos and Trujillo and waited while Trujillo attempted to get details from the dispatcher. When he sat back in his seat, he readjusted his headset and sighed into the mic.

“Huge pile-up on the interstate. They’re estimating more than ten cars. Multiple injuries, reports of two vehicles smoking, possible flames, and apparent chaos everywhere.”

“Hell,” I muttered while Christos groaned loudly. Owens glanced over his shoulder at us and nodded grimly.

“It’s too hot for this bullshit.”

Truer words had never been spoken. The scene was insane. We weren’t the only company called out and members of the 18^th pulled up just as we did. We tackled a car that was on fire, extracted occupants from another, and helped the EMTs on scene assess other injuries.

Sweat was pouring down my face in buckets by the time we got back in the truck and we were interrupted on our way back to the station for reports of smoke in a residential neighborhood. Nothing came from that but it was close to midnight by the time we pulled back into the garage.

My skin felt crusty and grimy from dried sweat and the accumulation of new perspiration. I was so grateful for the hot water that rained down on me when I stepped in the shower. I tipped my face up so the spray hit me directly in the face and didn’t move for several long minutes. I was so tired that I could have fallen asleep standing up but somehow managed to get myself clean.

So, I was beyond irritated when I laid in my bed and couldn’t fall asleep.

Evan Coleman.

How is it that the first time I’d allowed myself to notice a man in forever he would be related to the man who tried to ruin me completely?

What in the actual fuck?

God, he was so good looking. It was obvious that he had a nice body under his jeans and shirt, especially with his muscled arms on display like they had been.

It wasn’t his body or the soft-looking brown hair on top of his head that got me, though. It was those eyes. Bright blue pools that stood out on his face had sucked me in almost immediately. And then the way he was with his niece melted my heart.

Ugh.

I tried to shut any feelings of attraction down, not to let it show outright. I’d become the master of the stone-face over the past seven years. It was hard with him, though, but I somehow managed to do it. Those feelings tingled beneath my skin and I had to remind myself who Evan Coleman really was.

Fucking Tristan Dunsworth still managed to pop up in my life years later. And now the first man I’d allowed myself even a sliver of interest in had ended up being his brother.

There was no doubt in my mind that Evan Coleman was scum. Any man who agreed to do what he had done had to be. I wondered how hard it was to hide that persona under his façade. He was good at it, though. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have had no idea that he was a snake.

I finally fell asleep but it was a restless slumber. We didn’t get another call for the rest of the night and I was happy to walk out to my SUV right when my shift ended at seven that morning. Instead of going home to sit and do absolutely nothing, I drove to my father’s house.

I knew he would be awake since he was up every day at six without fail, no matter the day of the week. He was a creature of habit.

The small house was located on the opposite side of town where I lived. It was an older home but Dad kept it in tip-top shape. The red bricks all gleamed like they were new, the front yard was xeriscaped to perfection, and each window was streak free. Going to my dad’s always made me feel like a slob.

I parked in the driveway next to his work van and went to the front door. I unlocked it with my keys and knocked twice, calling out for him as I did. His voice sounded from the kitchen and I found him sitting at the table with his tablet, undoubtedly reading the newspaper online. Dad was pretty proud of his aptitude for electronics, always stating that he had the rest of the old guys beat because he was hip with technology.

“Hey, Dad.” I leaned down and kissed the top of his balding head before falling into the kitchen chair next to him. He put down his tablet and smiled at me.

“There’s my girl. Just getting off work?”

I nodded and propped my elbow on the table so I could drop my chin into my palm. “Yeah. I thought that I could come over here and let you have the privilege of feeding your only daughter.”

“Is that so?” He chuckled and pushed away from the table. “One day you need to figure out how to fend for yourself, Vicky.”

The only person in the world allowed to call me Vicky was that man. Mom had been the one to call me Tori but Dad always said I looked more like a Vicky to him, so the two of them had split the nicknames. In his eyes, I was Vicky and my brother was Vince. I absolutely despised Vicky and Vic so it was fitting that I only allowed the two men I loved the most to call me those.

“It’s not that I don’t try. Nothing comes out edible but my coffee.” And even then, that was because I used the K-cups.

Where Dad and Vincent were decent in the kitchen, I was completely useless. I easily burned microwave meals and even managed to open Lunchables wrong. I was a mess.

My father pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and began scrambling a bunch while telling me about a couple of the service calls he’d been on over the past week. I got up to make some toast while telling him about my own week but he shooed me away after I burned the first two pieces.

“You remember that little girl from last month?”

Dad glanced up from the stove and looked at me with raised brows. “The one you saved while almost getting yourself killed? I remember. Although I’m still not convinced that pulling Evan Coleman out was the best choice.”

He hadn’t been happy with me getting hurt but Dad never begrudged me for going in to save her. He told me he understood why I did it and praised me for saving the little spitfire. Evan Coleman? Not so much.

“She came by the station yesterday. She’s a pretty awesome little girl.” I paused and looked at my lap, forcing myself to finish. “Coleman brought her.”

The spatula made a loud clanging noise when it fell to the stove and my father turned around with rage in his eyes. “Did he try to talk to you again?”

“Yeah. He tried to apologize.”

Dad narrowed his eyes even more so that they were only slits. Vincent and I both favored out mother in looks with our light blonde hair and green eyes, but Dad and Vincent had the same facial expressions when they were angry. It was uncanny, really.

“He has some nerve. Did you knock his ass out?”

I almost laughed at my father advocating for violence but it wasn’t really funny. If anyone disliked the Dunsworth family more than me, it was my dad and my brother. The two of them had seen me fall apart completely and worked hard to help me put myself back together.

“He said I don’t know the whole story.” I buttered the bread my father had managed to toast perfectly. I had no idea what he’d done differently than me since you literally just pushed down the lever but whatever.

I looked up from the plate so I could meet my father’s light brown eyes. “Is it bad if I wanted to hear him out?”

Dad turned around to grab the spatula so he could attend to the eggs but he looked over at me with his expression still hard. “No, of course not, baby girl. But what’s his game? There has to be something. I wouldn’t be surprised if wolves in sheep’s clothing ran in the family.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted softly. “He seemed genuinely friendly but at the same time, I didn’t realize the extent of Tristan’s maliciousness at first, either.”

“You’re not to blame for any of that Victoria Rose. You better not start thinking that again.” He plated up eggs for us both and we headed back to the table to sit.

“I’m not. I’m just… confused.” I groaned and Dad reached over the squeeze my hand.

“I wish your mother was here. She would know exactly what to say.” He released a long, sad sigh. “You’ve completely closed yourself off since everything went down. I’ve been watching you finally open up but it’s been a painstakingly slow process. You have to know that there are more good people in the world than bad people, Vicky. Don’t let the fact that this guy has somehow stumbled into your life derail the progress you’ve made.”

I swallowed back the emotion that threatened to appear and looked to my breakfast. “Thanks, Dad.”

I spent the rest of my Sunday with my dad. We didn’t do much, but both of us were content to just watch TV. It was what I would have done if I went home but it was much more enjoyable with my father’s laughter and commentary. I wasn’t afraid to admit that I was lonely and spending time with my father helped deter that.

Vincent showed up later in the afternoon and he helped my father make a delicious steak dinner. I lazed around and watched while they did, only being allowed to help in the form of setting the table.

As we ate, I told my brother about Evan Coleman and his reaction was similar to Dad’s. He threatened to find the detective and rip him apart but I just rolled my eyes and told him to let it go.

It wasn’t like I was going to come across Evan Coleman again.