Torn

My head is telling me I'm sick, and fucked in the brain. Not just for having feelings for a woman so young, but for being physically attracted to her, too. But my heart is telling me this is my girl, my other half—the one I've been waiting for. And let's not even get started on my dick and what that part of my anatomy is thinking and wanting.

All of this just complicates the shit out of my life. This is entirely new territory for me; not being in control of my own feelings, and I'm not dealing with it well.

These feelings can't be normal. I have adult women who want me. I can fuck them, I can love them - I can do anything with a handful of women I know. All I have to do is put the effort in, and they'd be mine any way I want them, without any baggage or dark clouds of doom hanging over us.

The problem is the only girl I really want is an adorable, smart, loving, almost-eighteen year old who I've been taking care of since she was born. Of course, she's the only girl I can't have. Karma, you are one demented bitch.

How the hell did this happen?

A year ago, I didn't feel like this. Sure, I loved and cared about her, and enjoyed her company. But that was it. We went from an uncle and niece relationship to a friendship, and that's all it ever was. There were never any other feelings involved, not even in the slightest.

So what the hell changed? How come every time I'm near her now, all I want to do is kiss her? Why do I keep losing control around her? Why can't I get her out of my head? Sure she's beautiful, but I've never been the type of guy that can't control himself around good looking women.

And even more screwed up is she seems to feel the same way. Kenzi isn't the flighty type and she's always been mature for her age. She's not a silly giggly teen like my sister was, jumping from guy to guy. Kenzi's like Asher - she knows what she wants and she doesn't deviate for anything. Knowing this scares the hell out of me even more because if she says she wants me, then she knows it one thousand percent, without a doubt. That's what I've been wanting, needing and looking for in a woman for so long. Someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to grab it.

But not like this. Not with her.

As I pack up my small pup tent and sleeping bag and secure them onto the back of my bike, I know I'm heading back home with absolutely zero resolution to my Kenzi dilemma. Thankfully she's in Maine now and I won't see her for at least two months. Quitting each other cold turkey should break whatever this new wacked out connection that’s between us is for good so things can go back to normal.

I hope.

After riding for about two hundred miles, I pull over to the side of the winding mountain road to drink some water and stretch my back out, which is starting to ache from all the hours on the bike and sleeping on the ground for two days. I can't wait to get home, take a hot shower and a muscle relaxer, and sleep in my own bed.

I'm just about to get back on my bike when I see something moving out of the corner of my eye in the tall weeds on the side of the road. Removing my sunglasses, I walk over and see that it's a taped up cardboard box. And it's moving.

Something's inside it. Scratching. Trying to get out.

Oh, fuck.

I glance up and down the road where I'm standing, and there's absolutely nothing out here. No houses or stores. It's just a road going up the mountain with nothing but woods on both sides for miles.

Kneeling down, I pull my knife out of my belt clip and carefully slice along the tape, not sure what the hell I'm going to find in this box, bracing myself for the worst.

A tiny paw shoves through the small space I've cut open, and I quickly cut the rest of the tape as a small gray furry head pokes out. At first I think it's a squirrel, but it's a goddamn kitten.

"Shit," I swear under my breath, gently taking the tiny ball of fur out of the box and cradling it in my hand. It looks to be about six weeks old and is all blue gray with a tiny white spot on its chest. As I stare at it, it begins to mew in my face at the top of its little lungs.

"Shh...I got ya little one," I say softly, gently rubbing its head. It purrs loudly in response, rubbing its fuzzy head into my palm. I check its body over for any injuries, but it seems fine from what I can see. Other than being taped into a box and thrown onto the side of a desolate road like garbage to die a horrible death. I check the box again, but there's nothing inside and no markings on the outside. Some asshole just taped a kitten into an empty box and left it to die.

Days like this, I hate the fucking world. I could easily choke the shit out of the person that did this, leave their ass on the side of the road, and feel no remorse whatsoever. In fact, I'd probably enjoy it.

I snap a few pictures of the box and the surrounding area before I carry the kitten back to my bike and pour a tiny bit of water from my thermos into my palm, which the kitten laps up quickly.

"Dude, you have no idea how lucky you are," I say to it, rubbing its itty bitty ears that are like tiny velvet triangles. "What are the odds someone like me would find you out here in the middle of friggin' nowhere?"

My mom has said a hundred times, sometimes God puts the right people in the right place for a reason. I'm not a religious person, but right now, I'm thinking she's right.

Unfortunately, my options for getting this kitten home safely are limited. My cell has no reception, so I can't even call one of my brothers to come meet me in a car. I sure as hell can't zip it up into one of my saddle bags because I'm pretty sure the roar of my pipes so close will give it a heart attack. I can't stick it back in that box and try to hold it for another two hundred miles.

"Fuck it. You better be cool, kitten," I say, as I tuck it against my chest and zip my leather jacket up. "Don't go all Freddy Krueger on me and get us killed, deal?"

I kiss the top of its head before I zip my jacket up a few more inches. This is probably not the best plan I've ever had but I have no idea how else I can get this poor thing home. Hopefully it won't scratch the shit out of me.

I start up the bike and get back on the road slowly, letting the fur ball cuddled up against my chest adjust to the noise and movement and hoping it doesn't freak the hell out. After a few seconds, I can feel it purring up against me, vibrating against my heart. So far, so good.

We head for home, stopping once at a gas station so I can fill up my tank. I slowly unzip my jacket a few inches to check the kitten, and it pokes its head out and rubs against the stubble on my chin, still purring.

"You think you're a biker cat now? Don't get any ideas. This is a one-time ride, kitten." I can't believe it's not scared out of its skull after enduring the rumble of my engine, but it seems pretty content just hanging out inside my jacket, which I guess is better than being taped up in a box. I tuck him back in and hop back on my bike to get this last stretch of miles over with.

As I cruise down the road, I wish Kenzi was with me. She would love this kitten. I can almost see her face if she had been with me when I found it. She would have cried and ground her teeth in anger, and she'd probably have it named by now and would be begging me to talk Asher into letting her keep it.

I'm not a cat person, but maybe Diogee would like someone to hang out with while I'm at the shop all day. Looks like biker box kitten is coming home with me to stay.

"Holy shit, you're turning into Dr. Doolittle," Tesla says when I pull the kitten out of my jacket and tell her how I found it in a box.

"Well, I couldn't just leave him there." I hand the kitten over to my sister so I can take all my gear off. "Call Mom and ask her if she can come over and check it out for me and bring me whatever I need. I've never had a cat before."

"You're keeping it?" she asks in surprise.

"Why not? I thought the dog would like the company." Sitting on the couch, I take off my jacket, belt, and my boots. My entire body is aching.

Tessie lays the kitten on the couch between us as she calls our mom, and Diogee sniffs the newcomer with interest, gently nudging it with his nose, and the kitten rubs against his face.

"Nice..." I say, petting Diogee's head. His tail wags as the kitten continues to rub on his nose and rolls over on his back, purring. I think they're going to be fine together.

"You sure you want a kitten, Toren? This is just a baby," Tesla says when she gets off the phone. "And this dog is clingy, too. They're both going to want a lot of attention from you."

I lay the kitten on my chest and stare into its amber eyes. "Good. I need some distractions in my life."

"Why? What's going on? Is that bitch screwing with your head again?"

Tesla isn't a fan of Sydni and has never even attempted to hide her feelings about it. Today is no exception.

"Nah, she and I are done. I just have a lot on my mind lately."

"Good. You should have kicked her to the curb years ago." She disappears down the hall and comes back with her overnight bag. "Mom said she'll be here in about an hour. I should get going. The dog was good while you were gone. I wouldn't mind watching him again for you if you need me. I went grocery shopping for you, too. You can't just live on protein powder and fruit, Toren. You have to eat real food."

"Thanks, Tess. I appreciate you coming over here at the last minute. And I do eat, I just ran out of food."

"Anytime," she says, then frowns at me with concern "Are you okay? You seem off."

I pet the kitten with one hand and the dog with the other. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"If you want to talk, you're always welcome to stop by. I feel like I never see you. Tanner, Taran and Tris come over all the time, and you've never even been to my new apartment. You're turning into a recluse like Ty."

My gaze switches up to my sister. Her natural hair color is blonde, but today it's dark auburn and has grown out a few inches past her shoulders. She's changed and matured a lot in the past year, moving out of mom's house to get her own place after landing a job as a hair and makeup artist. And she's right, I don't see her nearly enough because I all do lately is work, do what I have to for Devils’ Wolves, and then go home. Other than the bonfires and the occasional rides with Asher, I don't really socialize.