Torn

He slams his fist down on the top of my dresser. "That's right, Kenzi. He was supposed to be taking care of you, not turning you into his own little fuck toy behind my back."

Before I can stop myself, I've slapped him hard across the face, and he touches his cheek and looks at me like he has no idea who I am.

And that makes two of us; I don't know who I am right now, either.

"I'm sorry." I whisper shakily. "But I am not a fuck toy. I know you're mad and upset, but I won't let you disrespect me. Or him. Or what we have."

As my words sink in he nods slowly and softly says, "I just love you so much, Kenzi. This is killing me."

I force myself to take a deep breath. "I know that and I'm sorry. But that's no excuse for you to say nasty things."

He sits on my bed and puts his head in his hands and his body shakes with silent sobs. My heart slowly dies watching him in emotional agony, knowing this is my fault.

"You're right," He lifts his head. "I didn't mean what I said, sweetheart. My head is just completely wacked right now."

Seeing him so gutted is terrible. I just want this all to stop before it gets worse. "I think we should just go to bed and talk about this in the morning, Dad."

"I can't do that. He's going to tell me to my face what he's done."

My breath catches. "You're going over there? Now?" I ask, worry washing over me in a tidal wave.

"Yes. He and I are going to have a nice long talk." He answers sarcastically.

I hang onto his arm and try to stop him from heading towards the door. "Dad, please. He's still recovering from the accident. Please don't touch him," I beg, sobbing uncontrollably. "If you hurt him, I'll never forgive you. I swear to you, I won't." I plead with my eyes and cling to the sleeve of his shirt.

"Kenzi, this is between me and him. Don't call him, don't text him, and don't show up over there, either. You need to let me deal with this."

"It's the middle of the night. Please leave him alone and just go tomorrow when you've calmed down. We'll go together," I offer, trying to sound hopeful. "That's how we had planned to tell you. We just wanted to wait until after your tour."

He wrenches his arm out of my grip. "This isn't going to wait. I need to talk to him alone. Go to bed. We'll talk more about your part in this in the morning. And don't plan on ever seeing him again."

I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off. "I'm still your father, Kenzi, and I'd like you to listen to me,” Sadness fills his voice and infiltrates the air between us. “We've never fought before this, Kenzi. Ever."

"I know." I answer tearfully. "I hate it. I can’t stand seeing you this way, so angry and upset."

"Then do as I ask please and let me handle this with him. I want you to go wash your face and lie down. We'll talk in the morning."

I sit on my bed and cross my arms, hugging myself. "I'll never stop seeing him, Dad. I love him and need him too much. Just like how you feel about Mom. I'll never let him go,” I say as he heads for my bedroom door again.

He halts with his hand on the doorknob and turns slightly towards me. "We'll see about that."

I fall apart the moment he leaves, crying into my comforter like a child having a tantrum but I just can’t stop. Feeling helpless and terrified, I’m consumed with the guilt of the damage I've created between two best friends that will probably never be able to be repaired. I've never seen my father so angry before and I'm afraid of what he'll do to Tor. We never should have let this go on without telling my father, and now I blame myself for wanting to wait. Everything just spiraled out of control. I don't know how we can possibly ever make this right again.

33

Tor

Tor ~ age seven

Asher ~ age seven

"Mrs. Johnson thinks we're brothers. 'Cuz we look alike." He's followed me over to the rock I'm sitting on at the corner of the fenced in schoolyard. I always sit here alone during recess and either draw or write in my sketchbook.

I nod at him. We both have hair the same color and length, touching our shoulders. Unlike the other boys in class with their short spiked hair. I refuse to let my mom cut my hair because I want to tie it back like my dad does when he rides. I've never talked to this kid Asher before, but I know about him. His parents are famous. His father is a musician and I love music. I know all his songs and I play them on my old guitar. Asher is lucky.

"You don't talk much, do ya?" He says, sitting next to me.

"Not really."

"So, we're gonna be friends. I like how quiet you are."

"And what if someday I'm not quiet?"

"We'll still be friends. Best friends are forever."

Tor

"Finally," I say into the phone. "I've been a wreck waiting for you to call."

"Tor..." she gasps. "My dad is on his way there. He knows about us."

I bolt up in bed, instantly wide awake. "What? What happened?"

"It's my fault, I'm so sorry," she cries. "I tried to read my mom’s journal and he caught me. I was acting weird and he could tell something was wrong. You know how he is...then he took my phone and he saw your text."

"Oh, shit." I climb out of bed and pull my sweatpants on, cradling the phone against my shoulder.

Her breathing is erratic and she's sniffling and coughing as she tries to talk. It’s making me want to crawl through the phone just to hold her. "He went insane, Tor. It was awful. I've never seen him like this. I'm scared..."

"Angel, calm down, baby, okay? Please don't cry. I'll take care of it."

"I'm afraid he's going to hurt you."

"He's not going to hurt me," I reply, even though I'm sure he will. And I deserve it if he does. I overstepped a huge line of trust between us and I know him well enough to know that this is not something we're going to talk out. This isn't a disagreement about how a song should end or whose bike is fastest or what beer is the best. This is about his best friend putting his hands all over his little girl. That's all he's seeing and hearing right now, and I'll take the punishment for it because I know I would feel the same way if the situation were reversed.

"Tor, please don't fight with him," she begs. "I know you could hurt him but please don't."

"Don't worry, Kenzi. We'll figure this all out. Everything will be okay." Car headlights shine across my windows. "He's here so I'm going to go talk to him. I want you to just calm down, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too."

I don't wait for him to knock; I just go to the front door and open it, and his fist immediately crashes into my face. I stumble back as blood spurts from my nose and he slams the door shut behind him.

Steadying myself, we stand eye-to-eye, glaring at each other. We are equal in height and build. Equal in strength. Our love and protectiveness for Kenzi just as equal. I know neither one of us would back down.

"You mother fuckin' pig," he growls. "You touched my daughter? You're her uncle."

"Ash..." He punches my face again, and as I shake it off, he sucker punches me in the ribs and I feel a harrowing snap.

"I trusted you,” he states, looking me in the eye, forcing me to see the pain, betrayal, and devastation seeping from his soul. Making me feel it with him. How the fuck could you do this to me?" he shoves me hard in the chest and I stumble backwards again.

"You gotta know I fought this, man. I fought it with every part of myself. I tried to put distance between us, to try to forget the feelings I had for her, and change the feelings she had for me - all of it. But everything just kept coming back stronger. I just couldn't fight it anymore,” I admit. “I love her more than anything. I think I always have, as fucked up as I know that sounds. We have some kind of deep connection. She makes me happier than I've ever been, and I know she feels the same way about me."

He shakes his head as if he almost pities me for believing my own words. "She's only eighteen, Toren. She has no idea what she feels."

"That’s not true."

"Whatever the hell you think is going on, it ends today,” He shoves his finger into my chest. “I've given you everything, Tor. I've saved your ass a thousand times. You can't have my daughter."

"I'm not letting her go. With or without your blessing, I'm spending my life with her."

His head tilts up to stare at the ceiling before he looks back at me. "Listen to yourself. What the fuck is wrong with you? She thought of you as her uncle. You babysat her for years! How sick are you?" He shoves me again, hard, and my ribs scream in pain.

"You're right. It did make me feel sick."

"So you just kept doing it? What the fuck, Tor? I can't wrap my head around this." He grips his head with his hands, glaring at me. “Who are you?”

I shake my head as blood drips from my face onto my carpet. "I don't know. I couldn't stop. I know it was wrong, Ash. And I'm so fucking sorry. You have no idea how much this has been killing me inside."

"Killing you?” He bellows. “No. This is killing me. When did you start touching my little girl, you sick fuck?"

The accusation I’ve dreaded hearing has finally been spoken.

"I never touched her. I swear. This only happened a few months ago. I never once thought of her other than as my niece and a friend before that. I swear. I have never touched her inappropriately. I could never do that.”

"You're fucking sick," he states, hatred heavy in his voice as he points at me. "You were my best friend. I was supposed to be able to trust you." He punches me again. This time, I fall backward onto the floor and he takes the opportunity to kick me hard in the ribs with his steel-toed boots.