9. 9 Tori

Chapter nine

9: Tori

M y palm is burning, screaming at me as it pulses with pain. Way to be stupid, Tori.

It's been twenty minutes since Blaze left me to mop up my tears alone. He hasn't come to check on me, or even pester me, which I'm grateful for, needing to process my emotions away from his scrutiny.

Tears might not accomplish anything, but they certainly help heal. Releasing my waterworks and relinquishing my bottled-up emotions, exposed feelings I've long since suppressed.

I stare at myself in the mirror one last time, seeing my mess of hair, my eyes puffy and pink. There's no denying I've been sobbing for a while. I think my eyes have swollen to double their natural size from the tears I've shed.

I'm tired of crying.

With a deep breath, I steel myself for what's on the other side of this door, knowing not to trust whatever small moment Blaze and I might have had. He'll always be the enemy.

“Done crying?” he asks, pushing off the wall he's leaning against. He's in my space again, grabbing my hand to examine it once more. “We might have to go to the doctor. It's a bad burn. ”

“Aw, are you worried about me?” I bat my lashes, trying to tease him into forgetting the fact he just saw me have a breakdown.

“Honestly, Doll, you need to be more careful.” The weight of his tone, the slouch of his shoulders, it's as if he's exasperated with me.

I shrug like it's not a care of mine. It's not as though I'm looking to get hurt; it just so happens that I'm a little oblivious at times. When my mind is too busy thinking, it doesn't pay attention to my surroundings. It's why my shoulders bump into the corners of walls, or why I trip over ledges and small steps.

“Ay, ay, captain. I'll do my best.” I salute him like an idiot, feeling so much more awkward than I thought possible.

He just rolls his eyes, letting my hand fall back at my side. His fingers linger against my own as he releases them, almost as if he didn't want to let it go. His eyes hold my gaze, a hint of worry hidden behind those dark orbs.

“Let's go get you checked. You're acting weird.” He furrows his brows as he makes his decision, hooking his fingers with mine, pulling me along behind him.

“I am honestly fine.” I manage to yank myself out of his hold, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You're not fine.” He shakes his head, reaching for me once more, ready to drag me out of here if he needs to.

I take a step back, holding my hand up to keep it away from him. “Fine. I'm not fine, but it has nothing to do with the burn. So, can we just drop it?”

The corner of his eyes crease as he squints at me, assessing me, watching me for the slightest hint of insanity. When he moves forward, I take a step back, continuing this until I have nowhere to go, pinned against the wall. He leans his arm above my head, looking down at me as he closes the distance between our faces .

“It's not like you to cry. Start talking, or I'll take you kicking and screaming to the hospital.”

I chew on my bottom lip as I decide my secret is safe with him. He never did reveal anything I told him in the basement, but I need to be sure.

“Basement,” I whisper, and his eyes flash with understanding, nodding his head.

“Basement rules,” he assures me, hardly blinking as he keeps me glued with his eyes.

“Alicia decided we couldn't be friends anymore, and she's the only family I've known all my life.” The confession is heavy, weighing my tongue down like cement.

Blaze doesn't move, doesn't say a word, staying eerily quiet, breathing deeply as he stays close. “If she's really family, she'll come around.”

Oddly, Blaze provides me with words of comfort I never thought I'd get from him. He doesn't pull away, staying in this unusual tender moment with me. His fingers on his other hand run along the length of my jaw, stopping at my chin as he pinches it and lifts it towards him.

“Did you bloom?” I cock my head to the side at his question, unsure of what he means. “Were you in the right environment?”

His eyes flicker between my own, searching for the answer as if whatever I say out loud won't be the truth. “I tried.”

I'm honest, because I did… I tried hard. I thought being surrounded by Alicia, my only real family, would help me. Instead, I stalled—through no one's fault but my own—I stopped reaching. I did the bare minimum at work, at school, and in my relationships. The last one I could blame on Thorne, but in reality, it was all me.

“I'll make you bloom. I promise.” He lets my chin go, and just like that, the moment fades, and he's back to being his cool, calm, and collected self .

The words shake my being, rattling around my head in sweet echoes, a promise I'm not sure he can keep, not sure he's capable of accomplishing, but one I'll never forget.

He does remember our conversation.

“Since you're fine, I guess you can go clean up the mess you caused.” He crosses his arm, back to the man I know. “Don't worry, I won't make you eat it off the floor.”

And boom—I hate you again.

Way to ruin it, Blaze. Just when I think you might be human…

After I clean up the mess in the kitchen, Blaze leaves me alone for a while. Maybe because he feels bad for my hand, or maybe because he's just tired of being around me. Either way, he isn't as merciful when lunchtime rolls around.

“Let's go. Time to learn.” He finds me in my room, staring at what I'm sure is a forming blister on my hand. “For God's sake, leave it alone. You're going to make it worse.” He rolls his eyes at me like I'm some small child he's annoyed he has to watch.

“I'm not picking at it. I'm just looking,” I pout, following him downstairs. And because today's bad luck isn't over, I step on the tip of my sock. When I lift my foot, it goes nowhere, stuck beneath the other, while my body continues to propel forward. I'm falling, and it isn't slow, but what's worse is Blaze is right in front of me, his foot placed on the top step of the stairs.

I let out a yelp, alerting Blaze of our impending doom, knowing if I tumble down these steps, he's tumbling with me. Like a black cat, Blaze's reflexes are fast, catching me before I fall onto him. His steel-like arms hold me close, containing me in them rather than placing me down. He carries me down the stairs before placing me on my feet, cutting me with a deadly glare .

“If you don't stop trying to hurt yourself, I'm going to have to tie you up.”

I gulp— like, literally gulp —a big, stupid sound leaving my throat as I slowly lower my head. “I'm not trying to hurt myself. I just…” I sigh, embarrassed to admit my stupidity. “I stepped on my sock, okay?”

I avert my eyes, certain I'll find the deadly expression that plagued my nightmares in high school. The laughter that suddenly bounces off the wall washes me cold, a rare sound to hear. It echoes in my ears like a beautiful melody that will replay in my head for years to come.

“Be more mindful of your surroundings, Doll. Or am I going to have to teach you that, too?”

“Nope. I got it.”

I can't tell whether I'm pissed, fine, or scared. All I know is I feel like I have to take a shit now.

All three emotions are swirling around in my stomach in a cat fight… cue cartoon plume of smoke and all . It's pumping nerves through my body, putting me on edge as we continue our path to the kitchen. Thankfully, lunch is easy and kept to assembling cold foods.

Some cutting is involved, but thankfully, no one is hurt in the making of our lunch wraps. That's not to say that some tortillas weren't maimed in the process. Oopsies.

“There,” I pat it as if it's a baby I just tucked in to sleep.

“Great. Pass it over,” he casually states, eyes still on his own plate. I gawk, mouth open, not wanting to hand over my hard work.

I want to eat it!

“Here.” He pushes his plate over to me, and before I can react, he takes mine. Not two seconds later, he's already taken a bite of it.

I sigh, staring down at his wrap, which may look a hundred times better and probably taste a thousand times more delicious, but it isn't the one I worked so hard on. With a slight tilt of my chin, I take a bite, enjoying the bursts of flavors.

It's fucking delicious! Jesus!

I moan because all good food must be praised, but of course, I get a side-eye from Blaze.

“Needs work,” is all he gives me, but I see him eat every last bite anyway.

I watch as he brushes a crumb off his lip with his thumb, suddenly lusting over him like a starved lion. I am starving. The last time I had any action was Kyle, and that amounted to more nothingness. I can't remember the last time I orgasmed.

I need some fucking tension relief. I'm too deprived for my own good when I'm fantasizing about the guy who was quick to betray me.

“What now?” I ask as I swallow my savored last bite.

“Now you clean up. I have some work I need to get done.”

He turns, racing out of the kitchen like it suddenly caught fire. It's impossible to know what goes on in his mind, to know the thoughts that plague him. I sigh as I place our dishes with the others and get them washed.

Dishes are a lot harder to do with one hand.

I'm drying my hands when the doorbell rings. While I'm in the middle of contemplating whether or not to answer the door myself, it swings open, and with an air of arrogance, Sadie steps in.

For the love of God! What hellish day did you conjure up for me?!

She's grinning from ear to ear as she saunters her way inside, slowly closing the door behind her. I watch as she scans the area, moving along the wall like a thief in the night. It isn't until I take two steps forward that she seems to notice me, freezing in place .

Her eyes are wide as she bats her fake eyelashes at me. One. Two. Three times. She clears her throat, standing straight and away from the wall as if I hadn't just caught her trying to sneak around.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is tight as she feigns casual friendliness towards me. Perhaps trying to ensure I'll keep my lips sealed.

“Living,” I shrug, because as much as I want to say I was dragged here, I'd be breaking one of their rules again. Being home alone with each of them is bad enough, I don't want to know what they'll do if I break another rule.

Tie you up to your bed and have their way with you, maybe?

Jesus, Tori. Get laid.

The corners of Sadie's eyes crease ever so lightly as she tries to hide her suspicion, fully aware she has no leg to stand on. There's a long, awkward pause I don't feel inclined to fill as we stare each other down.

“Hey, Doll, I decided you need to learn how to make my favorite snack. I want it brought to me when I'm working at home.” Blaze is none the wiser of the situation as he emerges from his office with his face buried in his phone.

“The devil snacks?” I retort, needing Blaze to look up sooner rather than later, but by the sneer that spreads across Sadie's features, I wonder if maybe I should be the one to worry.

“The devil snacks the most,” he smirks as he pries his eyes away from his screen to meet my gaze. It instantly fades when he turns to find Sadie. His right brow twitches, almost like a tic brought on by her presence alone. “What the hell are you doing here now, Sadie?”

“I came to surprise Thorne. He said he was having a short day at the office.” She sways back and forth on the balls of her feet as she holds her hands behind her back, trying to seem as innocent as possible.

No one is buying it, Sadie. We all know what a bitch you are .

My stomach twists thinking of Thorne being in a relationship with her. There's a hot coal inside of me, burning, ripping me apart as I imagine him sleeping with her. My mind conjures agonizing images of his touch, his lips on hers, fueling a jealousy I can barely contain.

I shake my head hard, needing to throw the image out as quickly as possible. The feeling stays buried in my stomach as a reminder of the way I want to claim Thorne as my own.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Blaze throws an odd look my way, wondering what's wrong, too, before he meets Sadie's eyes again. He pinches at the bridge of his nose momentarily, thinking, maybe contemplating his life decisions.

“I don't get what he sees in you. He isn't here yet. Why don't you make yourself scarce? You know where his room is.” He shoos her away, motioning for her to go up the stairs and make herself at home away from him.

There are now seventy-thousand hot coals in the pit of my stomach, a pain so harsh, I have to hold back a groan.

I swallow down the agony as I watch her ascend the stairs, seeing her turn to look down at me with an arrogant smirk I want to slap off her face.

Maybe I'll trip and fall on you next time. I wouldn't mind tumbling down the stairs as long as I land on top of you, Sadie.

“Jealous?” Blaze taunts me, his arms crossed, assessing me with his dark eyes. I feel small beneath his intense stare, folding into myself further.

“Of plastic Barbie? Hell no!” I do my best to ignore the pain roiling in my abdomen and force myself to stand straight, head up high.

“Good, cause you can't have him anyway.”

Those last words rattle me, more than I ever thought they could. Not because he's implying that I want Thorne, or even that he thinks he can tell me what I can and can't have—it rattles me because it reveals a feeling I didn't know I had—that I actually want Thorne. I don't just want to sleep with him. I want him to be mine and mine alone.

“Come on. Snack time.”

Blaze has me skin and cut apples, plate them cutely, and then dollop peanut butter in the center for him to dip them in. It's not hard and I know I can do it alone. I've done it many times when baking apple pies. Peeling and cutting apples is not something he has to teach me, but I say nothing in protest. I'm too lost in thought, staring at the door, then the stairs, repeatedly.

“Come with me.” He doesn't let me respond, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him. He pulls me into his home office, a smaller version of his space at work. Much like in Lumina Towers, he has a glass desk with a black, leather chair and a desktop computer. Behind him is a bookshelf neatly organized with books ranging from law to engineering. There's a black couch about 3 feet away from the desk, tucked in the corner of the small area.

Blaze closes the door behind me, letting my hand go and pushing me back. I fall over the arm of the couch and onto its cold leather cushions, my feet now dangling in the air. I prop myself up on my elbows, ready to blow up at him when he places his plate down and levels me with a glare.

“What is it about Thorne that has you so wrapped up in him? Wasn't he the one that cost you your friendship with Alicia?” He takes a slow step towards me as he carefully rolls his sleeves up.

“You all did that,” I argue, trying to defend myself, but I really don't know why I'm even arguing. I shouldn't be feeling this way at all. Blaze is right. Thorne nailed the coffin on my relationship with the person I thought was family .

“He was the one who started bullying you before us. He's the one that got us involved. It's because of him that you ended up like this… this shell!” His voice grows more and more powerful as he speaks, but then he stops, taking a deep breath before whispering, “You were meant for more.”

It stuns me silent long enough for him to close the distance between us, sitting on the edge of the couch with his hands placed above me, suspending himself over me.

“Is it because he slept with you? Is it because he told you he loved you?” his voice rasps, lowering with each word until it's so deep, I hardly recognize it.

My heart races as his nose brushes against my own, filling me with anticipation, adrenaline, and a slight fear. No matter how hard I try to understand Blaze, I can't. I have no idea where he's going with this, or why.

Is he the one being jealous? I don't get why he would be.

“Get off me Blaze,” I say, but there's absolutely no conviction behind the words. This closeness is radiating warmth through me, an excitement I didn't think could happen with anyone other than Thorne. It disgusts me, yet makes me feel alive all at once.

How can I feel this way about someone who made me run out of school naked?

“Answer my question.” His breath fans over my face a warm air that smells of peppermint and the peanut butter he just ate.

“Fuck off.”

I see the change in his eyes as they flicker angrily, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. “You'd love that, wouldn't you? Just a house to yourself to be alone with him .”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I squirm beneath him, trying to get loose as his face sours further .

“I'm the one who loves you. I'm the one who's kept your secrets, who has gotten even with all those foster families for you. I'm the one who knows what you're capable of, who can lead you to the right places. It's me who will make you bloom.”

Got even with my foster families? Love me?

It's official—my sanity is lost. There's no reality in which Blaze would confess these words.

The fight in me disappears as my mouth parts in shock, and he takes the opportunity to kiss me with absolutely everything he has. And fuck, does he have a lot.