Chapter 199: Chapter 199
Tor POV
Kyra ~ age fourteen
Tor ~ age twenty-nine
"Kyra Callis?"
I look up from the test I'm taking at the woman standing at the door of my classroom saying my name. I recognize her as working in the principal’s office.
"Can you come with me?" she asks when we make eye contact.
"Um... okay."
The other kids in my class watch me as I shove my book in my backpack and grab my bag. Some of them whisper as I make my way through the desks to the door. My teacher takes my test from me as I near her desk.
"Don't worry about the test, Kyra. You can make it up."
"Is something wrong?" I ask the woman as soon as I get out into the hall. "Did I do something?"
"No, nothing like that. Your aunt and uncle are here."
My aunt and uncle?
As we walk down the empty hall toward the office, Uncle Toren and Aunt Sydni come into view, waiting for me in the front lobby. I can tell immediately by their somber faces that something is very wrong.
"Kyra..."
Aunt Sydni says, taking a few steps forward. "There's been an accident. Your grandmother asked us to come get you."
My breath hitches in my throat and my blood goes cold as my mind flips through the rolodex of everyone I love... Mommy, Daddy, Gram, Great-Gram, Pop, Chloe, Talon, Storm, Rayne, Lukas, Mikah, Katherine, Vandal.
"Wh-What do you mean?" I ask, searching both of their faces.
Uncle Tor pulls me into his arms and hugs me tightly, his breathing ragged. He's got grease on his clothes, hands, and a smudge on his face, meaning he came right from work without any time to change or wash. And Aunt Sydni's wearing sweatpants and no makeup like she just got out of bed. It's clear they came here to get me in a rush.
"What happened?" I ask, my face still buried in Tor's chest. "Who is it?"
"It's your mom," he says. He pulls me away to look into my eyes, his hands moving to my shoulders, squeezing them gently. "I'm sorry, Angel. It's not good. We're going to take you to the hospital. Everyone is there."
His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and so are Aunt Sydni's, meaning they were both crying before they got here. Now they're wearing fake, weak smiles, trying not to worry me, but I can tell something awful has happened.
As Aunt Sydni signs the form to take me out of school, I cling to Uncle Tor, my body shaking uncontrollably. I want to ask what happened but I can't get my mouth to work.
"Is she dead?" I finally forced out in a hoarse whisper.
"No, sweetheart. But I can't lie to you... it's bad," he says. His strong arms go around me again. "I promise I'll stay with you. We'll get through this together. Everything will be okay."
\---
Tor
During the ride back home, her hand slips under the front of my shirt and rests against the skin right above the waistband of my jeans, every so often feathering up toward my chest or across my rib cage, slowly exploring me. I should tell her no groping when we're riding but I'm enjoying her touch way too much to make her stop. On the easy, straight roads I reach back and run my hand down the outside of her leg. Her thighs squeeze tighter around me as she presses her body closer to mine.
We pull over at an ice cream stand so she can use the restroom, and then sit at a picnic table to enjoy ice cream cones in the shade. We watch a couple with triplets who look to be about five years old attempt to eat theirs, but end up mostly wearing them. We can't stop ourselves from laughing and the mother laughs with us.
"Wait ‘til you two have your own," she says jokingly.
Christ. They think we're a couple. Maybe the age difference between us isn't as visibly obvious as I thought it was.
"Do you still want kids, Tor?" Kyra asks.
When I turn away from the messy little kids to answer her, her tongue is swirling around the vanilla ice cream, her lips all creamy, and my brain short circuits watching her. I'd do anything to have her lips and her tongue on my cock just like that. Or anywhere on my body.
"Earth to Tor?" she says, giggling, nudging my leg with her boot.
"Huh?"
I drag my eyes away from her mouth. "Kids?"
"Yeah."
"Someday, yeah."
"You'd make a great dad."
"Think so?"
"Definitely. Look how good you were with me all the time when I was little."
No. I can't think about that. Thinking about that makes me feel sick and twisted. I can't think about shoving my cock into her mouth one minute and then remElaraing rocking her to sleep when she was a baby the next.
Standing, I throw the rest of my cone in a garbage can buzzing with flies. What the fuck am I doing with her? Why am I playing with fire and tempting us both with something we can't have? I wonder if I should see a therapist about this mess I've got myself into, to help me figure out if what I'm doing is completely fucked up or if it's actually acceptable if we both want it. And we're both consenting adults now. And we love each other.
But she's still my best friend’s daughter. Regardless of all those other things, that fact will never, ever change.