Chapter 37

Pots boiled around me, the aroma of the garlic and wine sauce, awaiting the mussels, filled the air, and glancing at my phone, I noted the time. Picking up the plates, silverware, and the two wine glasses I’d balanced on the plates, I carried them over to the table I’d set up in the bar area.

Setting out the plates and silverware, I eyeballed the table, then shifting the candles I'd purchased, I stepped back, judging my handy-work. Satisfied at last, with the way everything looked, I returned to the pots and pulled the lobsters out. As they cooled, I prepared citrus butter to brush on them, and then placed the lobsters in the broiler.

When the tails were finally broiling, I washed and pulled the beards off the mussels, then dumped the lot in the prepared pot, setting the timer for five minutes.

An hour and a half later, I finally stood up from the table and blew out the candles. As I stood watching the smoke curl into the air, I debated what I should be feeling. I'd tried calling, as well, texting Torin, but hadn't received anything back for my efforts. I couldn’t really be mad because he hadn’t known of my plans.

Leaning over, I blew out the candles, and as I was picking them up to put away, a loud thump against the wall of the bar and the sound of Torin’s voice had my head jerking up. I gaped at the sight before me; Torin, shirtless, held Sobain against the wall and was diligently in the process of sucking the lips off her face, as hands glued firmly to her ass, he kneaded each buttcheek with his fingers like they were playdough and he was dead set on making sure he molded them to his liking.

A gamut of emotions consumed me as I stood staring at the man I loved, damn near fucking another woman in front of me. Then, everything but anger drained out of me, leaving me cold, shaking, and clutching the candlestick holders in a tight grip within my hand.

Taking several steps in their direction, I raised the holder, planning to slam it up against the back of Torin's head, not giving a shit if it killed him. But before I reached him, the voice of reason presented itself. Though killing Torin was something I truly wanted to do at the moment; I allowed my arm to drop down to my sides.

The candlestick holders fell out of my grasp, and landed on the wooden floor with loud thuds, but I was the only one that noticed the sound, as the couple in front of me had yet to realize they weren't alone within the bar.

Still, without a word, I turned back to the table—and with a quick movement of my arms, I jerked the tablecloth off. Dishes, mussels, and lobster-tails all crashed to the floor. Afterward, turning back around, I noted with irony that I’d finally gotten Torin’s attention.

Marching across the floor, I swept past him and Sobain, sneering at him, “Your supper's on the floor—you can eat it like the dog you are!” Then, head held high, I finished making my way out of the bar.
I held it together all the way to my room—once inside, though, I sank to my butt, and pulling my knees to my chest, I buried my head and sobbed.

TORIN

Save Me by Jelly Roll echoed about my room. With hands clenched in my lap, I sat on the edge of my bed, my head hung and the song resonating deep within me. I’d had to hurt her, to force her away from me. I had to make her hate me. I was getting close, too damn close to finishing this business with my uncle, and what I had to do afterward was going to destroy her.

My gut—hurt. My heart—felt lashed by a cat-o-nine of my own making, but I’d chosen this path early on and there was no going back.

After I’d finally gotten rid of Sobain—not an easy feat—as she'd begun kicking and screaming, calling out words that even had me pausing and staring at her open-mouthed as I shoved her away from me, I’d practically ran out of the bar and left her standing alone, cussing like a sailor.

I'd taken the hallway in a striding gait, then shoving at the door to my room I barreled inside and slammed it shut behind me, a string of cuss words ripping from my mouth.
I’d made out with Sobain with one sole purpose! I'd had to kill Marlowe’s feelings toward me. I'd gotten to the point I'd begun forgetting. Forgetting that this wasn't fairy-fucking wonderland and I’d started playing fucking house with her! But Jesus Christ it had hurt. Head still lowered, a low, painful sob ripped loose from my lips.

MARLOWE

Some people felt that heartache was their destiny, and for me, it seemed it was true.

The fact that Torin had been with Sobain stung like hell. But, what hurt the most—was that he didn't even try to stop me as I'd walked away. Not a blink of the eye or a breath of my name.

Again, I'd shed tears over him. Again, I cursed and wailed all in the name of love, but love was an emotion that one couldn't control. An emotion that wouldn't allow for the cessation of the thrilling within the heart one got every time that special someone walked into the room. Love didn't allow for the stopping of the quivering mass of neediness that I became every time he touched me. However, what I could stop—what I would stop—was allowing him to do it.