"That was delicious. Just what I needed." Braxton sits back in his seat looking satisfied. I haven't looked him or Torey in the eye all morning, even though I'd cooked breakfast for the three of us. "I should be going. Thanks for the drinks last night, Torey, and thanks for the breakfast, Brooks." I give him a nod of the head, still staring at my barely touched plate. "Alright, I'll be off. See the two of you, uh, later?" He doesn't linger for a moment longer, just leaves the two of us in our mutual silence.

After a minute Torey growls under his breath, "no need to be so fucking rude." I slowly lift my irritated gaze to his. "No one asked you to cook for us. You didn't have to especially if you're going to look so agitated about it." I push my seat back and stand up, grabbing my plate and Braxton's before discarding them in the sink. "Are you just going to ignore me all morning, or what?" When I don't respond he tacks on, "what are you five years old or something? Just going to give me the fucking silent treatment all day?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just don't want to talk to you? That I don't have the desire to entertain you today?"

"Well, in that case, you'll have your chance to talk to Dani again tonight. So you can stop being so fucking butthurt about not being able to talk to her."

I whirl around on him with, "what? You didn't tell me they were going to be calling in again tonight."

"You didn't really let me tell you anything before you threw your temper tantrum and left yesterday. You fucked up the driveway, royally, I may add." I really did though but only a small part of me feels bad about it.

"You would know temper tantrums, Tor. You are the king of throwing them." He rolls his eyes at me as he stands up and brings his plate to the sink, standing next to me now. "Tristan is calling tonight?"

"Yeah, he's calling around nine. I still have to let my father know." I grimace at him because instead of telling anyone anything he'd just got drunk with Braxton. Instead of calling me, coming after me, he'd chosen to do that. "Where the hell did you go last night?"

"None of your business." Since it's not like he really gives a shit anyway. He didn't last night.

"And what the fuck is this?" Torey grabs ahold of my chin in a nearly painful fashion, cocking my head to the left side as he assesses my neck. "Who the fuck gave you the hickey?"

"It's not a hickey. I scratched myself." He crosses his arms over his chest, looking at me like he doesn't believe me. "It isn't a hickey."

"Why won't you tell me where you went then?" He's starting to look angry— really angry. I don't feel like dealing with this version of Torey right now. "Brooks?"

"I went out for a drive to clear my head. Luke knows this guy who owns a place where you test drive fast luxury cars. I went out and took my car for a spin." Where I could do so legally, that is. Punching those kind of speeds and doing some of the moves I had been on the street would've ended up with me in jail, if they could catch me, that is.

"You went for a drive?" He eyes me in disbelief. "That's it?"

"I don't answer to you, Torey."

He steps into my personal space, "but don't you?"

"No," I push against his chest, "I don't."

"Oh, that's right, you're done with me." Looking over Torey I know that no, I am not done with him but sometimes I really want to be. The man is so goddamn infuriating. "You done?" I grit my jaw and look away from him. "Hmm?" He leans down to the left side of my neck and nips the skin there. The man hardly plays fair.

"I'm still mad at you but no Torey, I am not done with you."

"What can I do to make it better?"

He nips the skin again which has me letting out a frustrated sigh of, "stop trying to seduce me."

"Who said I'm trying to seduce you?"

I turn my head back toward him but can't fully because of our proximity. Our jaws rub against one another's. "This. This would suggest that seducing is exactly what you are trying to do to me." He pulls away slightly, giving me a knowing smirk. "And that look confirms it." Those blues dance lustfully for the first time since I'd seen them do so in the shower. After that experience neither of us had tried to start anything with one another sexually. And only after one night of sleeping in the same bed had Torey gone back to sleeping in his own.

"Do you want me to say I'm sorry?" I give him no response, just look back off to my right, out the window. I can't focus properly. "Fine, if that's what you want then I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a, oh, what was it you called me? Ah yes, a selfish fucking prick."

"I never called you a prick."

"You may as well have."

"You were being one so I suppose you're right." I shake my head, still not looking at him as I stare out at a palm tree. "I wish you would think of someone else's feelings other than your own, think of someone other than yourself." I wish you would think about me, my feelings. I swallow uncomfortably not wanting to state that. "Instead you got yourself hung up on by Tristan. You flipped me off, not giving a shit, then got wasted with Braxton." Which meant I had to take care of two very large and very drunk men. He pulls away from me, allowing me the space to look back at him.

"Like I said— I'm sorry." He cups the back of his neck uncomfortably in deliberation. That has me curious. "You're right, I was being selfish. I should've thought about if you wanted to talk to Dani or if she wanted to talk to you. Just, uh, to be honest..." He spears that hand that'd been around his neck through his hair before his gaze finds the floor. "It was the first time since I'd seen her since everything went down and she just looked so..." His lips purse. "It's my fault. This whole thing. Everything going on with my family, my mom, Dani, my son. It's all my fucking fault. Everything. And looking at Dani for the first time in so long felt like the first time I saw her back when she was in Seattle. It's like a repeat performance of some other guy getting to be with her when I have never been able to be. Both of those opportunities stolen from me. Taken. And not only that, Brooks," Torey looks up to me brokenly, "he's getting to play father to my son. He has spent more time with my kid than I ever have. Now he's engaged to her? Fucking engaged? All of that shit... I just..." Both those hands find their way into his raven-colored locks. "I didn't know how to fucking handle it. I still don't."

"You've taken the first step." When he quirks a brow I add, "you talked to me about your feelings. I would say that is a pretty significant first step."

✩✩✩

The day had been filled with nothing other than training and hard. Between me, Luke, Denver, and Torey there was not much conversation to be had either. It was all about form, stance, and fixing what could be a potential weakness, not that between the four of us there was much of any. And for anyone who had their doubts about Torey making a full recovery then they would be proven sorely wrong.

Torey trained just as hard, if not harder, than I had ever seen him. Even in moments where I knew he was experiencing brutal pain, it's like he harnessed and embraced it. Knowing Torey the way I do I would say that each sting, each ache, any single thing that made that man feel weak, he wanted to deliver it tenfold to whoever his opponent may be— like he was savoring the experience and saving it for someone else. For the majority of the day that someone else had been me and a part of me knew that Torey was keeping a good portion of that raging internal torment back. There was a fundamental piece he was withholding for that ultimate volcanic eruption.

Whoever had this particular brand of vengeance coming from Torey I don't even have the least bit of compassion for. Knowing he would use all of that anguish on the metaphorical field of battle somehow made me feel comforted. Because when Torey gets in this headspace he is ruthless, calculated, and precise in the tactics of getting exactly what he wants.

Right about now, the man is currently shoving a giant piece of steak in his mouth. He's eating like a ravenous animal. Denver has grilled up some New York strips that are just about to die for. It's kind of nice having another person around who can cook on my level of expectation.

The French doors that lead outside has everyone looking up to see Braxton coming towards us. He's looking frustrated and I can only come to gather that it has something to do with Adriana. Him getting drunk with Torey last night combined with his current state would suggest that she is not buying whatever he's selling.

"Are you hungry?" Luke asks as Braxton sits down at the table next to him. The act has Denver glaring between the two of them.

"No, thank you though. I'm not very hungry."

"For the time being, I think it would be best for you to stay with us, Braxton." Luke's words have Denver choking on the last of his steak.

Braxton looks at Denver with, "no, no, I can stay at my own place. I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense."

"He just tried to kill you the other day and now you're suggesting for him to move into the house?!" Luke pays Denver's words no mind, just finishes up his meal with a wipe of the lips with his napkin. "You've been into some interesting shit before but this—"

"This isn't like that Denver and it has nothing to do with me but has to do with getting Malyssa home safely along with Wolf and Daniela. Braxton's safety is key to that considering he is our link to Tristan." Luke sets his cutlery down and then looks at Denver directly. "If you could please get over yourself it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for the meal." He stands up and excuses himself before walking away to answer a call.

"Have you fixed shit with my daughter yet?" Denver grits out after a long uncomfortable minute.

Torey lets out a loud laugh, "yeah right, dad. You know she's going to be stewing over this shit for the foreseeable future."

Before Denver can give a retort Braxton adds, "not yet, sir, but I plan on it. I promise I will." Denver nods before excusing himself from the table and heading off after Luke.

"Your dad fucking hates me."

"No, Denver doesn't hate you, he is just overly protective." My eyes shift to Torey. "Kind of like someone else I know." He makes a face at me. "To be fair, you did point a gun at Luke, you know, his husband so..."

"I don't know," Braxton cups his chin with a long breath, "it all just seems too coincidental for my mother to be in a hit and run after she had explicitly told me about everything."

"You don't think she was coerced, do you?" Torey suggests. Braxton deliberates silently for a moment. "When she told you did she seem genuinely scared? You know, as if someone had recently threatened her?"

"Now that you say that, yeah, I suppose she did. It was at the time of my brother's eighteenth birthday and my mother seemed genuinely worried. She spoke as if she wasn't going to be around for long and then..." And then she died.

"This all seems to be lining up a bit too perfectly," I interject which has both Torey and Braxton nodding in agreement. "I don't think it was an accident. I think we've got someone else in play here."

"Tatyana," Braxton mutters out.

"What about her?"

"She was the one who told my brother that Luke killed everyone in my family, that he wanted all of the Marlings dead."

"Taty has always been a player behind the scenes." Torey sits back in his chair. "She knew about Dani and I, my family. Something also tells me she was working with my boss in the agency."

"You think she's involved?"

"No, I know she is."

A/N:
Happy Friyay!

Thoughts?