“Real life doesn’t work that way. I wish it did, believe me. I want that more than I’ve ever fuckin’ wanted anything.”

“Then just do it,” she begs. “For me?”

Of course. I’d do anything for her. So I agree.

We tossed our two tarnished pennies into the water while we stood on the edge of the river, holding onto each other’s hands for dear life and wished (make that begged) to live happily ever after. Together.

I didn’t realize when we first sat down that this is the exact place where her own parents’ fairytale ended, or I never would have brought their daughter here. I would have kept walking further up the mountain if I had realized it sooner.

23

Tor

Kenzi ~ age fourteen

Tor ~ age twenty-nine

“Kenzi Valentine?” 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 whispering 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, Kenzi. 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 towards 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.

“Kenzi…” 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…MommyDaddyGramGreatGramPopChloeTalonStormRayneLukasMikahKatherineVandal.

“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 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 force in a hoarse whisper.

“No, sweetheart. But I can’t lie to you…it’s bad,” 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 towards 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 squeezing 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?” Kenzi 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.