Till It Hurts by Cora Brent
Jace
Now
She’s right.
My grandmother would not be proud of me right now. I think I needed to hear that said out loud for it to sink in.
I’ve been acting like a spoiled prick. Worse, I’ve been cruel. Fucking hateful. I drove halfway across the country for the sole purpose of tormenting a girl I once loved. The only girl I’ve ever loved. A girl who’s now a woman and obviously just trying like hell to keep her head above water while dealing with her own issues. I’ve allowed my bitter pride to turn her into a villain inside my head. I’m everything the foulest tabloids accuse me of being; arrogant and rude and obnoxious and selfish.
Tori isn’t the villain here. I am.
And no, Gloria would not be proud.
The thing is, I didn’t plan for tears. Or perhaps I assumed I’d be immune to the sight of hers. Tori nearly choked on her own sobs as she ran out of the room. She was running to get away from me. She was crying because of me. This wasn’t the first time I’d been the cause of Tori’s tears and fuck knows she’s given me cause to shed some of my own. Some of the things that happened between us carved deep wounds that remain unhealed but that’s not the point. There’s no excuse for the way I’m treating her now. There just isn’t. Lately I’ve been acting like…
My father.
McClane rests his head on my knee and whines softly as if he’s commiserating. I rub his ears. “She’ll be back later.”
After all, Tori has to come back. She left all her stuff here and by her own admission she doesn’t have anywhere else to live. Remembering that makes me feel even shittier. I couldn’t even show her a little bit of humanity, all because I’m mad that she still has the power to make my dick hard without even trying.
While Tori was in the shower I tried to cobble together some sort of an apology but she didn’t want to hear it and I can’t blame her. We were playing a nasty back and forth game of ugly words. I didn’t even mean the things I said. For all I know, she didn’t mean anything she said either.
McClane needs to take a trip to the backyard and barks at me until I follow and open the back door. He loves this backyard. He’s used to either the immaculately landscaped grounds of the Long Island house or the thick brush of the woods where he’s never allowed to stray very far. A fenced in, overgrown yard that’s full of undiscovered treasures is the stuff of his dog dreams.
To my eyes, the backyard is actually in pretty sorry shape. Mowing the grass was my job from the time I was ten and while I know it’s been done since I left, it’s also clear that no one has been near the task in quite a while. At least not since Gloria’s death. The garden that she would always tend to with such care is also a mess. Remnants of tomato plant stalks and summer squash vines litter the dirt. She was probably intending to tear all that out and prep the winter garden when she died. My grandmother was always looking ahead to her next garden crops. She counted every season as a new beginning and it’s a shame to see the state of the place now. I could hire someone to come in here and clean up the yard today but I’d rather do the work myself. Later. Right now I’ve got a few other chores in mind.
McClane is glad to be left to his backyard exploration while I shower. I’m mildly ashamed when my hand drifts down to my dick and beats away while thinking of Tori. Walking into the living room this morning to the sight of her making herself come just about broke me. I haven’t been in danger of creaming my pants like that in a hell of a long time. Every instinct told me to run over there, rip the sheets off and put my mouth all over her body. That would have been a far better start to the morning than acting like a clown and making her cry.
My cock is in my palm and my thumb trails over the throbbing tip. I hear myself groan as I flash back to the way Tori’s hips bucked while her hands worked between her legs. She was so into it her eyes were closed and I’m positive that when she panted out, “Jace, fuck yeah, Jace,” she had no clue those words had left her lips.
But me? I’ll probably be jerking off to that memory until my dick quits working.
There’s a ton of baggage between us and I haven’t forgotten that. Yet despite everything, I still want to fuck her hard and dirty and then slow and sinful. I want to taste every inch of her and make her come with my mouth. I wasn’t lying when I said that I get random women trying to get naked with me all the freaking time. On rare occasions I’m tempted enough to drop my pants and sometimes it’s even hot but I’m never really satisfied in the end.
Tori Malene remains my weakness. Physically, she’s still my ideal. What can I say? Boyhood daydreams refuse to die.
Speaking of daydreams, in the one I’m currently occupied with, Tori is riding my cock while I suck her tits and she moans when I pull her hair a little. “Jace, fuck yeah, Jace,” she pants, in the same breathy whisper she used this morning while she came using her hand.
My cock is ready to explode and I replay that sound in my head again. “Jace, fuck yeah, Jace.” Then, with a thick groan, I come all over the slippery wall of the shower.
I need a few minutes to catch my breath and then I soap up and rinse off. My head feels a little clearer now that I’ve gotten one urge temporarily taken care of. It’s not as good as the real thing would be but it’ll have to be enough. Just because I feel sorry about the way I’ve been acting doesn’t mean I’m going to give in and make a move. Under no circumstances is it a good idea for me to touch Tori Malene. I’m stuck with shower time fuck fantasies, now and forever.
Tori left no hints about how long she’d be gone but I think it’s a safe bet she’ll have no desire to return here until she has to. Thinking about this makes me feel bad again. She’s probably just about out of cash. Hell, I could give her whatever money she needs and never miss a dime but I’m positive she’d refuse the offer and would likely be offended that I’d made it.
So far this morning my only breakfast has been a blended protein drink so I sit down to a bowl of cornflakes at the kitchen table and mull over the Tori problem.
I could just pack up and leave her in peace. Maybe that’s what I should do. But it’s the coward’s way out. Besides, somehow I’m uneasy about leaving her on her own. Because she really is on her own. I’m sure of it. Her father died about six or seven years ago. Her mother’s a nutty bitch who always treated her daughter like crap. And I have no clue what’s going on with Colt but he’s apparently not part of the picture either. If Tori had any real friends or a boyfriend back in California they would have helped her out before she had to take the drastic step of returning to Arcana.
Most importantly, there’s Gloria to think about. Gloria, the person Tori likely would have turned to in desperate times, is gone. My grandmother loved Tori. She would want me to make sure Tori was taken care of.
McClane scratches at the back door. When I let him in, his nose is covered in mud and his tail wags with joy. He tolerates being cleaned off with a towel and then dives into his bowl to gobble up the food he didn’t finish last night.
While the dog is enjoying a date with his food dish, I stray to the living room in search of anything that might be a clue to Tori’s problems. I’m sure she’s not telling the truth about a car accident, but it’s clear that she’s gone through some shit. She’s got that faint scar on her face, a scar that clearly makes her both self-conscious and anxious.
I feel myself grimacing as I scan her meager belongings. There’s not much and I’m getting depressed over the thought that the sum of her life has been stuffed into four suitcases, three boxes and some random odds and ends. Maybe she’s in some legal trouble. That doesn’t seem likely, given that Tori was never one to thumb her nose at the law, but you never know. Something’s gone very wrong and she’s unwilling to come clean about what it is.
This leads to another, more ominous, idea.
Perhaps she wasn’t running away from something but someone.
I’m surprised by the surge of protective anger in my gut over the thought that someone might have physically harmed her. I regret my failure to consider this possibility earlier. Whatever my past issues with Tori, I would never want to behave in a way that would make her feel unsafe and I’m afraid that I might have.
The thought is disconcerting and I swallow hard. My grandparents observe me from a faded wedding photo that sits atop the piano. Or at least my grandfather does. In the picture, he’s got his arm around his young bride and he stares straight into the camera as she gazes lovingly up at him. The original Jacek Zielinski was, by all accounts, a supremely decent and hardworking family man who could be counted on by friends and neighbors alike. My father must have been something of a disappointment to him. And even though he didn’t live long enough to leave an impression on my memory, I don’t want to be a disappointment to him as well.
After locating my phone, I dial the number of my agent, who I’ve been dodging for weeks and owe a hell of an apology to.
“Hey, Mike. Yeah, I’m extremely sorry for leaving you hanging on the contract question. I won’t stay out of reach again and I promise to have an answer for you and for the team real soon. But right now I could use your help. I need to get some information on someone.”
Mike Campinelli listens while I briefly outline the situation, leaving out the most personal details. I know I don’t need to add that discretion is required. Turns out he knows a guy who can handle this sort of job. Of course he does. Mike knows everyone. He says he’ll get right on it and I should be receiving a call by tomorrow at the latest. He extracts one final promise that I’ll make good on my word and give him an answer on the contract with the Lions. Then he asks me if I was aware that my teammate Leon Chaps has suffered a setback that involved bleeding in the brain and surgery. He’s currently in a coma. I did not know that. I haven’t checked my voicemails since returning to Arcana and I’ve avoided the internet. The news about Leon guts me. Mike says he’ll call with an update if he hears of any changes in Leon’s status.
For a few minutes I just sit there on the couch and stare off into space. I don’t know why terrible things have to happen to good people. This is one of those times when if feel like there’s zero logic or balance in the world.
My dog pads into the room and sniffs Tori’s suitcases.
“Don’t chew anything,” I warn him. “That doesn’t belong to us.”
The look he throws me seems indignant, as if the thought of destroying property would never occur to him. He makes himself comfortable in the corner where he preferred to sleep last night and watches as I tidy up the living room a little bit. I straighten the couch cushions, stack Tori’s boxes against the wall and fold up her blankets more neatly than she had folded them. I still don’t get why she won’t sleep in Gloria’s room. This doesn’t look like a comfortable setup.
Speaking of my grandmother’s bedroom, it remains exactly as it was the day she died. Paul Elkins has asked if I want any help sorting through her personal effects and I don’t. It still feels wrong to rummage through her things. I don’t know how much time needs to pass until that changes.
So far I haven’t managed to get beyond the doorway, which is where I’m standing now as I survey the cozy room. My grandmother slept here from the time she was a young newlywed until she died. The room is a showcase of her personality with her vibrant handmade quilts hanging on the walls and colorful trinkets, crystals and sentimental objects cluttering every furniture surface. Along the window opposite her bed there’s a dark wood bookcase that was built by my grandfather. Instead of books it’s filled with photo albums. I used to page through them sometimes when I was a kid. I would pay special attention to the ones from my dad’s childhood. The good looking, popular kid pictured in his carefree youth had little in common with the resentful, detached man who eventually fathered me. During two of his years on the Arcana High football team he played in the state championship game, along with Tori’s dad.
Funny, my dad and Eric Malene were good friends at one time but I’m sure I never saw them exchange two words with each other. I remember seeing one picture of my dad in his football jersey, flanked by fellow teammates Eric Malene and Clay Hempstead. I asked my grandmother if the gossip was true, if Clay Hempstead was really the son of infamous murderer Billy Hempstead and a shadow fell over her face before she nodded and said yes he was and yes, she remembered when Richard and Nancy Chapel were murdered but it’s not something she ever wants to talk about.
There must be tons of photos of Tori and Colt in those albums. Colt and I were basically joined at the hip, raising hell together from the day we met. And when Tori wasn’t running around with us, she pretty much lived over here. If a stranger were just thumbing through those albums without knowing better, he’s probably just assume Gloria had two more grandchildren.
Right now I kind of wish I knew where I could find Colt. I wonder if he’s aware of anything that’s going on with his sister. From the way Tori was talking, the answer is no.
After gently closing the door to Gloria’s room, I have another call to make. Paul Elkins says he’ll be glad to meet right now. Even though it’s Saturday, he’s in his office and his afternoon calendar is wide open.
It’s only when I’m pulling up in front of the strip mall where Elkins Law is prominently featured that I realize I’ve forgotten my disguise. It’s a lucky thing that the only person in sight is Chief Radcliff. The guy was past his expiration date back when I was in high school. When he glances over from where he sits in his parked cruiser two spaces away, there’s nothing in his stoic expression that indicates he remembers who I am. I wave my hand in a friendly way and he goes back to what he was doing, which is staring at a newspaper while gnawing on a long stick of jerky.
Paul Elkins is alone in his office and he wastes no time offering me a seat across from his gigantic oak desk.
“You’re not surprised to see me in town.” The leather-backed chair creaks under my weight.
He shakes a mint out of an Altoids tin and pops it in his mouth before offering me one. “My granddaughter said you called a few days back. She seemed to think you’d show up here. Are you staying at Gloria’s?”
“Yes.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Then I guess you’ve run into Tori Malene.”
I meet his eye without flinching. “I have.”
There’s no telling how much he knows about my history with Tori. He was a longtime friend and confidante of my grandmother’s.
Paul leans back in his chair. “How’s Tori doing? On the occasions that I spoke with her she sounded upset.”
“She’s glad to be back in town.” I doubt that’s true. “She needs a job, though.” At least that part is accurate.
“I see,” he says, clearly wondering why I’m not willing to part with a few nickels out of my millions and help out an old friend.
I decide to level with him, at least partially. “She would never agree to accept any money from me.”
He thinks about that and nods. “Tori has asked if I know anyone who’s hiring, but the job market in Arcana is rather weak these days.”
My fingers tap my knee as my mind works, sorting through possibilities.
A solution presents itself and I snatch it.
“You know what, Paul? I’ve been thinking about retaining an attorney in the area.”
He’s confused. “I’m sure you’ve got a team of attorneys at your disposal, Jace.”
“I really need someone local to ah, help with some real estate deals I’ve been considering.” The idea of buying up local real estate has never crossed my mind. I just made it up.
Paul is becoming interested. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what your going rate is, but does a retainer of a hundred grand sound fair to handle any local business I might have?”
He nearly chokes on his breath mint. He has to take a sip of water and then he leans back in his chair to give me a long, quiet appraisal. “Jace, I’m glad to handle any local transactions on the horizon but I think you know that’s a bit more than the going rate.”
I keep a straight face. “Well, I’m not sure how much trouble this is all going to be. You might need to hire some additional staff to help out.”
The deep lines in his forehead smooth out slightly as the unspoken tradeoff dawns on him. “If I were to open up such a position, I wonder if Tori Malene would be interested. It’s probably not exactly what she’s looking for, but maybe she’d consider it.”
“I’m sure she would. And in case you didn’t know, Tori’s damn smart.”
Paul grins. “I remember Gloria saying that too. It’ll be nice to have someone capable around here. My granddaughter is a sweet girl but unfortunately she gets her brains from her mother’s side of the family.” He scribbles something down on the large paper desk calendar in front of him. “Tell Tori she can start on Monday.”
“I’ll let my accountant know to call you to arrange the wire transfer for the retainer. But the job offer needs to come from you. Tori can’t know that I was involved in any way.”
“All right then.” He clicks his pen. “I will give her a call later today.”
“Glad this all worked out.” I get to my feet and stick my hand out. “Look forward to doing business with you.”
He shakes my hand and studies my face. “I haven’t gotten a chance to say this but that was a hell of a game. The whole town went nuts, setting off fireworks and blasting their car horns.”
I have to smile at the image. “Must have been quite the spectacle.”
He smiles back. “You know, I take a lot of pride in being able to say that I’ve known you since you were born. Every afternoon your grandparents used to walk you in the stroller right past my window here. Often I’d go out to say hello and both Jacek and Gloria were just over the moon about their tiny grandson.”
I’m confused. It’s true that I was born in Arcana but the story I got from my father was that this was something of an accident. My mother’s due date wasn’t supposed to be for weeks and my folks happened to be visiting when she went into labor. They wouldn’t have stuck around for very long so it doesn’t seem possible that Paul Elkins saw me being wheeled past his office window every day.
Still, the picture he painted is a nice one and I want to know more. Maybe when I was a baby my parents brought me on a long vacation to Arcana that I never heard about, although that seems unlikely. The rift between my dad and his parents dates back to my infancy and Gloria was always tight lipped about the reason. I recall nothing of being here until my father dumped me on Gloria’s doorstep and by then my grandfather had been dead for years.
“I wish I had some memories of my grandfather,” I say.
Paul grows wistful as he gazes into a window of the past. “Jacek was just starting to get sick around the time your parents decided to move away again.”
He has no idea that his comment has just stirred up some disquiet in my belly. To my knowledge, at no time during their marriage did my parents ever live in Arcana. Then again, any information I have was filtered through my father. And no one knows better than me what a goddamn lying bastard my father is. “I’ve never heard much about that. How long did they stay here in town?”
Paul chews the remnants of his mint as he thinks. “The way I remember it, your dad was laid off and your mother was pregnant with you so they moved in with Gloria and Jacek until they could get back on their feet. They left when you were about five or six months old.”
I can’t explain why I’ve never heard about any of this before. Perhaps it has something to do with my grandfather’s cancer diagnosis. That whole span of time might have been too painful for Gloria to talk about. As for my father, his reasons for keeping secrets have never made much sense.
Paul is still in the midst of reminiscing. “You were a happy little thing, always smiling and laughing out loud. Often when Gloria and Jacek took you on your walks they also had a stroller with little Tori Malene inside. They used to babysit for her all the time because her daddy was deployed somewhere on the other side of the world and her mother…” Paul trails off and clears his throat, suddenly red-faced. “Well, anyway, your little neck was always craning around in search of Tori. She was just a few months older than you, but you know that already.”
“Six months,” I say, looking out the same window and trying to picture the scene. “She’s exactly six months older. And then her brother Colt is exactly six months younger than me.”
“That’s right.” Paul becomes suddenly and strangely uneasy. I could swear that his trip down memory lane has dislodged something he hasn’t thought about in a long time. Something he doesn’t especially want to think about now.
He shuffles some papers on his desk. “Well, Jace, looks like we’ll be talking a lot in the future. Let me know when you’re ready to start moving on some of that real estate.”
“Will do.” I shake his hand again and leave him to his paper shuffling.
Radcliff’s cruiser is gone but now there’s a squad of a four young boys hanging around in front of the boarded up hardware store. They’re probably around twelve or so and they’re all carrying giant soda cups from the gas station.
“Holy shit!” One of them points. “Is that Jace fucking Zielinski?”
I wave at them but they just kind of stand there gaping at me the way one might do if confronted with the sight of a tiger outside of its cage. With a snort of laughter, I eye them in the rearview mirror as I drive away. They’re all gesturing with excitement and snapping pics with their phone now. I try to imagine how me and Colt would have reacted at that age if we’d spotted one of our heroes walking around town. We probably wouldn’t have had the balls to do a thing except freeze in our tracks and gawk like those kids. But if Tori was with us the situation would have been very different. She would have marched right up and started talking. Tori feared nothing.
Now that I’ve been spotted, it won’t take long for everyone in town to hear the news that I’m around. I have no problem with signing autographs for the locals but I’m not looking forward to the stalkers who haunt the bushes on a quest to snap a photo of me buying milk at the grocery store. That gets infuriating real fucking fast and my patience level isn’t real high to begin with.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to process Paul’s revelations about my parents and their long term stay in Arcana. There must be a connection between whatever happened during the months they lived in my grandparents’ house and the reason my father refused to have much to do with them after that.
As for my mother, there’s no telling what her role might have been. She was born into a rich family in Peru. They lost all their money in a real estate scandal while she was in her teens and both her parents died soon after that. She traveled to Texas on a student visa and met my father at UT Austin where he played football until a series of injuries sidelined him for good. They married too hastily and too young and their marriage was not a good one. My early memories are hazy but I remember that much. I even remember crawling into my closet in the middle of the night with my pillow because I was trying to find a quiet place where I couldn’t hear the two of them screaming at each other.
These particular old memories bring other uncomfortable ones to the surface and I don’t want to dwell on them right now so I don’t. What I want to do is stop by the church that my grandmother used to bring me to. The only Catholic church in Arcana is a comfortable, aging brick structure at the intersection of Sagebrush and Laredo. I’m not religious and the only time I’ve been inside a church building over the last decade is for Gloria’s funeral. However, since my grandmother was devoted to this church I’ve already forked over a hefty donation for their youth program in her memory.
Mrs. Solis, who works in the rectory, happens to be thumbtacking some flyers to the bulletin board when I walk in. She’s delighted to see me and says that Gloria would be overjoyed to know that I’m here and would I like to speak to Father Garcia? I would not, as I tell her politely. Perhaps another time.
Mrs. Solis leaves me in peace as I step over to add a few candles to the rows of tiny flames already burning. I light a candle for my friend Leon and send out a quick prayer for him to heal. And I light one to honor my grandparents.
Finally, I light a candle for Tori Malene, for no other reason than instinct tells me she needs someone to do that for her right now.