“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He laughs, his teeth nibbling on the side of my neck.
“Hunter,” I whimper, because I like it and don’t want him to stop, but we’re in the middle of a restaurant—yet again. “You can’t be horny. There’s no way, after the morning we had. Not to mention the night before!”
“You bring out the animal in me, Katydid,” he murmurs near my ear. “What can I say?”
The waitress comes and takes our order and saves me from responding, which is good because I have no idea what I would say. Once we’re alone again, Torch pulls me around so I can face him in the chair.
“Tell me about Gabby.”
His question surprises me, but Gabby is a topic I love to talk about, so I immediately warm up to the conversation.
“She’s amazing. She has these dark eyes that I swear glow they’re so beautiful. And her laugh. I don’t think there’s a more beautiful sound in the world. She’s quiet. I’ve never seen a child her age so quiet. She watches everything, takes it all in, you know? Plotting and determining. It’s kind of scary, considering she’s just two.”
“Does she talk? What are her favorite things? Tell me.”
I laugh, he seems so eager. Who would have thought he’d want to know about a child?
“She does talk,” I admit. “I mean, not a lot. She’s only two. But she says ‘mom’ and she calls me Kay-Kay. She knows ‘juice’ and ‘nuggets’. She’s always climbing, and she loves when people draw. She watches, entranced. I swear she’s going to be a famous painter someday.”
“You sound like a proud aunt,” he says with a strange look on his face. His hand had been under the table, but he brings it up to run his thumb over my lip.
“You okay?” I ask, sensing something different from him.
Before he can answer, the waitress sets our food down in front of us, breaking the moment.
“Your leg seems better today,” he says, changing the subject after he gets settled. Talking about my leg makes me tense up, as always, so I don’t answer him. “Katie?” he nudges me.
I sigh, staring at my fork for a while before finally answering. “It’s fine. I just … used it too much the last few days.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do we have to talk about this?”
“I want to know. I can’t protect you like I need to, or even take care of you, if I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve seen the scarring, so I’m assuming the leg isn’t going to get better. I just want to understand.”
“You’re a nosey asshole, anyone ever tell you that?” I huff.
“You’re so sweet.”
I roll my eyes, take a breath, and decide to give in and tell him. I don’t especially want to, but I figure, if this makes him react differently to me, it gives me just one more reason not to trust him. Since I’ve caved and pretty much agreed to try to build something with him, it’d be good to know if there’s a reason I shouldn’t. Right? It’s like hedging your bets; you can’t just jump in with both feet into the lake without knowing how deep it is, because you might drown. Bethie and Gabriella are counting on me, so I can’t drown or let them get hurt, no matter what my hormones want from me.
“My leg doesn’t have anything to do with my scars. I grew out of whack. One leg is like an inch or so longer than the other, and my back and hip is… misaligned. It’s no big deal.”
“So the pain comes and goes? There’s nothing they can do?”
The pain is constant, but I don’t tell him that. My leg is a weakness and I’m not about to reveal it. I can’t. I’m also not telling him that my father could’ve taken me to a doctor when I was young and still growing, and help correct things. There’s no point.
“No. It is what it is. Most of the time, I barely know it’s there,” I lie. “My father and grandfather hated it, though,” I admit. “They saw it as a defect and blamed my mother’s blood.”
“Jesus, the family you grew up in,” he growls.
“It was a laugh a minute,” I agree. He doesn’t even know the half of it. “My father couldn’t stand to look at me after he found out. That’s when he started looking for Beth. If I couldn’t represent him in the family as the perfect daughter, perhaps my sister could. So, in a way, all this mess is my fault.”
“Bullshit. Your father is a twisted piece of work, Katydid.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“How did you get the burn scars?”
“You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?”
“Humor me.”
“The snake wanted Bethie away from Skull. Roger came up with a plan and needed my help to see it through.”
“The snake?”
“Oh, sorry. My grandfather. My father might have been evil, but he couldn’t hold a candle to that bastard.”
“How—”
“I think I’ve had enough of this episode of ‘Ask Katie Anything’. How about—”
“Katie. I need you to get up and go to the back of the room where the restroom is,” Torch says, and it’s like someone flipped a switch. His entire body is rigid and his tone is dominating.
“What?”
“Do it now, Katie, and don’t look behind you,” he says, his voice tense.