Page 16

16: Blaze

I storm through the door, fists clenched, heart hammering like a fucking war drum. My vision tunnels straight to Gabe, standing way too fucking close to Tori, and my rage boils over.

I don’t think. I just move.

My fist is halfway to his face when Tori throws herself between us, hands splayed against my chest. “Stop!” she yells, her voice sharp, panicked.

My breathing is ragged, my muscles coiled tight. My gaze burns into Gabe over her shoulder. He’s too calm. Too fucking steady. Like he knew I would try to hit him but couldn't give two fucks about it.

“What the hell did you do to her?” My voice is a growl, low and lethal.

When it was well past time for her to be home, I decided to track her phone. Thinking the worst, I came straight here without any backup, because Ryder was too fucking wasted to wake up, his pants halfway down like he tried to slip into bed but passed out before he could get down to his boxers.

Gabe doesn’t flinch. He just stands there, completely unfazed. “Nothing,” he says evenly. “She saw something she shouldn't have and needed space. So I made sure she had it."

Space . That word grates against my skull like nails on glass. “Space from what? Because the only person she needs space from is you! Always lingering behind her, trying to stay close even when we’re home.” My hands shake as I fight every instinct screaming at me to grab Tori and get her the hell away from him.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Tori snaps, shoving at my chest. “I asked him to bring me here.”

I freeze.

The anger doesn’t leave, but it shifts. My jaw clenches, my stomach tightens, and suddenly, I really look at her.

Her eyes are red-rimmed. Her hands shake but just barely. She’s standing strong, but there’s a fragility to her, like she’s one wrong breath away from falling apart.

My chest tightens. “Tori,” I say, softer now. “What happened?”

She looks away, her throat bobbing. That hesitation, that sliver of doubt flickering across her face—it guts me. She doesn’t want to tell me, and that hurts more than anything.

Fuck .

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling hard. “You know you can tell me anything, Tori. Basement rules.”

Her lips part, something in her expression cracking at the words, but I don’t push. I just wait. And finally, she tells me.

“I saw Thorne,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “And Mia. She kissed him.”

It’s like something inside me snaps.

I go completely still. The rage is instant—hot, searing, fucking consuming .

“What?” My voice is dangerously quiet.

Tori swallows hard. “I saw her. She kissed him. And he—he didn’t pull away. And then…” she hesitates, her voice cracking. “And then I found Ryder. With Lila.”

My blood goes ice cold.

Lila? She wasn't around when I got home, so was it before that?

I don’t need to hear more. My body moves on its own, every nerve locked onto a single objective: get to Ryder and beat him within an inch of his life. Then do the same to Thorne when he shows up.

I turn toward the door, but Tori grabs me.

“Blaze, no .”

Her grip is tight on my arm, her nails digging into my skin. My heart slams against my ribs. She looks up at me, wide-eyed, desperate.

“I can’t—I can’t do this right now,” she whispers, voice raw. “I can’t go back there and deal with this. I just—I don’t have it in me.”

I stare at her, my own fury pressing against my ribs like a knife. I want to wreck them. Make them bleed. But she’s shaking. And she never shakes.

She comes first.

Always.

My teeth clench, but I breathe through it. Force myself to listen.

“You don’t have to face them alone,” I tell her, voice low. “You might not feel like you have the strength right now, but I know you do.”

She blinks up at me, something unreadable in her expression. She nods once, almost imperceptibly, but then—

“I need Gabe to come, too.”

My stomach drops.

I jerk back, recoiling like she just fucking slapped me. “You want him to come?” My voice is sharp, incredulous.

Tori nods, eyes pleading. “I need someone to be able to take me away, if it turns out I'm not as strong as you give me credit for."

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.

I hate this. I hate every fucking part of this.

But I look at her. At the way she’s barely holding herself together. At the cracks she’s trying to hide, and I fucking hate that this is what it’s come to .

I force myself to breathe. To swallow my goddamn pride.

“Fine,” I grit out. “But he stays at least six feet away from you."

Gabe doesn’t react, just gives a silent nod.

I shoot him a look that makes it clear—one wrong move and I will end him.

Tori exhales, like she’s finally releasing some of the pressure crushing her chest. And fuck , I want to reach for her. I want to hold her, fix this, erase whatever the hell they just did to her. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until she knows—really knows—how much I really love her. How I would pick her over anyone. Anyone.

“Let’s go,” I mutter, turning toward the door.

Because I will get her through this.

And Ryder and Thorne are about to fucking pay for hurting our girl.

The drive back is too quiet. Tori sits in the passenger seat, her arms crossed, her nails digging into her sleeves. Her eyes are locked on the road ahead, but I can tell she’s not really seeing it. Her mind is somewhere else. Somewhere that’s tearing her apart.

I grip the wheel tighter, knuckles going white. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know where to start. All I know is that every breath she takes like she’s forcing herself to stay upright is another reason for me to punch my supposed best friends.

Thorne. Ryder. Those two are dead men walking.

I glance at her again, at the way the dim glow of the streetlights flickers across her face, casting shadows under her eyes. She looks exhausted. Hollowed out in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

I can’t take it.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Doll?” My voice is softer than I expect, but I don’t correct it. I just need her to say something. Anything.

She exhales slowly, like she’s debating whether or not to tell me. Her fingers twitch, curling into a fist before relaxing again. “ I don’t know,” she finally mutters. “Everything. Nothing. I keep thinking about what happens when we get home.”

I nod, keeping my eyes on the road. “And?”

She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “And what if this changes everything.”

The words hit me like a goddamn wrecking ball.

I inhale sharply, gripping the wheel harder, willing myself to stay calm when all I want to do is pull over and make her look at me.

Instead, I keep my tone even. “It won’t.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “You don’t know that.”

“The hell I don’t.” My voice is firm now, no room for argument. I glance at her again, my chest tightening at the way she’s biting her lip, holding back a breakdown. “Listen to me, Victoria. Nothing changes. Not for me. Not for you. Not for us.”

She’s quiet for a long time, but her breathing evens out, like she’s trying to believe me. Trying to hold onto something real.

I’ll be that something for her.

Always.

She shakes her head, like she's thought about it and she can't see how nothing changes after this. She's ready to argue. “I—”

I cut in before she can even start, my grip on the wheel finally relaxing. “I swear to you, no matter what happens, we’re going to be okay.”

She swallows hard, nodding once, but I don’t miss the way her hand twitches like she wants to reach for mine.

I let out a slow breath. “Come here.”

She hesitates, then finally shifts, leaning toward me just enough that I can grab her hand. My fingers wrap around hers and I squeeze gently, reassuringly. She squeezes back.

I keep my grip on her hand as we drive, the silence stretching between us. The weight of everything that’s happened sits in my chest like a goddamn stone, pressing down hard. I hate knowing that the people who should have been her safe place are the ones who just broke her.

Her fingers twitch against mine, like she’s still not sure if she should be holding on or letting go. I don’t let her make the choice. I hold on tighter.

"Blaze..." she starts, then hesitates, licking her lips. "What if I can’t look at them the same way? What if I can't forgive them?"

I shake my head. “That's not going to happen."

A small, breathy laugh escapes her, but it’s humorless, like she doesn’t quite believe me. "It’s not that simple."

"It is," I insist, my grip tightening for just a second before I force myself to ease up. "Tori, you could set fire to the entire goddamn world, and I’d still be standing beside you. Thorne and Ryder? If they know what’s good for them, they’ll be doing the same, whether you forgive them or not. They'll grovel until you do, or until they die. Whichever comes first."

She exhales, leaning back in her seat. "I just...I need to be sure."

I shoot Gabe a look in the mirror. "Which is why we’re going back. To make sure."

Gabe holds my stare for a beat before nodding. "Exactly."

But then, instead of letting it drop, he leans forward, eyes directed at me in the rearview mirror. "But maybe she shouldn’t have to do this right now."

I blink. "What?"

Gabe’s jaw tightens. "I’m saying maybe she doesn’t need to face them tonight. Maybe she needs time. To think. To feel. Instead of diving headfirst into something she’s not ready for."

My grip on the wheel tightens. "You don’t know her like I do. That’s not how she works. Tori doesn’t hide from shit."

"Maybe she should," Gabe shoots back. "Maybe for once, she should get to take a breath instead of forcing herself to be strong for everyone else. "

Tori lets out a quiet, "Guys—"

I don’t hear her. My focus is on Gabe. "No. That’s not what she needs. She needs to confront this head-on. Otherwise, it festers. It eats away at you. I’m not letting that happen to her."

"And forcing her into it when she’s already exhausted won’t make it better!" Gabe’s volume rises a level, his frustration seeping through. "She just went through hell, and you want to drag her right back into it? What if she’s not ready? Then what?"

Tori groans, rubbing at her temples. "Guys, I—"

"She won’t," I snap, fists clenched. "She’s Tori. She's strong."

Gabe exhales sharply. "You don’t get to decide that for her, Blaze."

"And you do?" My voice is sharp, edged with the kind of protective fury that’s been boiling in my chest all damn night.

Tori suddenly slams her hands against the dashboard. "Enough! Both of you!"

Silence crashes over the car, leaving remnants of frustration and rage in the air.

I turn to look at her, and so does Gabe. Her face is flushed, her hands clenched into fists, and her breathing is shallow, like she’s been holding everything in and just hit her limit.

Her eyes flick between us, dark and stormy. "I swear to God, I will throw myself out of this moving car if you two don’t shut the hell up."

Gabe and I exchange a glance, our argument momentarily forgotten. Neither of us speaks.

She exhales sharply, then shakes her head. "You’re both wrong and right at the same time. Now both of you be quiet.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then we both turn to look at each other, our expressions mirroring the exact same look of irritated disbelief.

I scowl, turning back to the road. "Whatever. "

Gabe doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his stare burning into the side of my head, like he’s just as thrown off by it as I am. I ignore him, focusing on the road ahead as we pull onto our street.

Tori sits up straighter when the house comes into view, her fingers flexing against her thighs. The tension in her shoulders spikes, her breath coming just a little quicker.

I reach over, brushing my knuckles against hers. "It's going to be okay," I murmur.

She nods but doesn’t say anything as I pull into the driveway.

I park, cutting the engine, and for a long moment, none of us move.

"Ryder’s inside," I say finally, my voice low. "And it doesn't seem as if Thorne’s home since we're still short a car in the driveway."

Tori’s fingers tighten against her seatbelt, but she doesn’t make a move to get out of the car.

Gabe is the first to open his door, stepping out and stretching his arms like this is just another day. Like this isn’t some fucked-up, emotional battlefield we’re about to walk into. I glare at him, irritated by how unaffected he seems, but don’t say anything as I shift to look at Tori.

She’s still staring at the house, unmoving.

"Tori."

Her throat bobs. "I can’t."

I reach over, unbuckling her seatbelt for her. "Yes, you can."

She turns to me, her expression raw. "What if I go in there and he looks at me like I’m the problem? Like he doesn’t love me anymore?"

Rage burns through me. I lean in, cupping her chin between my fingers, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Then I’ll knock his fucking teeth out."

A small, shaky breath leaves her lips. "That’s not an actual solution."

"Sure it is. "

A weak laugh escapes her, but it fades just as quickly as it came. She hesitates for another beat, then finally, slowly, nods. "Okay."

I don’t let go of her until she moves to open the door. I step out too, keeping my pace slow, waiting for her to fall into step beside me.

Gabe walks ahead, his body moving like he’s preparing for something. Like he’s expecting a fight.

That makes two of us.

We reach the porch, and I pause, glancing at Tori one last time before pushing the door open.

Silence greets us.

The house is eerily still, the air heavy. It’s dark, but there’s a faint glow from the lamp in the living room, casting long shadows across the walls.

I step inside first, scanning the space, my muscles tensing. There's no one, nothing but stillness and quiet air. We venture further in, half-expecting to find Ryder in the kitchen for a late-night snack. But he's nowhere downstairs.

He can't still be sleeping, can he?

"Ryder should be upstairs." I finally make mention of it, suggesting we head up to find him.

Tori hesitates behind me. "I don’t know if I can face what we'll find behind his door."

I turn back to her, watching the way she shifts on her feet, arms wrapping around herself. She looks smaller somehow. Like she’s trying to make herself disappear.

I step closer, lowering my voice. "Tori, no matter what’s behind that door, you won’t be facing it alone. You hear me?"

Her lips press together, and she gives a slow nod, but I can tell she’s still battling with herself. I reach out, my thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "You’re not alone in this. "

She lets out a breath, something indecipherable flickering in her expression. Then, finally, she gives me a shaky nod. "Okay."

Just as she takes a step forward, the front door swings open behind us. We all spin around, muscles tensing, hearts slamming into our ribs as the tension coils like a spring. And there, standing in the doorway, looking like he just crawled through hell and back, is Thorne.

His shirt is torn, his knuckles bruised and bleeding. His hair is a mess, his face drawn tight with exhaustion and something else—something desperate.

His eyes land on Tori, and relief floods his face like he’s just found the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

But before he can say a word—I punch him.

Hard .