Tori was curled up at one end of the sofa in a foetal position when Nate’s phone began to let out a string of ripping guitar chords that made up his ringtone. Each of them jumped from their own isolated turmoils, everybody’s focus moving to the vibrating inoffensive object on the wooden TV unit.
She unfurled her body, moving across the floorboards with ballerina steps, in case she’d missed any of the sharp glass on the floor from Nate’s earlier outburst, and she answered the call, pulling the slightly outdated model to her ear.
“Who is this?” the voice at the other end of the line was neither friendly nor familiar. It had a menacing tone to it, and an underlying foreign sound.
“Its uh ...” her voice faltering, Nate quickly grabbed the phone from her relenting grip, as Jayden pulled her into his arms from behind. She didn’t struggle this time, as she had been doing for the past few hours since they’d got back to the flat, but instead all of her focus was on trying to decipher the various tiny nuances of emotion that passed across Nate’s face.
“Never mind who that is! Where the fuck is she? ... Stop calling her ‘the girl’, she has a fucking name!”
“Who is it?” she asked Jayden, but she was completely ignored. Turning to look at him, she saw the intense panic that was crushing him through the veneer of his control and restraint, and she struggled to quell the emotion that was reflected inside her.
“Look,” Nate looked exhausted suddenly, his beefy, callused hand covering his eyes, “I just need her to be okay. If you can keep a look out, then yeah, fine, I’m on board, whatever, just get her back here, to my sister’s place in one piece and away from that filthy fucked up piece of scum, and I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Tori began to struggle in Jayden’s arms, and he crushed her to him, dropping kisses on the top of her head softly, trying to soothe her, “Do what, Jayden?”
“How long?” Nate demanded in the background, barking into the mouthpiece, “Where shall I meet you?” Scribbling some numbers on the memo pad, he held the phone between with his muscular shoulder blade. He looked up at Jayden, a silent promise settling in the thick air between them, “Yeah, I know it. No, I’ll be alone.”
Patting his pockets, he pulled out his keys and looked over at the two of them, Tori still struggling in Jayden’s arms, “Stay here with her,” he said to his friend solemnly, “Keep her safe, whatever happens. If I hear anything, I’ll call, keep your phone on.”
Bile rose in Tori’s throat as she considered his words, “What the fuck is happening? You’ll do what Nate? Where’s Shannon?” Jayden struggled to pull her back into his arms, until she used all of the force in her tiny body to push him away, “No, I’m not going to be mollycoddled out of an answer! You won’t leave here until I get some fucking answers!”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re speaking to?” Nate demanded, arms crossed over his heavy chest, “I’m your fucking brother, Tori, I deserve some respect!”
“You deserve nothing after that stunt you pulled! And this is my fucking home, I’ll speak to you however the fuck I want to!”
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Puppet Master
General FictionGRAPHIC and EXPLICIT! Tori's been in love with Jayden since she was twelve years old, but he's pulled away at every turn. Doubts, insecurities, and certain, ahem, preferences have been convincing him that she's the kind of girl t...
