Finding Willow (Hers) (14 page)

“All ready to go, baby girl?” His voice makes me want to melt. I can't help it. It is just the instant reaction my body has to him. Fucking traitor. I am starting to understand exactly how Seven feels about Levi. No matter how much she tried to push him away, she just couldn't. I’m slowly losing my battle against Chrome. Three fucking days. Three days and I feel like a tween obsessing over those British boy band kids.

“Yup,” Scarlett says, scooping her bag up off the front porch and heading for the waiting motorcycle at the curb. I pick up my own bag to make my way to my car, but Chrome stops me. Well, more like I run directly into his steel door of a fucking chest. Not that I am complaining at all. Maybe I should be complaining.

“Got a moment?”

I want to say no, but I also want to know what he wants. I give him the benefit of the doubt after spending a really good morning with the little girl who happens to be his daughter. I enjoyed my time with Scarlett. I wonder what it would be like to spend time with Willow. Would they be alike? Would they like the same things? Is Willow as happy with her life as Scarlett is?

“What's up?” I sling the bag over my shoulder and start walking to the car as he flanks my right side, never missing a step.

“I wanted to talk to you about spending time with Scarlett.”

I know where this is going, so before he can say anything else, I rudely cut him off. I know, I am leading her on, but I don't mean to.

“I told her I am not staying in Woodstock, Chrome. My time here is short. Once I find what I am here for, I am going back to Manhattan. I put it as nicely as I could today when we were painting. I don't want her to get hurt.” I know it is a lie, but I don't want anyone here depending on me. Especially this little girl. It would break my heart to hurt her.

“What?” Chrome stares at me with a blank expression. Like I pulled the rug out from under him. His face is puzzled, his eyes are dark, and the creases around the corners of his eyes are deep.

“I told her not to get too attached. I am not staying in Woodstock. Once I find what I came here looking for, I am going back to my apartment in Manhattan. Honestly, Chrome. I hate Woodstock. It holds too much pain for me. This may be home, but so much was taken from me in this town.”

“So, you aren't staying here?”

“No, I've been here for three days, Chrome. What are you getting at?” Maybe I am just annoyed. I have never been good at gauging my own emotions. He doesn't answer me. He just stares.

“Chrome. I don't know what this is. But I have no intentions of staying in Woodstock. I came here to get my shit together, find somebody, and get on with my life.” I let out a sigh. How do I always find myself in these fucked up, complicated situations?

“Can we talk tonight?”

What do I say to that? How do I answer that? I want to. I just don't want whatever this is that we have going to take some kind of new turn. I’m just not up for it. But you know that old phrase? Curiosity killed the cat? I might as well be that dead cat on the side of the road. The one who tried to beat the car barreling down the road. Because I take the bait.

“Seven. My room.”

I open the car door, throw my bag on the passenger seat, and close my door. I don't wait for him to acknowledge me.

The entire car ride to Jefferson Heights is silent. I leave myself to my thoughts. Mainly drifting back to the fact that I have let one man ruin me. Blue took my childhood. He took my teen years. He took my independence. He took my self-esteem. He took Starburst Bloom. He killed the bright spirit I had as a little girl the first moment he laid a finger on me. It was wrong. It wasn't my fault. I didn't deserve it. I never deserved a single, fucked up thing he did to me all these years.

I, Starburst Bloom, will no longer be the victim of his abuse. I am not a fucking victim. God, I wish I could be more like Seven. Maybe she can give me lessons in being badass? Letting shit just roll off my shoulders.

I don't know how to make the change in my life, but this is my turning point. I deserve a good life. I deserve to finally be happy after all these disgustingly miserable years. All the bad choices I made. All the bullshit I took because I thought I was a fuck up that deserved to be shit on by everyone and their mother. This is it. This is my fucking out. I choose freedom. Freedom from my demons. Freedom from his touch. Freedom from the prison of my own mind. I choose life. I choose redemption. I deserve a good life. I deserve love. I deserve happiness. I want it all.

I am going to take the world by the balls. Take no prisoners. I will be the badass bitch I ache to be. This is my fucking time.

I take the left turn off the main interstate down a long dirt road. This address can't be right because it doesn't look like anyone has driven down here in ages. The trees and bushes are overgrown. The road has deteriorated. I see the house; it’s large and white. Green vines cover most of the windows and the front porch is full of holes. Clearly, no one has lived here in forever. This can't be the right address.

I check the GPS again, I look at the address Davis e-mailed me. But everything is right. It’s just a dead end. There is no Wesley Driscoll here. There is no Willow. There is no sign of life beyond a couple stray cats and God knows what that is now living in this house that is supposed to be home to my fucking daughter.

For the first time in days, I feel tears filling my eyes. So much hope filled my day. Only to be smashed once again. I feel like I am fighting a fucking losing battle. I am never going to find Willow. She is gone. Should I accept it? What do I do now? I feel so fucking defeated.

The tears glide down my cheeks as I punch the steering wheel of my car. A sob escapes me, and I cry louder. With the windows tightly rolled up, on a deserted road, I break down. Flailing like a toddler having a temper tantrum.

“It’s not fucking fair!” I scream.

I cover my face with my hands and wipe the tears away. This is such bullshit. I want to drive right back to Woodstock and find my mother. I want to wring her fucking neck until she tells me where the fuck my daughter is. The only thing stopping me is fear. Fear that she won't know. Fear that she will do more to hide my little girl from me. Fear that she will get in my way, or stop me. This is all her fault. I will never forgive her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Goddamn it all.

I back my car up and turn around heading back for the main road. I type Davis's number into my phone and throw it into the center console while the phone line cues up with the Bluetooth system in my car.

“Davis,” he answers the phone, all business. I choke back a sob, and do my best to bury the amount of disappointment in my voice.

“Hi, Davis. Star Bloom here.” I try to smile, even though I know he can't see me through the phone. I need to get my shit together. I need to stop letting these dead ends fuck me up so bad. Maybe I just need a serious fucking prescription of Zoloft or something?

“Miss Bloom, good to hear from you. Were you able to follow up on that address?” I want to yell at him, but I know none of this is his fault. I need to channel the misplaced rage I am feeling.

“Yes, Davis. I’m actually leaving the house right now. It is abandoned. Looks as though no one has lived there for quite some time.”

I blow out a deep breath and focus on the road as I pull back onto the main interstate without killing anyone. I hear him sigh as the keys of a computer keyboard sound off in the background.

“Interesting. Okay. Give me a couple hours and I will see if I can pull up any more information. I am sorry about that, Star. I would have never sent you there if I had known that.”

He is genuinely sorry. I’m sure he has dealt with clients in my position before, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with on my part. It sucks. But there is nothing in my power I can do about it right now. I will roll with the punches and deal with it all as it comes.

Maybe I could use a good yoga session?

“You okay?” River asks from behind me. I’m sure my red blotchy face gives me away. Or maybe it’s the sniffles as I shuffle my feet to the door of my lonely motel room.

“Yeah, I just got some shitty news this afternoon. Not a big deal.”

I shrug it off, but it is a big deal. I know Davis is one of the best in his field, and if there is something to find, he will find it. Unfortunately, his trail is cold at this moment. Nothing either of us can do about it. No need to cry or carry on. He’ll find something, and I will be able to continue my search soon enough.

“Please tell me it doesn't have to do with my brother.” He’s pissed. I can tell by his clipped tone. He doesn't hide his emotions well at all.

“No, for once since I rolled into town, this has nothing to do with Chrome.” Three damn days and it feels like I have become a staple in this town already. I don't know if I like it or hate it. Maybe it is time to finally make some good memories of Woodstock?

“Well, if you need to talk you know where to find me.” He disappears back inside the motel office, and I wander into my room with only one mission. Call Seven and vent. If I keep this all pent up inside, it is going to end badly.

A realization hits me. That is what drugs have been for me all these years. My out. A way to numb these feelings. Now I am being forced to deal with them, and, even though I have no idea how to, I am figuring it all out on my own. This is what I should have done a long time ago.

The line rings and rings and rings. Totally unlike Seven. She might as well live on top of her cell. She always answers on the first or second ring. Finally, she answers, but she sounds like absolute death.

“You okay, Sev?”

“Just battling some food poisoning.”

“Can you listen?” She reluctantly agrees. I don't want to keep her on the phone, but she listens like the best friend she always has been, and probably will be.

I offload everything. All the things on my mind that have been eating at me for months, years. Everything I did since I got to Woodstock, minus everything with Chrome. I’m just not ready to even think about that. I finally close with the dead end I faced this afternoon. No Willow in sight.

“Star, we will find her. I promise you.”

I hear her gag on the other end of the line, and I know the conversation is over. The phone crashes to the floor and I hit the end button. Poor Seven; she never gets sick, but clearly something did a number on her. I feel bad that I’m not there to take care of her, like she always has been for me. I know she understands. She encouraged me to set off on this journey. But it doesn't make me feel any less bad. I’m never there for her when she needs me, yet she is always front and center for me. I really am a shitty friend.

Several soft knocks sound on the hotel room door, waking me from my impromptu nap. I look at the clock and realize Chrome is the one on the other side of the door. Seven on the dot. I don't want to answer the door. I wish I could just pretend that I’m not here, but my car is a dead giveaway in the parking lot.

“Come on, Star. You’re the one who told me to come.” He bangs a little bit louder, and finally, I get my ass up from the bed and answer the door.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.” I invite him into the small room, which seems even smaller with him invading my space. I begin to think this room really isn't going to cut it much longer. I don't want to stay here, but I don't want to go back to Manhattan, either. Maybe ever. It just isn't my
thing
anymore. It isn't
home
for me. It was just a temporary getaway from the demons I never faced.