Finding Willow (Hers) (15 page)

“You wanted to talk?” I ask him as I curl back up on the surprisingly comfortable bed, propping my head up in my hand. He turns his face away and takes a deep breath. Turning back to me, his hands try to run through the hair he doesn't have on his head. His face is pained and I feel guilty. Like I am the one causing him this pain; it’s my natural reaction to anyone suffering around me, since, for years, I have been the source of pain for so many people.

“It was stupid of me to think you were going to be staying in town. You are only checked into a motel.” He shakes his head and his hands fall into his lap. “But I don't want you to leave Woodstock. I know I am not around a lot, but when I am here, and not away on club business, I want to see you.”

What the fuck did he just say? He wants me here in Woodstock? What kind of fucking game is this?

“Hear me out before you say anything, please,” he stops me. Maybe it’s the look on my face, which I can only speculate is torn between terror and shock. My arm gives out and my head flops back onto the pillow.

“Look. I am not good with this shit. Scarlett loves you; she thinks you are the coolest person ever. River holds a torch for you. I... well, I like you Star.”

I can't listen to this anymore. I cut him off. For some odd reason, I am mad.

“You don't fucking know me, Chrome.” I shoot up straight in bed and my arms start flailing all over. “You know nothing about me! You don't know why I am in town. You don't know why I left Woodstock to begin with. You don't know anything beyond my fucking name and maybe the fact that you like to shove your dick in me any chance you get. That is why you came here tonight, right? Gotta get off again before you hit the road?” I snap. I am a lunatic. It is official. I need help.

“Shut the fuck up! Just shut your stupid ass fucking mouth!” He gets up from the tiny chair his ass was occupying and stalks toward the bed. “Will you fucking listen to a word I am saying?” he yells. He is so close; I can feel his breath on my cheeks, but I squeeze my eyes shut, just waiting for the blow to come.

“Why the fuck are you cowering? Who fucking beats on you, Star? Goddamn it!”

He backs away, sitting down at the other end of the bed. When I feel the weight dip, I slowly open my eyes back up. I watch him cautiously. His pained eyes never leave mine.

“Tell me, Star,” he gently whispers. I want to open up to him. I want him to be my safe place. I want him to be my refuge. Can I take a chance on him? All the dreams of a happily ever after I have craved since I was a child play through my mind. But is
he
that kind of guy? Will it pay off or will I just end up hurt once again in my life? So many questions engulf my mind. Questions I wish I had an answer to. Everything in me screams, run; don't trust him. Don't fucking trust men at all. But I know this may be the chance to start over I need.

I close my eyes while I argue with myself, only opening them again when I feel his rough hand run along my tear-stained cheek.

“Chrome, you don't want me. You don't want to know what I have been through in my life. You don't want to get mixed up in someone as fucked up as me. I’ll tell you, but I am giving you this chance to turn and walk out of that door before I unload this all on you.”

I look up to his warm eyes, full of caring, looking at me in a way no one has looked at me before in my life. Not even Seven. It is now or never.

“I don't want to go anywhere, Star. You don't have to believe me, but I won't walk out that door.” His words should mean nothing, because no one has ever stood by me. But he doesn't move. He sits on the bed, next to me, keeping a cautious distance, and letting me work out whatever it is that I need to.

“It started when I was young. Really fucking young.” Do I start there? Do I want to dive into the really bad right off the bat? Is that even fair to him?

“My childhood was fucked up. I grew up here in Woodstock. My parents had an old VW bus. It was my family, and my best friend's family. Our parents are swingers, I guess? I don't know; it’s fucked up. But they had a son who was a lot older than us. Blue would watch us when they were off doing God knows what. Drugs, fucking... whatever was on their agenda for the day.”

I don't want to talk about this anymore. I feel sick. I want to throw up.

“I was young, eight, maybe nine, when it started. It went on for years. I thought it was okay because we had done it for so long. When I was a teen and he came around, we would fuck around. I thought it was all just normal.” I almost don't notice, but a single tear falls from my eye. It’s the start of a flood.

“The first time, I said no. He wouldn't listen. He just wouldn't stop. He called me names and told me I led him on. He took my virginity.” My stomach churns again, and I know for sure this time it won't be as forgiving as it has been in the past when I thought about those moments. My body surges forward off the bed, and I run for the bathroom. Just as I pass the threshold of the door, I empty the contents of my stomach all over the grey tiled floor, missing the toilet by a few inches. Chrome’s big hands grasp my hair, pulling it from my face as I continue to dry heave over the toilet. But nothing comes up. Everything is already out. I wave him off, and he takes a few steps back, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

I rinse my mouth and throw a towel over the mess I just made. I can't bring myself to clean up vomit right now. I will continue getting sick if I even try.

I push past him, heading for my perch back on the bed. The comfort of the little bit of home I have right now. He follows like a lost puppy dog, waiting for me to continue down the road of my fucked up life. I do.

“It continued, but I let it. I thought he loved me, but what Blue has for me isn't love; it is a sense of possession. But it stopped for a long time. When he got me pregnant, he left. He wouldn't touch me. I was broken. I was damaged. He did it to me, and he walked away. Eventually, our parents found out, and they got involved. Blue didn't come back. Not for years. But, by then, the damage was done.”

My tears begin again. I have told Seven the story, but this is different. Chrome’s body is tense. His face is stone. He looks as though he could snap and kill someone at any moment. But his anger isn't directed at me. It is directed at the person who truly deserves every ounce of hate someone could conjure up: Blue. I can almost see him plotting a way to off him behind those brown eyes. Even if he tried, I wouldn't stop him. His genuine pain over my years of hurt is moving.

I feel like a weight is being lifted from my soul. He is taking the pain I have lived with for all these years. Crushing it and killing it. Giving it no power over me anymore.

“When Willow was born, our parents took her. They found a family to adopt her. The Driscolls lived in a commune locally somewhere. It wasn't until I decided to look for her that I learned the parents were killed in a car accident a couple years ago. I can't find Willow. All the traces of her are gone. All dead ends.”

I let out a sigh and the tears slow.

“He broke me. Losing Willow broke me. I got involved in bad shit over the years. I've been doing porn since I turned eighteen. I’m sure you have seen some of it.” I can't help but laugh because I can tell, just by looking into his eyes, that I’m right.

“I don't care, Star. I don't fucking care about any of it. I mean, I do care, but I don't. Fuck. I don't know what to say. I want to kill him, because he hurt you. If anyone ever touched Scarlett, I would kill them. I would fucking kill them. Your fucking parents should have protected you.” The rage within him is building. His warm eyes are becoming dark. For once in the short time we have been together, his anger doesn't scare me.

“That’s why I’m in Woodstock. I am trying to find my daughter. Once I do, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I was planning on going back to Manhattan, but I don't think that’s a good idea now, either. I am not strong enough to be around the fast lane again. Drugs are too much of a temptation, and I've lost too many years already. I don't know what I’m going to do, Chrome. But I don't want to lead you or your family on. I don't want to hurt any of you.”

“Can you do something for me, Star?”

Can I? I don't know. I can barely do anything for myself these days, but if I can, I will fucking try my damnedest.

“What?”

“Don't leave before I get back on Thursday. Promise me you won't leave.” His hands pick mine up from my lap, his fingers running across my knuckles. I can't leave until after Friday, so I guess I can reassure him I will still be here, at least until then.

“I have something on Friday. I will still be here when you get back. Where are you going?”

I can't help my nosy nature. I want to know. I want him to call me when he is gone. I want him to be mine. Fuck everything. This is the most ridiculous shit ever.

“I got club business to deal with in Massachusetts. I will try to get back as early as I can. I leave tomorrow night, after dinner. You think you would wanna come over for family dinner with Scarlett? It is kind of a Sunday thing when I’m home.”

“Do you like it?” Maybe I shouldn't be so vague. “The nomad lifestyle. Being on the road all the time. Ya know, with the club.” I never had a real home, even though I have always craved one. But the open road is the only place I have ever felt at home.

“Sometimes. I miss Scarlett, but nothing beats the freedom of the open road. It helps me clear my head.”

“Chrome? Bring me for a ride?”

A lazy smile spreads across his face, as he slowly pulls me across the bed and into his arms.

“Not before I do this.” His lips lightly graze mine, gently placing a chaste kiss against my lips. No passion or want. Just comfort, promise, caring. Simple affection. He shows me how much he cares with the simple gesture. Even though I’m not ready for his wordless confession, I soak up every second of it. It calms me. Comforts me. Starts to slowly repair all the cracks in my broken soul. Something I never thought would happen.

His mouth pulls away from mine, and he takes my hand, pulling me up from the bed and heading for the door.

“You are gonna wanna do something with your hair, and put on a warm jacket. It’s cold out there this time of night.” My hair? Well, it’s too short to pull back; what the hell can I do? Never mind. I have an idea.

“Can I use that bandana?” I point at his colors, hanging from his back pocket. Some kind of unspoken motorcycle gang thing. But I don't care. It’s the rag, or my hair smacking him upside the head. He pulls the blue bandana out of his back pocket and folds it.

“Come here.” He stands behind me, pushing my short hair behind my ears, and gently tying the bandana around my head, holding it all in place.

“This should work. Too tight?” His concern is funny to me, no one has ever treated me so gingerly. Coming from such a beast of a man it’s more than touching.

“It's fine.” I pull my thick black hoodie on and zip it up. I’m ready. Desperate to see if the peace of the open road is enough to continue repairing everything that has always been wrong with me.

“Come on.” He takes my hand again and out the door we go, into the cold, dark fall night.

“Sit tight for a second. Let me get on first and then I will help you up onto the back. Okay?”

I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before in my life.
Well, I guess I have ridden someone on a motorcycle but that totally doesn't fucking count
. His long muscular legs straddle the giant chrome-lined motorcycle. He flips the kickstand up and reaches his hand for mine.

“Use the peg right there with your left leg and swing your right leg over the seat. Sorry I don't have a back rest. I don't usually do passengers.” His confession catches me off guard, but the little surge of happiness I feel is enough to put the first smile on my face since the morning when I was with his little girl.

With my ass snug on the tiny backseat of his monster of a bike, I reach between our bodies for the small leather strap. The motorcycle roars to life and he lets out a laugh. Letting go of the handlebars, he pulls my arms around his waist and I loop my fingers through his belt loops, holding on to him tighter than I have ever held on to a human in my life. Including my best friend.

The tires of the motorcycle peel out of the dirt parking lot, kicking up a cloud of brown smoke as we hit the pavement of the main road and head out of town. I close my eyes and take in the feeling of the ride. The wind blows through my hair, the chill bites my face, and the engine vibrates through my entire body. Freedom isn't the only thing I feel as we tear down the road heading for the old scenic roads on the outskirts of the little hippie town.

Every turn we round, I hold on tighter. Every negative thought in my head flies out into the night sky. Every bad memory slowly purges from my being. The wind cleanses my soul, as the roar of the motorcycle engine mends every one of my imperfections. When Chrome said going for a ride was freeing, that was a complete understatement.

I could live on the back of this bike for the rest of my life, simply because it gives me the most peace I have ever felt. I crave this freedom. I almost want my own bike, even though I know that’s a completely fucking extreme idea. This is my first time on the back; there is no way I need to be riding my own. I would probably kill myself.

I close my eyes again and enjoy the peace of the ride. The miles of dark road fly by in a blur. Almost an hour has gone by when we pull back into the parking lot of the motel. I have no idea where we went and I don't really fucking care. The ride served its purpose. The memories of the past are where they belong now. In my past. From here on out, everything is about the future and what I am going to make of my life. This is my fucking life and no one is going to get in the way of me living it anymore.

I climb off the back of Chrome's motorcycle and slowly regain feeling in my legs and ass. I have been sitting on the small, hard leather backseat for so long that my vagina is seriously fucking numb. I could totally take a good pounding right now and would never feel a thing. Damn, come to think of it, that would kind of suck.