Dawn Robertson

FINDING WILLOW

Finding Willow is dedicated to all those who continue to support me despite wanting to quit on a daily basis.

To the haters and the critics for making me a better writer.

To the bloggers who have helped put me on the map!

S&M’s Book Obsession, Seductive Romance Reviews, Mean Girls Luv Books, Amber’s Reading Room, Stephanie’s Book Reports, and SO many more… If I forgot you specifically I will make it up to you!

To the authors who inspire me.

To my family for dealing with me.

To Uncle Si for making it on like Donkey Kong.

To My Little Pony.

Shoutlines Designs, Rachel Mizer, Sarah Daltry, Brandelyn Harris… have they cued on the music to kick me off stage yet?

To my mom for giving birth to me.

To my sister for inspiring me to live.

To all the hot bikers in my life.

TO ALL THE READERS!

Every last one of you!

I love you all!

-Rock on!

PROLOGUE

Nearly eleven years ago

I look down at the crying newborn lying on my naked chest. It’s warm, wet, covered in blood, and screaming, but I’m not bothered. This is my baby. This is the baby I have grown in my body for nine months. This is the baby I nurtured. I love it. I could never hate my own baby, despite the circumstances through which it was created.

“Merry Christmas! It’s a girl,” the nurse exclaims while they rub the baby’s tiny body down. They scrub all the fluids off of her. Her cries turn into little whimpers and soon, she is rooting for my breast. Finding it with ease, she starts to suckle and, for the first time in my life, I feel love. I love this little girl more than life itself. I love my daughter. I love Willow.

As she nurses, I examine every feature on her plump little face. Her lips are full, her cheeks are chubby and squishy, a small dimple graces the right side of her face, and, as her eye lids flutter, I can see the smallest bit of blue leading me to believe she has her father’s eyes.

Her father.

That fucking sack of shit.

All those years ago, I’d thought I loved Blue James, my best friend’s older brother by thirteen some odd years. He was the bad boy everyone swooned over. I always thought it was a rite of passage to crush on your best friend’s brother.

I always assumed he wanted me, and only me, because of the way he had touched me for so many years. The memories I would never shed. The feel of his rough hands exploring my tiny body. It went on for years.

When I was sixteen, he came on to me as a woman for the first time. I never realized his love for me as a child was overstepping boundaries. We used to mess around, but I always stopped it before it went too far. I was a virgin, and nobody knew I was completely in love with his little sister, and my best friend, Seven. She was my everything. My entire world. No matter what happened, she was there for me. I just wanted to explore a man as much as I explored Seven.

When Blue discovered that there was more to my friendship with his sister than met the eye, he took what he wanted. He claimed his territory. He took my virginity.

He didn’t ask or plead. He raped me. Took something I would never have given him. He led me to believe it was my fault. I’d led him on, and a man so much older than me had needs. I couldn’t mess around with him without finishing him off. He was the first man I’d been with, and the only man for a long time.

Now, the result of our on-again, off-again tryst lies in my arms, nursing at my breast. I want to cling to her, never let her go. However, in two days she will no longer be my baby. My parents, along with Blue’s, found a couple in a neighboring commune to adopt her. My Willow is going to live with strangers. Newcomers to this way of life. It breaks my heart even to think about it, but I can’t raise her. Neither can her father. And, while he might technically be an adult, I am still merely a child.

She deserves a fair chance at life, not the careless, nomad existence I was raised with. That is all I’d ever be able to provide.

I run my finger along her cheek and continue to admire her features. She is the epitome of perfection, and I find it so hard to believe that I made her. She’s a piece of me that I will love forever. I keep telling myself I agreed to give her up out of love. I just wish I would finally start to believe it.

The two days fly by in a blur of baby cuddles and visiting parents. Each time they visit the hospital, I hate them a little more. I hate that I can’t pick up the phone and call my best friend, because the truth of the matter is that she has no idea I even had a baby. I never told her I was pregnant. She would worry. She would leave behind her dream of college, and a career. I just couldn’t do that to her. She means far too much.

Blue never came. He never showed up at the hospital. He never met his daughter, his own fucking flesh and blood. I thought I’d hated him over the years, but now I know my feelings back then were nothing compared to the way I absolutely detest him now. How could you be so uninterested in your own child? But then again, he’s just like his parents, and my own: selfish. The apple really didn’t fall very far from the tree in his case.

My mother appears in the doorway, and a strange couple stands next to her. I know it’s time. Time to let them take my baby. Time to let go of my dream of a happily ever after.

The couple is older, in their early forties maybe. The woman has a warm and tender smile as she cautiously follows my mother. I cling to Willow, holding her tight against my chest. My engorged breasts ache. My stomach feels deflated. My soul is on the verge of being gutted.

Everyone in the room is smiling, but me. Because I am the only one who is going to lose out.

“Star, this is Raine and Jeff Driscoll,” my mother introduces us, but I don’t look up from Willow’s beautiful pouting face. The woman steps closer. That’s when I notice her striking green eyes. They are warm and loving. I know that look, because it’s the look Seven has given me for the longest time. My defenses start to come down, because in my heart, I know Willow will be taken care of and loved, unlike me.

I slowly place a kiss on her newborn forehead and pass her to Raine. I don’t want to watch them leave with her.

I swing my legs off the side of the hospital bed and creep across the room to the bathroom. I lock the door and turn on the shower. The tears come as soon as I hear the click of the hospital room door.

My baby is gone, and I will never see her again.

I cry harder and harder.

I made a mistake. I want her back.

It’s too late. She is gone.

CHAPTER 1

Ten Years and some months later

“Oh, yeah. Right there.”

I squirm under her touch. Her tongue runs over my clit and a shock sails through my body. I’m on the brink of orgasm. Her soft fingers reach up and pinch my puckered nipple, and that’s all I need. “Mmmmmm, baby. So good. So good. Oh, your mouth is perfection on my cunt.”

My orgasm crashes over me in waves of pleasure. Her mouth continues working my wet pussy, licking up every drop of my release. Her green eyes look up from between my legs. God, she is gorgeous, I can’t help but think. What the fuck is her name again? Brooke? Paige? Shit, I think it’s Tammy? Oh, well. I’ll just go with a generic term of endearment. You can’t go wrong with that.

“You like my cunt, baby?”

Her moan vibrates against my nipple as her mouth trails up my body. “Fuck me, Star,” she whimpers against my skin, and that is all the encouragement I need. I reach for the strap-on lying unused on the bedroom nightstand, and I strap it between my legs. I slide down her body until my mouth is flush with her perfectly waxed pussy, and I lick up and down her folds before positioning the rubber cock at her entrance.

I run the tip of the dick up and down her lips, teasing her clit, before finally plunging deep into her.

“Oh God!” she gasps in between her throaty moans. “Right there! Yeah, baby! That’s the spot!”

The harder I fuck her, the more the strap-on rubs my aching clit, and the more my body is ready for release again as I take out my fucked-up life on the pussy of this twenty-one-year-old extra in my latest film. The more I think about her, the more I realize she’s me, seven years ago. Using sex with anyone and anything to get out of her own head for a couple hours. I can’t even hate her, because I am doing the same thing at the moment. But damn, she is a fucking fantastic distraction.

“You like that? You like it when I fuck you?” I whisper into her ear, and I feel her body start to shake under my touch. Her mouth opens and scream after scream exits as she gasps for air in between each shout. One last thrust into her, and my swollen nub sets me off. I collapse against her gorgeous set of tits, and I feel content for the first time all day.

I roll off of her, reaching for the robe beside the bed. Without making eye contact, whatever her name is slips back into the barely there black dress she had on when I picked her up after filming and struts out the door. She doesn’t look back. We both knew what we came here for, and we got it.

As my body still recovers from the aftershocks of the orgasm, I sprawl out across the lonely king size bed. Maybe one day someone will stay the night?

I’m at a loss in life. I look over at the nightstand next to my bed; it’s strewn in shit. Cell phone, condoms, lube, my journal, Hostess cupcake wrappers, a couple empty bottles of soda, and, of course, an empty Gray Goose bottle. I love vodka. If you drink enough of it, life goes away. The memories disappear. The pain subsides. That is, until the alcohol isn’t enough.

That’s typically when I start snorting coke. A line here and there never killed anyone. It takes away the pain that the vodka won’t. Yeah, I’m fucked up. My life has been fucked up, ever since the first time he touched me.

That first time, I was eight, and afraid. My parents left for a night full of partying, sticking my best friend, Seven, and me with her older brother, Blue. It wasn’t anything we weren’t used to growing up. In fact, our parents were rarely around at all, so we just grew used to it.

Seven had fallen asleep, leaving me with the twenty-one-year-old man. Looking back, who would leave a man that age watching two little girls? Big brother or not, it wasn’t right. My story proves that.

We watched some Disney movie, sitting side-by-side on the couch together. I didn’t notice the bulge in his pants, but then again what fucking eight-year-old little girl would even look at a man’s crotch? I wasn’t naïve. I knew what sex was. Only because our parents were so whoreish about it, though. Kind of like I am today. I could have lived an entire lifetime blocking out all those memories. Which I did for almost a fucking decade. Until I decided therapy would be smart. Hypno-fucking-therapy. I’m just glad I don’t remember shit else.

“Star, I want to show you something,” Blue said as he reached into his pants.

“What is it?” I asked innocently. My attention drifted between his movements and The Little Mermaid. I really liked Ariel; her bright red hair made her so unique. I was blonde, like a lot of people. I wasn’t unique. I didn’t stand out.

“Look, Star.”

His words were gentle, soft almost. Blue had never been this nice to me or to Seven. That was when I noticed. He didn’t have any pants on. They were gone.

His… his… oh my! His boy parts were in his hand.

“Look, honey,” he cooed at me. “Why don’t you touch it? Don’t be afraid, Star.”

That’s how it all began. Acceptance. Love. A misplaced need to be cherished by another person. I didn’t know until years later that what he was doing was horrible. It was bad. It was something no one should ever do to a child. Fucking ever. But it happened to me, and it tainted me for life. I was a carefree little girl until Blue ruined me, and still continues to ruin me to this day.

Maybe I’m just as fucked up as everyone says I am, because I let him in my life. And when he calls, I willingly fuck him with everything I have.

I don’t think I will ever know why, but I do know that what he did to me is exactly why I chose to make a career out of fucking.

“Are you even listening to me, Star?”

My manager rambles off something about a new film that Lovestruck Entertainment wants me for. I scroll through my phone, typing out a text to Paisley, my baby sister.

Sup Kiddo

I miss my sisters. Over the years, we’ve all drifted too far apart. Paisley lives in Florida, and Journey still lives in Woodstock under the thumb of our parents. She’ll probably never leave.

I continue to ignore my manager, Katy, as she drones on about the new porno.

“Star, you aren’t listening to a damn thing I’m saying!”

Okay, so now she’s pissed and has my attention. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think she was hot when she gets pissed off. Her bright blue eyes and pouty lips pull me in, even while she’s yelling at me. Today she looks like your run of the mill school girl. Short black skirt, white button down shirt, hell, she would be perfect with pigtails. Instead, her red locks sit on top of her head in a messy bun with a pencil sticking out of it.

“Sign me up.”

I wave her away and she pushes down her black cat-eyed glasses and I continue texting. Paisley replies with an extravagant story about some sexy biker she hooked up with for Biketoberfest in Daytona. I wish she would’ve just gone to college like Seven. She could have taken over the world with her impressive intelligence, instead of slipping into the same nomad lifestyle we were raised in. The sad part is, none of us will ever be able to give it up completely. As much as I despise it, it’s all I’ll ever know.

“What is going on with you, Star?”

I’m strung out; that’s what’s wrong. Coke isn’t cutting it anymore, and as much as I want to turn to harder shit, I just can’t.

“You need to go to rehab again, Star, don’t you?”

This is typically what it comes down to. It sounds like a good idea. Maybe I could actually keep my shit together this time around. Doubtful, though. What bothers me the most is the fact that Seven will be disappointed in me. Everyone else’s opinions can suck a fat dick.

“Yeah, Katy. I think I need to give it the good ol’ college try again. Maybe I can get it right this time?”

I push a strand of hot pink hair out of my eyes and stand up from the chair. My jeans used to cling tightly to my ass, but now, the curve of my butt is disappearing. The blue My Little Ponies shirt clings to my D cup breasts, something I’m glad the drugs haven’t started to take from me.

“Don’t forget you’re filming this weekend,” she reminds me. Glory Hole Queens, starring yours truly. The joys of my job.

My phone beeps and I expect it to be Paisley. Instead it’s Evan. My ex. The ex who walked out on me because I made out with my best friend in front of him. I thought guys were supposed to like that shit? Instead, he flipped in a jealous rage. For once in my life, I’d finally thought I found someone to love me, but he only loved me when we were fucking like rabbits. Everything else was just added baggage that he didn’t want to deal with.

I shouldn’t have fooled myself into thinking anything with an investment banker would work out. You can’t turn a whore into a housewife, right?

Want to get together tonight?

I really should say no, but I don’t want to. Maybe we can fix the mess of a relationship we had? I’m a glutton for punishment because I know how this will end. But I text him back anyway.

Sure, meet me at Seven’s at 8. I’m staying at her penthouse while she is away on business.

If he says no because of the Seven factor, I am done with him. There is no way I’m cleaning my own penthouse tonight so I can entertain him.

My mind drifts back to Seven. I haven’t heard from her all day. I know I’ve been trying to avoid her since the whole Evan breakup thing, but she’s never this quiet. A series of disasters flies through my overactive imagination. I picture her dead somewhere in London. Her plane crashing over the Atlantic. Her private driver killing her in a fiery car crash. Fuck! Make it all stop!

The phone vibrates again, and I pull up Evan’s reply.

See you at 8.

“Hello, Star.”

I damn near jump out of my skin as I turn to match the face to the voice. A voice I don’t want to hear. A voice I certainly don’t expect to hear in the lobby of Seven’s building.

I find myself face-to-face with Blue. His dark eyes are encircled with pain. He’s aged horribly, and his dreadlocks are gone, replaced by a shaved head. The tattoo on his neck is visible, a shooting star with the quote, “forget what hurt you in the past.” Hysterical, considering our history.

I try to hide my shock, as well as the fact that I’m frightened of him.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Blue.” It’s true. He has some serious balls showing up in his sister’s building. She would flip her shit, and that is putting it lightly.

“I wanted to see you. I know Seven’s out of town.” The corner of his lip turns up in a grin. I can see the age lines all over his face, surrounding his mouth and eyes. He looks far older than he truly is. He looks rough. His lifestyle is catching up with him, just like mine is.

How the fuck does he always find this shit out? He always corners me at the worst time imaginable, when Seven is long gone. It’s like he keeps dibs on her so he can get to me without any obstacles. It’s been like this forever.

“I have company meeting me shortly, Blue. Sorry.”

I walk to the elevator and press the up button and wait. It seems like the elevator is taking an exceptionally long time to come. I think it’s just because I know he is standing behind me.

“That’s fine. I’ll join you.” He’s baiting me.

I turn, and he catches my chin in his hand. A shiver creeps through my body and I want to vomit. Is it his touch, or is it the fact that my body is slowly starting to go through withdrawal?

“I’m sorry, Blue, but that is not an option. Have a nice night.”

The elevator door opens, and I step inside. Just as the doors begin to close, Blue jumps into the elevator car with me. Fuck!

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I barely choke out the words. My anxiety level is through the roof. I’m trapped, and he is a mere two feet away from me. I want to scream, but even if I did, no one could hear me. Not that anyone would help me anyway. No one has ever rescued me from the arms of this fucking monster. Not as a child, and not now as an adult.

“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” He takes a step closer to me. I move back, pressing up against the mirrored wall of the elevator. “I made this trip especially to see you. You don’t want to disappoint me, right?”

My usual internal battle begins. I hate him. I love him. I want to slit his throat with the heel of my fucking stiletto. I want to fuck him like he’s the last man on earth. I am just as fucked up as he is deep down, which is why this disgusting charade has continued for all these years. I deserve everything he’ll give me tonight. Which I know will include a number of cum shots.

The elevator comes to a stop, and I push my body off the wall with all the force I still have left in my meek body. Yup, this is definitely my body screaming for a line of blow. The elevator opens into the empty foyer of Seven’s apartment. I’m not used to her house being so quiet. Even though she offered to let me stay at her penthouse for the duration of her business trip, tonight is the first evening I have. I just can’t come here when she isn’t here, because I miss her.

Rarely have we spent time apart throughout our lives, and it never gets easier.

“Who are you expectin’, princess?”

I remember Blue is behind me. I wish he would just fucking leave.

“Evan, my ex-boyfriend.” I don’t give any details. I don’t want him to know anything more about my life than he already does. He has a knack for using it against me.

“Oh, this should be fun.” I know want he means. I dump my purse out onto the kitchen island searching for the last bit of coke I have. Makeup, jewelry, condoms, cell phone, gum, ah, there it is!

I pick up the tiny silver angel off the counter, and unscrew the top of the hollow charm. I tap the wings against the black stone countertop and the white powder pours out. In the distance, I hear Blue walking around the apartment, probably taking in his sister’s success. She would never willingly let him into her penthouse.

Seven hates everything about Blue, and has since I can remember. He was downright nasty to us as kids, and the icing on the cake was the time she walked in on us fucking in the back of the old dilapidated bus we lived in.

I let out a strangled moan as Blue pressed his thick erection into my tight cunt. It was only the second time he’d fucked me. The first time he’d forced himself on me, and I’d hated it. It ruined me, but I loved the feeling. I pushed back to meet his dick. He let out a growl and slapped me straight across my ass.

“You like that, Star? You like my big dick, princess?”

He slowly pulled out, and slammed back into me with so much force that my arms gave out and my face fell right into the pile of pillows in front of me on the makeshift bed. His pace quickened, and I felt his dick so deep inside me I could barely breathe. My pussy clenched down on his cock and I felt the first ripple of a real orgasm flow through my body.

“You like that, Star?” he grunted as he fucked me harder. My moans picked up, enjoying every desperate thrust.

“Oh Blue, fuck me!” I yelled, as I bucked my ass back to meet his thrusts one last time as my release crashed over my body. Sweat beaded on my brow and between my breasts. My arms turned to liquid and my body started to collapse against the bed.

That was when I heard her. I heard Seven.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” She barely choked the words out. My body tensed under Blue, but he didn’t stop. He continued to fuck me, thrusting into me over and over again, but now his urgent tempo slowed into lazy thrusts.

I turned in the direction of Seven’s voice, my short blonde hair sticking to my face with sweat, and I gasped in shock when my eyes found her face.

“Oh my god, Seven!” I yelled, struggling to pull away from Blue and scrambling to find my clothes, somewhere on the rusting floor of the piece of shit bus.

Blue leaned back on his haunches, stroking his dick while he watched me flee, and Seven just stood across the room in a pissed off daze. Her face was blank, a tear pooling in the made up corner of her left eye. She used everything in her to try and fucking keep it together.

It hurt. I had done this to her. I’d betrayed her. I’d hurt the only person in my life I had.

“God, put it away. You are fucking disgusting,” Seven yelled at him, as she turned and stomped off the bus. I haphazardly slid my leg through my jeans, trying to get dressed as fast as I could so I could chase after my best friend.

“Let her go, princess. Come here, you got something to finish.” He continued stroking his dick with a smile on his face. I knew what he wanted, and I also knew that, if I played my cards right, I could get him off quick and go chase after Seven.

Fuck him. I push the cocaine around on the counter, and search for my trusty dollar bill that I always keep neatly tucked away in the inside pocket of my purse.

My red manicured fingernail meets the side of my nose, and I lean in for my line. I quickly snort the small amount before wiping the remaining bit up with my finger and running it across my gums.

The elevator doors open and Evan stands in the foyer. I kind of kick myself in the ass for giving him the code to get up here, but I’m just that fucking lazy.

“Star?” I hear him call out as he takes a few steps into the penthouse. The footsteps stop, and I turn just in time to see Blue extend his hand in greeting.

“Blue James, nice to meet you.” He is so fucking calm, and I hate him for that. This is it. For the millionth time, I tell myself tonight is the last night I will let Blue have his way with me. I’m going to reclaim my freedom. The freedom I had before Blue James took everything from me.

“Uh, Star? What is this all about?”

Evan doesn’t want to be here right now. That’s clear. God, he is gorgeous, though. The top button of his white dress shirt is undone. His short blonde hair is messy, like when I used to run my fingers through it for hours on end. His dark chocolate eyes are nervous, and all I want to do is throw myself at him. I know there will never be anything more than sex with him. I know a Fortune 500 investment banker will never settle down and play house with a porn star. It’s a fact of life. We come from two very different backgrounds, and I was dumb enough to think it could work at one point in time.

Then I remembered Seven and Daniel.

“Blue’s joining us tonight. You up for it?”

I run my tongue against my lower lip, and wait for him to reply. If I could read people as well as my best friend, I’d say he goes through a number of scenarios in his mind in that very short period of time.

“As long as he doesn’t touch me.” He shrugs in agreement, and we move down the hallway to Seven’s playroom.

I’m shocked by Evan’s revelation. I never would have expected him to agree to something like this. Maybe I was hoping he’d leave, and try to take me with him. Save me from Blue. Be my white knight. Ha. Wishful thinking, that is for fucking sure.

The reality becomes clear. He’s not here for me. He’s not here for a future. He’s here to get his rocks off, and go along on his way into the night.

Used again.

“What the fuck kind of room is this?” Blue asks as he takes in the sprawling guest bedroom, which has doubled as a fuck pad for years. Mistress Marilyn, also known as Seven James, is a love ’em and leave ’em kind of girl. A Dominatrix wielding any kind of sex toy you could imagine with a closest full of goodies to boot.

“The kind of room used just for sex. We fuckin’ or what?”

The night I had planned with Evan was supposed to be fun, sexy. This? I just want it to be over.

I shimmy out of the red halter dress and black heels, revealing nothing but my birthday suit. I’m not a fan of panties, and since I had my tits done a couple years back, a bra is unnecessary. They stand at attention all on their own. I don’t care that the D cups look fake. My hot pink hair and my My Little Pony body art is all fake, too, so I guess it goes with my overall fake everything. Completely manufactured look. If only my soul could be altered and fixed as well.

“Strip down, boys. Who wants what hole?”

If I had a dime for the amount of times I’ve said that, I’d be rich. Oh wait. I am rich, and it all came from fucking phrases like that. Figures.

“I want that pussy, princess,” Blue claims as usual. His ice blue eyes cut to Evan, who’s uncomfortably unzipping his black dress slacks.

He looks at me, and then back at Blue. I’ll take her mouth,” he says, virtually ignoring me.

I climb onto the bed, and lie right in the center. My head rests on one of those fancy memory foam pillows, and I close my eyes and wait. When I finally open them again, Evan’s standing next to the bed with nothing on from the waist down, his white dress shirt hanging open. He’s fucking sexy. So fucking sexy. I want him, and only him.

I feel Blue nudge at my opening and plow into my cunt without an ounce of grace. This is how it’s always been. Never gentle, always rough with possession. Instinctively, I’m wet. I don’t want to be. I don’t want my body to react to him, but it does. Any male touch gets my juices flowing. It certainly comes in handy for work. But that’s about it.

“Oh, fuck I missed this,” he says between grunts.

I turn and focus my eyes on Evan. He climbs onto the bed and kneels next to my head. Just like that, he guides his cock into my mouth. As I slowly start to deep throat Evan’s impressive cock, I ignore Blue altogether. I moan around Evan’s erection as I bob my mouth up and down his length, palming his balls, and working his cock to climax.

Blue pushes deeper, and with each thrust, he meets my g-spot. As much as I don’t want to like it, the sensation is fucking heaven. I let go of Evan’s cock and focus on my own pleasure. Blue slams into me repeatedly, and with each thrust, my screams get louder.

The door flies open, slamming against the wall, and my attention is pulled from the momentary pleasure to a fucking pissed off Seven standing in the doorway with Levi only a few feet behind her. Her dark brown hair is in a messy bun on top of her head. She has a hoodie pulled over her tits, and her black sweatpants hang low on her hips. Even like this, she is a work of perfection.

“What the fuck, Star?” she yells at me, and I can’t do anything but stare.

Evan and Blue both turn their heads in her direction. Evan scrambles for his pants, and Blue continues fucking me like we don’t have an audience that includes his baby sister.

“I’m sorry, Seven. I didn’t know you were back yet.” I don’t know what else to say. Fuck. That sounded horrible. Yeah, it’s okay that I’m fucking your estranged brother in your playroom, because I thought you were still in London playing powerhouse CEO. Could I be any fucking dumber?

I push Blue off of me and scramble to get away. He falls back on the bed and just lies there, completely fucking naked for his sister to see, with no fucking qualms about what he was just doing in her penthouse. I feel sick. I want to be sick. I need to throw up. I am going to throw up. I have to get out of here.

My body breaks out into a cold sweat, and I am cold and clammy all over as I desperately try to slip back into my dress. I’m failing miserably because I am far too fucked up to do anything but fuck or pass out.

“All of you… get the fuck out of my home. You are not welcome here,” Seven yells, and then looks me in the eye while pointing her finger at me.

“And you! I am done with you. All these years later and you do this? Again! You are dead to me! Do you fucking hear me? Dead!”

Yeah, I am definitely going to be sick. I fucked up far worse than I ever have before and there is no coming back from this. This is the end of Seven and Star and the twenty eight years we’ve shared.

I grab my black coat off the chair, pick my stilettos up in my hand, and stagger for the elevator. I don’t know where I’m going to go, or what I’m going to do, but I need to get away from everyone tonight.

I slowly walk past the kitchen as my nose runs from a mixture of my tears and the drugs from earlier in the night. I hate this feeling. I hate fucking feeling, period. I turn and try to walk to Seven, but Levi stops me. He stands in between us as Seven clutches the counter. I try and push past him, but he continues block my path. It pisses me off.

“Who do you think you are?” I yell at him. I try and push past him again, but just like every other man in my life, he is way fucking stronger than I am. I want to hurt him. I want to hurt them both.

“She’ll walk away from you just like she walks away from everyone else in her life. She’ll leave you with nothing. Broken and alone. That is what Seven James does. She doesn’t love. She destroys.”

I suddenly feel exposed. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and now that I’m losing Seven again, to whomever this uptight fucker in a business suit is, I am bitter.

He starts laughing. Laughing at me. I meet his eyes again, just as he begins to speak.

“Well, I guess if she walks away from me, I will be bitter and heartbroken. But one thing I won’t do is betray her like you have.”

Ouch. That hurt. I don’t think as my body reacts on autopilot and I slap him as hard as I can. The echo of my bare palm meeting his face echoes through the kitchen, and Seven’s head snaps in my direction. If she could move, I have no doubt she would be pounding my face in with her fist.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” she bellows as her feet give out from under her. I want to run to her, to pick her up and hold her. But that’s no longer my job. It’s his.

I make my way to the elevator door and punch the button for the lobby.

As soon as the door closes, I fall to my knees and cry. Not your Hollywood sob, either. This is a full on ugly cry. I cry so hard that my body starts heaving for air, and I gag and vomit all over the floor just as the doors open into the lobby.

CHAPTER 2

The Next Day

It’s fucking bright in here. The sunlight of a new day beats down on my face, and I have no fucking idea where I am. I blink my eyes repeatedly, hoping the world will come in to focus. But it doesn’t.

My head is pounding and I feel like I jumped in front of a subway car last night. I always tell myself, the morning after, I will never do it again. I will never go down this road again. But I do. Because I would rather physically feel like a giant bag of ass than deal with my own fucked up emotions.

“Is sleeping beauty awake?”

My manager, Katy, appears from behind a closed door, and everything starts to come into focus. I’m in the guest room of her Greenwich Village brownstone. It looks like Martha Stewart Living vomited all over the pastel-colored room. The antique furniture is all refinished in white and turquoise paint, and vintage print ads line the walls in thick black frames. I hate her décor, but she totally gets two points for the bed, even if it is covered in paisley print. I feel like I’m floating on air, despite my need for a bottle of Motrin.

“Ughhhh… whastkababblehapp?” Nope, I don’t think I am conscious enough to start communicating in English yet.

I push myself up on the bed, as Katy hands me a couple of pills, and a giant glass of water. It looks refreshing, but I know the moment it hits my stomach it is going to come flying back up. Never fucking again, and I mean it this time.

“You took a cab here last night. I want to say it was around ten. Typically early for you to come knocking so fucking shit-faced. What set you off this time, Star?”

It’s true. Besides Seven, Katy is the only person in my life I can trust enough to clean up the monstrous messes I repeatedly find myself smack dab in the middle of. This time, I couldn’t turn to Seven. I don’t think she will ever talk to me again. It should hurt more, but the more time that’s gone by, the more emotionally void I become. I can own that I’m a shitty friend, though.

“I fucked up. I gotta go see Seven. What time is it?”

I turn my head, looking for a clock, and realize how unstable I really am. I slump back against the down pillows and close my eyes.

“A little after eight. Go back to sleep for a bit. I’ll wake you up at ten and bring you to see Seven. Whatever you did, you have to make it right with her. For your own sake.”

Katy slowly shuts the door. She’s right. I have to do whatever I can to make shit right with Seven. She’s all I have.

****

What the fuck is that buzzing? Something in here is buzzing. Buzzzz, Buzzzzz, Buzzzz, Buzzzzz. What the fuck? Shut up!

I open my eyes and realize the monster headache I was nursing a while ago is better. Not completely gone, but I’m well on my way to feeling halfway human again. It’s going to be a while before I get back to normal. But that’s okay, because this time I am not falling back into my old habits.

Buzzzzz, Buzzzzz.

I find my cell phone vibrating across the hardwood floor. I miss the call before I can grab it. I try my best not to fall off the bed as I reach for it, but my efforts are completely in vain. My body falls onto the floor with a thump, and I lie there, phone clutched in my hand, laughing at the simple misfortune my life is always full of. I often wonder if it is payback for the bad choices I’ve made.

I scroll through the call log; there’s a missed call from an unknown number. I continue to scroll through my call log and text messages, realizing I harassed Seven for most of the night. I don’t remember a single second of it, but I can’t help but wince at the words, the pleas, and the lack of answers on her part. I really fucked up this time.

For a few moments, I continue to lie on the floor and stare at the perfectly painted white ceiling. I wonder if Katy heard me fall to my doom. The brownstone duplex isn’t large, and noise travels through these old buildings like the wind whips through them on a cold New England winter day.

“Katy?” I yell, as I start to stand. My legs don’t give out on me. That is a fucking plus. Walking to the mirror, which stands atop the white dresser at the end of the sleigh bed, I stop and look at my refection.

I still have on the same red halter dress. The matching heels lay next to the bed where my purse is spilled out. Surely Katy went to town looking for the source of this week’s epic meltdown.

My eyeliner has run down my pale cheeks, and the red lipstick is rubbed off, leaving only the slightest tint of color surrounding my mouth. My hair is a rat’s nest. My body looks exactly like I feel. Like a whole lotta hot fucking mess.

That’s when I notice them. The bruises. I can see the subtle hint of purple around my neck, but there are more, so many more. One takes up almost my entire upper thigh. I wear a handprint across my right cheek. The bruises around my neck are clearly handprints as well. A small black and blue mark is clear at the corner of my eye. Someone tried to do some damage, and I don’t remember any of it.

Only one person has ever hurt me like this. Him.

The bathroom is mere feet away, and I make quick work of washing the leftover makeup off my face before heading back to the bedroom for my purse and shoes. Katy clearly isn’t here, and I don’t have time to wait. I need to make it to Seven. I need to explain everything to her. I’m sick of running from the past, and if I am truly going to become free, there is something monumental I need to get off my chest.

Today, I finally reclaim my life.

It’s lunchtime. Seven is probably off on some fancy business lunch, while I sit here in the waiting room of her office. It’s cold and distant, your typical office space: fluorescent lighting, cubical galore, and a number of bad fucking pant suits. There is not one personal touch.

“Is Miss James expecting you?”

Her receptionist looks at me with disgust. I nod, answering her question. Seven may not really be expecting me, but whatever. She’s judging me. Hell, I would be judging myself, too. After washing my face, I hailed a cab and headed straight for her office. Traffic was unusually busy. I should have stopped at my apartment for a change of clothes. I should do a lot of things, but my impulses control my rational thinking most of the time. Bad judgment won out, and I sit in her multi-billion dollar corporate office looking like last night’s hooker. Story of my life.

“Miss James will see you, Miss Bloom.”

“Thank you” is all I can mutter while I work to choke back the Hollywood tears hiding behind the remnants of makeup.

I stand on shaky legs, and walk through her office door. I’ve never come to her work; I never had a reason to. The office is incredibly spacious for Manhattan. The far wall is made of solid glass, looking over the river from the ninety-fifth floor. The furniture is mostly white, although several girly colors accent the clean design. Pinks and a bit of blues. All professionally done with the utmost elegance. If anyone could get away with making hot pink look like it belongs in an executive suite, it’s fucking Seven James.

She sits behind the desk, her long brown hair flowing down around her shoulders. There are dark circles under her eyes. Seven clearly slept as little as I did. I expect her to be pissed, to yell and shout like she normally would. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially me.

Her eyes soften, though, as they pass over my body. I shrug my coat off and place it on the chair next to me, as I take a seat in the other plush office chair.

“Who did this to you, Star?” She’s upset. With me?

The tears slowly start to flow, and eventually turn into full blown sobbing hysterics. I choke out her brother’s name in between gasps for air. I try and control myself, but it’s too late. The flood gates are open, and I must tell her before I chicken out again.

“Seven, I didn’t want to. I never wanted to. But he threatened to tell everyone what I did. He has held it over my head for years.”

I start to tell her. This is my first step to being free of Blue. All the threats of telling Seven our secret are gone. I will not allow him to have the upper hand anymore.

Confusion is written all over her face, but she sits quietly and listens to every word I purge from my soul.

My entire body heaves as I still struggle to catch my breath.

“Seven, I had a baby. Blue’s baby. The year you left for college.” She’d left me behind with Blue, my sisters, and our parents. I wanted to leave with her, but she would have never had a fair shot at a real education if her wayward twin tagged along. I needed to let her go so she could become who she needed to be. And by God, if she fucking did.

I was pregnant when she left, and I sobbed like a baby as her little Honda Civic pulled out of the campground we were living in at the time. I will never forget the colder than usual spring day as she drove away, or the way I felt that night when I told my mother in confidence. I naively believed she would stand by my side. However, you would have thought I was a criminal the way she turned on me.

Seven rounds her desk and sits down in the chair next to me, spinning the chair until she faces me. Tears slowly pool at the edge of her eyes, encouraging my own hysterics. This woman never cries. Everything about her is the fucking epitome of tough as nails, and here she is, crumbling right alongside me.

But I can feel it. A weight has been lifted. The burden of this secret has weighed me down for far too long. The only person I continued to hide it from knows. She takes my hands and comforts me.

“I’m so sorry, Seven. I never meant to hurt you.” I take a deep breath. “I wish things were different. I just can’t lie about it any longer. You deserve to know, and I shouldn’t have kept this hidden this long.”

I want to drop to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. But she doesn’t let me. Instead she comforts me. This is how our relationship has always been, and will always be. She is the protector. I am the victim. She is strong. I am weak. She is fucking bad ass. I am an epic coward.

“It’s okay, Star. He won’t hurt you again. I will make sure of that. I’m going to have Clyde take you to my penthouse until I get home. You are also going to fill out a police report detailing exactly what he did to you.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want the police involved, mostly because I don’t remember large chunks of the previous night. I don’t want to remember, either. But I listen, and I do everything Seven tells me to. I would walk right off a fucking bridge if she told me to, because I know deep in my heart, she would never steer me in the wrong direction. No matter how badly I fuck up. No matter how much I fuck her over. No matter what way I wrong her. She always forgives me.

I just nod and gather my things, then turn for the door. Her voice stops me once more.

“And Star?”

I turn back, and a small smile starts to pull at the corner of my mouth. I want to be happy, and this was my first step.

“Where’s the baby?”

The smile instantly fades. I wish I knew where she was. I wish I could answer her question. I wish I never gave up my Willow. I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, before it spills down my cheek.

“I don’t know, Seven. After she was born, my parents took her to a commune upstate, and I never saw her again. Christmas Day, she’ll be eleven.”

I turn and walk out the door before I start crying again. It hurts to think about Willow. It hurts to believe I was one of those women who just gave away her baby. I’ve kicked myself in the ass enough over the years.

When my parents took her from me, I wasn’t ready to let her go. I didn’t have a choice, though. Years have passed, but not a day has gone by that I don’t want for her. If I am going to finally get my life right, I need to know she is happy, safe. Everything I never was when I was a little girl. I need to know she can have a good life. That the choice my parents made for me was truly the right one.

My journey to freedom will bring me right back to my little girl. Come hell or high water, I will find Willow. Or I will die trying.

CHAPTER 3

Some Things… You Can’t Share

Clyde, Seven’s driver, lets me stop at my place for my overnight bag. I pack as much as I can into the black Playboy duffle bag. I don’t expect to be back at my apartment anytime soon.

I grab a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, all appropriate clothing normal people would wear. Nothing sparkly or fancy, nothing that screams porn star. Okay, maybe I put a couple pieces of glittery clothes in my bag, only because I can’t bear to part with them. If glitter was a fucking blood type, it would be mine.

Once we arrive at Seven’s penthouse, there is only one thing I want. A fucking shower. I toss my bag on the leather couch and pull out my long white robe, leaving the bag open. Seven will probably bug out over the mess, but I plan on heading out in the morning anyway.

I enter her bedroom and open the door to her gorgeous en-suite. I have always loved this bathroom. Despite her repeatedly yelling at me to use the guest bathroom, I just crave the huge shower.

The large glass door is cracked open, and I turn the shower on. Moments later, steam starts pouring from behind the doors, as the glass begins to fog slowly. I pull at my clothes, stripping before I step inside and let the hot water run along my body. It feels so good.

I take my time and wash off the past forty-eight hours. I curb my repeated craving for some kind of drug or alcohol. It sucks trying to push the desire out of my mind. I take a deep breath and try to refocus my thoughts on something else.

I scrub off Blue’s touch. The lies. The betrayal. If I could scrub years of my life off, I would. I want a fresh start. A new start. I want to get on with my life.

“Star?” Seven’s voice startles me. I didn’t expect her home this early.

“Seven? You’re home,” I say from behind the glass. I want to apologize for using her shower, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I love this shower too fucking much.

“Yeah, I need to get in there. It has been quite the day.”

I can hear her undressing on the other side of the glass. I shouldn’t be excited by this, but I am. We fought. I’m trying to move on. I’m trying to put the life I have been living behind me, but the only thing I want to do right now is lose myself inside her delicious cunt. It is like heaven on fucking earth.

“Are you okay in there, Star?”

I’m more than fine, but I am nowhere near ready to get out of the shower. Company or not, the water feels way too fucking good. And I silently hope she joins me. In a bold move, I decide to bait her. It’s now or never, because tomorrow, I hit the road, not knowing if or when I will be coming back.

“I’m fine, Seven. Are you coming in or not?”

A minute or two passes; it seems like a fucking eternity, but finally, the door opens, and a naked Seven steps in. She’s breathtaking as always. I can’t help myself. As I lather the soap all over my body for the third time since I entered the sprawling shower, my hands have a mind of their own. One lands on my luscious breast, and the other slowly snakes down my body, falling between my legs.

I lazily spread my pussy lips apart, and circle my fingertip along my swollen bud. It feels divine, and I can’t remember the last time I actually touched myself without a camera rolling. I drag my gaze up to meet Seven’s emerald eyes, and she continues to focus on my wandering hands.

“Like what you see, Seven?”

I’m bold. I want her. No, not want, need. I need her. I need this final piece of acceptance before I move on.

“It has been so long, Seven.”

I step toward her, running my hands over my breasts, never breaking eye contact. It has been so long, and my body aches for her. Evan would never fucking share me with Seven. All those years Seven and I spent sharing each other with whatever partners walked into our lives, or through the doors of Sinners and Swingers.

My body aches for her touch.

“It has,” she finally replies, moving a stray piece of hair away from my face, before caressing my cheek.

I take another step in her direction, taking in her body. Her pierced nipples stand at attention for me. I’m dying to take them in my mouth and suck on them until she screams my name.

Goosebumps slowly start to spread across her skin, and I know she wants this as much as I do. Her breathing becomes more and more shallow the closer I get to her.

“I’ve missed you, Seven.”

I take one last step, and our bodies press together. Her breasts press against mine, and I can feel the metal of her piercings graze my own nipples, bringing them to life. I lick up her neck, and stop to whisper in her ear. I want you.” It is the God’s honest truth. I want her more than I have ever desired her before. In the twelve years we’ve hooked up, nothing rivals this moment.

“Star,” she tries to protest. I can see an internal battle of sorts waging. Her eyes are dark, clouded with emotion as she pauses to form her words. I don’t want her to push me away, but I don’t want her to regret this, either.

I don’t want to leave her to her thoughts any longer. I move in and kiss her. I lick and suck her mouth, all while pressing my slick, soapy body against hers. Our nipples graze each other’s and I feel my clit throbbing with need. I want nothing more than to have her mouth lapping up my dripping pussy juices.

Seven pulls away, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

“Star, share. You have to share. I can’t be just yours anymore.”

That doesn’t stop me. It isn’t anything we haven’t done before, and if sharing Seven with her new boyfriend, Levi, is what I have to do to have her before I leave, it is exactly what I will do. I don’t stop.

I continue running my lips down Seven’s collarbone, heading right for her gorgeous breasts. Her hands run through my wet, silky hair as I take one of her pierced nipples in my mouth. A moan slips past her lips, and I tug on her barbells with my teeth while my free hand snakes between her legs. I insert one finger at a time into Seven’s bare and completely soaked cunt. Everything about her pussy is downright fucking heavenly.

My lips continue down her body, cherishing every inch with divine licks and kisses, only stopping when I make my way to her glistening pussy. Wet and ready. All for me. Her back is firmly pressed against the wall as the warm water continues cascading around us. My fingers part the lips, and my tongue goes to work, licking and teasing her beautifully swollen clit. With the first swipe of my tongue, her moans echo through the bathroom. My mouth continues to tease and nibble on her nub, before I slide my tongue slowly into her wet cunt.

“Oh God! That feels so fucking good.” Her words cheer me on, as I continue licking her pussy. I love it when she talks dirty to me.

“What the fuck?” I hear a deep voice bellow from outside the glass doors, just as the door swings open. Levi stands there, clearly seeing red. Until his eyes land on me. Was he expecting someone else? Another guy?

Seven jumps ten feet in the fucking air and I pull away, pussy juices dripping down my face. We both stand there, looking at Levi, waiting to see what’s going to happen next.

“I told you, Star. You have to share.”

Seven nods at Levi, who is standing there with his mouth hanging open. I’m sure he didn’t expect to come home and find his girlfriend with her best friend between her legs.

“I’m sorry, Levi. But if you want to join us, you’re welcome. We were kind of…” Seven pauses for a moment before she continues to speak.

“Making up.”

I guess making up really is an accurate way to describe whatever this is. In the back of my mind, though, this is a goodbye. I just don’t want to tell Seven yet.

Levi starts pulling at his clothes, like he can’t get them off fast enough. I want to laugh at how anxious he is to join us. But Seven stops him once again.

“One rule.” She pauses for a long minute, and I can tell she’s nervous. I haven’t seen that look on her face since the first time we fucked.

“You must wear a condom if you fuck her. You can bareback me all you want. Her, no dice.”

She takes charge, just like she always does. To be honest, I don’t want to fuck Levi at all. Whatever it is that they have going on is far more than one of Seven’s one night stands. That’s obvious by her choice not to use condoms with him. Certainly a first for her. I don’t want to get in the middle of what they have; it’s not my place. I just want her.

He nods and continues to strip. As his boxer-briefs fall to the floor, I can’t help but let out a gasp. His fucking dick is huge. I mean, I have seen some big dicks in my time, but this boy would be porno gold.

“I guess that’s why you keep this one around.” I continue to stare at Levi’s gorgeous cock.

“Come here, Levi,” Seven says, and he takes his position between the two of us. I watch him like a fresh piece of meat, but I’m almost pissed that he’s coming between Seven and me before I’ve had time to get off. The fun was just beginning when he decided to walk in and join our party.

“Fuck me, now. Up against this wall. Hard and fast.”

Possessive Seven makes her appearance, and I know exactly where this is going. She has no intention of sharing Levi, despite all of the men we have enjoyed together in the past. She continues to demand his attention, to pull him in her direction. Everything about her screams, mine. She is marking her territory. She might as well piss on him. It’s hysterical and endearing all at once. Finally, Seven James has fallen in love. Real fucking love. It is clear from her actions, her controlling nature over him when I walk into the picture. I’m not the jealous type, but right now, I wish I could be Levi, or even Seven.

His arms wrap around her waist, and Seven wraps her legs around him, pressing the heels of her feet right into his ass. I stand alongside them, watching, as I begin to finger myself again. I roll my fingers over my hard clit, before I press two fingers inside my cunt, searching for my g spot and some sort of relief. I need to fucking come already.

In one hard thrust, Levi plows his dick inside of Seven. I’m jealous, because I wish I was him right now. He follows her instructions carefully, fucking her hard against the shower wall. His hand reaches between their slippery bodies, grazing his thumb over her swollen clit, and that’s when I see it. Seven starts to let go, and she comes all over his dick. He claims her orgasm, when I want to.

“Fuck! Levi! Feels so fucking good. Fuck my pussy harder!” Her words are sexy, and I continue working my cunt, praying for some sort of relief.

“Your pussy is fucking heaven,” he grunts against her neck, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I completely agree with that, Levi. Her fucking cunt is heaven!” I want a piece of it, but instead I run my fingers over my erect nipples, gently tugging at each one as my fingers rub my clit.

“Oh fuck,” Levi gasps as he slams one final time inside Seven. I know they’re finished, and I’m still looking for my own release. Watching them maul each other with such erotic and carnal passion has done me in. I flick my clit one last time, and my own orgasm squirts all over the floor of the shower. I’m embarrassed. Seven has seen me release like that for years, but Levi’s new. I don’t think he even notices, though, because he is so focused on Seven.

I lean against the wall and watch as Levi slowly starts to pull his softening dick out of Seven’s dripping cunt.

“Lick my cunt clean, Star.”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I step in front of her and lower to my knees on the shower floor. Levi grunts; his hand reaches down for his semi-erect cock and begins stroking. I waste no time going to work, licking and sucking on Seven’s deliciously used pussy, cleaning every ounce of Levi’s come from her.

With her cunt still in my mouth, I speak. “I want a ride on that.” I motion to Levi’s dick. I’ve had a lot of dick in my lifetime, but there is just something about that one that I don’t want to pass up. Maybe it’s the size and girth combination, but holy fuck. She is one lucky woman.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Seven counters. “This is what we are going to do when we get out of here. First, I am going to get my strap-on. Then I am going to fuck you, while Levi fucks me.”

I can’t argue with that. I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to end this night. I nod in agreement, and we all rinse off and head for the bedroom.

I stand in front of the mirror in the spare bedroom examining all the bruises on my body. I want to go to sleep, but I know Seven and Levi are waiting for me in her colossal bed. Would she really be upset if I didn’t join them? Would it damage our already broken friendship? Or would it help to repair the destruction I’ve already caused? I slide my floor length, white silk robe over my shoulders and tightly tie the belt.

The decision is final. I don’t want to join them. The shower was more than enough. If I could have a night of Seven alone, that would be one thing. This sharing thing with someone she clearly cares about just isn’t for me. Love and sex just don’t mix for me. Unless it’s with Seven.

I make my way down the hall and tap lightly on her bedroom door before entering the room. Seven and Levi are lying on the bed together, her soft naked body wrapped in his strong arms. His gaze never meets mine, not once, because he is so wrapped up in my best friend. I can empathize, because I’ve been there. Someday, I will admit that Seven was my first love, but now certainly isn’t the time.

My decision to walk away flies out the window. I fucking hate being so confused, but I can’t help it when it comes to Seven. Everything about her screams touch me.

I slip my robe off, and slide into bed next to her. I run my fingers through her wet hair, and her body goes rigid. Something is wrong. Her body has never once rejected my touch, and it’s a slap to the face. I want to cry, but I won’t let them see me hurt.

“I can’t do this.”

She sits up and the rejection stings. Once again, I am put aside for someone else. The story of my life. I always thought Seven could relate, because she was always the unwanted child in her family. We bonded over that. We became each other’s rocks. Now, she’s pulling away, like everyone else.

“I’m sorry, Star. I love you, and I always will, but I just can’t do this anymore. I never thought there would be a day when I just couldn’t share anymore. But I’ve made it there.”

I don’t want to be, but I’m happy for her. I am a giant selfish bitch for being upset by it. Who wouldn’t want their unavailable best friend to finally fall for someone? I couldn’t keep her forever, because Seven was never mine to begin with. Even if she is all I’ve ever wanted.

Maybe it isn’t Seven. Maybe I have always just wanted someone who will love me for the fucked up ball of mood swings I am? My very own love. My very own happily ever after. Is it possible? If Seven James can get one, I may just have a fighting chance.

“It’s okay, Seven. You don’t have to apologize for finally finding happiness in your life. I can tell by the way you look at him. He’s good for you.”

I stand up and pick up the long white robe, slipping into it.

“You will always be my best friend, no matter what. We may not be little kids anymore, but you will always be my sister.”

And like that, I walk out the door, down the hallway, and to the guest room, where I finish packing up my bags. I want to be gone in the morning before Seven gets up for work.

All night long, I pray sleep will take me. But it doesn’t. I toss and turn in the spare bedroom. I stare at the ceiling as if it holds the answers to life. I play games on my cell phone and cruise Instagram to catch up with friends. Through it all, my mind won’t stop racing. I contemplate getting out of bed and going to Seven so many times throughout the night, but decide it’s against my better judgment.

Somewhere between memories of my childhood and the birth of my daughter, I pass out. It isn’t for long, because I’m startled by a nightmare. The tears gently trickle down my face, and I’m forced to face the reality of giving away my daughter yet again. I have buried my feelings for so long that I need to just stop. I need to get it out. I need to tell my entire story. I need to tell Seven. Without the holes.

I look at the small black clock on the nightstand; it reads quarter after three, and I quietly walk down the hallway and into her bedroom. She’s wrapped in Levi’s arms, sleeping like an angel. I don’t want to wake her up, but I need to. It is the right thing to do.

I tap her shoulder, and she blinks her green eyes open, turning her head to find me. Slowly, she pulls out from under Levi’s embrace. He stretches and peers through one eye.

“It’s okay, babe. Go back to sleep,” Seven whispers, and he rolls over, falling back asleep.

She takes my hand, and we move to the leather couch in the living room. I pull my knees up to my chest and turn to face her. I feel like a little kid, on the verge of confessing my transgressions to my mother. Except my own mother wouldn’t have given a flying fuck.

“Seven, after that time, when you caught us, he wouldn’t stop.” I let out a long sigh and pause, thinking about the right way to deliver this tale of terror. I want to hold back, but the longer I keep it all in, the more it tears me apart. “He continued to force me to sleep with him me for two years. The first time, he raped me. I hated it. But I liked it at the same time. My mind and body clashed. I wanted to hate every second of it, but my body craved more. He got violent; he treated me badly. Then I got pregnant, and he wouldn’t come near me again.”

I don’t want to go into details. The thoughts make me sick. The idea of Blue’s hands running along my body makes my stomach churn. I can tell my words cut her deep. She doesn’t need to know any more of the disgusting details. She has a laundry list of reasons to hate Blue already. We all do. Telling her any more would just ruin her. I can’t do that.

The expression on Seven’s face is heartbreaking. A mixture of emotions continue to run through her. There is clear hurt, and rage. I can always spot when she is about to blow, and she is close. She feels pity, and disappointment. In me? In herself? In our parents? Her brother? Where do you place the blame when something so tragic happens?

“I want to find her. I want to find Willow,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say. There is no plan, except to go to the last place I know she was. Woodstock, New York, where I gave birth to her.

Seven nods, and pulls me into a hug.

“We will find her, Star. I will stop at nothing to help you.” Like that, I fall asleep, safe in Seven’s arms.

CHAPTER 4

Leaving My Life Behind

I have never owned a car in my life. Living in Manhattan, there is little need for one. Everything is in walking distance, and if you really don’t feel like hoofing it across the city, you can hail a cab or take the subway. I’ve always laughed at the people who paid an ass ton of money just to park some fancy sports car. Not that money is an object these days.

Today, though, I’m buying a car. It’s time to leave the city. There really is nothing left for me in Manhattan, and if I am serious about ditching the lifestyle and getting my shit together, I won’t come back. I never thought I would own a car; as fuckin’ stupid as it sounds, it is a big deal for me.

I said my goodbyes to Seven and Levi this morning before they both left for the office. I didn’t want it to be some kind of long drawn out production full of tears and promises. I won’t be gone forever; at least, I don’t expect to be. I just need to get away from the fucking monotony of the city and everything my life has become. If I’m really going to give this whole sober shit a try, the further away from work and the life I’ve built, the better.

I pull my brand new shiny blue Mazda CX5 up in front of my apartment to load a couple last minute things into the trunk before I take off. I didn’t expect to come back, but the more I thought about leaving certain things behind, the more anxiety I felt. What if I never come back?

My music collection is my top priority, followed by my porn catalog, my laptop, and some extra clothes. Seriously, who doesn’t need glittery stiletto pumps and clear stripper heels out in hippie country?

I’m not sure where I’ll be staying once I hit Woodstock, but I will figure that out when I get there. Planning has never been my strong suit. I slip the Poison CD into the slot on my dashboard and crank up “Fallen Angel,” making my way to the West Side Highway. Fuck, New Yorkers do not know how to drive!

I guess this will have to do, I think to myself as I pull into the parking lot of a little Mom and Pop motel. When I was a kid, it was owned by an older couple, The Morrises. Of course, back then, they were already knocking on death’s door.

I put my car in park and open the door. The dusty dirt parking lot hasn’t changed a bit, although the aged motel clearly has a new coat of paint on it. The white building still looks worn, though, even under the cosmetic touch-ups. It reminds me a lot of myself.

I push the front door open and an old cowbell rings. Like I expected, little old Mrs. Morris doesn’t round the corner. Instead, a young kid with floppy dark hair and a small stud in his lip comes out from the office. He can’t be more than twenty-one. He throws me a lazy grin.

“Can I help you, Miss?” He has a thick New York accent, something you aren’t used to hearing upstate. I take notice that he isn’t from the area. I know most of the town; people never come and go. It’s a close knit community, made up mostly of people whom I wish I could forget.

“I’m looking for a room. Possibly for a couple weeks.”

I will myself to move to the counter once I realize I’ve been standing in the door the whole time, just staring.

The boy walks over to the dated rack of keys hanging next to a small laptop and pulls one down.

“I’ll just need some basic information from you. How about a driver’s license and the credit card you plan on using?” He types something, then places the key up on the counter. If he wasn’t so damn young, he would be fun to play with. My mind drifts into the dirt. A girl has needs, ya know!

I open my bag and find my wallet somewhere near the bottom of the pit of despair. I really need to fucking downsize. I throw both of the plastic cards on the counter and start searching for my cell phone.

“Starburst Bloom? You must be from this hippie hellhole of a town.” He laughs, and I have to join him. My name is fucking ridiculous. I hate it. One of the many fucking things I hate about myself. But I plan on changing it all. I am determined not to let the past dictate the future anymore.

“Yeah, I was born here, I think? Raised here for a bit and got the fuck out as soon as I could. Wouldn’t you?”

He’s stuck, too, I can tell. He has that look in his eyes, the one I had years ago before I bolted.

“I would love to leave, but I never could. This is my home now. It’s better off this way, anyway.” No details, just vague half-truths you admit to a stranger. We would get along, that is for fucking sure.

I finally find my phone at the bottom of the bag, and send Seven a text.

Got here. Still a shithole. Xoxo.

I can’t blame her for leaving me behind all those years ago. If I didn’t end up knocked up, I would have been right there next to her, spreading my wings. Maybe not going to college, since she’s always been the brains of the operation, but maybe I could have taken up painting in Central Park, or photography. The type of shit a girl with a free spirit should have done. Instead I opted for something that broke my spirit. Sex for money on camera. For so long, it was what I was told I was good at. I can still hear his voice in my thoughts almost daily.

“Star, I love you so much,” he whispered into my ear as he kissed the side of my face, heading down my neck. Every word that came out of his mouth made me feel loved, and cherished. Not hurt, or abused. He was everything a sixteen-year-old-girl could want. Aren’t we supposed to chase after older men?

“I love you too, Blue.” The words came out of my mouth without a second thought. The reality was that I didn’t know what love is. I had never had the opportunity to experience love.

“When is everyone going to be back?” I cautiously asked, afraid of getting caught again. After Seven caught us a few weeks back, I became paranoid that my parents would find out. Not that they would do much of anything in terms of punishment.

“Not for a couple hours, so why don’t you get naked?” He asked, but I knew it really wasn’t a request. He didn’t ask. He told me what he wanted and when he wanted it. I followed along like a lost puppy dog just hoping to get some kind of attention, someone to finally love me. No matter how negative and absolutely fucked up it was.

I slipped all my clothes off, leaving nothing but the black pair of boy shorts panties. I laid back on the inflatable mattress and waited. It was always the same. He would start with my breasts, then work his way down. He licked, kissed, teased, and sucked every inch until his fingers parted my soaking cunt and made their entry. Typically he was gentle at first, but that never lasted long. Every second that went by, he would get rougher, more desperate.

His arm reached up my body with his fingers clenching around my throat as he finger fucked me. I shouldn’t have liked it, but I did. Because for once in my life, I finally felt connected to another human being in the way I’d always craved. I learned early to mistake intimacy for love.

“You like that, you dirty little bitch?” he whispered into my ear. I knew it shouldn’t turn me on, but it did. He made me like it. He turned me into the sexual creature I was. I loved him and hated him for it all at once.

“Mmmmmm, yes, Blue.”

His finger grazed my sweet spot and I felt my orgasm starting. His hand got rougher, and his mouth bit at my nipples. I cried out with pleasure.

“Oh god! Right there!” That was all I could squeak out in between my lustful pants. My release crashed through my body. I could feel it from my lips all the way down to my soaked cunt. With each wave of pleasure, I soaked Blue’s hand with a fresh squirt of come.

“I love that disgusting little cunt.”

He pulled his hand out and I could feel him shifting around. I knew what came next. I got my pleasure, and I was done with the hookup, but I would never speak up and tell him that. I didn’t know what he would do if I did. Deep down, I was scared of him.

His body covered mine and he roughly pushed inside me. The pain mixed with pleasure. As much as I didn’t want to like it, I did. I always did. No matter how many times we would play this fucked up game, I continued it. He was rough and quick. Before I knew it, he pulled out and emptied all over my stomach.

“You look so good with my come all over your body. You are mine, Star. Mine.”

I shake off the memory. I fucking hate it when that shit creeps up on me.

“Miss? Miss?” The kid is trying to talk to me, and here I am in La La Land, completely ignoring him. Being back in Woodstock is already starting to get to me. I can’t say I didn’t know this was going to happen. The few times I have come back end the same way, completely mind-fucked.

“Sorry about that. It’s just strange to be back after all these years. This place always fucks me up.”

I don’t know why I’m here pouring my soul out to this kid like he is Dr. Phil, but there’s something about his soft green eyes that tells me he is a good person. Not that I’m the best judge of character.

“I know the feeling. I put you in the next room over. Number one. If you need anything, just come over here and let me know. The name is River.”

He hands me a key and smiles again. Maybe he’s being nice because he recognizes me from some porno he watched on the internet. I get that a lot.

“Thank you.” I accept the key and put my license and credit card back into my purse. I turn for the door, and he speaks again.

“One lost soul to another? This place is good to get your shit straight. I’m outta here at six if you wanna catch a bite to eat.”

I nod in his direction and head for the door. Am I really that fucking transparent? Do I really look that fucking lost that some kid barely old enough to buy a beer has me pegged?

Whatever.

This was probably a really fucking bad idea.

I look at the old yellow bathroom vanity inside the motel room, which is now covered in dark brown hair dye. I can’t dye my own hair. I have tried for years, but every fucking time it turns into a nightmare. I am going to have some serious cleaning to do before the dye starts to stain shit.

I squirt the cheap, store-bought hair dye into the last spot of blonde I can see, while I wish I had eyes in the back of my damn head. I toss the bottle into the garbage can and start to clean up the mess before me. As I scrub the dye off the edges of the sink, I fall into my mind again. Which is exactly what led me to think the two dollar box of dye would be a good idea.

I want to be a new person. I don’t want to be Star, the porn star, even though that label is going to stick with me as long as I’m alive. I want to be Star, the woman who wants the American Dream. I want to be Star, the amazing painter, the artist. I want to channel the talent I’ve never put to use. I want to re-invent myself. I want to change my life so one day Willow can say, that is my birth mom, and actually be proud of it.

Maybe this is finally me growing up? It’s probably something most average people go through at fucking nineteen, or maybe even twenty-one. Not damn near fucking thirty. At my age, this shit is just a fucking mid-life crisis.

I think about all the shit I fucked up over the years. Most of it was fueled by whatever drug I decided was fun that week. It’s been a few days, and I don’t have a single desire to get fucked up. I never realized how bad being numb actually made my life.. It wasn’t about not feeling or about being an addict; it was about the party. And that is clearly over.

Maybe jumping into the marriage and kids thing would be a mistake. Not like there are any stable men in my life anyway! Love really isn’t on my list of shit to do right now. Speaking of my list, after I got to my room, I actually pulled my laptop out and wrote one.

Star’s List of Shit to Do

Find Willow

Establish a new Career

Dye my hair

Find a therapist

Buy a house

It really doesn’t seem like a lot. It seems downright pathetic really. To me, though, it’s everything. Once I find my daughter and work on repairing that relationship, if I can, I need to do some simple things for myself. At least I can cross dye my hair off the list.

The alarm on my cell phone goes off, letting me know it’s time to jump in the shower and wash the dye out of my hair. I crank the hot water on and let it run until the temperature is no longer arctic chill. I make quick work of washing the sludge-like dye out, shampooing twice before turning the water off and getting out.

I grab the white towel hanging on the dated metal bar next to the shower and slightly dry my hair before wrapping the towel up on top of my head and drying the rest of my body with the smaller hand towel. Little-by-little, I wipe away a bit of my past. With every pass of the towel, I make a new promise to myself.

No more drugs. No more alcohol. No more porn. No more Blue. Over and over again, I wish away everything I never want again. I will get healthy. I will re-claim my life. I will be everything I never thought I could be. And I will do it all on my own.

Dressed in a loose fitting pair of blue jeans and a fitted black Bettie Page shirt, I look in the mirror. My new short, dark locks are exactly what I needed. The light brown hair rests chin length around my round face. My bright blue eyes slowly start coming back to life. I thought I would never get their slight twinkle back. Kicking the drugs worked wonders. I mean, I still feel like a bag of ass throughout the day, but it beats my life wasting away. Complaining about withdrawal is for pussies anyway. Seven would punch me in the cunt if she heard me.

My stomach rumbles, and I look at the clock; it reads quarter to six.

I pull on my black hoodie and head over to the motel office. I figure I’ll take River up on his offer for dinner. Even though I know a good amount of people in this town, I don’t have any real friends. I cut all the ties years ago. A new friendly face could help me immensely, even if he is just a baby. Plus, the fact that he doesn’t know me or my history is a big plus.

As I reach for the office door, it flies open and a rock hard chest crashes directly into my body. Fuck, that shit hurt. What the hell? I growl. Legit growl. Like a fucking dog. I am pissed and in pain.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” I say.

I look up to see a mountain of a man. Tall, dark, and handsome wouldn’t even come close to describing him. He is extremely tall, at least six-four, dwarfing my five foot five frame. His head is shaved bald. I laugh to myself when I think about rubbing it. Would a genie pop out?

But then I meet his eyes. He has the most beautiful pair of warm caramel colored eyes. The slight hint of wrinkles around their edges shows mystery, depth. They scream of untold stories, a weight of burden. How do I know? Because I wear the same baggage on my very own face.

“Shit, I am sorry,” he mumbles as he continues his long strides toward a motorcycle parked on the far side of the lot. I can’t help but watch as he walks away. The way his jeans fit snug over his delectable ass. The way the white long sleeve shirt bunches on his forearms, exposing dark shaded tattoos. The way the black leather cut hangs from his shoulders, unbuttoned and moving freely with every step he takes.

A large patch spreads across his back reading, Hell’s Renegades. He is dangerous, gorgeous, hot, and sexy. Fuck, I could go on and on with various adjectives to describe him. None would do him justice. I continue to stare like a child. The motorcycle roars to life, startling me from my thoughts. Like that, he pulls out of the dirt parking lot, and onto the small two-lane road running through the center of town. He is gone, and I’m still frozen in the same spot. What the fuck just happened?

I shake my head and walk inside the office. River stands behind the counter, looking pissed. He doesn’t even acknowledge me. Maybe this isn’t a good time. Maybe dinner was a bad idea. Or maybe he needs the company tonight just as much as I do?

“Bad time?” I question, and his glare swings in my direction. His face softens, and he cracks a smile. Good to know I can make someone smile these days; it hasn’t been one of my strong suits recently. I can’t help but smile back at him. It is totally fucking contagious.

“No, actually. I could use company for dinner.” He pulls a jacket off the back of the chair behind the counter.

“Any preference? There isn’t much for choice around town, but there is a diner that is pretty good.”

Maggie’s. I remember it well. My parents never had much money, but every opportunity I had to scam some money, I ran there for French fries smothered in American cheese and gravy. Still, to this day, any time I step foot inside a diner, it’s a must.

“Maggie’s is good,” I tell him, and I pull the keys to my car from my pocket. His eyebrow lifts with curiosity. He’s finally taken a good look at me. The changes. The hair. Let the questions begin.

“You drivin’?” is all he says, though. I let out a sigh of relief, but I’m sure as soon as we’re packed into the snug booths at Maggie’s, he will start with the questions. Maybe instead of investing in a therapist, I will just hang out with this child. Seems like an easier remedy.

“Yeah, you wanna ride with?” I jingle my keys and press the fancy remote on my keychain to unlock the doors. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the excitement of having my own car. It’s not even a Volkswagen bus, or an actual school bus converted into a fucking home.

“Sure.” he reaches for the door handle and lets out a laugh. “But where am I supposed to sit?”

I realize I still have half my music collection sitting on the passenger seat. I climb into the driver’s seat and start chucking CD cases into the back.

“Sorry, it was a long drive.”

And like that, we’re off.

“So, you know Maggie’s?” River asks, as he picks up the petite glass of water off the table and chugs it back. I take a minute to think about exactly how much I want to dish to him before I know his story.

“Grew up in Woodstock,” I say, deciding to really lay it all on the line. This is the new and improved Star; no need for games. I’m not going to come out with the long, sad, sob story of why I’m hiding away in the mountains, but I am not going to hide trivial bullshit, either.

“I’ve been here for five years and never once seen you,” he responds with a sly grin. He’s right. I haven’t been back during that time. It’s been almost eight full years since I made it a point to come back to this hell hole.

“Haven’t been here in about ten years. Maybe a little longer, but I haven’t been keeping track.” I take a sip of the watered down Sprite in front of me and try not to gag on it. Nothing like outdated diner soda to remind you of home.

“What brings you back to this podunk, piece of shit town?” Well, that was blunt. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, oh youngen filled with angst.

“Change. I need to slow down. Re-evaluate my life. Start over.” It’s the truth. I think those factors, and Willow, are exactly what brought me upstate. I could hang around here for a while, try and blend in with the locals. Be a little carefree, and take in nature. Stop to smell the roses, something that is damn near impossible in New York City. Even though Woodstock harbors so many negative memories for me, there is so much beauty in the town. Rich culture from the hippies who never left after the memorable music festival. Believe it or not, many actually became productive members of society in this little tourist town.

“What about you, River? What brought you to Woodstock?”

The easygoing expression starts to fade from his face, and a more serious look takes over. He takes a long sip of the water again and places it down on the table a little harder than a normal person probably would. It’s a sore subject for him. I won’t pry, but I must admit, I’m curious. He lets out a sigh and then begins.

“Five years ago, my parents died. I was sixteen, so I had no choice but to move in with my oldest brother. He was twenty-nine at the time, and he had no interest in raising me. He left me to fend for myself. I guess I’m grateful for having a roof over my head, and food to eat, but I got stuck taking care of my little sister, Scarlett. I became her live-in babysitter.”

I can feel the resentment in the air. His distaste for responsibilities is clear, like most kids his age. But he shrugs it off and continues.

“But it’s life. No one expected our parents to get killed. You never think you are going to be taking care of a five-year-old girl when you’re sixteen. Don’t get me wrong. I love Scarlett, but my brother’s lack of presence in our lives made everything harder. It’s his job; he is on the road. I get it. I was just never ready to be a surrogate parent.”

For such a young kid, he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I genuinely feel bad for him. It’s been a long time since another person sparked that kind of emotional response from me. Especially a virtual stranger.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Your problems make mine look like a fucking paper cut in the grand scheme of things, River.” It may not be true, but then again, we can’t play a game of who has a more fucked up life, either.

“I’m cool with it now. It just gets under my skin every time I happen to talk to my brother. Whether I like it or not, he is still Scarlett’s legal guardian because of my parents’ will. I have asked him to reconsider but he won’t. It always turns into an argument.” Here I thought I was coming to get shit off my own chest. I might as well have him lie down in the booth and charge him a couple hundred bucks when we are done.

“Tell me about your problems. It looks like you want to get something out,” he says. Am I that fucking transparent? Probably. Seven can read me like a book. I guess I don’t have the killer poker face she does. Mine was lost long ago.

“My problems are pathetic. I’m a coke-addicted porn star looking for a new start. There isn’t much more to it,” I lie. I’m good at lying. I hate that I’m good at lying, but it has helped me through life. I may not have the emotionally evasive poker face, but I can lie like a fucking politician. I know I want to lay it all out on the line, but I just don’t want the world to know exactly why I am in Woodstock. My negative thoughts only have everyone trying to help whoever Willow is living with, hide her from me. Yup, I always think of the worst case scenario.

“That is where I know you from!” His voice echoes through the quiet diner. “You are fucking Star Bloom!” His excitement level is at a three hundred and seventy-two, and I need it at a fucking negative sixteen.

“Yes, that’s me.” I shrug as our food is delivered. River apparently thinks he is dining with some kind of celebrity now. The smile plastered on his face can’t even be removed by the shitty diner food, or the heavy convo flowing this evening.

“Seriously. You are, like, one of the best porn stars ever! The deep throat queen!” Once again, his voice echoes, and the embarrassment starts to seep in. I wanted a peaceful dinner, and now I have a deep throat fan front and center.

“Can we talk about something else? I am kind of trying to put that all behind me.” It was a huge portion of my life, but it is done now. I can’t go back to that lifestyle and I think I am going to stay away from the drugs. I realized that when I made the decision to leave the city. It wasn’t the drugs that I was hooked on; it was the lifestyle. They go hand-in-hand. I always thought I was an addict, but it wasn’t until tonight that I realized I craved the acceptance of the crowd I was running with, not the drug itself; I’m doing just fine without them now.

“It’s cool. I get it. That’s why we moved up here. My whole family needed a change of scenery, especially my brother. If we stayed in Brooklyn much longer, he would have ended up in jail, and been completely useless to us.” His brother sounds like a real fucking winner. But then again, who am I to judge?

I can’t help but smile. This dinner is exactly what I needed. I happily pig out on my cheese fries with gravy, savoring the greasy diner taste of every last one. It is so refreshing to have my appetite back. Two days have gone by and each day I feel a little bit better. I feel healthy, stronger. Like I am regaining the control I have been desperate for my entire life.

“I was on a bad path. I got shit I need to figure out on my own.”

River nods, and continues eating. The conversation continues for hours. We sit there like old friends, going back and forth about trivial shit. The deep part of the conversation is over and carefree nonsense flows. We laugh about pop culture bullshit. He makes fun of my tattooed sleeve of My Little Pony’s and he feels like the little brother I always wanted. Sorry, Journey and Paisley, but there was way too much fucking estrogen in our family.

We both pay our respective tabs and drive back to the motel, still continuing to laugh and joke like old friends. I pull my car into the dirt parking lot, occupying the same spot as earlier, when I notice the black motorcycle pulled up on the walkway in front of the office again. He is here.

We go our separate ways, making plans for another “family dinner” the following night. I think the boy is searching for something more than I can give him. But then again, most kids his age are. I just know I can see a good friendship developing between the two of us, and that is as far as I can let it go.

I lock myself in my room and open the shades so I can view the dark and empty lot. I hope to catch another look at the hot stranger on the motorcycle again.

An hour later, I’m sitting in front of my laptop when I hear the slam of a door somewhere. Maybe it’s him? I find my body working on autopilot and heading for the door. I grab the car keys and pretend I desperately need something out of my car. Without a sweatshirt to protect me from the cold New York fall night, I make my way for the car.

The cold November air is fucking freezing, and I realize this wasn’t the best thought out plan. I pop the trunk and start rummaging when I hear his voice. Deep and sultry.

“You are gonna get yourself sick like that.” He’s serious. His voice is fatherly and stern. A distinct tone of authority rings through it. Before I can turn around, I can feel his body towering over mine. He’s standing directly behind me. I’m not sure if I am scared or fucking thrilled. But there is one thing I know for sure; his voice alone has my cunt slick.

“I’m a big girl, but thanks for the concern, Dad,” I sass him. I’m pretty sure it was a bad idea, but I can’t help but laugh to myself. I don’t turn around and he continues to stand behind me. I figure he is thinking about his next move. I find the rogue shoe I was searching for in a cheap attempt to attract his attention. I stand upright and slam the trunk closed.

“Does Cinderella have a name?” he asks as I turn around, and when we make eye contact, I am completely sucked in. Done for. My fucking will is gone. It is replaced by animalistic desire for this sexy as fuck stranger.

“I prefer Cinderella, but if you must know, my real name is Star.” I give him a wink and head for my room. Heavy steps follow me; with each step, his boot meets the dirt with a loud thud. Not surprising for such a large man. I stop at the door, reaching for the keys.

“You following me, Prince Charming?”

I guess we are playing a fairytale game now, because he lets out a laugh. It is deep and goose bumps spread across my body. Maybe it is just the cold. I want to convince myself of that, but the fact is, the sound virtually made me come in my panties. Shit. I am in trouble.

“You gonna invite me in, Cinderella?”

No. I am not. The new Star wants to say no. The old Star is already naked on the bed. What would the middle of the road Star do? Maybe I should invite him in? Fuck. I hate making decisions, especially ones that seem so fucking important. I know this is going to be life changing, no matter what choice I make.

“Why would I go and do that?” Hard to get it is. I am through chasing guys.

My back remains toward him as I unlock the door.

He leans in so close his mouth almost grazes my ear, and he slowly speaks.

“Because I know you want to invite me in as bad as I want to come in.” I think he shattered the mere glass wall I had tried to erect in the past five minutes. It’s gone. My defenses are fucking finished. Gone. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

I open the door and let myself in. I stand in the doorway holding the door open, giving him an invitation to the place I now call home. His eyes look around, taking in all my personal touches. Custom designs by Star: clothes all over the bed, bags piled in the corner, and a vibrator just chillin’ on the nightstand. What? I didn’t know I was going to have company! A girl has needs!

He sits down in the rickety old chair next to the table in front of the window. The curtains are still wide open and the lone light of the parking lot shines directly into my room. At least we don’t have that much privacy.

“You know, I don’t even know your name,” I tell him. I know nothing about this man. Only that he is concerned about me getting sick from being out in the cold without a jacket. Why would he even fucking care?

“Chrome.” Of course he has some kind of biker nickname. From the cut I got a good view of earlier, it’s clear he is in some kind of motorcycle club. Apparently you must check in your real name when you join, so you can be called by some kind of accessory. I bet his friends are named shit like Sissy Bar or Prison Shank. Jesus. Christ.

“Interesting name,” I say as I pull my shoes off and slowly start to get comfortable for the night. Even if I have a stranger in my room.

“Says the woman named Star.” I want to laugh, but it’s true. How can I make fun of his nickname, when I am named after God knows what. Maybe a bad trip my parents had when they found out they were having a baby? Hey, it is a realistic fucking idea.

“Touche.”

He laughs again, and my insides completely melt on the spot.

“So why don’t you tell me about yourself, Star.”

Oh, we are playing the whole get to know you game? I figured that went out the window when he followed me into my hotel room. I am so not into games. He’s hot, but guys like this aren’t the get to know you type. They are the bag and bounce kind.

“Quit the games. What do you want? Blow job? Get your dick wet? Don’t play games. Just get it out in the open already.” I can’t help it. I’m just too blunt. Maybe something of Seven actually rubbed off on me all these years.

“Well, I guess you are straight to the point.”

The smile on his face starts to fade. The look that replaces it is dark, sexy. I’m not sure if I should be turned on, but I am. Men like this are going to be the death of me. Literally. One day I am going to invite the wrong guy in and he is going to fuck me, then kill me. Once again, I realize I have the worst fucking judgment skills. Or lack thereof.

“I wasn’t going to come on to you tonight, Star. But if you are offering…” His hand palms his sizable erection, which is pressing against his jeans. I can see every last inch of it. The only thing I want to do is drop to my knees and take him in my mouth, but I don’t. I choke down the giant lump in my throat as he stands.

Every ounce of self-control I have left in my body snaps like a rubber band, and I throw myself across the room at him. He catches my petite body and crushes me up against the wall next to the door. His full lips press against mine as he picks me up. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his wide waist, slowly realizing how massive of a man he really is.

My mouth has a mind of its own; each kiss I return with hunger. I part my lips and my tongue skims his bottom lip, asking for entry. He opens without any hesitation and I explore. He tastes delicious. Something fruity, maybe gum, or candy, mixed with the aftertaste of cigarettes. It seems like ages since I have shared such an intimate kiss with someone. We are frantic and passionate. We’re like high school kids who can’t get enough of each other.

Something bounces between our bodies. An electric charge. The energy fuels our desire as we go at it, up against the wall in my shitty hotel room. One arm lets go of my body and reaches down between us. My body slowly slides down his until I am on my feet once again, but he never once lets my mouth go. Not for a second.

His fingers go straight for the button on my jeans, but I have a better idea. I slowly pull my mouth away from his and drop to my knees. He has already freed his beautiful cock from the tight blue jeans, and it is definitely as impressive as it was inside those bad boys. That’s when I notice it. The piercing. Not your regular Prince Albert, the girly cock piercing of cock piercings. No, he has an apadravya, a beautiful barbell directly through the head of his cock. Clearly ribbed for her pleasure.

I slide my small hand down his delicious cock, lick my lips, and slowly suck the tip in between my lips, running my tongue up and down along the bead of the barbell. He leans forward, resting his arm against the wall to brace himself. My lips close around his throbbing dick and I take all nine inches down my throat. A growl vibrates through his body as my hands focus on playing with his smooth balls.

“God, you’re good.”

I laugh, even though his cock fills my throat, and that’s when I notice him: River. He is staring inside, his mouth hanging open. Under my heavy lidded eyes, I pretend I don’t see him standing there, watching. I can’t ignore him, but I don’t stop. I close my eyes and start to lick my way back up to the tip of Chrome’s cock. He pulls me to my feet. His mouth covers mine in a kiss full of possession. When I blink my eyes open once again, River’s gone. I try to move away from Chrome, to close the blinds, but he pins me against the wall.

“Nobody is out there this time of night. Don’t worry about the curtains.”

His fingers work the button on my jeans and roughly push them down my legs. I shimmy out of them and kick them across the room. Both of us still have our shirts on, and neither is in a hurry to lose them. He wraps his arm around my waist and picks me up off the ground again; my hands grasp onto his leather cut. Instead of wrapping my legs around him this time, I break the kiss.

“Condom” is all I can make out before his mouth is on mine again. He fumbles between our bodies, pushing me back against the wall, holding me in place with his massive body, as he rolls the latex down his rock hard cock. His hands caress up my body and dive right into my hair, once again completely skipping my t-shirt covered tits.

That’s when I feel it. His dick pushes against my soaking cunt. I can’t help but beg for it. To me, this is second nature. Something I am good at. Something I love. I don’t have much of that in my life, but I’m going to enjoy it tonight, because who knows when I will get a chance to fuck like this again.

“Fuck me, hard,” I say as my breath heaves in and out in quick pants. Chrome needs no encouragement; once he hears those words, he buries his dick so deep inside of me, I think I am seeing fucking stars. No. Fucking. Joke.

There is nothing romantic or loving about this. It is raw and carnal, frantic and passionate. There is something about each other we simply cannot get enough of. As his hard cock pumps in and out of me, I have to tell myself repeatedly that this is just sex because, for some God awful reason, for the first time in my life, it feels like so much fucking more.

A moan slips out from between my swollen lips into his mouth. My back slaps against the wall with each deeper thrust. I grip his cut and suck on his tongue while his pace quickens.

“Fuck,” he says briefly, breaking his mouth away from our kiss, and trailing his lips down the side of my neck. It’s an intimate action but I ignore the connection building in my own mind and remind myself: This is just sex. Really fucking good sex.

I am close. I can feel my orgasm building deep within my cunt. My moans grow louder, encouraging him. His thrusts get harder. Then, at once, we both let out strangled moans and share a release.

“Oh God! Oh God!” I scream while his mouth remains fixed at the base of my neck, breathing heavily into my damp skin. I can feel the wetness pouring out of my body, coating us both. My body goes limp between the wall and his strong embrace. Before I know it, I am moving across the room, half dressed and still holding on for fucking dear life. He carries me like I weigh nothing, only stopping once he reaches the bed. With one arm, he pulls the covers down, before tucking me in. I blink my eyes, taking in the sight before me.

Chrome stands at the door to the bathroom, pants around his ankles still, disposing of the used condom in the trash. Even after a round of mindblowing sex, his dick is impressive, which is more than I can say for some of the guys I have been with in the past. I try not to let him see me paying him attention, but he catches my stare.

“What are you thinkin’?” he asks me. I almost answer him. Until I realize a man just asked me what I am thinking after sex. I shake my head, and he drops the conversation. It looks like there is something he wants to say, but he stops. It’s better this way.

He pulls his pants back up, and heads for the door without looking back. Like that, Chrome walks out the door and out of my life.

Whatever just happened was more than just sex; there is no fucking way I am ready for anything more than just fucking to get off. Especially right now.

Thanks for mind-fucking me, you gorgeous fucking douchebag!

CHAPTER 5

The Art of Star

Once upon a time, long, long ago, I loved to paint. Not puppies or kittens. No flowers or people. Just paint. I would throw paint onto a canvas and actually use it as a way to express my pent up emotions. It was good for me as a little girl; I could get it out and I wouldn’t have to actually talk about what was eating at me. I’ve never been good at talking.

I laid in bed most of the night, thinking about what happened. The blowjob, River, Chrome, fucking him, the way I felt afterward. Everything that happened in the one day since I left New York City. The first day that was supposed to be the rest of my life, but quickly turned into a rerun of everything I had been doing for years. Maybe it was something I needed to get out of my system? I can hope.

I pick up some clothes from the top of the dresser: A fitted, long sleeve black and white striped top and a pair of jeans. Nothing fancy. For once, I don’t feel the need to stand out like a sore thumb.

I run a brush through my hair, scrub my teeth down, rinse with Listerine, and make my way for the door. I am a woman on a mission.

My phone rings and I stop in my tracks. Seven’s name appears on the screen and I immediately answer it. I’ve been waiting for this call, because her fancy as fuck private investigator is trying to track down any record of Willow. I’m anxious and my stomach twists and turns while I wait to see what she has come up with.

“Hello?”

“You know, when you fucking leave the city, you really should tell Katy where you are going so she isn’t blowing up my damn phone all day.” Shit. I completely forgot to call my manager before I skipped town. It’s common sense, something I unfortunately lack most of the time. Story of my damn life.

“My bad. I will get a hold of her today. I was in a hurry to leave. What’s up?”

Seven hesitates on the other end, before letting out a deep breath. I can’t see her face, but I already know this is going to be bad. She isn’t good at hiding shit from me, and I can pick up on her tone all the way across the state through this shitty cell connection.

“Davis is going to call you. He found something.”

My heart stops. I want to find Willow desperately, but I doubt I want to know exactly what he found. It’s an internal battle I face on a daily basis. Do I want to be crushed if I can never find her? Will I end up more damaged than I already am? Will it be healing? Fuck, I hate thinking about it all. The line is still silent, and I know Seven is waiting for me to say something. She doesn’t want to break the awkward silence between us.

“Okay, can you have him give me a call now?”

She pauses, and I wait. I’m still standing by the door of this shitty, dated motel room; I somehow make my way across the room to sit on the edge of the unmade bed.

“Yes, let me give him a call. And remember, Star?” I just wait for whatever reassurance she is going to try and give me. “Everything is going to turn out just as it is meant to be. Okay?” I nod, as if she can see me. I want to cry; I can feel the tears welling in my eyes already.

“Uh huh” is all I can get out before the line goes dead.

Moments later, my phone rings again. An unknown number pops up on the screen. It is the moment I have been waiting for since I came clean and told Seven all about the little girl I gave up so many years ago.

“Yes?” I answer the phone with my typical cocky tone, trying to hide the impending breakdown.

“Davis here. Miss James said you are available now. Do you have a pen and piece of paper?”

I scramble around the room looking for something. My laptop still sits open on the table from the evening before, and I run in that direction, tripping over my discarded shoes.

“Yes, I’m ready.” My fingers rest on the keyboard as I prop the phone up to my ear with my shoulder. My hands hover above the keys and shake with nerves. I inhale a deep breath and hold it, waiting for him to give me whatever he found.

“Willow James was adopted legally by Raine and Jeffery Driscoll. The adoption was legalized on February 14th, 2003. They changed her name but the record of that was sealed. Her last name, of course, would remain Driscoll. Willow’s last known address was in Brooklyn.” He pauses for a moment, and I continue typing out all the information. This is a great start, and I am optimistic that I can find her.

“Raine and Jeffery Driscoll are deceased.”

With those words, my heart stops. He gave me all of the good news first, and now I brace for the shitty news. I take another deep breath and listen.

“Their minor children were turned over into the custody of a Wesley Driscoll of Jefferson Heights. I’m unsure how he is related to Raine and Jeffery. I will email you his last known address, and I will continue looking for any information I can come up with on my end. Okay?”

The line is quiet. He is waiting for me to answer, but I’m not even sure what to say. Yes, the adoptive parents are dead, but she is alive. At least, I hope.

This is good. This is a really good start.

“Thank you, Davis. I appreciate all the hard work you are putting into this. If you come up with anything else, please let me know. If you could come up with anything on Wesley, could you please let me know?”

I may not be mother of the year, but I want to know who is responsible for taking care of Willow. Mine or not, I’m starting to channel the maternal instinct I never thought I would possess.

“No problem, Miss Bloom. Please, let me know if there is anything else you need.”

Like that, he is gone and the line is dead. My phone buzzes with an email with the addresses and information he gave me over the phone, and I smile. A genuine smile. I am happy, which is something I haven’t known very often in my life.

Who would have thought I could actually find an art supply store in this little podunk town? Well, given the number of hippie burnouts, it shouldn’t be that surprising.

After having a bagel at Maggie’s, I took a drive downtown, where all the little shops are. Bright and full of tie dye blankets, old Woodstock posters, and the smell of pot always in the air. It is hippie culture mixed with a bit of nostalgia. They are the comforts of home, even though I never thought I would be comforted by this town.

I toss every paint color of the rainbow into my basket and make my way for the brushes. I load up on every single thing I can think of using. Things I wanted when I was a little girl, but we could never afford. I make one last stop at the blank canvases and grab five different sizes and head for the register. I can barely carry everything, and I am sure if anyone was watching me it would be fucking comical. I place the canvases down before straining to lift the basket onto the counter next to them.

That’s when I notice her, before she sees me. The woman working behind the counter is Seven’s mother. Actually working, for once in her life; it is absolutely unreal. I pray she won’t notice me, but I am pretty fucking sure it is too late.

“Starburst? Is that you?” She nervously pushes her long gray and white braid over her shoulder and starts to make her way around the counter with her arms extended. I don’t want her to hug me, but I know she’s going to. It will be uncomfortable, like any affection Seven or I received from our parents over the years has been. Our mothers don’t have a maternal bone in their bodies, even if they try.

“Yes, Mama Joni. It’s me.” I just want to pay for my fucking paint and leave. I feel like a broken child all over again. I fucking hate it. I hate the way any of our parents make me feel. Every time I look at any of them, I can hear the moans coming from the bedroom they all shared. I can hear the heavy breathing, the panting, the bodies slapping against each other. It’s fucking gross.

“It’s been so long, baby girl, so long! What brings you back to Woodstock?”

I want to tell her I’m searching for the baby she and her BFFs stole from me, but I don’t want them to know I am looking. All I need is them getting in the way. She seems just as anxious as I am about my reappearance in town, though.

When I became pregnant with Willow, it was a community effort to take her away. Not only did my mother easily convince my father that I could never take care of a baby, but Joni also put the final nail in the motherhood coffin with the threats of Blue being around more. I didn’t believe her, but then again, I was young and impressionable. The thought of him puts me on edge because of his craptastic behavior toward me the moment I ended up pregnant. His years of abuse I could almost tolerate because in some sick, fucked up way I loved him. I loved the attention he showed me. The connection I craved with another human being. I said no, I realize this. Then I hurt for a long time. I should have reported it and sent him to jail. Instead, I feel for him. Just showing how much of a lost cause I always was. Needless to say, I hate them both. Deeply.

“Just taking a little break from the city. Wanted a little quiet time to myself.” Okay, so it’s only a half lie. I do want quiet time. I do want a break from the city. So I am only omitting certain facts.

“Painting, huh? You were always such an artistic little girl.” I want to ask her what the fuck she would know of me as a little girl. She and my parents were always too fucking busy doing drugs or fucking each other to know what I may have been good at. My own parents never fucking noticed, I am pretty damn sure this bitch didn’t, either.

“Yeah, helps clear my head.” Can this fucking awkward conversation just end so I can get the fuck out of here? Next time I will drive a half hour to the big box craft store just to avoid running into her. I’m sure she will run right back to my parents and tell them I am somewhere within the city limits. It is going to be a big family reunion that I don’t want to deal with. The only person from my family I had planned on spending any time with was Journey, my baby sister.

Coming to Woodstock, I had no idea my parents had migrated back to this area. They never stayed anywhere long but, according to Journey, this time they had been here quite a while.

“Have you seen Seven lately? Blue?”

That’s it. I want to punch this bitch in the cunt. I’m done. I am just fucking done. Rage pumps through my veins as I think about all the times they left me with their piece of shit son. How they knew, as a teenager, he knocked me up and walked away. What the fuck does she expect me to say? Yeah, we did brunch last week. Dumb bitch.

“Oh, your son who raped me all those years ago? No, can’t say I’ve seen him,” I lie. The reality is he was pounding away at my pussy mere days ago. She grimaces at my words. How the fuck does that feel? She proceeds to start ringing up my supplies. She understands, to an extent, that she’s upset me.

“I’m sorry, Star. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

She continues ringing without making eye contact. I throw my credit card on the counter and turn to watch the townsfolk walking up and down the street. The cool fall weather is just starting to roll in, and people are decorating their shops for Halloween. Some sit with guitars on the sidewalk playing old Dylan songs, while a little girl in the distance hula hoops. Like it or not, this is home. It is a beautiful little town, and even though it holds so many bad memories, there are some good mixed in there.

Maybe it’s the rat race of the city that has worn my soul down? Maybe it’s the years of dealing with Blue? Whatever it is that I have gone through since I left, I pray Woodstock will be able to heal it this time around.

Closing the car door and popping the trunk open, I start to pull out all the art supplies. Walking around the car, I unlock my motel room door, and prop it open so I can start carrying all my goodies in. I’m like a child on Christmas morning. Not even the run in with Seven’s mother can ruin my mood. It almost did, but knowing I am going to dive into something I love refreshes me.

The office door swings open, and River stands there, looking at me. His plain black t-shirt hangs free while he rubs his hands up and down his arms. No smile is in sight and I know why. His green eyes break my gaze, and when I smile at him, he doesn’t return the gesture.

“Hey, Star,” he says as I walk by with a couple large canvases in my hands.

“Whats up, River?” I reply once I come back out. My plan? Act casual, as if I didn’t notice him peering in my window the night before while I blew some stranger. I mean, for fuck’s sake, the entire world has seen me deep throat a couple dozen cocks. What’s the big deal this time around?

“Can we talk about last night?” He picks at a hangnail and tries to avoid eye contact. What do I do? Continue playing stupid. I’m so good at it.

“What about last night? We still on for dinner tonight?”

I want him to say yes because I need a friend. I don’t want him to think of me differently, and I wish he hadn’t seen that. But it is bothering him, and if I am going to get this whole friend thing down, I need to stop being such a fuck up. God knows I have fucked over Seven more times than I can count. I need to make amends with her, too; isn’t that part of the twelve step program or something?

“What I saw, in the window. I thought…” He trails off before running his fingers through his jet black hair. “I saw what you were doing.” He doesn’t want to say it. Is he embarrassed? I thought boys his age would be hitting on me after something like that. Trying to get their own rocks off; instead, he looks like he is genuinely hurt.

“I’m sorry you saw anything, River. I should’ve had the blinds closed. I hope this won’t affect our friendship. I really need a friend.” For the first fucking time in my life, I speak and the God’s honest truth comes out of my mouth. I can do this. I can fucking be a good friend.

“It’s just… I thought…” Oh, I can see where this is going. Oh no. I have to fix this; I don’t want to lead this poor boy on.

“River, I don’t know what you are looking for. But I can tell you, I am not the woman to give it to you. I’m not looking for a relationship. I am here for a short period of time, just to figure out my life. That’s it. Please, don’t think of me as anything more than a friend. If you like me, give me your friendship, because that is what I need right now.” I pause and pick up another bag out of my trunk before slamming it shut.

“Please, I need a good friend right now. I enjoyed our time hanging out last night. I need that to help me get through this. Will you be my friend?”

I feel bad, because I think I just broke his heart. But at the same time, I need to set the record straight. I want his friendship. I don’t want a twenty-one year old boy following me around with a puppy dog crush. He shrugs.

“I get it. It’s cool. Dinner tonight at Maggie’s again?”

I nod my head in agreement.

“Same time.” I turn to head into my room, when he stops me once again.

“Hey, Star, I gotta bring my little sister with me tonight. That cool?”

I’m not normally a kid person, but then again, I am on this journey to find my own kid. I can’t really be upset that his little sister is going to be tagging along.

“That’s fine.” And like that, I drag the last bag into my motel room and proceed to dump everything out on my bed. I’m like a little kid after a day in the toy store, gushing over all the new supplies I have been wanting for ages. This afternoon, I am going to take it all with me up into the woods and paint in the peace and quiet of nature.

It may not sound like much to anyone else. But to me, it is exactly what I fucking need.

It isn’t until I pull into the dirt parking lot off the old mining road that I notice someone following me. It isn’t just any person, either. It’s a big man, on a loud motorcycle. Had he not had the familiar cut and bandana, I wouldn’t have recognized him. Maybe listening to loud music wasn’t the best choice on the way out here, but I was rockin’ out to Janis!

I put the car into park and grip the steering wheel. This guy gets under my skin like no one else. I want to get out of the car and yell at him. But instead I sit behind the wheel and completely ignore him. Like I don’t know he is pulling his motorcycle alongside my car.

I pick up the fabric bag packed with all my art supplies on the passenger seat and swing the door open. I open the trunk and start to pull out my stand and the single canvas I brought for the afternoon. Completely ignoring him still.

“Hey,” I hear his voice coming from behind me. My heart skips a beat, or possibly just fucking stops. I have to choke down the lump in my throat.

I turn to face him, and he smiles at me. I’m taken aback, because a man like this doesn’t smile. Ever. I want to return the smile, but that would make shit way too easy, wouldn’t it?

“Following me? Don’t you think that’s a bit desperate?” I want to laugh. He got what he wanted last night; why is he here now? Why do men have to be so confusing?

“So what if I was?” The smile fades and his stone-faced expression is back.

“You got what you came for last night, so why are you following me?”

I turn back around, pick up my supplies, and start walking for the path. I get a whole five steps in the opposite direction before his voice stops me once again.

“What did I come for? I mean, since you know me so well.”

“Sex. No strings. You know, just a quick fuck.”

He was out the door as soon as we were done. How can he claim anything different? Damn it, I am over fucking thinking this. This afternoon was supposed to be quiet, relaxing, a chance to focus on me. Instead, I am taunting a large biker in the middle of nowhere. He could kill me and bury me out here and no one would ever know I was missing. Fuck. My. Life.

“You’re right, Star. I was only looking for a quick fuck.” He takes a step. I can hear his heavy boots against the dirt and gravel. “But once I left, I wanted to come back. Fuck…” He shakes his head just as I start to turn around.

He’s gorgeous. Every inch of him radiates sex on a mother fucking stick. Dark blue jeans hug all the right curves, accentuating his growing hard-on front and center. A black thermal hugs his torso, leaving no muscular curve to the imagination. His cut hangs from his shoulders and a folded red bandana is tied around his smoothly shaved head. I’ve fucking died and gone to biker heaven.

“I don’t fucking do this shit. I don’t play games. I don’t fucking date. Hell, I am barely ever fucking around, but I want you. Again.”

He takes another step in my direction, waiting to gauge my reaction. I want to throw myself at him, but that would be too desperate. And I am not fucking desperate by any damn means.

“I don’t know what to say to that.” I honestly don’t. I want him, but what exactly does he want? He’s fucking speaking in cryptic man, but then again, I don’t think he has a fucking clue as to what he is looking for, either.

I rest the art supplies against the side of my car and lay my canvas on the hood, folding my arms over my chest and facing him. My mind is flying a million miles an hour and my stomach is slowly tying into a million knots, but I still want to hear him out.

“Tell me it’s okay, Star.”

He takes a step closer to me, but I don’t know what he is asking me. What is okay? What does he want from me?

I take a few steps backward until I’m pressed up against the back door of my car. But he doesn’t stop moving toward me. His body presses against mine, and all I can do is look up into his deep brown eyes. I wait for him to make the next move while I take in all of his features. Everything about him is dark and dangerous. Yet I am slowly starting to feel more and more comfortable around him.

It’s been a day. A fucking day. I should run screaming from him. Get back in my car and leave. But I actually want to stay here with him. In the middle of fucking Michael Myers woods.

“I can’t tell you anything I don’t know, Chrome.”

I barely get the words out, and his mouth crashes against mine. There is this magnetic pull between us. I want to pull away, but I just can’t. My lips instinctively part for him, allowing him entry to my mouth, and he takes full advantage of it. Our tongues collide, caressing each other in a fluid battle.

Chrome slowly pulls away and interlocks his fingers together on the top of his head. He lets out a long sigh and turns to walk away. He stops, throwing his hands down to his side, and mumbling something under his breath. I can’t hear him, but if he was to do this in public, I am pretty sure someone would want to lock him up for being damn near crazy.

“I need to be inside you again.”

His words send a shockwave through my body. I want the same but I also want to punch him in the face. Is this supposed to be his sad attempt at some kind of pickup line? Jesus, fuck!

I don’t say anything. I just watch him. He paces back and forth, waiting for me to reply, which I am clearly not going to. Does he expect me to just let him become a frequent flyer? Whenever he’s in need of a piece of cunt, he comes crawling this way? I can’t be that kind of girl anymore. Yet all I want to do is let him bend me over the hood of my car.

You can take the girl out of the porn, but you can’t take the porn out of the girl.

“I can’t do this with you. I can’t do this, period.”

I wave my hand back and forth between the two of us. This is what honesty feels like. I don’t want to admit it, but whatever the fuck this is, as good as it feels, is only going to blow up in both of our faces. I didn’t come here for hook ups; I came here to find me. Maybe this is a part of my fucked up self, but I don’t need a biker without a real fucking name being my self-discovery.

He leans in closely before whispering in my ear, “Just one last time.”

I want to say no, but I can’t. Excitement courses through my body as he grabs me by the hand and leads me over to the beautiful monster of a motorcycle. I blindly follow without a care in the world. The internal battle I am having with myself stops, because frankly, I am annoyed with myself at this point. I am sure you want to punch me in the face too, right? It’s okay, I can totally accept that.

Throwing one leg over the bike, he straddles the seat and extends his arm for me. I take it, not sure what he has planned. He’s in charge. This is his goodbye. I will let him have his way. I’ve never been much for a man taking charge, but something about him just makes it seem right. He guides my leg over the bike, and I straddle the seat, facing him. It’s awkward but hot.

He raises his hand, and snakes it through my short brown locks, grasping his fingers in a tight fistful. Fuck, I love my hair being pulled. Need courses through my body as my jeans slowly become soaked from his touch. His mouth lowers to mine, kissing and biting at my plump bottom lip. His free hand unzips my hoodie and snakes right up my shirt. I feel like we are in high school all over again. His callused hand grazes my bare breast for the first time, before cupping it and thumbing my hard nipple.

Without thought, I let out a moan, and he instantly reacts. Chrome pulls me closer and his erection presses against my throbbing clit, both still covered by our jeans.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, letting go of me completely. He pulls away and reaches down to his boot. “I can’t fucking wait any longer.”

In his hand, he holds a small switchblade. My life officially flashes before my eyes. Why the fuck does he have a knife? My face molds with horror, because he raises both of his hands in surrender before he speaks.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Star. I promise.”

His body leans forward and he kisses me again. This time it isn’t frantic or lustful. It is sweet and comforting. I slowly relax against his body as he leans me back against the tank of his motorcycle.

“Don’t move,” he whispers, before leaning back, flipping the blade open, and slicing the crotch of my jeans. I’m not sure whether to be pissed he just ruined my jeans, or hot as fuck that he just cut them open so he can fuck me on his motorcycle in broad daylight. Eventually, hot as fuck wins out in my mind. Damn it.

He closes the knife and bends down to put it back in his boot while I reach between the two of us rubbing my fingers along the bulge in his jeans before I finally free his cock from the straining jeans. Fuck, it is so beautiful, each ridge and piercing makes me want to drool right there. I run my hands up and down his length, watching his face soften into a look of genuine pleasure. I can see this hard-ass man letting his guard down and enjoying the pleasure I am giving him. His lips part slightly and he lets out a low moan that vibrates through my entire body landing right in the cunt. I ache for him to fill me.

All I can remember is last night when his hard cock slid inside my pussy. The cool steel of his pierced dick pressed against all the right spots, as his impressive erection filled me so fucking perfectly. A chill runs through my body and I want him deep inside me.

“Condom?” I pant, in between taking his mouth with force. He reaches into his pocket and hands the small foil packet over. I anxiously rip it open. I’m pretty sure this is about to be the hottest fuck of my life. Last night was good, but I’ve been around the block more than I care to think about, and this, it doesn’t touch a single goddamn time.

I roll the latex down his thick cock, continuing to work him with my hand. He lets out a low sultry growl before picking me up by my waist, and sliding my aching wet cunt right down his rock hard dick. My feet lock on the passenger pegs of the bike and I take control. Slowly lifting my ass up and down, I ride his dick as he lies back, enjoying himself.

“You like my pussy?” I can’t help but ask. I have a dirty mouth, and by the look on his face, he isn’t going to last long at all. It is fucking sexy, and I don’t want this to end. I can’t help but quicken my pace. Both of his hands find my bare tits once again, squeezing and playing as I continue to bounce up and down on his dick.

“Oh fuck, I love it. Don’t fucking stop.”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to make me want to come all over his cock. I slow my pace, hoping to drag out a couple more moments of pleasure, but it’s a fucking lost cause. The piercing through the head of his cock grazes against my g spot and I am fucking done. I throw my head back, slamming down onto his dick one final time, and screaming his name.

“Fuck! Chrome! Oh my fuck!”

My pussy releases the flood gates; I squirt all his jeans and the seat of his bike. He grabs onto my hips and slams into my cunt two more times before he grunts and I can feel his dick twitching as he empties inside the barrier. His arms wrap around my body, holding me tight against his chest as he falls back onto the seat of the bike. I pant, trying to catch my breath, but I think it is going to take hours to accomplish that.

“Did you fucking squirt?” He laughs after he says it and my face starts to burn with embarrassment. Some people find squirting incredibly hot; others think it is the grossest thing on Earth. I’m torn, but I don’t have much of a choice because, when I get off, it’s a motherfucking waterfall. Apparently, that is just how God built this bitch.

I turn my head away from him, resting it on his shoulder before I reply.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I try not to let the shame ring through my voice, but it probably does anyway.

“That was the fucking hottest thing I have ever fucking seen in my life. I’ve seen that shit in porn for years, but never in person. Jesus, Star.”

I hate it when people say shit like that. It’s embarrassing to me, I know it shouldn’t be, but it always has been. I need to walk away. I have to get the fuck away from him. This is it. I can’t carry this on because he has some perversion for my vaginal waterfall. No fucking way.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

If his dick wasn’t still inside me, I probably would have gotten up and run away. But I can’t fucking move. I try and pull away but he tightens his grip.

“I can’t. I have plans tonight.”

“You aren’t going out to dinner with River tonight.” He says it with an authoritative tone. Like he actually get some kind of a say in the matter. But then it fucking hits me. How the fuck does he know what I am planning on doing for dinner? Creeper!

I pull away, using the pegs to stand up. His dick slips out of me and I throw my leg over the seat, trying to escape. Doesn’t work though.

“How the fuck do you know what I was planning on doing?” I should be trying to fix myself, but there isn’t much to fix besides my disheveled hair. I am fucking fully dressed, even though I was just being fucked six ways to Sunday.

“You think my brother didn’t try and rub it in my face after he saw us last night?”

Did he just fucking say brother? The one friend I have tried to make in this town, and of course, I just fucked his brother. Could I have fucked up any worse? No wonder River was so upset. I am so blind, a fucking space cadet. I should have been able to connect the dots yesterday when Chrome almost ran me over leaving the hotel office. It all makes perfect fucking sense now.

“I can’t do this.”

I lift up my hand to push away from him. He tries to hold onto me, but I wiggle myself free, grabbing my art supplies and making my way back to the car. I can paint right in the center of town, where everyone can see me and no one will bother me. Especially Chrome.

“Star, wait.” It’s all I hear as the engine comes to life. I have to fucking get out of here. I just can’t do this. I feel bad, but this is all too fucking much. I crack the window slightly, while I back my car past Chrome, standing next to his bike.

“I’m sorry” is all I can say. I sit and I stare at him, but he has nothing nice to say in response. And I fear I don’t deserve nice anyway. No matter how hard I try to get my shit together, I continue to fall flat on my fucking face.

“Fuck you, bitch.” I deserve it. It shouldn’t hurt because he is nobody to me. Just another guy in my never ending chain of hookups. But it does hurt. It stings, like when I fuck up with Seven and she lashes out at me. It stings like the hurt of my childhood. It actually caused an emotional ping in my normally numb body. And I hate every minute of it. I only wish I knew why he was so deep under my skin in no time flat.

CHAPTER 6

The Dinner

The rest of my day goes as planned. I sit on the steps of an old abandoned hippie shop on Main Street and paint. My mind races, thinking about everything impacting my life right now, which normally would send me into some kind of anxiety attack, or searching high and low for my next fix, but instead, it’s freeing. I can already tell that painting is going to be the best substitute for therapy ever.

Later, after I’ve freshly showered, I slip into a floor length black Maxi dress, and pull a pink cardigan over myself to protect me from the cold October evening. My phone vibrates on the nightstand; Seven is front and center on the screen again. Twice in one day isn’t typical for her. Especially recently. After everything went down, we’ve been trying to distance ourselves from each other. I give her the space she needs because I know I am the one who fucked up. It’s something I have learned to live with daily. She is helping me with finding Willow, but other than that, our relationship has significantly cooled off. Which I think is probably better off in the long run.

“Hello?” I hit the speaker button and continue moving around the small room, brushing my hair and getting ready to head out to Maggie’s for dinner shortly.

“Star, you saw my mother today?”

Ugh, I really should have at least sent her a text about it. It just slipped my mind after everything with Chrome happened.

“Yeah, she was working at this little art store downtown. She was acting all sketchy.” What else is new from her? Seven’s quiet on the other end of the line for far too long.

“She called me today. She wants me to come up next weekend. Something about some family news she has.”

Interesting, for sure. Over the years, family news sessions have always centered around some kind of a scandal, or someone being in serious fucking trouble. We rarely got in trouble as kids, but when we actually did, it was bad. I still firmly believe every fucked up thing we did or caused was their own damn fault, though. Never watching us. Never paying attention to us. Never caring what the fuck we were doing. That isn’t what parents are supposed to do.

“What did you say?”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want Seven to come and visit. I miss her. It has only been a couple days, but it’s been a couple days too long. Even though it is the worst idea ever.

“I’ll be there next Friday. Just poke around and see if you can find anything out. I know you don’t want anything to do with them, but…” Her voice trails off.

“I owe you,” I cut her off before she can say anything else. If I was being completely honest, I owe her my entire life. There’s no way I would be alive today if it wasn’t for her bailing me out so many times over the years.

“I’m heading out for dinner, I will give you a call tomorrow.” I end the call, picking up my purse and heading for the door. I told River I would meet him at Maggie’s tonight, and if I don’t get out of here now, I am going to be late.

I lock the door and turn for my car when I notice a parking lot full of motorcycles. I am sure Chrome’s is part of the pack, but I won’t be sticking around to find out. The sooner I get out of here, the better.

I sit down at the table and order a glass of water. I learned my diner soda lesson last night. Never. Again. I look over the menu trying to pick out what tickles my fancy for the night while I wait for River. I pick up my phone and text my little sister, Journey; while I’m in Woodstock, I do want to see her. Out of all my family members, she is the one I worry about the most, because she never wanted to leave our parents like Paisley and I did once we had the chance.

I’m in Woodstock, kiddo.

I sit and wait for her reply; it isn’t long before my phone chimes. I can feel the excitement radiating from her reply before I even pick up the phone.

SQUEEE! When can I see you?!!??!!?!?

Journey is the youngest of the Bloom children. Three girls. I’m the oldest, Paisley is twenty five now, and Journey is the baby at nineteen. When I left, I worried about how she would fare without me protecting her from everyone and everything, like no one ever did for me. I worried about someone like Blue, or Blue himself, fucking her up for life.

Come by the motel tonight. I am in room 101 right next to the office. I will text you when I am back from eating.

Just as I look up from my phone, I see River walking through the door of Maggie’s. A petite little girl with big green eyes and dark brown hair stands next to him. She is the spitting image of River. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was his daughter, because they look that much alike. She skips down the aisle behind him, holding onto her American Girl Doll with one hand and toting a Strawberry Shortcake backpack on her shoulders. She is absolutely beautiful.

“Sorry we’re a couple minutes late,” River offers in apology. Scarlett slips into the booth and he follows.

“It isn’t a big deal at all,” I wave him off. I smile at Scarlett, who is quietly investigating me across the table. I extend my hand to her.

“Hi, I’m Star. And you must be Scarlett. I’ve heard a lot about you from your brother.” I smile in his direction, and it seems like the girl starts to relax just a little bit. She smiles at me, while she puts her doll down on the bench seat next to her.

My attention shifts when I hear the bell, and there he stands. Chrome. Why the fuck is he here? Damn it all to hell!

Scarlett turns to see him, and pushes past River, barreling down the small aisle toward the giant man. He’s huge compared to her; hell, he is fucking huge compared to everyone.

“Daddddddddy!” the girl screeches as she throws herself into his arms. Did she just say Daddy? My body stiffens. Someone lied. Daddy? He’s her father? How? What? Who? The questions flood through my mind and River just sits there, staring at me. I want to punch him. Why would he lie to me about his little sister, too? What fucking game are they all playing?

Chrome and Scarlett walk back to the table. Scarlett climbs back into the booth next to River, and Chrome turns to me, and smiles.

“This seat taken?” He hints at the seat right next to me. I don’t want him to sit down here, but I’m not about to make a scene in front of this little girl. That would just be wrong. I may not have a lot of morals, but I can act like a fucking decent human being sometimes.

“Of course not. Have a seat, Daddy.” I can’t help myself. His large body squeezes into the booth next to me, and he squeezes my upper thigh under the table. He leans in close, whispering,“We’ll talk after dinner.”

Hesitation is clear on his face. He doesn’t want to tell me, but I am already in too deep with this little family.

My phone buzzes with a text from Journey.

See you around 8.

Mr. Fucking Nosy eyes the screen of my phone and stiffens while he reads the message. River and Scarlett sit on the other side of the table, picking out what sounds good to eat. She’s begging for dessert instead of a grilled cheese, but River isn’t bending at all. Eventually she gives up, just as her glass of strawberry milk arrives. A girl after my own damn heart.

“Who was that?” Chrome’s breath on my neck sends a chill through my body. Why the fuck should he care?

“My sister, not that it is any of your fucking business.” I try to be quiet, but River can tell something is brewing between the two of us.

I shouldn’t fucking care. I shouldn’t give a flying fucking shit about this guy, or his kid, or his fucking life. I don’t want to care about any of it at all. But I do, and after a single damn day, it is driving me insane. My plan to walk away clearly isn’t working as well as I would have liked. Maybe I don’t want him to go away. I don’t know what the fuck I want. I want to find my daughter. That is what I want. That’s why I came to Woodstock and that is what I am going to do. And I’m not going to let him or anyone else get in my way.

“So, how was painting today, Star?” River interrupts before I have the chance to tell Chrome off. He tries to smile, but it just comes off looking forced and painful.

“It was great. When I finally got around to it. I ended up getting interrupted by some ass when I went up to the mining road. So I came back to town and painted on the steps of the old ice cream shop. Stop by the room tonight; I’ll show you.” I give him a genuinely warm smile. Talking about painting is probably the highlight of my day, besides the act itself.

“You paint, Miss Star?” Scarlett’s face lights up; she is full of childlike curiosity. She really is a pretty little girl. Now that I look, I can see the resemblance between her and Chrome. She is almost a carbon copy of him, minus her bright green eyes.

“I do. I just started again after not painting for a really long time. When I was your age, I loved it. How old are you?”

She immediately sits up straight and replies.

“I am ten! Just turned ten on September 11th.”

I can’t help but smile, a big toothy grin. Her happiness is absolutely fucking infectious. The men at the table sit smiling and watching our conversation without saying a word.

“I was about ten years old when I first started to paint. Maybe one day we can do some painting together?” The offer is genuine. Even if I want to stab her Dad in the fucking eye with a toothpick.

“Can we do it tomorrow? I don’t have school tomorrow. It’s Saturday. There isn’t any school on the weekend. We can paint tomorrow, and Sunday!” Her words spill out of her mouth a mile a minute. She is bursting at the seams with excitement. I know it would break her heart, and a piece of her soul, if I told her no. I can’t be that person.

“Of course. Maybe one of these guys can bring you to the art shop on Main Street to meet me tomorrow? We will get you some supplies and paint downtown.” I look between the men and Chrome nods.

“We’ll talk about it after dinner. I have to talk to Miss Star in private first, okay, Scarlett?” Chrome speaks so sweetly to the little girl. She nods at him, but the smile doesn’t fade. She must know how much of a pushover he is for her. I can tell just by the way he looked at her when she started rambling on about painting together tomorrow.

The conversation flows over dinner, mainly led by a ten-year-old version of what I imagine I would have been, had Blue never gotten his hands on me and fucked up my bright spirit. I don’t know what it is about her, but I just want to scoop her up and protect her from the world. Maybe it’s my past, and the fact that I craved someone to protect me from him for all those years. But it is more than clear that she doesn’t need anyone protecting her, because the two men sitting at this table would clearly give their lives for her.

I watch Chrome’s interactions with her, and one of the walls I put up to keep him out crumbles. Underneath that badass biker persona is a caring human. I guess all those biker stereotypes about pieces of shit really don’t give an accurate depiction of the people they really are under the motorcycle club emblems and obscene amounts of leather.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Chrome says as he makes his way for the door of Maggie’s. I don’t watch or pay attention to anything he is doing. I try to tell myself I don’t care, even though I am genuinely curious. I try and talk myself out of it, but I end up watching him walk out the door, while continuing to pay attention to River and Scarlett.

The waitress makes her last round, distributing the bill, and when I reach for my purse, it isn’t in the booth next to me. I could have sworn I brought it in with me, but it is nowhere to be found.

“I gotta run out to my car. I think I left my bag there.” River nods, and I smile at Scarlett. “I’ll be right back, and we can talk to your Dad about painting tomorrow.”

Out the door, and down the front steps of Maggie’s, I round the corner of the old metal building toward my car. I open the passenger side door and there it is. Sitting right on the seat where I clearly forgot it earlier. I close the door and turn for the building when I hear a noise by the dumpster. It’s a strangled moan, or a cry. Whatever it is, it catches my attention. I take a couple steps in the direction of the sound. That’s when I hear it. His moan. That throaty growl. I could pick it of a crowd.

I open the brown fence door that closes off the back of the diner, and there’s Chrome. He’s leaning against a brick wall, his eyes closed, with some blonde on her knees in front of him sucking his dick. It shouldn’t bother me. I shouldn’t be upset. It shouldn’t feel like my heart was just ripped right out of my chest. But it does. I slowly started to open myself up once again, despite the fact that everything surrounding this man screams, run the fuck away. I’m a motherfucking idiot.

I let out a gasp and the blonde turns around, with Chrome’s dick still in her hand. “The fuck you lookin’ at?”

She’s ugly. Really ugly. Dark circles around her eyes, ratty clothes, and her long blonde hair hangs in dreadlocks. She looks like she has been fucking rode hard and put up wet. My gaze scans upward and my eyes meet Chrome’s.

“I should have fucking known better,” I say before I turn to walk away. I don’t look back. I will never look back. I am fucking done looking back.

I take my purse and run back inside the diner. I throw a couple bills on the table, and I give River an apologetic look.

“Bring Scarlett by around ten tomorrow morning. I gotta go. You know where to find me.”

I turn and head for my car. I get inside and lock the door. I don’t know where he is, but I am not going to let him stop me. He can keep his blow job in the alleyway. I am fucking done. I throw the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot, heading for the hotel.

Once I’m safely inside my hotel room, I text Journey and let her know I’m not up for any visitors tonight. I know she’s going to be upset, but I don’t want her to see me like this.

I make plans to see her tomorrow night instead, to have dinner and catch up on life. Almost as if on cue, I hear a knock on the door. I know it’s Chrome, and I don’t want to see him. I really wish there was another place I could stay in this fucking town. This whole one motel shit is for the birds.

“Open up, Star.” River’s voice bellows through the closed hotel room door. I actually get up to let him in, simply because he isn’t his brother, who could be dead in that alley way, and I wouldn’t care.

“What the hell happened?” The words fly out of his mouth before I have a chance to even say hello. I’m upset, and he can see it. However, I just can’t bring myself to cry. I’m all cried out. I shed my last tear in New York City when I spilled my heart and soul to Seven. I have nothing left in me.

“I don’t want to get into it. I just had to get out of there.” I notice he’s alone.

“So, you don’t want to talk about it? About whatever is going on with you and my brother?” Going on with me and his brother? Nothing is going on with us. Nothing at all. Fucking absolutely nothing.

“There is nothing going on with us. We hooked up. That is all it was. Nothing more,” I say, as though I’m trying to convince myself, but I am doing a really bad job of it.

“Star, are you sure?” Why does this kid care about me so much? What have I done in my life that is actually good enough to deserve a real friend like him? Let alone after only a few days.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I lie. I shouldn’t lie to him and I feel bad. I am lying to myself, too, because I’m trying to insist that, whatever those hook ups were, it wasn’t anything worth writing home about. I’m a bad liar. I really am.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here. I gotta head home for the night, but if you want, here’s my number.” He scribbles some numbers down on a scrap piece of paper on my nightstand and heads for the door. Before he walks out, he turns to me, saying a few simple words that completely fuck my head all up.

“He isn’t the bad guy he tries to be. He’s been through a lot in the past couple years. I’m sorry he hurt you.”

Like that, he’s gone, and I’m alone with my thoughts. He isn’t a bad guy? He has been through a lot? The bad guy he tries to be? I don’t know what River is trying to get at, but I just can’t put much more thought into it. Because my sanity is slowly slipping and, for once in my life, it is the result of a fucking man I actually want to give a shit about. I wish I knew why. Maybe it’s because he appears just as broken as I am? Maybe I want to fix him? Maybe I just want to hide from my own fucked up life once again. This whole life makeover really isn’t going as I had planned, that is for sure.

I don’t get undressed. I just lie down on my bed and close my eyes. Eventually my mind quits and I drift off until a fucking rude, loud banging rips me from my peaceful slumber sometime around midnight.

“Fuck off!” I scream from my bed. “Wrong room!” The banging continues. It sounds like whoever is out there is about to come through the fucking door.

“Star, open the fucking door.” Chrome’s voice instantly shakes off the fuzzy just woken feeling coursing through my body, and sends me into high alert.

“Go away!” I scream as loud as I possibly can.. I punch the pillow before hurling it across the room at the door. The banging stops, and the quiet returns to the peaceful fall night. That is when I hear a key inside the lock and my motel room door swings open.

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” I yell at him. He stands in the doorway unfazed. He has a black eye, and the smell of alcohol reaches across the room.

“We need to talk,” he slurs, staggering a couple steps in the direction of my bed. He’s going to fall, and all I can think about is him riding his motorcycle completely shitfaced. There is no fucking way he wouldn’t kill himself like that.

“We don’t need to talk. You need to go.” I point toward the door, which is still wide open.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that.” Of course he didn’t. No one ever means to get caught in a compromising position. I never meant for Seven to see me fucking her brother. But it happened, and I know what it feels like.

“Of course you didn’t want me to see that. But I did. I don’t know what your game is, but I want you gone.”

I stand up, and creep out of bed, heading for the door. I turn in his direction, just as he collapses against my bed. Fuck. My. Life. I have the worst fucking luck.

I close the door and take a few steps in his direction. Is he awake? Did he pass out?

“Chrome, you need to go.”

He ignores me and starts on a drunken tirade of complete nonsense.

“I didn’t want to like you. But I do. I don’t like women. I use them. Since her.” His hands cover his eyes as I switch on the light. But he doesn’t stop talking. “She left me. She left me with a brand new baby. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. So, I gave it to my parents. I gave my kid away like it was a pair of sunglasses or a cookie.”

I cut him off because I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to know more about him. I don’t want a deeper connection. I don’t need him using me as his own fucking personal therapist. I have too much of my own shit to deal with.

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t do this. Please. If you care about me at all, get up and leave.”

He stops rambling, moves the hand shielding his eyes, and starts speaking again. Never breaking eye contact.

“I care. I don’t want to. I do. I care. I can’t leave you tonight. I can’t let you push me away.” It’s only half coherent. He isn’t making much sense. If I wasn’t so pissed off and emotionally fucked in the brain, I might be laughing at him.

Then, the worst fucking thing possible happens. The drunk bastard passes out on my bed. Out cold. All six fucking foot five inches is dead weight on the only place I have to sleep. I can’t help it. I start to laugh. Hysterically.

I left New York City to get away from nonsense and drugs. While I may not be blowing lines of coke left and right, or even fucking drinking, the nonsense seems to fucking follow me wherever I go. I am like a bullshit magnet. I guess it’s just karma biting me in the ass.

I yawn and realize there’s no way I am getting around sharing a bed with this guy. I’m paying for this fucking room, and I am sure as fuck sleeping. Not only that, but I have a date with his daughter in the morning. What have I gotten myself into?

I curl up along the top of the headboard, trying my best to keep my distance from the drunk at the foot of the bed. I lie there for hours, trying to sleep. I nod off on occasion, but never truly get any sleep. The daylight eventually tries to peek through the fabric curtains I pulled tightly shut. I made it through the night.

I slide off the bed and head to the bathroom. A tall glass sits next to the sink and I fill it with ice cold water. I am on a mission.

I’m a bitch. I can’t help it but I am annoyed, still, hours later.

I take the glass of water and pour it all over Chrome’s head. Drenching him, the bed, and the carpet in the process. I try not to laugh as he snaps awake, scrambling around and trying to take in his surroundings. He has no idea where he is.

“Time to wake up, sleeping ugly. Your daughter is going to be here in a little bit for our painting date, and I want you gone.”

He looks around the room and tries to focus his eyes on me, but I can tell he is in bad shape. I’ve been there, so I completely know the feeling. But this time around, I can’t sympathize or feel bad for him. I want him to hurt.

“Star, I came here to talk. I think we should talk before I go. Especially if you are going to be spending time with Scarlett.”

Well played, asshole. Use the girl as an excuse. I can’t say no now. I can’t not hear him out, because I can’t back out on the painting date I made with her. That would just be an asshole move on my part.

“Speak.” That is all I can say. I have nothing left. I don’t want to have this long, drawn out heart-to-heart. I want him to speak his peace and be on his way.

“I was really young. She was even younger. I had just turned twenty-four, and she was seventeen. Looking back, I think I could say I loved her. But I honestly didn’t know love until a few years ago. She was attracted to the dangerous biker life, but it was no place for a woman or a baby. I was foolish and let her hang around the club.” He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.

“We were together, but she was a club whore. She fucked anyone who wanted it. I knew, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking about getting married or having a future. I just wanted to live fast and have some fun. Then came Scarlett. I didn’t think she was mine, and I kicked Michelle to the curb. But when Scarlett was born, it was clear as day she was my daughter. From the day she was born, she looked just like me. I was a dick, and I made Michelle chase me around with a paternity order, which only confirmed what I already knew.” His face is full of pain. I feel bad to an extent. I may put on this bitch facade sometimes, but I hate to see anyone else hurting. Fuckin’ funny, huh?

“Michelle dropped Scarlett off with me and my parents for my Sunday visit. She was three months old. My mother loved her to fucking death. She would sit for hours and play with her. Coo at her and talk that bullshit baby talk. Michelle never came back to get her. We all waited, but she never showed. She had been drunk, driving her mother’s car, and crashed into a tree on her way to get Scarlett. Died on impact, leaving me with a brand new baby. I had no fucking clue what to do with her.” He rests his head in his hands. I am not sure if it is from the stress of the memory, or the fact that I am pretty damn sure his head is fucking pounding with a raging headache.

“I gave her to my parents. I didn’t know what else to do. They raised her as their own. Mom always wanted a little girl, after having three sons. But then they died. Scarlett and River came to live with me, because they were both still minors. That’s when shit changed. River still thinks of Scarlett as his sister, but we had to tell her the truth. I tried to become the best father I could be, with the circumstances of my life. Being on the road, being involved in the shit I am. When I am home, she is my world.”

What do you say to something like that? How do I reply to him? Do I spill my past? Do I let him know what I am doing in Woodstock? I just can’t.

“I know I am a dick, Star. I know I am a fucking piece of shit for what I did last night. I’m not going to make any excuses. I am reckless. I am a fucking womanizing piece of shit because that is all I have ever known. After Michelle, I never dated. I just did whatever I wanted. The whole ‘no strings attached’ shit. It is all I have ever known. I know it isn’t an excuse and, if I hurt your feelings, I’m sorry. Really.” He stands from the bed, adjusts his pants and shirt, and starts to walk toward the door.

“That chick earlier. I was just trying to get you out of my mind. You have taken over my thoughts. I never thought I would see a day like this.” He is frustrated, pissed, upset. A bundle of emotion and nerves, but I need to sort out everything he just told me.

“Tomorrow night, I leave ‘til Thursday. I’d like to see you again before I go, but I understand if you aren’t up for it. I’ll be picking up Scarlett at noon from the art shop.” He opens the door and is gone. Two days in a row, he has walked out of that door and taken a piece of me with him, and I fucking hate that I am so goddamn vulnerable to him. I don’t know why or how. I just know that whatever just happened isn’t going to just go away.

CHAPTER 7

Scarlett the Artist

“My favorite color is pink. I love all different shades of pink. Light pink, dark pink, my all-time fave is hot pink, though. I love Hello Kitty, too. I wish I could get a cat, but my Daddy won’t let me. He doesn’t think I am responsible enough yet. He said maybe for my next birthday,” Scarlett rambles on and on as if no one at home ever listens to a word she says.

“I like pink, too, but I think my favorite color of all time is lime green. I like bright colors.”

She sits on the steps of the art store, painting her little heart out. She’s brushed a beautiful sky scene, full of pinks, reds, and oranges, with the tiniest touches of blue. It is beautiful and her talent is crystal clear. I wouldn’t mind painting with her more often, because I could pick up some pointers from her. Sad, huh?

“Your dad is going to be here in a couple minutes to pick you up.”

I’m sad to see her go, but I have to drive a half hour north to Jefferson City and follow up on that address Davis sent me. I would’ve gone first thing this morning, but I’m glad I took the time to hang out with Scarlett.

“Do you like my Daddy?”

Well, that came out of left field. They always say kids say the damnedest things. I guess that’s true.

I am not sure if like would be the best description for what I feel for her father. Maybe a day ago, but today it is more of a tolerance.

“I guess you could say that.”

She smiles and bounces up and down.

“I think he likes you, too.” She is elated, but I don’t want to give her the wrong message.

“Scarlett, you know a lot of people pass through Woodstock. I am not here to stay, honey.”

“Oh,” is all she says. Her eyes search the distance, looking everywhere but at me. I feel bad, really bad. But I don’t want to give her any false sense of hope. I won’t be staying here; this isn’t my home anymore. I’m living out of a motel room, looking for my very own little girl, whom I can only hope will be a lot like Scarlett.

“Starburst Joni Bloom!”

Oh dear God. I know that voice anywhere. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight on end as my mother makes her way up the front stairs of the art store. I didn’t want to see her. But I also couldn’t hide in my room the whole time I was in town.

“Mother.” I nod as Scarlett starts to clean up her paint mess.

“I didn’t think I would see you here in Woodstock again. What brings you home?”

She isn’t being nice; she’s prying for information. She is nervous, and I am sure she is hiding something. My parents are always hiding something.

“Needed to get out of the city for a little bit. I will see you on Friday.”

I turn to start packing up. I hear the door to the art store open and, when I turn around, my mom is gone. Scarlett ignores the entire exchange. I guess by the time you’re her age, you know when to not include yourself in the middle of adult shit. I’m thankful for that because I am not good at explaining adult shit in kid appropriate terms.

The roar of a motorcycle disrupts the peace of Main Street as Chrome comes barreling down the road, stopping in front of the art shop. I knew I would have to see him again today; I just sent up a dozen silent prayers that Chrome would change his mind and River would pick Scarlett up this afternoon.

“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.

“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.

Chrome cuts the engine of the motorcycle and joins me in front of my door. We stare at each other for a long moment, wondering what the next move is. Do I invite him in? Do I say goodnight? Do I say goodbye until next week when he returns from whatever business?

His words break my thoughts.

“So, now what?”

I don’t know the answer. I wish I could see inside his mind, because everything going on inside me is hinging on him. I want to know if he wants me. But then again, that is just way too much like the old Star. Waiting to see what a man wants, instead of going for exactly what I fucking want for once. This is my turn to take control of my life. Go after what I want. Make my own future.

“That ride, it was nice. Exactly what I needed. I feel different. Free.” I pull the bandana off my head, and hold it out to him. His hand reaches out for the blue piece of fabric, stuffing it in his back pocket before taking another step toward me.

“I don’t know what to do or say now. Whatever this is, it’s new to me. But I can tell you, I want you to come back inside my room with me.” I’m brave, but that is as brave as I can get. I leave the choice up to him. I hold my breath while I stand there waiting. I turn to unlock the door.

“Star, I’m sorry about what you saw at the diner. Whatever this is with you, I want it. I don’t want to let you go. I’m gonna fuck up; it’s what I do. But I promise I will try and do better.”

I push it open, and he is right behind me as we step over the threshold. The door slams shut and I am pushed up against the wall once again. The same wall he fucked me up against the first night I laid eyes on him. It seems like an eternity ago, but it’s only been days. My body gravitates toward him, melting against his touch as his lips cover mine. It isn’t a forceful kiss like last time. It is tender and sweet, but still full of passion. His mouth makes love to mine, showing me how much he cares, despite the fact that we are virtually strangers.

He slowly pulls away and runs a fingertip down the length of my face. I try to speak, but he silences me, pressing a single finger against my lips.

“I don’t want to rush this.”

The two times we have been together has been rushed for sure. Almost fully fucking dressed on top of it. I didn’t crave the personal connection of being completely naked with him, exploring every inch of his body, until now. We have turned a page. Crossed an unspoken line in the sand.

I’m scared shitless. My nerves are getting the best of me as I overthink every single aspect of my life. Every time I try to process what is happening between us, I can’t help but throw all caution to the wind. I just want to do this with him. Whatever this is.. If it isn’t the right thing to do, I will only end up fucked once again. But at least it won’t be the first time.

His fingers run through my knotted hair. The wind-whipped tangles catch on his rough hands as he gently smooths my dark locks. It is a simple act, but one of the most intimate connections I have ever shared with another human being. His strong arms scoop me up while he slowly makes his way to the bed, where he tenderly lays me down. He sits at the edge of the bed and begins to unlace his black boots. The silence continues between us and I hate it. It is just too quiet.

“You don’t have to take those off, ya know?”

He lets out a chuckle and turns to face me while he toes off both boots.

“If I want to do this right, I do.”

The lazy smile on his face is enough to bring me to my knees, but I am already flat on my back. I grasp the black hoodie which still clings tightly to my body. I’m still warming up from the chilly night’s ride.

His words finally strike me.

“Do what right?” I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to do anything right with me. I have always been the wrong girl for all the right reasons. The rebellion. The porn star experience. The drugs.

“Make love to you.” His fingers pull at the zipper of my hoodie. I let him undress me. He takes his time with each movement. I want to freak out at his words. Make love? That is a first to me. I fuck. I don’t make love.

I sit up and run my hands down his sculpted chest, still covered by his cut and long sleeved t-shirt. My fingers slip underneath the thin piece of leather, pushing it off his broad shoulders and letting it fall onto the floor. I pull at the hem of his shirt and slide it over his head. We stare at each other for a long moment before he shifts his weight and stands from the bed. As he turns to walk toward the dresser, I see it.

“I’m sorry, Star.” He turns to face me, ashamed, as he pulls the Glock handgun from its secure spot, tucked in the waistband of his jeans at the center of his back. He places it on the dresser and walks back to the bed. He’s wary, as if he expects me to turn him away. I wonder why he’s carrying a gun, but with his club involvement, I leave the subject alone. I don’t want to know, and I will turn a blind eye just to keep him here with me. He has imperfections, but so do I.

He climbs back up the bed, taking the same position he was in, draping over me. My hand cups his chin and I push my body up to meet his lips. It isn’t a rushed kiss; it is perfect. My lips graze his plump lower lip, pulling it between my teeth. My tongue traces his lip and his mouth begins to part, welcoming my tongue as it slips between his perfectly straight teeth. I lazily explore his mouth before pulling away, parting our lips with a series of chaste kisses. Neither of us want to stop. But we do before we end up in a frantic frenzy just like every other time we have ended up in an intimate situation.

My fingers trace down his six-pack abs, fingering the button of his jeans before popping it open and slowly pulling the zipper down. I wrap my fingers in the belt loops of his pants and tug downward. They slide over his ass and bunch up at his knees. He lifts his legs and kicks his pants down his legs until they hit the floor at the end of the bed. He hovers above me, wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer-briefs. His erection strains against the thin fabric separating our bodies.

His weight lifts and he lies down next to me on the bed. His hand rests on the side of my face, pushing my hair away from my eyes and tucking it behind my ear. He just stares, looking at me for minutes, not saying a single word. His eyes scan over every inch of my body, all the way down to my painted toenails. I start to feel self-conscious. Being naked in front of people doesn’t bother me; it was my job for years. But the way he is taking in every inch is getting to me.

“What?” I ask like a shy teenager. I can feel my face turning red.

“Don’t be shy, Cinderella. You are beautiful. I just want to take in every inch of you. Commit it to memory since I will be gone for a couple days.”

His finger traces along the outline of my panties, moving up my body and reaching around to unclasp my bra. His words move me. I want to cry, but not a hurt cry, or a wounded soul type thing. I want to hold on to him and never let him go. After. Three. Fucking. Days. He has turned my world upside down with a simple sentence, and I don’t fucking care anymore.

This is the closest to perfection I will ever get, and I am going to bask in every single minute of it. The bra straps slide down my arms, exposing my silicone-filled fake tits. They always seemed like an awesome idea, but being in such a real, intimate moment, I hate them. If Chrome has any kind of problem with them, I don’t know, because without skipping a beat, his hands start cherishing them.

Everything about him is so big, but my tits fit perfectly within his palms. He growls as he leans his head forward, taking my nipple into his mouth. I can feel my panties getting wet as he licks and sucks on my hard nipple before switching to the other. I moan under his touch as he continues to explore every inch of my voluminous breasts. His lips start trailing down my body, licking his way down to my waiting cunt.

His lips kiss from hip bone to hip bone, never missing a single inch of skin. His teeth bite the lace of my panties and slowly pull them down my smooth, pale legs. I lie naked in front of him. Completely exposed.

His lips brush against my clean shaved cunt as his fingers gently spread the aching lips. The air hits my clit and a shiver works through my body. His cool mouth feels exquisite on my hot pussy as he licks and teases. My body bucks off the bed as I try to hump his mouth. He sucks on my clit and I am virtually begging for him to fuck me so hard I see fucking stars. His tongue dips within my cunt and I just can’t take anymore. I let out a yelp and he backs away with a final lick.

“You are perfect.” His mouth trails lazily back up my body. I can’t help but ignore his movements and focus on his words. Perfect? No one has ever called me perfect. Ever. I have always been broken. But to him, I am perfect.

I moan under his touch. I can feel him rooting a place deep within my soul. I can feel us becoming one. It is extreme and unexpected. It is everything I never thought I could have with another person. It’s also too soon. Three days. But I can’t deny him. I can’t deny this.

He hovers above me, watching me. I can’t take it anymore. I need him in so many ways, but I just may die if he doesn’t bury his rock hard cock deep inside me. It is all I can think about. I smile and his lips part, returning the grin.

“Do you have protection?” I hate being a stickler for safe sex, but it has been instilled in me. I want nothing more than to feel him with no barriers but he is still a stranger to me. We know details, and emotional turmoil, but that’s it.

“In my pants. Hold on.”

He rises off the bed, standing tall. I take in the glorious body before me. Everything about him is perfect. Sculpted abs, gorgeous strong arms, perfect pierced cock. That’s when I notice it: a scar that sits right on his ribcage. I continue to stare while he makes his way back to the bed, laying over my body. I run my fingers down his torso, stopping as the pads of my fingers come in contact with the bumpy imperfection.

“It looks a lot worse than it was when it happened,” he offers as an explanation. I don’t want to pry. I nod and accept his answer, but he continues. “I got shot, probably about ten years ago.”

“I’m glad you are okay.”

I watch him with a lazy gaze while he rolls the latex down his cock. I stare at the piercing that has brought my cunt so much damn pleasure; I can’t wait to feel it inside me again. He positions himself at my wet pussy. I can feel the thick tip of his dick pressing against the opening as his eyes find their way up my body, stopping at my eyes. We lock stares, and he slowly starts to push inside of me. No hurry. I can feel every inch as he enters my waiting pussy.

“Mmmmm, Chrome.” I moan his name as I feel his dick bottom out inside me. His balls press firmly against my bare ass. He doesn’t move or thrust into me. He sits there for a minute, still staring into my eyes, silent. I want to say something, but no words could ever fit this moment. Our eyes dance back and forth with unspoken emotion, communicating to each other in the most intimate experience of my life.

He lets out a deep sigh and begins to thrust inside me. He pushes in and pulls out until his dick almost falls from my cunt before he presses back in with just a little more force and need than the previous pump. This goes on for what seems like forever; instead, it is only minutes.

I am panting under his sweating body, my hands exploring every rock hard inch from his ass to his smooth head. Up and down, not missing a piece of his glistening skin. He feels so good on top of me, inside me, all over me. His pace quickens, and he leans back on his muscular thighs, slightly switching positions. When he does this, his pierced dick presses against my sweet spot, and I can feel the orgasm building throughout my body. Each slide of the stud sends my body closer to my release, starting all the way at my hard nipples and rolling deep within my womb. I never thought a cock could feel this fucking good. God bless whoever pierced his dick!

His hands move from my tits, one bracing the back of my leg while the other rubs my clit. I can’t hold it back anymore. I try to, but it all just feels too fucking good. I let out a low moan as he continues to pump into me.

“Fuck! Right there, big boy. Shit! I’m gonna…” I trail off and the wave of pleasure crashes over me. My cunt sprays his dick as he slams into me one last time with his own rough release.

“Fuck, Star. Goddamn it. You feel so fucking good.” His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. He slowly lowers his body onto mine, blanketing me in his warmth. He rolls to the side, pulling me with his body, but never pulling his dick from within me. We lie in bed connected like this for a while. His runs his fingers through my hair and holds me as close as our bodies can go. I feel myself starting to nod off when he shifts under me, pulling his softening cock out, and making his way for the bathroom. I really should do the same, but I don’t want to move. I just want to fall asleep.

He returns from the bathroom, minus the condom, and cleans me in the most tender way possible before he picks me up from the bed and pulls the covers back. He tucks me in. I fully expect him to get dressed and leave me for the night. Instead, still completely naked, he walks around to the other side of the bed and pulls the sheets back, joining me under the covers. He slides under the sheets and pulls me into his arms. I snuggle up to him. He is like a giant fucking teddy bear, all for my personal use.

He sprawls out on his back, and I lay my head on his chest. His arm wraps around me, and I just lie there listening to the beating of his heart. It’s something I have never done with another soul, and it comforts me. The beating of his heart lulls me to sleep.

Just as I am about to drift off, he places a kiss on my forehead and whispers into my ear,

“Goodnight, my angel.”

His fingers run through my hair one last time, his arm tightens against my naked body, and we drift off to sleep together. Wrapped in each other’s naked limbs, without a fucking care in the world.

I wake a few times throughout the night, firmly wrapped in Chrome’s arms. He never moves, never lets go, and, for the first time in my life, I feel completely safe. Safety, something I have always craved, is completely mine. The thought of him leaving tomorrow almost breaks me, but the reassurance that he will be back in a few days helps me to keep my shit together. When did I become that girl?

I will myself back to sleep, and don’t wake again until I feel him move under me and I realize someone’s phone is vibrating within the room.

CHAPTER 8

It’s Not Goodbye

“I’m good,” he says into the phone. His words are clipped. He’s to the point in whatever cryptic conversion he’s having with the stranger on the other end of the line. I don’t pry or listen in. It’s not my business, and I always hate when nosy fuckers butt into my shit.

I climb out from under the covers, still naked from the night before, and make my way to the bathroom. I kick on the shower, waiting for it to warm up while he does whatever he needs to do.

Minutes later, the water is finally warm enough to jump in for a quick shower. The hot water runs down my body and feels fucking wonderful. I’ve always thought the hotter the better when it comes to a good shower. Growing up, I rarely got a hot shower, so now I take advantage of it as much as I possibly can. Call me selfish, I don’t care.

I hear the door crack open, and I wait for my goodbye. What I don’t expect on the other side of the curtain is a tall, naked man ready to join me in the mini sauna I have created.

“Mind if I join you, babe?” What am I supposed to say to that? No?

“Of course not. I could use someone to wash my back,” I tease as I flirt with him. He steps inside the tub and his sheer size makes the entire bathroom feel really fucking small. I’m sure he has this effect most places he goes. I want to laugh, but I don’t when I feel his hands start to caress my shoulders. His big hands massage over my warm, red skin. He steps under the spray of the water and jumps.

“Holy fuck, that is hot! What the hell?” I guess I’m going to be forced to turn the heat down just a little bit. “I didn’t even know the old pipes in this building could churn out water that hot!”

His comment spurs my interest.

“Why would you be worried about the pipes of the motel?”

He shrugs.

“My parents bought it right before they died. Left it to me, River, and our other brother, Zane, who seems to be missing in action these days.” Another brother, huh?

“Enough about all that. I just want to enjoy the last little bit of time I have with my girl.”

“Your girl, huh?” I laugh and squirt some shampoo into my hands. I lather it through my short hair but his fingers take over.

He lowers his mouth down to my ear before he answers me.

“Of course you are my girl now, Star. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I turn toward him. The water washes the suds out of my hair as his lips crash down on mine. The kiss is full of possession. He is marking his territory. I am his, and only his. I don’t mind it at all.

My lips match his hunger, and my hands slip and slide all over his soaking wet body. He sucks the flesh of my neck in between his lips, roughly marking me for the world to see in his absence. This turns me on like nothing ever has before. The cave man in him rears its ugly head, and I am a goner. I want possessive Chrome more than anything.

He lifts my body and I wrap my legs around his slippery body. Just as I feel the tip of his dick pressing against my cunt, I stop him.

“Fuck. You need a condom. Hurry up.”

I slide down his body as he places me on my feet in the tub. He’s back in a flash, condom already sheathed around his big dick and ready to pound into my cunt.

He steps into the tub and we’re back in the same position in seconds. His body presses me up against the wall, as his hand guides his dick right inside me. With one hard thrust he is deep within my aching pussy. I missed the feeling of having him inside me. I could never get tired of his piercing rubbing all the right places inside me. My mouth finds his and my lips part letting his tongue explore the inside of my mouth. He moans and I can’t help but moan right back as he pumps in and out of me. It feels so damn good.

His hand slides up my stomach, across my tits, and stops once it is firmly wrapped around my throat. A little pain with my pleasure, and I am instantly in fucking heaven. Chrome continues fucking me like a madman as his grip around my throat tightens. The lightheaded feeling slowly creeps up on me. It’s been so long since someone pushed this hot button of mine, and I can’t do anything but enjoy the moment as my body climbs to orgasm.

“Oh fuck, you are so good. You like that, Star? You like how I fuck you? Like you are mine to keep?”

I can’t hold back anymore. I try, but once those words leave Chrome’s mouth, I’m done for. His grip tightens around my neck ever so slightly more. I gasp for air as the most intense orgasm I’ve had in years floods through my body. My nails dig into his muscular back, drawing blood while I cry out his name over and over again.

“Fuck, Chrome! Fuck! I love your hands around my neck. Oh, baby,” I cheer him on, relishing the pleasure. No one has ever choked me outside of filming and it feels so fucking amazing. I know I’m a freak, but I am glad Chrome is the one bringing the freak out of me.

“That’s my girl,” he says as his pace quickens. My back slams against the wall again, and he presses deep inside me until his dick has no place else to go. His body quakes, and I feel him finding his own release. It’s moments like this that I hate condoms. I would do just about anything to feel him flooding my cunt. Marking his territory before he hits the road. Knowing I am completely his for the taking. I can only hope that he’s mine.

His grip on me loosens and he gently brings me to my feet in the tub. We stare at each other for a few minutes before I return to my washing routine. He disposes of the condom and begins his own washing. We finish the shower in silence, despite my need to ask questions. Like where is he going? What is he going to be doing while he’s on the road? I’m pretty sure I don’t want the answers. But I am curious.

“I don’t want you to leave. I was just getting used to having you around,” I admit as we eat breakfast at Maggie’s. I feel like, for once in my life, I can actually be open and honest with a man. I feel safe with him.

“I don’t wanna go, either. I got my trip cut down to Wednesday, but that is still too fucking long.” He tosses a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“What are you going to be doing? What is it you do exactly?” Curiosity killed the cat. One of these days, my need to learn new shit really is going to catch up with me in a fucking bad way. His face becomes dark and guarded. The carefree man who spent the morning with me is slowly fading, and I could kick myself in the ass for pushing him away.

He places his fork down on the plate, picks up his cup of coffee, and takes a long sip.

“Star, there are some things I just don’t want you to know. It isn’t because I don’t care about you. Because I really do. More than I probably should. But the life I live is dangerous. I don’t want you to get involved in the wrong way. I don’t want you to look at me differently.”

I want to laugh. Dangerous? Look at him differently? He’s talking to the fucking deep throat queen of the world.

“I can respect that you don’t want me to know. But just know I’m not going to look at you much differently. I have been into some bad shit over the years myself. You can’t really say or do much to shock me.”

I take a bite of my feta cheese omelet and wash it down with a gulp of apple juice. Which is pretty damn refreshing. I love this shit.

“What’s your real name?” His question confuses me, and I give in to his unexpected round of twenty questions.

“Starburst Bloom. You?”

He looks dumbfounded. Is he really surprised my name is actually Star? Did he think it was my nickname, or porn name? I mean, seriously, most porn stars need a porn star name; I just got lucky enough to be born and raised with one. No need for the alter ego.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” He’s self-conscious and it is fucking cute. He doesn’t want to tell me because he’s embarrassed that his parents saddled him with a shitty name, just like mine did.

“My fucking name is Starburst, like a fucking candy or a cosmic occurrence. Do you really think I am going to laugh at you?” I laugh at myself. At the situation. It feels good to genuinely feel this good.

“Atticus Holden Grant.” He doesn’t make eye contact with me. He pushes some food around on his plate, then takes a bite, sneaking a peek through his dark eyelashes. I want to laugh at him because he’s acting like a kid, not because of his name.

“That’s hot.” As much as it sounds like a snob name, it actually fits his level of sexy. “And stop acting like a kid.” I laugh across the table and pick up the last bit of toast on my plate, popping it into my mouth.

“What can I do to get you to stay in Woodstock?” he asks.

“I don’t think there is anything you can really do. Just let me figure things out. I may stay, but if I do, I am going to do it on my own terms.” I don’t want to stay here because of a guy. I want to stay in Woodstock because I can make the life I need here. I want to stay because there is a reason to keep me hanging around. It is beautiful and quiet. It is the life I need while I continue my journey into recovery. Put the bad memories behind me, and work on making good ones.

“We should leave. I want to spend some time with Scarlett before I head out. She always gets emotional when I hit the road for a couple days.” It hurts him to leave her behind. I can see it all over his face. I don’t blame him, because I know the hurt of leaving a child behind. Except my pain is deeper than a couple days.

“If River needs any help while you’re gone, tell him he knows where to find me.” I would love to spend more time painting with Scarlett when she isn’t in school. She really is a bright little girl. So childlike and full of life. It makes me crave the same lack of responsibilities.

“Why don’t you come over to the motel?” I ask Journey. We’ve been trying to make plans together since I rolled into town days ago, but shit just keeps getting in the way. Chrome left late last night. He stopped in for a quick breakfast before he hit the road. It was absolutely adorable. I wanted him to fuck me senseless against the wall, or in the shower again, but he just didn’t have time.

“What do you wanna do?” Journey asks. I’m not sure if she is going to be up for my adventure of the day, but I am sure going to give it a try. I don’t really want to do it on my own anyway.

“I was going to go look at a couple places for sale.” Yes, houses for sale. In Woodstock. Even if I don’t decide to stay, it will be nice to own a little piece of quiet property in the Catskills. The houses here have a certain rustic beauty about them. I know it sounds incredibly fucking stupid, and borderline cliché, but seriously, I want one. I want a place I can call my own.

“You are going to buy a house here?”

“I didn’t say that. I just want to go look. Come on, get your ass over here so we can head out. There is no way in hell I am coming over to that fucking house to pick you up.” Yes, a damn house. My parents finally got their shit together and live in a home without wheels! Miracle of miracles! I don’t know what sparked the decision, but my sister certainly appreciates it. I think that is why she continues to stay with them. There is finally a small level of stability.

“I’ll see you in a few.” She disconnects the call, and I continue looking at the one house for sale that I truly want. It was my dream house as a little girl. I could picture a perfect Normal Rockwell Christmas scene playing out through the spacious glass windows that overlook the stream running through the backyard. I could see the deer grazing along the long driveway. It was a house that remained empty most of the time I was growing up. People would rent it as a vacation home, stay for a week or a month, and move on.

I never knew who owned it, or why they didn’t choose to live in it themselves, but I always wanted it to be mine. I don’t know if I want to buy it or not, if it will still have the same appeal as it did when I was a kid. But I guess we will find out when we pull up the long gravel driveway.

“This place is a fucking dive, Star.”

Journey looks at me with disgust as we round the corner of the heavily wooded gravel driveway. Years upon years of neglect clearly show around the property. The lush vegetation has grown over most of the driveway. Only a small one lane path remains, allowing just enough room to get up to the house.

The once beautiful wooden cabin is worn and old. Run down and dilapidated. Boards on the porch are missing and one of the windows on the side of the house leading into the grand room is broken. It hasn’t weathered well in the decade since I left Woodstock. In fact, it weathered just as well as I did.

Broken and damaged. Unwanted and neglected. We have a lot in common.

“It is beautiful, Journey. Full of a story to tell.”

I get out of the car and walk up to the house. “Each piece of damage tells a story. The broken window, the missing boards, that crack in the pavement. It is all the story of this house.”

She looks at me like I’m nuts. It is just a building. But to me, I can see myself in so many ways. I can see my own damage in each blemish.

It needs work, a lot of fucking work. But so do I. Could I possibly heal while rebuilding the house I always dreamed of as a child? Can I have my happily ever after in the woods? I don’t know. But its damaged beauty is just too much for me to pass by. It’s a rash decision, but I want this house. Damn the work to hell. If I have to hire a small army to fix it up, I will. This is my opportunity at something I have always wanted, lusted after. And damn it, I will fucking have it!

“Whatever, Star.”

She shrugs and continues looking around the property with me. It sprawls out over acres of land as far as the eye can see. The small stream still flows behind the house; pine trees line the back yard in rows. The fall leaves are changing color and falling all over the ground; it is so beautiful.

“If you buy this place, does that mean you’re staying?” The excitement in her voice catches my attention, while I look at the small shed in the far corner of the yard. I turn around, and her face is bright with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess that, if I buy this place, I will stay a bit. At least long enough to make it beautiful again.”

Like that, the decision is made. I don’t need long hours of planning or calls to Katy debating on whether or not to buy. I won’t even call Seven for her input, because I know she’ll be completely against it. Her feelings for Woodstock will never change, whether I’m here or not.

I type out a short email on my phone to Katy, detailing my instructions for her to purchase the property. No questions, cash sale, done deal. Whatever red tape needs to be handled, she will take care of it. That’s what I pay her for. No one is going to talk me out of this. This is my dream and I am going to make it fucking happen.

As Journey and I pull down the driveway, heading to Maggie’s for a sisterly lunch, my phone rings. Seven is on the other end and I cue it up to the Bluetooth system in the car and answer.

“Yo, yo!” I’m in a good mood. A really damn good mood.

“Someone sounds fucking chipper.” Seven is miserable. She has been for days. Ever since she started battling that nasty food poisoning over the weekend. I feel bad for her, because I have totally been there.

“I am. What crawled up your ass and died?” I want to laugh, but I know it would only make her feel way worse than she already does. No need to add insult to injury, that’s for sure.

“A fucking fetus.”

“What did you just say? I want to make sure I heard you correctly.”

I stop the car and throw it in park. I turn the volume up and listen carefully. Seven is silent on the other end of the phone. Like she doesn’t want to repeat what she just said.

“I’m pregnant.”

And the world slips out from under me.

“Please tell me it is Levi’s.”

Is that all I can fucking come up with? This isn’t an episode of Maury; I really should be a supportive friend, but I am literally in shock.

“Of course it is fucking Levi’s, Star! God!” Her voice is getting louder and louder through the phone line. I want to laugh, but I don’t.

“So this means you aren’t coming up here this weekend, huh?”

I’m sad because I really wanted to see her. I am disappointed because I didn’t want to face our families without her. She is the strong one in the equation. I don’t want to face this without her. These bullshit family meetings are few and far between, but they always mimic a cage match. I don’t want to go, but I will, because I’m a dumb fuck who just loves to take shit from the people who created me.

“Nope. I just can’t be in the car that long right now. I am throwing up shit I don’t even remember eating. This is a fucking nightmare come true.” She never wanted kids, and I can only wonder how long it will be before she’s front and center at the abortion clinic. I want to ask, but I’m sure it is a touchy subject. She has to work this one out on her own. If she wants to talk about it, she will.

“I hope you start to feel better soon, Seven. You need me to come back to the city?” I feel useless just sitting here waiting for Davis to call with more information on Willow. I’m wasting time.

“You stay there and do whatever you’re doing. It is good for you; it’s what you need right now.” She’s right. If I went back to the city now, I’m sure I would get myself in trouble. There is just too much temptation to be able to stay clean and sober. Out here, I can crave a bump all I want. Because I can’t find any. It is the best way for me to stay clean until the cravings start to finally subside.

“Well, if you need anything, you better call me.”

I can hear her gagging on the other end of the line. She mumbles something about going and the line goes dead. I feel for her, because I was there once. My hand rubs my empty stomach, and I frown. My mood is almost ruined when I realize how long it has been since Davis made contact. That probably means nothing but more bad news. They always say no news is good news, but in a situation like this, I just don’t buy it.

“Well, ain’t that some shit,” Journey pipes up from the passenger seat. I completely forgot she was there for the entire conversation. I pray she doesn’t run and tell Seven’s damn parents, since they are all one big happy fucking family.

“Don’t you repeat a word you just heard. That was private, Journey. If she knew you were with me, she wouldn’t have said anything.” I try to be as stern as I can, but it comes out ridiculous.

“I won’t. Don’t worry. God. I totally don’t wanna go to Maggie’s for lunch, either. Wanna go for a drive to this little lunch place I found? Your treat, of course!”

I can’t help but laugh. Of course, my treat. I don’t think this girl has worked a day in her life. I could use something besides Maggie’s, too, because if we are being honest, diner food really isn’t cutting it much anymore.

“I wanna stop at the motel and grab a sweatshirt on the way. I thought I had one in the backseat.” I’m fucking freezing. I always forget how cold it is this time of year.

I slow the car to make the turn into the normally quiet parking lot when I see someone standing at the door to my room. The person is familiar, and there aren’t any cars in the parking lot. I continue driving, completely missing the turn. Journey looks at me funny, but doesn’t say anything. I try to keep my eyes on the road, and watch the door of the room but safety wins out.

“Isn’t that Blue?” Journey asks, as the man turns to the side, looking around. I can tell from his profile it is him, clearly looking for me. I haven’t seen him since the night he beat the shit out of me. My body starts to break out into a cold sweat, and I know there is no fucking way I can go back to the tiny room I have been living in for the past week. He knows where to find me now, and I have to go back into hiding.

Will I ever fucking be able to feel safe again with him around? Maybe coming back to Woodstock wasn’t the best idea. Or maybe he is just here because of this godforsaken family meeting. I will avoid him like the fucking plague until all is clear Friday, and just pray he leaves town.

“What happened with the two of you?”

I know she’s young, and she wants to know how shit really played out. She was maybe eight when I got pregnant and the drama erupted inside my family, but I don’t want to expose her to the nastiness. I shrug my shoulders and try to ignore her. She keeps staring at me, waiting for some kind of reply.

“I was young and stupid. That is what happened.” Young, stupid, hurt, neglected, abandoned, and looking for love in all the wrong places. I often wonder if he would have just let me be as a teenager if I never willingly hooked up with him those couple times. Yeah, he violated me as a child, but it stopped for ages. Maybe I just fell off his radar until I had actual tits. I try not to put very much thought into it.

“Do you ever think about her?” I’m caught off guard again. Maybe hanging out with Journey today wasn’t the best idea.

“All the time. I want to find her,” I admit it without realizing the kind of repercussions this could cause if she tells my parents. I pray she doesn’t, but I know it is a very real possibility.

We pull into the parking lot of the small vegan luncheonette, and when I turn to face her, she is as pale as a ghost.

“I don’t feel so hot. Do you think you could bring me back to my car? I don’t wanna eat lunch now.” This chick better not chuck in my new damn car, that’s all I know. I head for the motel parking lot. I pray Blue is gone once I get back to drop her off. I’m sure he isn’t just going to hang out there all day, as much as he wants to get to me.

Thankfully, when we pull in, he’s nowhere in sight. I park the car and wish my baby sister well. I’d like to know what sparked her sudden ailment; I feel bad that we couldn’t spend more quality time together. I had really looked forward to catching up over lunch.

“I will see you on Friday, Star.”

I have to give her space, because I know she is very much like me. She’ll bolt and no one will see her for days. I don’t want to be the cause of that, even though I apparently am somehow. I just don’t understand how talking about Willow could bring this all to the surface. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.

I push open the office door, where River is standing behind the counter looking bored as hell. Nothing new. When he notices me, he puffs his chest up trying to look like his bad ass brother, but failing pretty miserably. Clearly he got the sensitive genes in the family.

“Some guy was here looking for you.”

“I need your help. I can’t stay here tonight. Not until your brother is back in town.”

I go through the motions and fill him in on bits and pieces of my history with Blue. Nothing over the top, besides the beating he gave me not too long ago. I knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for me again. This time I won’t let him have what he wants. No means no this time; I don’t care who he is. Or how bad of a fucking beating I will end up with.

“Stay at Chrome’s until he comes back. There is more than enough room. Leave whatever you don’t need behind in the room, or check out. It’s up to you, but if he comes sniffing back around here, I’ll tell him you checked out and left town.”

River has my back, and I can’t thank my lucky stars enough. He is offering his brother’s house to me, and I almost feel bad taking him up on the offer. That is before I think about what Chrome would do if he wasn’t a state away.

CHAPTER 9

My House

Tuesday morning, I wake to my phone ringing in a strange place. I look around the room, taking in the light blue walls, and the comfort of the king size bed. I remember where I am. Chrome’s bed. Apparently the guest room wasn’t good enough to sleep in for two nights before his highness got back from whatever top secret operation he was running. River argued on the phone with him about it, but in the end Chrome won out. It’s beginning to seem like a pattern. I want to laugh, but I know there is nothing fucking funny about what he is doing.

Looking at the caller ID on my phone, I see Katy’s name pop up. We emailed a couple times yesterday about the house. She tried to talk me out of it, but she soon realized I’m set on buying the house. After contacting the small real estate agent located a couple towns away with a cash offer, she told me they immediately accepted. I never thought buying a house could be so easy, but apparently when you don’t have to deal with mortgage companies, it is a walk in the park.

“What’s up, Katy?”

She gives me all the details about the last bit of paperwork needed to complete the purchase. Once the details are all set, the dreaded conversation of my career rears its ugly head. I knew I would have to face it at some point in time. I just didn’t think it would be this soon. I’d hoped for a good month of peace from porn.

“So, you’re done?” she asks, her mood sour. I can tell without even seeing her face. She probably has her glasses off, massaging her temples, trying her best not to lunge through the phone and rip my head off. She’s a friend, but she is a business woman. I make her a lot of money.

“I am done, really done this time. I just can’t go back to that life, Katy. It’s toxic for me.”

She knows better than I do. All the times I tried rehab and walked away thinking I was magically cured of my addiction, like that was possible. Only to end up on set of a flick called Long Dong Silver snorting lines of blow off an extra’s tits. It just wasn’t an environment I could control myself in.

“I understand, Star. I really do, and I wish you the best of luck in whatever you take on. But you know I can’t work with you anymore if this is the case, right?” I knew, but I was hoping she would stay with me and manage all my shit. It was a nice idea, just not a very business savvy one.

“Yeah, I knew it would come to that. I don’t want to lose you, but I know you are a professional, Katy.” I hate goodbyes. I really do. I would never ask her to take such a pay cut to stay with me as nothing more than a personal assistant.

“You have me ‘til the first of the year.”

I’m thankful for the next few months, so I can get my own shit together and start handling my own affairs. Maybe I can hire Journey or Paisley to be my personal assistant. I am sure Paisley would love it. If I could ever coax her back from her newest love nest in Florida. I will work on her come Friday, after I see whatever bomb my parents drop on us.

A soft knock sounds on the door, and River peeks into the room.

“Got a minute?” I nod in his direction while I finish up my call with Katy. She mentions overnighting a couple documents, and then we should be all set with the house by Monday at the latest. A lot quicker than I anticipated, but I know it needs so much work that it will be longer before it’s actually safe to live in.

“What’s up, River?”

He looks tired, and I am pretty sure he should be at work already.

“I’m late to take over my shift at the motel, and Scarlett is sick at school. The school nurse just called, and I have no one else to go pick her up. Can you grab her for me, and just bring her back here?”

Me? Handle a sick kid? My mind spins in a million different directions. I’m nervous, but I am not going to leave them all high and dry when they have gone above and beyond for me.

This is what family does for each other, right? We may not be blood, or marriage, but they are slowly becoming the only family I have besides my distant sisters. If they will accept me, I will do my best to accept them.

“Yeah, just tell me where to go and what I have to do.”

He passes me a note with directions scribbled on the paper. Her school isn’t far from the house, easy to find. I should know where schools are in this little podunk town, but my shit-tastic parents thought homeschooling was a fantastic idea. They taught us all a bunch of nothing.

“I’ll call the school ahead of time and let them know you’re picking her up. You will have to show them your ID in the office.” Jesus, do they want a fucking DNA sample, too? I guess you can never be too careful these days, but seriously? It seems like overkill.

“You’re a lifesaver, Star!” He wraps his arms around me, plants a kiss on my cheek, and runs out of the house. The moderately sized house they all share. It is four bedrooms, but they are all pretty small. River has the smallest, then Scarlett. Of course the man of the house needs the giant master bedroom. It fits their little family perfectly.

When I walk into the office at the school, poor Scarlett is sitting in a chair with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her face looks almost white. Aren’t kids supposed to look green when they’re sick? Her eyes are soft as they meet mine, and she manages a pathetic smile.

“I’m here for Scarlett Grant. Star Bloom.” I hand my license to the woman behind the desk and sign some early dismissal form. I carry Scarlett’s backpack to the car once we’re free to go; I would carry her if I thought I was strong enough.

“Want me to stop at Maggie’s and get you some soup?” Soup makes everything better, right?

“Yes, please.” She’s quiet. Not her normally talkative self. I feel bad, but if I was in her position, I probably wouldn’t want to be chatting it up, either.

“What’s wrong, Scarlett?”

“I barfed all over my teacher. Must be a stomach thing.”

I slowly lean toward the driver’s side window, trying to get as far away from her vomit germs as I can get. I can almost feel them hopping across the car and resting all over my body. It is probably hysterical to watch from the outside, though. I know way too many people who would be taking pleasure in this scene right now.

The phone rings and rings. I don’t answer it, because this isn’t my fucking house. I don’t live here, and it isn’t my business. I don’t want it to wake up Scarlett, though, since she is finally fast asleep, so I take it off the hook. Before I know it, my cell phone rings.

I pick it up on the second ring, cautious that it may be someone I really don’t want to talk to. I always assume unknown numbers are going to be reporters, or Blue. He’s always pretty good at finding out where I was; phone calls just tip me off that he’s on my trail. This time around, I already know he’s on the prowl.

“Hello?” I almost whisper. My tone is no match for the pissed off voice on the other end of the line.

“You could have answered the damn phone. I’ve been fucking worried sick.” Chrome isn’t yelling, but he certainly isn’t happy, either. I feel bad. I should have called him, but the simple realization that I don’t know his damn phone number stopped me. Something so simple we forgot in our short time together.

“Calm down. She’s okay. I got her some soup, and she seems to be sleeping it off. I’ve checked on her a couple times. She just wants to lie on the couch and watch Good Luck Charlie.”

“Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for.”

He growls at me through the phone line. I want to laugh at his frustration, but I don’t. He would only take it out on me. I can tell that already. The sound of him does something else to me, though. The deep rumble. The sexy suave melody has me wanting him between my legs. I don’t want to act like a lovesick girlfriend, but I can’t help it.

“I miss you,” I admit to him in a sultry voice. Sex oozes off my words, and I pray I make his nether-regions feel the same way mine do. Desperate for relief.

“You don’t even know, baby girl.”

A chill runs through my body and lands square in my stomach. His words spark things inside me I have never felt. If I don’t hang up now, shit is going to get out of hand. I will probably say something I’ll regret.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chrome.”

I see Scarlett moving. She smiles.

“He likes you.”

I collapse against the black leather recliner and kick my feet up. I don’t want to acknowledge her words, but it would be rude if I didn’t.

“I like him, too.” I don’t want to have this heart-to-heart with a ten-year-old, but I don’t think there’s any avoiding it. She climbs back under the giant motorcycle blanket on the couch and pulls it up to her chin.

“Are you still going to leave when you’re done here?” I don’t know how to answer her question. Because I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow, let alone months from now. I can’t make promises and I won’t lead her on.

“I don’t know, Scarlett. What I can tell you, that no one else knows, is I bought a house here. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to lie to you, either, or break promises.” She nods, and tries to hide the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

“Get some rest.” I stand up and venture to Chrome’s bedroom with my laptop to try and find a contractor to fix up my house.

River sits across the table from me in Maggie’s. Scarlett is still dead to the world on the living room couch back at Chrome’s house. The little old lady who lives next door was kind enough to hobble over and sit with her so we could both grab something to eat.

The sun’s gone down and the tiny town of Woodstock is coming to a halt for the night. As soon as the street lights come on, most places close.

I pick at the cheeseburger and fries, and he downs the spaghetti and meatballs like he hasn’t eaten a damn thing all day. Boys his age have never ending hunger; it never ceases to amaze me.

The bell on the front door alerts the staff to a newcomer. Nobody bothers to look but me. I am instantly fucking glad I did, because there’s Blue, twenty feet away from me, walking toward the counter. He hasn’t noticed me yet. But there is no way I am making it out of here without him seeing me.

“You okay?” River asks. I’m sure I look scared shitless. I am not okay but I try to lie about it. I don’t want to clue him in on everything, even though Blue is already on his radar from the motel.

“Someone I don’t care to see walked in. That’s all.”

River turns to look and he recognizes him.

“That is the dick-face from the motel.” I just nod and finish up whatever I’m going to actually eat so we can get out of here. I look up and notice Blue is gone from the counter. While River and I were discussing him, he started making his way to our table. Soon, he is standing right next to me.

“Star, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.” If my eyes could shoot actual daggers, he would be dead in a bloody mess on the floor of Maggie’s. I start thinking about ways to kill him. Running him over with my car, stabbing him in the eye with a fork, the list goes on and on.

“That’s nice. I don’t have anything to say to you, though, so you can be on your way.” I wave my hand in the opposite direction, shooing him off, and his face starts to turn red. He’s pissed. For the first time in my life, I am not scared. I am not intimidated. I couldn’t give two shits if he is mad.

“We have things to discuss.” He grits his dirty teeth together and starts to eye River.

“We have nothing to discuss, Blue. In fact, I was just on my way out.”

I stand from the table and shoot my gaze to River, who immediately joins me. Normally by now, my body would be freaking out, my heart beating far too rapidly, and craving something, anything to numb the feeling. But he has no impact on me.

“Don’t you dare fucking walk away from me, Princess.”

I want to stop, to turn around and tell him off. More than anything. But he wants my attention. He wants me to turn around and acknowledge that he has some kind of power over me.

I walk out of the diner with River by my side, and we drive back to Chrome’s house in silence. I try to sort through all my fucked up thoughts, but I don’t know what to make of them. No matter what I do, or say, I am never going to be rid of Blue unless I finally go to the police about what he has done. I should have listened to Seven and immediately filed charges against him. I was stupid, yet again. Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. It is too late now.

Light spills through the curtains of Chrome’s bedroom window. I slowly blink my eyes open to examine the clock. It is just before eight in the morning, on Wednesday. Chrome will be back today. I don’t know what time he will be rolling into town, but I can tell you I feel much safer with him in Woodstock now that Blue is lurking around.

I let out a yawn and start to stretch when I notice something move in the corner of the bedroom. The old wooden rocking chair in the corner moves; someone is sitting in it. My eyes can’t focus and I scream bloody murder. I probably could have woken the dead with my shriek. It isn’t until the person moves that I realize it isn’t an intruder. It’s Chrome.

“Jesus, fuck, woman!”

His chest heaves, and I know I scared him just as much as he just scared the piss out of me. I throw a pillow across the room, beaning him upside the head with it.

“What the fuck, Chrome? Seriously, you scared the shit out of me!” My heart is still racing, and my hands are shaking from the sheer amount of adrenaline running through my body.

“I got back real early this morning. Since Scarlett is still out on the couch, I snuck in here. You looked too peaceful to wake, so I just sat down here. Didn’t think I would fall asleep.” He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. He is exhausted; I can see the circles around his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Come climb into bed. You clearly need some rest.” I pat the bed next to me, and he stands and stretches. I gawk at him as he stretches. His tight, white undershirt rises up, exposing his unbuttoned jeans laying low on his hips. His lightly tanned v cut makes me drool. I realize I am virtually fucking him with my eyes, so I lie back down, pulling the covers up and snuggling into the comfort of the bed.

“You know, you are on my side of the bed,” he teases me as he strips down to his boxer-briefs. I try not to ogle anymore, but it is so damn hard.

“I could move, but I didn’t think you would mind. I mean coming home to me in your bed and all.” I wink at him. I’m sure neither of us expected him to come home and find all this. I pictured him rolling back into my motel room again. Spending our time together fucking like animals up against the wall inside the door.

“You’re right, but right now, I don’t want you anywhere else.” I want to smile at his honesty. My heart skips a beat, or twelve.

“I gotta tell you something.”

He grimaces, and I am almost positive he is waiting for me to dish some bad news. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls the covers back. He looks at me, nods, and waits for me to start talking. I can’t help it. A stupid smile spreads across my face.

“I bought a house.”

His eyes darken as his lips press together in a straight line. He seems mad. Why would he be mad? “Before you get your boxers in a fucking twist, it is here, in Woodstock.” Relief washes over his face, and the corner of his lip turns up just slightly. He doesn’t want to give away that he is actually happy.

“I bought the old rental off of Jupiter Lane.”

His eyebrow raises in question.

“That old dive?”

I want to hit him for talking about my house like that, but to the everyday person, it is a fucking dive. Not everyone can see the beauty behind it.

“Yup, it was my favorite house in Woodstock when I was a girl. I took a drive up there to check it out. I should have the keys on Monday. Know any good contractors?” I talk as quickly as Scarlett does when she is excited about something.

“Honey, I own a contracting company. Whatever you want, we will do.” He kisses the top of my head and pulls me into his arms. Well, isn’t that just fucking convenient? I melt into his body, while I bask in his strong embrace.

I shouldn’t feel this way; I shouldn’t want to feel this way, but I do. He has taken a piece of my heart, as much as I should shield it from him.

His face nuzzles into my neck, and he places a kiss on my cheek. I want so bad to pull at the remaining clothes we have on, but the sick child only a couple yards away in the living room stops me. However, she doesn’t stop him one bit. He pulls me over his body, so that I’m straddling his lap in the bed, and I can feel him pulling at the hem of my giant loose t-shirt. In the blink of an eye, it is over my head, and I am in nothing but a pair of simple cotton panties.

“Your daughter,” I whisper into his ear, as I lick down his neck with my tongue. I want to stop, but I am losing my willpower. His dick is rock hard against my moist cunt, and he continues to nudge my wetness through the last pieces of clothing we have on.

“She won’t come in here,” he replies as he sucks on my earlobe. That spot, that fucking spot, drives me wild.

His mouth covers mine and his tongue doesn’t stop licking my bottom lip until I finally open and let him in. I can feel his hands running all over my body, squeezing my full breasts before settling on my ass. His hips buck off the bed, pushing his hardness against me again, harder this time. His force is enough to get me off on the spot. I am hanging on by a single thread, while we’re dry humping like we are fucking kids again.

His big hands leave my ass, finding their way in between our entwined bodies. His ass lifts again, and he’s naked. His legs push his missing boxer-briefs to the end of the bed, and his hands move to grip my waist. I pull my mouth from his, licking and sucking up his neck until I can whisper in his ear once again.

“You need a condom, baby.”

He lets out a long sigh. I know he’s annoyed. I feel like the safe sex police. He doesn’t make a move; instead, I feel him tugging my panties to the side, running his rough fingertip along my clit. I try to buck my hips in response to the tender touch, but his other hand is still firmly gripping my hip.

“Just for a minute, baby,” he coos into my ear. I can’t help but melt. I should say no, but I don’t. It has been so long since I have had the feeling of good raw sex. Not meaningless on set bullshit, but real fucking. So, against my better judgment, I don’t stop him.

“Just a minute,” I repeat as he pushes my panties further to the side, and he slides his big cock right inside my wet pussy. Inch-by-inch, it slides in with ease, and I throw my head back with ecstasy. I can feel every delicious piece of his impressive dick, piercing and all. The metal balls run along the inner walls of my cunt, teasing and touching places I never even fucking knew existed. As he pulls out, it rubs along my clit and he pushes right back in. As he bottoms out within my tight pussy, I can feel the piercing caressing my g spot. God, there is no way I am going to be able to stop him from going raw again. It just feels too fucking mind-blowing. God damn it! Fuck condoms.

I want to scream, but I can’t. I let out a strangled moan, and his hand flies up to my mouth, covering it forcefully as he slams his dick inside of me. I meet each thrust and then some. He slows his pace, lying on the bed and letting me be the one to work up and down his length. And boy, do I.

I slowly slide up and down at first, appreciating every inch. His hands move above his head, watching every move I make. He only breaks eye contact on occasion to look down to where our slick bodies are joined. His lazy gaze rakes up my body, watching my tits bounce as my pace quickens.

With every movement, I can feel the build of my own orgasm. I grind my hips and my swollen clit begs for release. Chrome finally moves his hands from his lounging position, running them over my tits as I continue to ride his cock. His fingers roughly pinch my nipples and I just can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck!” I scream, realizing his hands are leaving my tits and heading for my mouth. His palm covers my lips tightly just as I start to come. I scream against his hand, as he continues pumping his thick erection into me. My body falls onto his chest, and I quietly try to catch my breath, still slowly riding him. I’m fucking exhausted and, as much as I want to keep going, my body has given up on me.

Chrome flips me over onto my back, his dick still deep within me. Lifting my leg and placing it on his shoulder, he begins to pound into me. He’s desperately searching for his own release. The pierced tip of his dick caresses my g spot over and over again, and I begin to feel another orgasm creeping up on me. His pumps become more forceful and his hand grabs at my neck. That is all I need to start coming all over again. I let out a low moan, as quiet as I can. He franticly pulls out just as his come shoots all over my stomach and cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, stroking his dick through his own orgasm. It is officially the hottest thing I have ever fucking seen. Burst after burst of hot come drenches my body as his face contorts with pleasure.

He looks down and catches my gaze. I can’t help but watch him. You would think after all these years of porn, something this erotic would do nothing for me. But God, he is fucking beautiful in every way there is. His dick is still firmly in his palm when he blows out a long breath, and he finally speaks.

“God, I think I am in love with you.” The words slip so casually from his mouth, but all I can do is stare at him like a deer in headlights. His demeanor changes when he notices the shock on my face. I can feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to flip out, but I am pretty fucking sure I am about to. Damn it all to hell! Why did he have to go there?

“Shhh, relax, Star.” His fingers trail down the side of my face and I will myself to calm the fuck down somehow. I take a deep breath, trying to think of what comes next.

“No one has ever said that to me.” I am almost dazed thinking about it. It’s the truth. Not even Seven. All those years and those three words were never exchanged.

“I don’t want to fuck up whatever this is. I’m sorry; I let my emotions get the best of me. I am not good at keeping them under wraps.” He’s flustered. Upset. At himself, I think.

“It’s okay. Really,” I reassure him. Maybe getting out of the house and seeing exactly what needs to be done at my very own home would be the best plan for my day. “You should get some rest, Chrome.”

“What are your plans for the day?” he asks.

I’m still trapped under his body. I can’t make my break for it until he moves. His come is slowly starting to dry all over me, while we sit here and have this heart-to-heart. As if he can sense my anxiety over being trapped under his body, he shifts his weight while looking for something to clean up with. He tosses his discarded t-shirt to me, and I start to wipe up the mess. Definitely going to need a shower.

“I’m going to go over to my house and see what needs to be done. Make a list, so I can get the construction going once I have the keys.” The fact that I am waiting for keys is hysterical. The house is wide open. I am sure people have come and gone on their own for some time. Including the local wildlife. The door was cracked open and one of the large picture windows had no glass, so I figure it won’t be hard to get in.

“There is no way you are going over there on your own. I know that piece of shit has been following you. No fucking way, Star. It just isn’t safe.” His concern warms me. It’s completely founded, but I hate feeling like a victim. I vowed I wouldn’t live like that anymore. I don’t want Blue to rule my life anymore. No way.

“I’m fine. I’m not scared of him.” I say it with bravado. I’m trying to convince myself, even though the thought of being alone with him sends me into a panic.

Scarlett’s voice cries from the living room and catches Chrome’s attention.

“Daddy, please stay here with me, can I come sleep in your bed?” He can’t stay no to her. I can see him lose the battle, and I know I will be able to make my way out for the day without him acting like a bodyguard. He stands, takes a couple paces across the room, and pulls back the bottom of an old movie poster on the wall. There is a small safe built into the wall and he turns the knob a few times before it pops open. I try not to be nosy. I don’t want to know what is inside the safe. It isn’t my business.

“If you are going to be so fucking stubborn, I want you to take this with you.” When he turns around, I see it. He is holding a small, black handgun. I want to recoil away from him, but the simple idea of keeping that with me, even just in my purse, makes me feel so much safer with Blue creeping around. The more I think about it, the more I know I would never use it. Not in a million years. But it fucking empowers me in a way I have never been empowered before. It reaffirms the fact that I will never be a victim again.

“Chrome, I don’t even know how to use that,” which is the honest truth. I have never even held a gun in my life. He begins a little Gun 101 class right there in his bedroom, and I feel a little bit more comfortable. I know I don’t need the experience of shooting it to know how to keep myself safe and not shoot my own fucking foot off. It’s common sense. I carefully place the firearm into my purse and head for a much needed shower.

“Go to bed. I am going to freshen up and head out. I’m gonna stop at Maggie’s and get Scarlett some more soup, too. If you want anything before I get back, just call me.” I lock myself in the bathroom. His bathroom. I lock him out of his own damn bathroom. I laugh because I know if I don’t, there is no way I am ever going to get out of this house today.

God, I’ve missed him.

CHAPTER 10

It’s a Party

After fully surveying the outside of the house, listing all the yard work that needs to be done, I make my way toward the porch. The lawn is overgrown, the trees need to be trimmed, and some need to be pulled, along with a bunch of old shrubs that smell like cat pee. The driveway leading up to the house is far too overgrown to be safe; that will need to be the first thing accomplished.

I climb the steps and I hear something inside the house. It’s dark and out in the middle of nowhere. With the shade of the overgrown trees, I can’t see much, even with the sunlight. I should have brought a fucking flashlight. That would have been the smart thing to do. I write it down on the top of my list with a bunch of exclamation points, because those will apparently make me not forget next time around.

I hear it again. It sounds like claws on wood. I don’t want to find out what the sound is. I stomp on the porch a couple times, hoping to scare the shit out of whatever is scaring the shit out of me. My foot goes right through the rotted out board in the porch. Fuck. Damn. My luck.

I look up at the missing window as I pull my foot free, and I can see two eyes staring at me. I scream like the little bitch I am. I turn to run away, but my fucking foot slips right back into the hole I just created. Just then the owner of the eyes jumps out of the window and runs off the porch. My life flashes before my eyes, but it was only a fucking raccoon. You have got to be fucking shitting me. Maybe I am not cut out to live in the middle of the woods.

I laugh to myself and wonder how many more of those little fuckers are rooming for free in my new house. I won’t be going inside to find out. Maybe I can get some kind of animal wrangler out here to put some traps in the house.

I pick my bag up from the porch where I dropped it minutes before and sling it back over my shoulder. I am so fucking done with this place today. A branch snaps in the distance; I can hear it crash through the cool fall afternoon. It is a common sound in these parts, especially this time of year. I unlock the car and climb in, backing up onto the grass so I can drive straight down the narrow driveway. I can barely drive, let alone back up all that way.

That is when I fucking notice it. That loud branch that fell Directly across the fucking driveway. There is no way I can get past it, and no way I can move the overgrown log on my own. Fuck it all to hell! My damn luck!

I put the car in park, grab my purse, and get out to see if it is as bad as it looks. Of course it is. The trunk of the oversized branch is too heavy for me to kick, let alone drag. I dig through my purse finally locating my phone and dialing Chrome. It rings for what seems like forever. His sleepy voice fills the line.

“Yeah, I am totally stuck at the house. This huge branch fell across the driveway.” I stomp my foot on the ground, as if he can see my little fucking fit through the phone. Not that I have anyplace else to actually be, but I hate being stuck anywhere.

“I will be there in a few. Is it a big branch? Do I need a chainsaw?”

I would think so. I mean, from the size of it, I would think he would need help. Although with arms like his, I wouldn’t put it past him to just pick the shit up and toss it to the side. I chuckle to myself.

“Just come quick, I miss…”

I try to get the last word out when something hits me from behind. The phone goes flying and I scream. Shit, that hurt. I look up, expecting to see more branches falling down, but I can see clearly up to the sky. Not a hanging branch in sight. What the fuck?

My ears start ringing and instantly my head is throbbing. Of course, this is exactly what I get for coming here all by myself. I take a few steps and turn to walk back to my car, but I am paralyzed.

It all fucking makes sense now.

Nothing fell on me. Nothing about this was an accident, because about three yards in front of me stands Blue, holding a huge branch and standing next to a handheld saw. I might as well start my fucking Hail Marys now because he is going to kill me. Right here. In the middle of nowhere. He’ll hide the body and no one is ever going to hear from me again. I am never going to find my daughter. I am never going to know the love of a child. I will never see my thirtieth birthday.

My mind runs a mile a minute, thinking of all the possible ways he is going to kill me and chop me into pieces with the saw lying on the ground. I close my eyes and the tears start to fall. I swore I would never be his victim again, but some things just never change.

“I told you, Princess. You will always be mine. Stop fighting me. I have waited a long time for our family to be together.” His words make me want to vomit. My stomach churns, and I take a few steps back trying to put as much distance between us as I can.

Each step backward I take, he takes another step in my direction until my feet hit the branch. Fucking trapped again. I run through my mind; how can I get through to him? What kind of weakness can I play on that will make him leave me be? Leave me unharmed?

“Blue, if you ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit… you won’t do this. You won’t hurt me.” My voice shakes just as much as my body. I grip my purse tight against my chest. Holding it as if it is going to protect me from him.

“I would never hurt you, Princess. You’re my everything.”

I don’t know why but his words snap something inside of me. I should be upset or sad. But I am fucking pissed. Rage floods through my body like fucking Niagara Falls. He would never hurt me?

“You would never fucking hurt me? Never hurt me? All you have done my entire life is hurt me! You ruined me! You took everything from me! I was a fucking child, Blue! A little girl!” My chest heaves, and I clench my bag tighter.

“You raped me! You took my fucking virginity by force! You don’t care about me! You never fucking did! You would have never done that if you cared. You don’t know what it means to care about another person. You take what you want and toss away the rest like fucking garbage!” My hand balls into a fist. I want to punch him. I want to hit him with the branch he is holding in his hands.

“I never hurt you, Star. You wanted it!”

The fucking balls on him. The fucking absolute audacity! I stand there in disbelief. Does he really fucking believe what he is saying?

My hands loosen and I remember the moments before I left Chrome at his house this morning. The fucking gun held safely inside my purse. I won’t hurt him. I won’t turn into a monster like he is. Maybe if I scare him, though, he will back up and leave me alone. Let me go unharmed.

But his words continue to repeat through my mind. You wanted it. I was an eight-year-old child. I was a sixteen-year-old virgin. I didn’t want anything. I said no. I said stop. I screamed for help, but nobody came to my rescue. Nobody helped me!

“I didn’t want it. I begged you to stop, but you ignored me. You ignored me! You hurt me! You ruined me! You ruined my entire fucking life!”

I slide my hand inside the purse, gripping the gun and letting the bag fall to the gravel at my feet.

“You took everything from me. You broke me,” I mumble. His bright blue eyes open wide with fear as he drops the branch to the ground and holds his hands up into the air.

“Star, Princess. Put the gun down.” He tries to walk toward me but I point it right at him. My hands are shaking and my eyes are flooded with tears. I can barely see, but I don’t back down. I can’t back down. It’s what he wants. It is what he knows I will do, because I have crumbled to his commands my entire life.

“Back the fuck away from me. Don’t take another fucking step or I will kill you the way I have been fucking dreaming about for years. Years! Do you fucking hear me? Years! I have wanted you dead as long as I can remember!” I release the safety on the gun.

“The only way I will ever fucking be free from you is if you are gone. I have asked you to leave me the fuck alone for years. But no. You are just a selfish sack of shit! You are a fucking shitty person! You raped me! You couldn’t take fucking NO for an answer! You treated me like a fucking possession, not a person! I thought I cared about you and maybe, for a point in time, I did. But I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate everything about you. You don’t fucking deserve to live. You will only do this again and again. To unsuspecting girl after girl. You are a fucking monster. I’ll see you in Hell.” My hand shakes, but I channel everything I have in me to steady it.

“Don’t do this, Star. What happens when you find Willow? How do you explain this to her?”

How do I explain it? I can’t even fathom what he would do to her if he met her. I was practically his little sister, yet he thought it was okay to stick his fucking face in my cunt when he wanted.

“When I find my daughter, I will rest easy knowing her monster of a father will never hurt her the way he hurt me.”

With every last bit of strength I have left in me, I pull the trigger of the gun. Life moves in slow motion as the gun bucks back and falls to the ground. A scream rips through my weak body and a car skids behind me, but I can’t move. I am stuck in the same place, the same position. The only difference is my hands cover my mouth in absolute shock that I just shot Blue.

His hands clutch his chest as a sea of red pours through the dirty brown jacket he’s wearing. Blue’s eyes are wide, and he is struggling to stand. I watch as the life slowly drains from his face, and I don’t feel an ounce of remorse for what I just did. It feels good. I should feel like a horrible person, but I don’t.

“Star! Get in my fucking truck now!” Chrome’s voice snaps me out of my shock. I turn to see Chrome’s face plastered with disbelief as he runs up the driveway toward me. He jumps right over the branch blocking my car’s path and pulls me into his arms, throwing me over his shoulder.

Blue falls to the ground still holding onto his bloody chest, and I start laughing. As Chrome climbs over the branch, my manic laughter gets louder. I can’t control it. The blood rushes to my head and my face burns. Tears pour from my eyes as I continue to laugh uncontrollably. I wonder if he’s actually dead. Or if he is going to jump from the ground and haunt my life for another couple decades. My body meets the seat of Chrome’s truck as he pulls his phone out.

“The old cabin, now.” I don’t know who’s on the other end, but I am not thinking straight at all. My hands are shaking and the laughing is turning into a full blown sob. I killed a person. I am a horrible person. Does it matter that he was going to hurt me again? Does it matter that he was a bad person? What gave me that right?

“Star, baby, listen to me now. I need you to be strong, back my truck down this driveway, drive to my house, go inside, and lock the door. Go in my bathroom and take a long shower. Do not go anywhere. Stay put until I get back. I will call River and he will help you. Can you do that, baby? Can you do that for me?”

I can hear Chrome’s words and instructions, but they aren’t registering. I try to block everything out the best I can. I really fucking try, but the only thing I can’t block out are the coughing and gurgling noises I continue to hear coming from Blue.

“Baby, please. Take my truck and go to my house. Quick.”

I start backing the huge black pickup truck down the driveway. Slowly, careful to stay on the overgrown path. A pack of motorcycles rips past the truck, weaving up the driveway followed by an identical pickup truck. I don’t want to know.

I cut the wheel and start the short journey to Chrome’s house. When I pull into the driveway, River is standing in the doorway but quickly sprints toward the truck. He opens the door and kills the engine while I stare blankly at the steering wheel. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can only think about the monster I am.

His arms slip under my body and pull me from the truck. He kicks the door closed as he carries me into the house. He only stops once we are safely inside Chrome’s bathroom. My body starts to convulse and River’s arms leave me. I feel worse. I shouldn’t feel comfortable or safe in his arms, but I do. I do because I know his brother is risking his entire life for me right now. To clean up the mess I made. I should go to jail for life. I deserve it. Instead, he is risking his life, his daughter, and everything to do God knows what.

River returns with a thick blanket and wraps me snuggly.

“You are in shock, Star.” His hands rub up and down my arms. The friction makes me feel warmed, but I am still shaking. I listen to his voice as he does his best to soothe me.

“Everything is going to be okay. I promise you that. Chrome and I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you understand me, Star?” I nod and acknowledge him. It is all I can do.

We sit there for what seems like hours until the bathroom door starts to creep open. I don’t turn to look. I just continue to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“I’ll take her from here.” Chrome’s quiet voice echoes through the tiny room. The men exchange positions as my guardian. I feel so fucking helpless. But I can’t fucking move. Why can’t I move?

I want to scream and yell. I want to fucking break shit. I want to lash out at everything and everybody. The amount of emotions that mix through my body rival that of your everyday lunatic. I am angry and melancholy. I am jubilant and free. I am worried and anxious. I am relieved.

“It’s okay, Star. Everything is okay.”

He turns the shower on and turns to wrap me in his strong embrace. Holding me close to his chest, he rubs lazy circles on my back and continues to reassure me that everything is fine. I just wish it was that easy.

Chrome slowly removes his clothes, starting with his boots first. He continues piece by piece until he stands before me in nothing more than his boxer-briefs. I want to smile, or touch him, but I can’t. He unwraps me from the blanket. Thankfully the shaking has stopped and I am slowly starting to feel as though I am not going to freeze to death. He strips the clothes from my body until I am completely naked. He’s tender and gentle with me. Careful where he touches me, never inching close to intimate spots.

He lifts me over the threshold of the tub, placing me on my feet while he pulls off his boxers and joins me in the shower. The water feels good running over my cold skin. The steam helps clear my thoughts. I am able to focus for the first time since Blue approached me. I have no perception of time. I just know this time he can’t come back for me.

Chrome’s hands fill with my fruit scented body wash and he washes me from top to bottom. Not missing a single spot. The action is intimate. Like a parent cares for his child, but our connection now is just so different. I wonder if there is any going back from the events of the day, or if we will just go in our own directions from here on out?

“I am so proud of you, baby. You are so strong. So brave. You did what you had to do, and he will never bother you again. I promise you that. We will never have to hear his name as long as we both live. I promise you that, Star. Never again.”

His words bring a level of comfort to me. I believe him; this will never come back to bother us. I feel more peaceful than I have since I settled into Woodstock. The soap and water rinse away every trace of the crime. Down the drain of the now dingy white bathtub. I just pray the shower is enough to cleanse my guilty soul despite the peace that fills my mind.

My body sags against the soft mattress in Chrome’s bed. I haven’t moved since yesterday when he dressed me and laid me down. Movies have continued to keep my mind from wandering back to what I did. What a monster I have become. It started with happy shit. Scarlett laid with me and we watched Snow White. I smiled at her concern for me. River insisted she wasn’t the one who got me sick, even though she was the only culprit in the house with the flu.

As the hours passed, Chrome came and went, holding me in his arms as I would cry, or just encouraging me to watch a funny movie instead of the gloom and doom list I had picked out of his collection. The Hangover, Ace Ventura, and The Break Up actually got me to crack a couple smiles. In the middle of the night, though, his phone rang, and he was gone.

River replaced him by my side and he hasn’t left. It’s almost dinnertime now, and we still haven’t spoken. I feel like I am mute.

“I’m a bad person. I am a criminal. I got your brother to cover up my transgressions.” My voice cracks as I choke back the sob that threaten. I pull my knees up to my chest, and cover my face with my clammy hands.

“Star, listen to me when I say this. I won’t discuss it again, either.” River turns in the bed and faces me. I should look at him, make eye contact, show him that I truly am paying attention. But I just can’t do it.

“Chrome lives this life. You didn’t make him do anything he hasn’t been involved with before. He did this for you, because he cares about you. It may sound selfish but he doesn’t want to lose you. If something happened, he would blame himself.”

He tries to continue but I cut him off.

“It wasn’t his fault! I did this!” The emotion finally takes hold of me, for the first time in a full day. I feel my heart begin to beat again. The feeling of actually living begins to flow though my body. “I am responsible for my own actions, River! No one else!”

“Star, you are fucking family now. We take care of our family, whether you like it or not. So fucking get used to it.”

Then, he leaves me alone for the first time since I killed the man who turned me into a victim for all those years. Alone with my thoughts, I try and rationalize what I did. Alone to think about his words. You are fucking family now. A family that cares about me, enough to put their own asses on the line. It makes me happy as I battle my own inner demons. Knowing I have these people to fall back on no matter what happens. That unconditional love and support. I may never be able to get over what I did. Walking around free, while he is dead in the ground somewhere. If they even were kind enough to bury him. River is as upset as I am when he walks back into the room. He sits down next to me and slings his arm over my slumped shoulder.

“He hasn’t always been like this, Star. We grew up in a good house, with good parents. He was on his way to The University of Georgia on a football scholarship.”

What? Chrome playing football? I couldn’t see it if I tried. Although he’s built like one of those giant blocker guys.

“It was his senior year. He had already been accepted, and he was going to be a football star. He had a straight ticket to the NFL. But he got hurt a couple weeks into the season. Doctors said he would never play again. That’s when he changed. That is when my brother became Chrome.” He shrugs it off like it isn’t a big deal, and all I can think about is how I wished it was Chrome himself telling me this story. Confiding in me during my darkest hours. I feel like we are doing something wrong, talking about such serious shit behind his back. It feels like betrayal.

“He started to hang around with the Renegades, and the rest is really history. Michelle did a fucking number on him years ago. But, Star…” He turns my face by the chin so I can look him in the eyes. “There hasn’t been anyone since her. Yeah, a couple club skanks here and there. But no one he would ever bring home. No one he would trust with Scarlett. Star, he needs you.”

I don’t know what to say, and I am sure he doesn’t expect much of a reply.

“Just think about it all. That’s all.”

“I want to go for a ride.”

Chrome looks across the bed where we both feast on takeout from Maggie’s. He figured French fries with American cheese and gravy would actually get me to eat. He was right. As I took the first bite, my appetite that had completely vanished returned.

“I can arrange that.” He smiles at me and takes a huge bite of his cheeseburger.

“On the bike, I mean. I need to clear my head.” Maybe that is just what I need to slowly start to move on.

“How about after we finish up dinner? It is really chilly out there tonight.” I don’t care. The colder the better. I just don’t want to feel tonight. That should help.

“I just need to get out for a little while. I’m ready.”I’m also realizing I need to get my shit together before tomorrow morning when I have no choice but to attend this sketchy family meeting. Even if Seven jumped ship on me, I know I need to go and find out exactly what it is all about.

“I got this thing tomorrow. Can you come with me?” I don’t know if I want to expose him to my family, but with everything that has gone on in the past couple days, I honestly don’t trust myself to go alone. If Seven was there, it would be a different story. But I just can’t do it solo.

“What is it?” he asks while he starts to clean up the metal tins scattered across the bed.

“Family meeting. As soon as my parents knew I was in town, they insisted they had to talk to all of us together. Only a couple of us will be there. Seven skipped out. Paisley is somewhere down South, refusing to come home.” I almost find an excuse for Blue in my mind, but I stop. It is still surreal.

“As long as you want me there, I will be there with you, babe.”

I take the last bite of my cheesy goodness and pass the dirty container to him. His smile helps to heal me after everything I have been through over the past day.

I don’t want to explain my shitty family, but I feel like I have to give him some kind of clue to the lion’s den he is going to be walking into.

“Hey, Chrome…” Even thinking about them makes my skin fucking crawl. “My family, they aren’t good people. This will probably be crazy and ugly. Just like the way they raised me.” I don’t want him unprepared, because all I can think about is him bolting. I hate my family.

*** The wind whips through my hair as we fly down the back roads surrounding the town. The breeze is far more liberating than the last time I was on the back of the bike, because I know no matter what happens now, Blue will no longer have a hold over me. I am finally free. The freedom I have begged and pleaded for is finally mine. No one can take that.

We take a sharp curve and I hold on tighter to his abs, pressing my tits against his back. I feel like I belong. I feel like I have finally found my place in the world, because it sure as fuck wasn’t as a coke whore in New York City, or as a porn star, paid to fuck and jet set around the country, sucking any dick I was instructed to. Told to fuck people for money.

It clicks. After everything that Blue did to me, taking direction when it came to sex was probably the worst shit for me to get involved with. It cut me deeper in such a raw way.

My life floods through my memory. The pictures of my childhood, good and bad times. My teen years, which were just a fucking hot mess; somehow, no matter what, Seven stood by my side. My life as an adult, endlessly searching for where I actually belonged. I would have never expected my life to plant me back in Woodstock, someplace I thought I so desperately hated.

Tomorrow, I will not only face my parents, but I will take the power away from them as well. They may have been shitty excuses for guardians, but if I want to come to peace in my life, I am going to have to let it all go. I can’t allow them to hold that kind of power over me, especially if I am going to stay in town. It’s bad enough I am going to forever be haunted by what I did to Blue, and looking at my life now, my upbringing and their shitty treatment is the least of my fucking problems.

So deep within my mind, I don’t notice that we are pulling up the narrow driveway to the house I bought. The place where I killed Blue. Chrome is forcing me to face what happened. The driveway is nothing what it looked like just a day ago. All the brush is cleared out. The road is big enough for several cars to pass by. We reach the front of the house and the yard is scattered with construction trucks and equipment.

It doesn’t feel right to be here. But I also feel more at home on this land than anywhere I have ever been in my life. I dreamed about happy times in this exact home when I was a little girl. It was everything to me and I went and fucked that all up, too. Can I ever find it in myself to get over what I did? Or will it continue to haunt me until I can’t be happy anywhere?

He kills the engine and puts out the kickstand.

“I didn’t want to show you yet. But I think it is something you needed to see to help you.” I don’t know if the work will help, but it’s enough to keep my mind off of all the bad that happened.

The porch is ripped apart, and the small shed in the corner of the yard is completely gone. The rotten wooden siding has been stripped off the house and there is some kind of paper insulation showing. Clearly people have been busting their asses here.

“Wow, I don’t even know what to say.” I just can’t stop staring and taking in all the work that has been done in a day. The windows are fixed. The acres of grass are mowed. Everything that was wrong is right.

“It should be done in about two weeks. The animals did a bit of damage to the interior, but for the most part, it isn’t much of a job.”

I can’t help but smile. He can’t see me, because he’s still facing forward on the bike. I don’t know if he is waiting for me to get off, or if he just wants to leave now that I have seen the work. The nasty memories fade as I begin to think about creating a life in this house. My future. Finding my daughter and bringing her home to decorate her room anyway she wants.

I pray for princess décor, but at her age now, I will probably be stuck with some shit like boy band nonsense. I smile with hope that I will find my Willow. I’m comforted knowing Blue will never get in my way. He will never hurt my daughter. I may have done it to protect myself at that rash moment, but my daughter will forever be safe because of my own actions. Selfish, brave, or criminal, I am okay with it. All because of my Willow.

“Thank you, Chrome. Thank you for being so good to me.”

I have nothing else I can say. What is left to be said between us? Love is reckless and impulsive. He may have slipped up with the endearment, but I won’t be returning it anytime soon. I love him with everything within me. His sacrifices for me confirmed that. I can’t wait for the opportunity in the distant future to tell him. The very fucking distant future.

“Anything for my baby girl.” Anything for me. Starburst fucking Bloom.

CHAPTER 11

Family Secrets

“Starburst, it is so good to see you.” My father wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. I can’t remember the last time I laid eyes on him, but he’s aged pretty badly. His shoulder length hair is white; not a hint of grey peeks through. A bald spot is starting to form in the back, although he hides it pretty well with his ponytail. His bright blue eyes still shine like mine used to. The only thing I got from him.

My mother speaks her greeting, but remains far cooler. She has always kept her distance from her children. Once we were off her tit, it was every man for themselves. She looks impeccable for her age. I always thought drugs were supposed to make you look worse. I know they fucked with me.

The house is an upgrade from everything I had the opportunity to live in growing up with these damn people. It’s still a far cry from stable, but at least it doesn’t have fucking wheels. The brown shag carpet is outdated and dingy. The walls are nicotine stained, yellowing under what I assume was white paint at one point in time. The entertainment center is something out of a 1960’s episode of Leave it to Beaver.

Journey sits across the room in a round papasan chair, thumbing through her cell phone. The phone I fucking pay for. Couldn’t she at least say hello? Why act like she hasn’t spent any time with me at all?

“Who is your friend, Starburst?” Seven’s mother nods in Chrome’s direction, and I immediately wish I hadn’t brought him.

“This is my boyfriend, Chrome.” For the first time I introduce him as more than someone I’m just fucking. I don’t know if I should be scared shitless or elated; my body sure feels a little bit of each.

He extends his arm and formally introduces himself to everyone in the room. Journey completely ignores him. Something is off with her, and I want to know what it is. She won’t make eye contact at all. I want to chalk it up to being a typical teenager, but I know her better than that.

“Well, since Seven isn’t coming, I guess we can get started.”

My mother plops down on the couch between Seven’s mother and my father. Her fingers lace between each of their hands and she takes a deep breath like the weight of the world rests on her shoulders. I’m expecting a declaration of cancer or some kind of death sentence. She would be dramatic enough to need a center stage performance for something like that, even though I don’t give a rat’s ass about her.

“Star, eleven years ago, we made the worst mistake of our lives.” My heart drops into my stomach and the room starts to spin. Eleven years ago. I was pregnant, very pregnant.

“We thought we were doing the right thing when Raine and Jeff adopted Willow.” I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want her excuses. I don’t want her giving herself a pat on the back for the worst thing she has ever done to me.

“I know that hurt you, Star. I didn’t think about it at the time; we were all so selfish. We had gone years raising you children and then there was another baby on the way. We wanted to move on with our lives, not end up raising your daughter, too.” Yup, way to add fucking insult to injury.

“No one ever fucking asked you to raise Willow. I could have done it all on my own. God knows you all fucked us up enough as kids. I wanted better for my daughter, but you didn’t give me the chance!” I’m starting to get worked up. I didn’t want to come here for a fucking confrontation or to talk about the past. I start to stand from the couch with every intention of leaving. Walking out the door and never giving these assholes the time of day again.

“Five years ago, they were killed. They had no next of kin. Willow…” she pauses and corrects herself, “Magnolia had no place to go. She was going to be put in state care and we couldn’t let that happen. So your father and I stepped in with Joni and Colt.” What. The. Fuck? This has got to be some kind of a sick fucking joke. My body collapses back against the couch as my legs give out from under me.

“Honey, we want you to meet someone.” Is this fucking for real? They are talking, but whatever they are saying makes absolutely no sense to me. Please tell me this is all some kind of mistake.

Chrome laces his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand as if he knows exactly what is coming. I squeeze back, but my grip on his hand doesn’t loosen a bit. I blink the tears back repeatedly, begging my body not to betray me, not to shed the tears I can feel burning in my eyes.

A little girl walks out from a bedroom door adjacent to the living room. She has beautiful, long blonde hair, parted down the middle and braided into pigtails. Her eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue and those chubby cheeks I have dreamed about all these years are still there. Her face is round and flawless. Her lips are plump just like mine; I can see myself as a little girl in her. There is little of her father in her. She might as well be a damn carbon copy of myself.

“Starburst, we want you to meet Magnolia Star Bloom, your daughter. We call her Maggie for short.”

My heart skips a beat. They changed her name. I would have never been able to find her on my own. They brought her to me. Something I never expected. Not in a fucking million years. They always did their damnedest to keep her away from me, and now here they are, handing her over to me. At least I hope they are, because if not, I will be giving them the fight of a fucking lifetime. No one is going to take her away from me ever again.

I let go of Chrome’s hand and run across the small room. Everything happens in slow motion. I open my arms and she crashes against my chest. Her arms wrap around my waist and squeeze me tight. I kiss the top of her head as I hold her just as tight as she holds me.

“I’ve been looking for you. God, you are really here.”

I pull back enough to memorize every detail of her perfect face. Tears pour from my eyes, and her sparkling blue eyes flood to match mine. We hold each other as we cry, and I pray I don’t lose my baby girl again. Ever.

“Do you want to come live with me, Magnolia?” I hold my breath, and pray she is as desperate to be with me as I am to be with her.

“That’s what we want to talk to you about, Star,” my mother interjects, and I feel like someone just stabbed me in the chest.

“I won’t let you take her from me again.” Magnolia pulls out of my arms, and I turn to my mother. “You kept her from me for almost eleven years. I will not miss another day.” I try to be as stern as I can, when my entire body feels like crumbling. They wouldn’t take her from me again. Would they?

“We are leaving Woodstock. You know, we gotta keep on truckin’ and we don’t think it would be fair to take Magnolia with us. Her life is here. We actually did right by her. She is in school, and she is brilliant. We don’t want to mess that up. God knows we fucked up so much with you girls.”

Understatement of the fucking century right there. I love and hate them all at the same time. I love them for rescuing her from foster care. I love them for finally bringing her to me, even after all of these years. I hate them for forcing me to give her up when she was a baby. I hate them for wasting the last five years of my life not telling them.

“You knew, all this time.” I look at Journey, and she still can’t make eye contact with me. I am hurt and humiliated. She knew all this time and yet never had the guts to stand up to our parents and tell me the truth. She has lived in the same house with them and watched my daughter grow up, without saying a word to me.

“I didn’t want to keep this secret from you, Star.” Bullshit; if I knew something like this, I would have moved heaven and earth to tell my sister. I want to yell at her, to berate her in front of everyone, until I remember that my daughter is standing next to me. The little girl I have been searching for. The piece of me I never wanted to walk away from.

“I’m sorry, Magnolia. I am so sorry I missed out on so much.” I push the lone strand of hair out of her face, and she smiles at me. She is quiet and shy. Just like I was once upon a time. So many minor details about her remind me of myself as a little girl, or maybe that is just the way I want to remember myself before I was put through the wringer.

“It’s not your fault… Mom.” Her voice is quiet, but beyond beautiful. She sounds like an angel. I pray that she believes what she said. I hope she can forgive me for all the time that I missed. “I will come with you. I want to.”

The blind trust is enough to make my heart burst. I vow I will never let her down. I would rather die a thousand deaths than hurt her in any way.

I pull her in, squeezing her tight again. I don’t want to let go. I’m afraid I will wake up and this will all be one big dream. Then again, I could’ve never dreamed up exactly how fucked up my own parents would be. Keeping her from me without any regard for her well-being or my feelings.

“Magnolia, I don’t have a house right now. I have a motel room. But my home should be done soon. It is really neat. It used to be an old cabin I dreamed of as a little girl. You can decorate your room anyway you want.” I smile as I think about her decorating one of the massive bedrooms in the spacious house.

“I get my own room?” Her face brightens and I see the first genuine smile since I walked into my parents’ shit box of a house. I wipe my tear stained face and turn to Chrome. He sits attentively on the couch wearing a blinding smile. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I see the hint of a tear in the corner of his eye.

“You get anything you want from here on out, kiddo. Anything at all.” I have so much time to make up for, and there is nothing I wouldn’t give her. Not a damn thing.

“Star, why don’t we let Magnolia and your mom spend a little time together, and we can hash out the details of her coming with you?” My father’s words catch me off guard, but I think it is a good idea. I don’t want Magnolia, or Maggie, exposed to whatever kind of argument the discussion may become. I want her protected from everything.

“Mind if I join you?” Chrome’s voice comes from behind me, and I am torn. He is really a major part of my life, but I think it is way too soon to involve him in major decisions with Magnolia. I would never ask the same of him when it came to Scarlett.

“Just for support, Star.” He reaches his hand out and squeezes mine. His touch calms me, giving me the strength I know I’m going to need. Thankfully, I will be handling it with my father, someone who wasn’t as much of a shit bag when I was growing up.

“That is fine.” I give him the little bit of a smile I can conjure up. I should be jumping for joy, but until my daughter is in my car, leaving this place with me, I will remain guarded.

We walk into the dated kitchen and sit around a wicker kitchen table. The walls are just as stained in here as they are in the living room. I want to bitch that this is no place for a child to be raised, but could I have provided more over the years? Would Willow have been a victim of my drug use, and whatever colorful behavior I brought home with me on more than one occasion? Maybe things truly worked out the way they were meant to. I shove my own personal judgment to the side and pay attention to my dad.

“We’re leaving on Sunday. A motel isn’t the ideal place for you two to live, but it will have to do for the time being, Star.” Before I can say anything about them completely dumping her like a piece of trash, Chrome takes charge of the situation.

“Neither of them is returning to that motel. They are staying with me and my daughter until the house is finished. Simple as that.”

I turn to face him, and I know there isn’t room for discussion on this topic. I think about all the pros and cons of spending that time together, but having Magnolia adjust to my parents leaving with Scarlett’s company may just be the best possible transition. Seeing as Scarlett and Magnolia are around the same age, the question plagues me. Does Chrome know my baby girl?

“Did you…” I pause, looking for words that won’t offend him, but I don’t have to finish my question before he knows what I am trying to ask.

“Scarlett and Magnolia are in the same class. Had I known all of this, I would have done something about it long ago. I’m sorry, Star.” Here is this big fucking biker guy, looking as though he wants to cry for me. I want to smile, but I can’t. I want to wrap my arms around him, but I don’t. I just leave it be. There will be a time and place for us to have this heart-to-heart without my father involved.

“She can spend one last night here. I will be back in the morning to pick her up. Please make sure she packs everything. I don’t want her forced to leave anything more than she already has to behind. I know how shitty it can feel, since I was forced to so many times as a girl.”

I wrap my arms around my baby girl after we’re done, giving her all the love I hold in my body, and I promise her I will be back bright and early in the morning to start our new lives together. It all feels like a dream and I pray that, when I wake up tomorrow morning, life will still be as fucking wonderful as it is right this minute.

When she is safely out of the room, I feel the rage burn through my body.

“Don’t you even fucking walk out of this room. Turn your fucking pathetic asses around and face the fucking music for once in your fucking lives,” I yell in my parents’ direction. They freeze in place, slowly turning around. I can feel the heat radiating off of my face as my temper boils over. I just can’t hold it all back anymore. It has been stuck here for far too long.

“All these years. All these fucking years,” I mumble under my breath while staring at the floor, unable to meet their eyes. “First, you don’t protect me from that monster. I tried to tell you over and over again, but you fucking ignored me. You ignored your fucking eight-year-old child telling you something was wrong. I was eight!”

“Star, that is why we didn’t invite him here tonight.” My mother’s voice is a mere whisper, but I can still make out every single word. Didn’t invite him? So that fucking makes it okay somehow?

“Did he know? Did he fucking know my daughter was here with you? Did he fucking see her? Did he fucking spend time with her?” I swear on everything that is holy in this world they better answer no. They better not have allowed that monster anywhere near my fucking angel.

“Star, you are being irrational. He made a mistake.” A mistake that lasted for almost two fucking decades? I don’t think so. Mistakes are a one-time thing.

“Did he?” I scream. I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes again. If there is a God at all in this world, they will say no.

“He knew Magnolia was his daughter, but he wasn’t around often enough to spend time with her.” My father’s words do nothing but piss me off even more.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I pace back and forth across the room. I want to punch something. I need to fucking break something. I spy a picture frame in the corner of the room, and as I pass by it, I pick it up and chuck it right at my mother’s head. She jumps and it narrowly makes contact with her before smashing into pieces against the wall.

“How fucking stupid could you be? All those years I told you what he did to me. All those years you ignored my pleas for help. Then you are stupid enough to leave him alone with her. I will never fucking forgive you, I can tell you that.” My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath. Chrome’s hand holds tightly onto my waist, keeping me steady on my feet while I unload years of hate for them.

“I can fucking guarantee you two fucking things.” My voice starts low and gets louder with every word. “You better say your goodbyes, because you are never going to get the opportunity to see my daughter ever again. As for her father, she will be safe. He will never hurt her the way he hurt me. Never. I can fucking promise you that!”

I don’t want to give them another day of her life. I don’t want to leave without my daughter, but instead of considering my parents’ happiness, I try to tell myself this last night is what Magnolia needs. These are the people who have raised her for the last five years.

I turn and walk out the door without looking back. Did that really just happen?

“So you mean to tell me, for the past five years, she has lived with our parents, and nobody had the fucking common decency to tell you until they wanted to dump her on you and return to their own fucking pathetic lives?” Seven’s voice pierces my eardrum through the phone line. Pissed would have been the way to describe her before I told her what our parents conspired to do. Now that she knows, I am pretty sure she wants to kill them and then piss on their bodies. Not that I would object to that.

“Yeah, that is exactly what they did. All these years. They finally gave up their facade when I rolled into town with the mission of finding her. Journey has been in on it for years. I don’t think I am ever going to be able to get over what she did to me. I expected it from them, but her? Not one bit.”

I use Seven as my own personal therapist, but I also know that, once the dust settles, I am going to start seeing someone professionally. I need to, not just for me to move on with everything in my life, but so I can be a good mother to this little girl who depends on me now.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things, Star.” I’ve never liked the sound of that. Anytime she starts to get serious, I freak out. I know I have done her wrong so many times, but I just want to put it in our past.

“Paisley is here. In Manhattan.” I don’t even know what to say. Just a few days ago, she was in her little love nest in Daytona Beach and now she’s with Seven in Manhattan of all places? Something isn’t right.

“Is she okay?”

I worry about her. More than I probably should. She is a big girl. God, I can’t even begin to think about all the shit I was getting into at her age, but the fact that I am the oldest is what always reminds me that I should be their protector.

“She has a couple bumps and bruises. She hasn’t been too open about what happened, but I am taking good care of her. I think she is going to stay here with me for a while. Since you won’t be back in the city anytime soon. Don’t worry, though. I will keep an eye on her. Whatever trouble she got in won’t touch her here. I promise you that.” Even though it was always Seven and Star, she loved my sisters just as much as I did.

“Hey, Seven, how do you feel about coming up here for Christmas? I know we haven’t talked in a couple days, but I bought that old rental cabin. You know, the huge one on the outskirts?” Of course she knows, because we would both daydream about a happily ever after there.

“If that’s what you want, Star; I will make sure that Levi, Paisley, and I come up for Christmas. If our parents are really moving on, I have no problem being in Woodstock.” Her words warm my heart, and I can’t wait to decorate my first real house and try to make this Christmas the best one yet. I feel like a little kid, anxious for Santa Claus to come.

We say our goodbyes and I set out to cook a meal. I know guys. I am probably going to burn Chrome’s house down, but I have to learn how to cook. I can’t live on food from Maggie’s every night. Not by a long shot. I want better for myself, and I want better for my sweet Magnolia.

CHAPTER 12

This is What You Call a Family?

I think about that old 90’s movie, Newsies. Christian Bale walks through the streets of New York City at the turn of the century singing about having a family, something he has never known.

I’m nervous for my daughter. I worry that I will fail her and not be able to provide her with the family she honestly deserves.

“Wanna talk?” Chrome’s voice distracts me as I fill the oversized metal pot and place it on the stovetop. I grab the box of pasta from the bag on the counter and work on dumping the frozen meatballs into the baking dish for the oven.

“I’d like that.” There is a lot we need to get out in the air. Yesterday, life may have been difficult, but now, the risk of our new relationship is more. I have to weigh the effect this could have on my daughter and her future. I love him, but she is my life.

“I figure Magnolia can share a room with Scarlett until your house is ready.” Sounds logical, as long as Scarlett is feeling better.

“How is Scarlett feeling?” I open the pre-heated oven and nearly burn my arm on the side of it as I slide the baking tray inside.

“She’s better. Star, I think we need to talk about us. Things are changing. Shit has happened, and we need to be on the same page.”

He pulls a chair out at the table and watches me work. I don’t want to look at him because I will completely lose focus on dinner. It has been days since I felt his hands on me, and I am aching for him in so many ways.

“You’re right. I have a lot of questions, about your work, the club, everything. We know so little about each other.” I wash my hands in the large metal sink and turn toward him while I dry them on the blue kitchen towel.

“There are some things I just don’t want part of my private life. The club is one of them. I don’t want you wrapped up in it. I hang out with the guys daily, but I won’t force it on you.” The club. This infamous fucking motorcycle club. I want to know more about it.

“I get it, and if it is something you love, I am fine with it. I just need to know what you do for them?” I guess I just don’t get the logistics of these clubs.

“Some of the shit we do is illegal, and I won’t get you involved in that. I’m the Sergeant at Arms. I keep shit straight. I’m the muscle.” I don’t know if I should just leave it be or pry, but I don’t think I want to know more than this.

“If our girls are going to be around it, I want your word nothing bad will happen to them.” Our girls. The momma bear in me is starting to become possessive over Scarlett, just as much as I want to protect my very own Willow. Willow. It is going to be so strange adjusting to call her something different. A name I didn’t give her. Magnolia Star. After me. I guess I could get used to it.

“Of course I won’t let anything happen to them. I’ve done my best to keep Scarlett away from it since before she was born. It would gut me if anything happened to her, or Magnolia. Star…” He pauses and his hands run over his smooth, bald head. He lets out a deep breath. “I’ve watched Magnolia grow. She’s been friends with Scarlett since they started Kindergarten together years ago. This is a small town.”

I don’t know whether I should be jealous that he’s had this time with my daughter, or pissed off that I was robbed of it. Maybe I should just be happy knowing he can share those memories with me since I wasn’t fortunate enough to be there for them when they happened.

“I’m just glad I will have her back tomorrow.”

Happiness is something that has always been few and far between in my life. Finally, I have the chance to be genuinely happy, and I am going to fucking carpe diem.

“This is Ryker,” Chrome says as he points to a younger guy, maybe mid-twenties, with a short, dark, military style haircut. He is tall, but not nearly as tall as Chrome. “This is Cowboy.” He directs his stare to an older guy with a gray ponytail at the base of his skull. His arms are filled with faded tattoos. “Last, this is Diesel.” The first thing I notice are Diesel’s striking blue eyes. His hair isn’t as short as Ryker’s, but it certainly isn’t long by any means. It’s as light as my natural blonde. He clearly belongs in a fucking movie, riding a motorcycle in some gang.

Meeting a couple of the guys left me reassured that my stereotyping of bikers was pretty fucking inaccurate. For the most part, they’re good guys and helpful as all hell. Tonight, they’re helping paint my house. Never met me once in their lives, but they agreed to help out of simple respect for Chrome. I guess being a biker’s girl has its perks.

“Mom? You sure the hot pink is okay?” Magnolia asks from behind me as we climb up the brand new porch of our home. Seeing all the work that’s gone into the property over the past week makes our currently cramped living situation so damn worth it. The old wooden shingles that lined the house are gone, replaced by light blue siding. The white trim of the windows and shutters reminds me of an old farm house and the porch has been completely replaced. We have to paint it, but it’ll wait until spring.

“Maggie, you could paint each wall a different color and I wouldn’t care. It’s your room; you can do anything you would like with it.”

The whole motherhood thing is still kind of throwing me for a loop. We got into our first real mother-daughter fight two nights ago because I wouldn’t let her sleep over a friend’s house on a school night. It was the end of the fucking world. Screams and I hate you’s flew through the air. My feelings genuinely were hurt until Chrome reassured me it was pretty typical for her age. Once everyone woke the following morning, it was completely forgotten. I remember doing the same to my own mother, except my outbursts never impacted her at all.

“Star, I need to know which color is going where?” Chrome’s arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me in close. He grazes his lips to my temple and the room fills with hoots and hollers. I have never been one for public displays of affection, but I’ll never get enough of his hands on me.

“The yellow and cream is for the kitchen and dining room. The sea green is for the bathroom downstairs, and the grey is for the office in the back. I think that’s all I have for down here. Magnolia and I will handle the two bedrooms upstairs.” I turn in his arms and give him a wink.

“Tomorrow, I have to set up the furniture delivery. By Sunday, we should be out of your place completely.”

I ignore the look of disappointment on his face. He doesn’t want us to leave, but there are so many reasons why living together just isn’t the best idea. Even beyond the fact that we have known each other for a few weeks at most. Seven can have her overnight happily ever after, but for me; I need some time for the situation to grow on me.

I did, however, include Scarlett in the planning of the house. There are so many rooms in this place, so one of the spare bedrooms has been designated hers. She can do whatever she chooses with it. Chrome and I argued over it, but I totally won; that’s becoming a pattern.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says, but I won’t let that change the fact that I know this is the right thing to do. I won’t let him pressure me. I bought this house for a reason; it’s part of my healing.

“This discussion was over days ago, Atticus.” I shoot him my death stare and use his real name, telling him I mean business. It is funny to watch him back down.On the topic of healing, my first session with my therapist is next Tuesday. I talked with Seven at length, but I realized, no matter how much unloading on her helps, I need professional help. I can’t spill the fact that I gunned her brother down in cold blood. As much as I want to just forget it ever happened. He was still her brother. No matter how shitty he was to us over the years, no matter how much she hates him, this is a secret I will be forced to keep to myself for eternity. I’m not up for fancy medication; I just need someone to help me work through the problems I have overcome so they can stay in my past.

What can I say? Life is good. For the first time, I can honestly say that and believe it.

EPILOGUE

Thanksgiving

Almost three weeks have gone by since Magnolia and I moved into the first place I can honestly call a home. The same goes for her, and I can tell she genuinely appreciates the stability I have been able to provide. She doesn’t say much; she’s shy, which reminds me of how I was as a child. I often wonder if someone hurt her the way Blue hurt me, but I have to push the thought out of my mind and pray nothing happened. Maybe, in time, we can have that heart to heart, but now we are still just trying to get to know each other.

I found this adorable restaurant a couple towns over that offered full catering for Thanksgiving. In the past, we have never done much. Seven and I would head out to dinner at some posh Manhattan restaurant, eat something completely nontraditional, and then get absolutely shit-housed. This year, though, I wanted to make it about family. My family, the new family I have created. Blended with the only family I have known over the years.

The guest list became lengthy when I allowed Chrome to bring in the wayward guys from the club who really had no place else to go for the holiday. I felt bad, because I know the feeling of being unwanted, the feeling of trying to find your place when everyone you depend on has turned their backs. A handful of the guys decided to join us. Ryker, Cowboy, and Diesel have been a staple in our day-to-day lives for weeks, and they are front and center in our festivities. Zane, Chrome’s brother, made his way home for the first time in months, along with Jett, another club member.

Seven, Levi, and Paisley made the drive up from the city. I’m planning on begging Paisley to stay here with me. I still don’t know what happened to her in Florida; Seven wasn’t able to get any information out of her. It was clearly bad, and something she plans on repeating to no one. The guest bedroom at the end of the hallway will be hers if I can work my magic. River has been spending a lot of time with her in the short time she has been here. I know he is an amazing friendly ear when anyone needs it. They aren’t half bad to look at together, either.

I invited Journey. I didn’t want to, considering I still feel incredibly betrayed by her, but the holidays are about moving on, forgiving, and acceptance. She never replied, and as of yet, she hasn’t shown, either.

The dining room is jam-packed, completely dwarfing the sprawling twelve person dining room table I insisted would be enough when we moved in. Silly me; who would have thought my life would become so chaotic so quickly? I certainly didn’t.

People sit at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, the small two person dining table in the kitchen nook, and most importantly, smack dab in front of the television in the family room. Apparently, football is a big deal on Thanksgiving, but you could have fooled me.

“Dinner!” I yell through the lively halls of the house, cuing everyone that our delivered meal is ready at last. Chairs scrape across the hardwood floors, boots stomp down the hallways, and the kitchen floods with all the people whom I have come to call family.

“This is all perfect.” Magnolia appears by my side with Scarlett not far behind. The girls are fascinated by the scene before them. I would be, too, if I didn’t Google the shit out of how to plan a family Thanksgiving.

If you could only have seen my ass on Pinterest trying to make these fucking centerpieces no one has batted an eye at twice, you would have laughed. At least I gave it a try, right?

“Go get your plates, girls.”

They get in line between their aunts and a bunch of big bikers. I wouldn’t call this a Normal Rockwell Thanksgiving, but it is a perfect new Starburst Bloom Thanksgiving, that’s for sure.

“Honey, go get your plate.” Chrome comes up behind me, scaring me half to death. His hands are full, one holding onto a plate stacked a mile high with turkey and all the fixings. The other grips my ass cheek through the thin fabric of my knee length brown dress.

“I’m on it. I just wanted to make sure everyone else gets a plate first.”

Seven walks by with a plate and I smile at new traditions for our new beginning as a family. We have been through so many years together that being together in such a positive way warms my heart.

“I never thought I would see the day when this porn star bitch could put together a fucking Martha Stewart holiday. I think Hell just froze over.” Seven laughs, and I can’t help but join her. I guess Hell did just freeze over.

* * *

“Leave the dishes. We’ll clean up in the morning, Star.” Chrome grabs the empty mashed potato tray from my hands and tosses it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Everyone is gone, and I have been watching you strut around the house in this little brown dress all day. All I’ve wanted to do is peel it off you and have a feast of my own.”

His words send a shiver through my body. I smile and lick my bottom lip. No matter how many times I have him firmly planted deep within me, it’s never enough.

“Is that so?” I giggle as I bend over to take out the overflowing bag of trash. “So if I told you I haven’t been wearing panties all day long, would that turn you on a little more?”

I can’t even get my laugh out before I feel him grabbing at my waist. The bag of garbage goes flying out of my hand, crashing into a mess on the floor. I laugh as I try to pull out of his arms and make a break for it. But he is just too damn strong. That, combined with the fact that I can’t stop laughing and catch my breath, does me no justice.

His laughter booms through the quiet kitchen as he spins me around. My feet lift off the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my bare feet at his ass. Chrome’s mouth meets with mine in a battle of dominance. Who will be in charge for this go-round? It is something that is becoming a daily thing. Most days I cave and let him take the lead. Just like tonight.

My back slams against the kitchen cabinets and his hands palm my ass, raising me up until the skirt of my dress is bunched at my waist and my ass crashes down on the counter.

Dishes clatter all over the kitchen floor. A glass bowl smashes into a thousand pieces, the leftover stuffing goes flying, and my ass is firmly planted in whatever was left of the pumpkin pie. But it doesn’t stop either of us.

My fingers work at the button of his black dress pants as his lips move down my neck, heading straight for my tits. As I free his cock, the thin material covering my braless tits shifts, and Chrome’s mouth nibbles at my hard nipples.

A moan slips past my lips as I feel his rock hard dick nudge at my wet cunt.

“We can’t… the girls…” I try and coax him to take this upstairs, as pumpkin pie sticks between my ass cheeks. They are upstairs, probably dead asleep since we are letting Scarlett sleep over for the night.

“They aren’t gonna come down here. Shhh,” Chrome whispers in my ear before he sucks on my earlobe. Fuck, that feels good.

I can’t complain anymore. My head falls back, smacking on the hard oak cabinets. Shit, that hurt! His cock pushes inside me and I completely forget about the pain. His piercing massages my tight cunt and all my reservations are gone. My body responds to each thrust without thought.

He pulls my ass further down the counter and slams fully into me. His dick touches places I never knew existed and I know I’m not going to be able to take much more. Every time we fuck it just gets better. Damn.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into my mouth as his tongue explores. Every stroke feels so fucking good. His dick slides out and he rubs it up and down on my clit before roughly pushing back in. I can’t hold it back any longer. The release I have been desperately holding back starts flooding out of me. Gush after gush sprays against his pants. I bite my lip and I feel his dick pulse inside me, flooding my hot cunt with his seed.

Chrome’s body sags against mine, as we hold onto each other, sticky and spent against the kitchen counter. If this is what the holidays are going to be like in our house, I think I could totally get used to this whole big family happily ever after thing. I can’t wait to see what Christmas is going to bring us.

If you loved Finding Willow, you’ll love the prologue from Dawn’s next title:

October

The music blared in my ear as the lights damn near blinded me. My heels were far too fucking high, and the club was packed. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Oh, that’s right! I am fucking broke.

I keep telling myself I can do this. I try to ignore the cat calls surrounding the stages. One drunk in the corner whistles before throwing back a shot. Another man shouts at me to take my clothes off. Twenty four years old and instead of being a college graduate or settling down, I am taking my clothes off for money.

This morning the owner of the small motel I have been living in for three months gave me until the morning to come up with three hundred dollars or I would find myself homeless in Daytona Beach. Far from any friends or family. I could call my sister, Star. But that would mean admitting failure and that would never fucking happen. I am just way too proud for that.

I am snapped out of my thoughts when some scumbag with a matted beard grabs my leg.

“No fuckin’ touching!” my voice fails me. Instead of the authoritative tone I was aiming for, I sound like the scared little girl I really am. I seductively dance back toward the pole in the center of the stage while I start to untie the barely there triangles of pink fabric covering my tits. I have never been shy about being naked, but everything about this screams run for your fucking life, Paisley!

“Yeah baby! Shake that ass!” The rowdy men get louder, and I take my thong covered ass to the front of the stage again. The Buckcherry song, Crazy Bitch is nearing the end and I wanted to get as many singles stuffed in my crotch before I walk out that door.

I drop down onto my knees, and thrust my pussy into the faces of three men sitting center stage. My hands slide over my bare breasts, and make their way for the tiny piece of fabric keeping me from being entirely naked. I rub my hand repeatedly over my cunt giving them the show of their lives.

When I open my eyes, I meet the most piercing set of blue eyes I have ever seen. His jaw is square. His hair is long and brown, pulled back into a lose ponytail at his nape. There is a long scar that runs under his eye, and when our eyes meet, he flashes me the most beautiful smile. I forget I am on stage in front of hundreds of perverts, and focus on him alone.

He is the man that will make my every nightmare come to life. I just don’t know it yet.

About the Author

Dawn is a woman of many colors. Born and raised in the North-East, the youngest child of three, to two hard working, and extremely dedicated parents, she thrived on her love for creative writing; which started with the Narnia series. Her commitment to hard work lead her down a number of career paths over the years, stopping with her love for fiction.

Dawn is a mother, entrepreneur, and self proclaimed book whore; who enjoys whiskey, iPhones, and kink. She also loves to hear from her readers, so feel free to drop her a line anytime!

Find Dawn Robertson:

Facebook : http://facebook.com/authordawnrobertson

Twitter : http://twitter.com/eroticadawn

Website : EroticaDawn.com

AuthorDawnRobertson@gmail.com

Want another great story? Check out this excerpt from WELCOME TO SUGARTOWN by Carmen Jenner!

Chapter One

Ana

There’s a mind-numbing restlessness that comes with living in small towns. The gossip, the people, and the unending monotony that makes you want to poke your eyes out with a fork. I’ve lived my whole life in Sugartown, so I should probably expect nothing to ever change, and each new day to be just as dull as the last. And yet, every day I wish for the unexpected. I wish for big cities, for open-mindedness, for the ability to jump on my bike and ride the hell out of town and never look back.

Every day I dream of leaving Sugartown. And every day I open this crummy pie shop, I make pies and serve customers, and stay several hours after closing to make pies for the following day. I’m nineteen. The world should be full of endless possibilities, right? Wrong. Oh, so very wrong because I’ve just finished high school and my family happen to own this joint. So instead of making the world my oyster and all that, I’m stuck wearing this retro waitress uniform for the rest of my days—my mum and dad had some kind of rockabilly diner fetish, it’s sad really, don’t ask.

Sugartown sits smack bang on the highway in the middle of nowhere. It’s a quaint little town and a pleasant enough place to stop on your journey from there to anywhere but here, but no one ever stays. And why would they? It’s surrounded on both sides by nothing but cane fields and the ancient sugar mill, that spreads its sweet acrid stench in a smoggy cloud over the whole town, making everything smell like burnt toffee. There’s nothing to do, nowhere to go, and the nearest town is 25 kilometres away.

I sigh and lean over the counter, staring out the window. Across the road, my dad has shut the doors to his other business, a garage specialising in custom Harley-Davidson fittings: Big Bob’s Bikes and Auto. He leans against his bike and smokes a cigarette as he waits.

My mum’s dream was to open a diner and make pies all day. My dad’s? To run a garage and customise Harleys. That way he could combine his early midlife crisis with his love of mechanics. They were both lucky enough to have had their dreams realized, and both unlucky enough to have them shattered when she found out she had cancer. Amid the chemo and the hospital visits, mum taught me how to make the pies from her recipes. Now I bake pies in the kitchen she taught me how to bake in, dad runs his garage across the street and in a way it’s like my mum’s dream is still alive and kicking. Though I doubt she expected the dragon stepmother to be a part of that dream.

“Ana, are you even listening to me?” My friend and long-term tormentor Holly screeches in my ear. Holly works every shift with me. She’s all kinds of crazy gorgeous with wild red curls, green eyes and more ‘personality’ than a whole ward of mental patients.

“It’s kinda hard not to listen to you, Hols.” I say, and then laugh as I add, “On account of you never shutting the fuck up.”

“Shut up, biatch, I know you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said. Lucky for you, I’ve got no problems repeating myself.”

“Yippee.” I deadpan.

She waves that away like I’m the one with all the crazy and begins wiping down the counter with a dirty rag, smearing grease all over the Formica. I love her, but I think Holly may have been dropped on her head when she was a baby. “Anyway, as I was saying, are you going to Nicole’s party next week?”

A scruffy looking kid with strawberry blonde curls and bright blue eyes comes strutting through the shop, saving me from a tiresome conversation in which I continue to argue all the reasons why going to that party would be disastrous for someone like me and where Holly manages to twist the entire conversation back around to the fact that not going would be social suicide. The little brat acts like he owns the place, pokes his tongue out at me and jumps up on the counter that Holly just finished wiping down.

I ruffle his hair and he smiles up at me. “What’s up, Sammy?”

“Nothing. Whereth mum?”

“The dragon’s out the back, primping her dragon lady curls for my dad.”

I was an only child, until I wasn’t any more. Until former Belle’s Pies employee Kerry sunk her talons into my dad after Mum died. Eventually they got married and she fell pregnant. Kerry sat around on her big-fat-pregnant bum while I worked double shifts on the weekends in the shop.

I was thirteen.

I can’t fathom what Dad sees in her. It must be the sex, because I can’t find a single redeeming quality. The only good thing to come out of that woman was Sammy. He’s six now, every second word comes out with a lisp and, despite his unfortunate parentage, he just may be my favourite person in the entire world. It appears I’m his favourite, too, a fact that irritates the dragon beyond belief, that I may or may not play in my favour just to piss her off.

“But thee thaid thee was going to take me for ice cream tith afternoon.”

“It’s Friday night. Sorry, kiddo, but you’re stuck with me.”

“Ith OK. I liketh being thuck wif you, Ana Cabana.” He beams, and it’s so hard not to pick him up and squeeze him until his adorable little guts squish out.

“Aw, thanks, brat. I liketh being thuck wif you, too.” I mock and ruffle his hair once more for good measure. “Now, go do your homework and I’ll bring you a milkshake once the dragon lady is gone.”

“Thweet.” He jumps off the counter, poking his tongue out at Holly who pokes out her own in return and then proceeds to make monkey faces at him. I swear, sometimes it’s like Holly and Sam are the same age. She makes out like she can’t stand him when the opposite is true—she adores him just as much as I do.

Sammy bounds over to a booth in the back, pulls out his supplies and gets to work, his tongue poking out in concentration.

A few minutes later the dragon stalks through the back door and into the kitchen, huffing when she sees Sammy through the giant serving window. She struts over to him, leaving a cloud of cheap perfume in her wake.

“Sammy baby, you didn’t come and say hi to mummy.” Dragon ruffles his hair the way I do, but he pulls away when she touches him and glares at her.

“My nameth noth Thammy, ith’s Tham. And I’m not a baby.” He says indignantly and goes back to his studies.

Dragon shoots me a look. “Daddy and I have a party to go to tonight, so don’t wait up.”

God, it’s so gross when she calls him Daddy. The mental images those words conjure when they come from her mouth are enough to make me vomit for days on end. The sad thing is he’s almost old enough to be her dad. And now for the second time in as many minutes I’m thinking of my dad having sex, which is wrong on so many, many levels.

Without even a kiss goodbye for Sammy, Dragon sashays through the shop in her short skirt and too-tight singlet top with the cut outs and her high heeled boots.

“Do you ever want to crash one of their parties?” Holly pipes up, as we watch Kerry cross the street. She kisses my dad full on the lips and then straddles the seat behind him. He revs the throttle and they ride away into the sunset.

“And watch a bunch of drunk, greying old bikers boast about how big their engines are while their trampy women drape themselves across their laps? Not my idea of fun, Holly.”

“Yeah, bunch of hussies. Though I wouldn’t mind draping myself across Red Hot Rob’s lap again.”

“Whath a huthy?” Sam’s little lisp pipes up from beside me.

“Yo’ momma.” Holly shoots back with a cheeky grin.

“Seriously Holly? You don’t think he’s going to repeat that?”

She shrugs. “It’s true.”

“Hussy is a bad word,” I tell him sternly, giving Holly a pointed look. “If I ever catch you saying it there’ll be no more Banana Chocolate Cream Ana Cabana Surprise Pies, okay?”

They’re Sam’s favourite. It’s a concoction I made up one night when Dad and the dragon were at one of their booze fests, and Holly and I had raided their stash. Sam had been sound asleep, until we began marauding the kitchen with a serious case of the munchies. I’d pulled it together enough to bake a pie with the only edible things left in the house: chocolate, bananas, beer and mini-marshmallows. The beer was downed before it had a chance to meet chocolate and banana—probably for the best—and after passing out before we had a chance to taste the creation, we woke to Sam covered head to toe in chocolate. He’d devoured the whole thing. The name stuck, and oddly so did the recipe—minus the beer, of course—and now it’s one of our best sellers.

Sammy’s eyes go wide as saucers and he vigorously nods his head. “Okay.”

“And I thought I asked you to do your homework?”

“You thaid you wath gonna get me a milkthake when the dragon left, and the dragonth been gone for a hundred yearth, already.”

“If I get you a milkshake will you please go and do some schoolwork?” He nods enthusiastically and scurries back to his booth.

The sound of a bike tearing up the street draws the attention of all three of us. Growing up around a motorbike enthusiast I’ve come to learn the sounds that the engines make. Dirt bikes sound all high and whiny, like something got caught in the garbage disposal unit. Well-oiled machines, like the Harley-Davidsons my dad rides and customises, have almost a growling purr to them. It’s musical and primal all at once. It sends chills up your spine and sets your teeth and nerve endings to vibrate.

And then there’s the hard and fast variety, the Japanese models made for speed and not endurance, or so my dad says. He calls them pushbikes because that’s exactly what they sound like, a motorized pushbike.

This bike, though, this bike sounds like it’s on its last legs. It’s low and gravelly, and kind of sounds like a lawnmower on steroids. Which tells me one thing—the rider is more than likely not from around here, or my dad would have had that baby on a hoist the first time he’d laid eyes on it.

A black beat-up bike pulls up to the curb in front of Dad’s garage. The rider’s decked out head to toe in black: leather, jeans, boots and helmet. Of course, from across the street I can’t make out how good looking, or even how old he is, but the cut of his shoulders in his leather jacket kinda makes me a little melty.

He removes his helmet, runs a hand through his faux-hawk and my heart practically stops. I look at Holly, who turns, then looks back at me, “Oh my—”

“HOT!” I finish. We glide over to the window to get a better look at the newcomer. He can’t see us, of course. Well, he probably could, if he bothered to look over here, but he’s not. He has his face pressed to the glass of Big Bob’s Bikes and Auto. He walks to the roller door of the workshop and knocks hard, three times.

Holly runs her finger up and down the glass before her, as though she’s stroking his body through the window. “He’s way hotter than your cousin.”

“He is way hotter than my cousin.”

“And it wouldn’t be incestuous for you to sleep with him.” She presses her palm flat against the glass, and then smiles appreciatively at me.

Oh no. I know that look. Nothing good ever comes from that look.

“You should go over there.” Holly states as we watch him remove his jacket and get the full effect of his profile. The t-shirt he wears is fitting and black, and there are tattoos almost everywhere. Oh, sweet mother of god. I’ve never wanted to lick anyone’s bicep before, but even from across the street I can see how edible this guy is.

“What, are you crazy?” Heat claws at my cheeks because that’s exactly what I want to do; go over there and ride this guy’s bike. Sweet baby Jesus, even my thoughts need to be censored.

“Ana, you should totally go and talk to him.”

“I’m not going to talk to him.”

“He’s at your dad’s shop. What if it’s a life or death situation?” she screeches, and I swear it’s so loud that it causes hot decrepit-bike guy to stop looking at his watch and glance up at us. He shields his eyes and squints into the sun. His head cants to the side just a little when he finds us watching him. Holly, the traitor that she is, pulls the cloth from her apron and pretends as though she’s innocently cleaning the window. I, on the other hand, simply stare as he crosses the street towards us.

“Crap. Now he’s coming over.” I turn and head back to the counter. Holly just keeps wiping at the window with her cloth, but all she’s doing is smudging sticky caramel over the clean glass.

“You’re welcome.” She giggles like a hyena on crack.

“You’re cleaning that window properly before you leave.”

She lifts her fingers to her forehead in some kind of wacked out girl-scout salute. “Yes ma’am.”

The bell above the door jingles and I feel my spine stiffen. The smell of leather, motor oil and boy sweat fills our tiny shop and I start inhaling hard and fast. I’m kinda surprised I don’t hyperventilate.

“Hi, I’m Holly. Holly Harris, what can I get you?”

“Uh, hi.” I turn and see him withdrawing his hand from Holly’s too tight grasp. “The shop across the street, do you know the guy that owns it? I was supposed to meet him there earlier today, but I got held up in traffic.”

“Ana, would you like to field this one?” Holly asks, drawing me into their conversation and forcing hot decrepit-bike guy’s eyes to look me over. Is it my imagination that his hungry gaze glides over me from head to hip? Twice?

“He’s gone for the day. Friday night’s bonfire and booze night down by the river.”

“Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have stopped earlier.”

“Shop opens again at ten am.”

“Nah, that’ll be too late. Any idea where I could find this river?”

“Eight blocks down, second turn on your right, then you wanna follow the cane fields for another five kilometres, you’ll run right into it.”

Holly’s standing behind Hot Guy making lewd hand gestures and snapping her teeth at his bum like she wants to take a bite. I shoot her a warning glare and jerk my head in the direction of the kitchen several times, but it’s Holly, so of course she doesn’t take the hint, which leaves me looking like a stroke victim.

Hot Guy’s brows furrow. They’re killer brows, all tapered in the right places but rugged enough so you can tell they haven’t been trimmed or plucked. Dipping my eyes a little lower, I notice how long his lashes are, thick black lashes that any women would kill for, but the observations don’t stop there. His eyes are such a deep, dark chocolate that they’re almost black and I think I see the first hint of a dimple when he gives me a bemused smile.

Dimples, for crying out loud!

Like he wasn’t already perfect enough with his lashes and his leather and his freaking melty dark chocolate eyes!

He dares a look over his shoulder and Holly smiles innocently. I’m pointing back and forth between her and the kitchen like a crazy person and threatening murder with my eyes when he turns back around, and I have to pretend like I’m adjusting my ponytail in order to appear even halfway normal.

“You okay?” The smile is faint, but definitely there, and that brings me right back to the dimples again.

“Uh-huh.” I mutter. Holly shoots me a warning look, a look that says if I don’t get on with it she’ll make this a million times worse for me. Resisting the urge to jump on Holly and body slam her into the pastry display case, I hear myself saying, “I could show you if you like? The river. I mean. Not show you something else. That didn’t come out right. I meant—”

“What Ana’s trying to say here, is that her shift ends in exactly one hour and since I’ll be sticking around to watch the brat—” Holly inclines her head in Sam’s direction, who is watching our interaction like it’s his favourite episode of SpongeBob Square Pants “—she’d be delighted to take you down to the river and show you her bonfire.”

“Holly!” I chastise.

“You sure … uh, Ana, was it? I wouldn’t wanna put you out.”

“Ana loves putting out,” Holly chirrups.

She is having way too much fun with this.

“Holly!” I say again, much louder this time.

“What? He knows I’m kidding.” She turns to Ole’ Melty Eyes. “Right?”

He runs his hand through his hair. I can practically feel the freak out going on inside his head. Any more from Holly and this guy’s going to Kawasaki out of town, as fast as his wheels can take him. “Yeah, of course.”

I sigh and give both him and my self-esteem an out, “I could just draw you a map, if you like?”

“No. I want you to take me.” His brows knit together and the dimples pop out when he laughs at what he just said, but he doesn’t make any attempt to rectify it. In fact, the smile he gives me is downright cheeky and full of challenge. I smile back, thinking he has no idea what he just walked into.

He thrusts a hand out in front of me and says, “Elijah Cade.”

“Ana.” I take his proffered hand. It’s warm but not sweaty, calloused, and it engulfs mine completely.

“You got a last name, Ana?”

“Nope, just Ana.”

His eyebrow quirks and the smile he pairs with it is as smug as smiles come. “Well, just Ana, you and I will be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m gonna be working just across the street, and I’m gonna need a place to eat.” I know he’s provoking me, any idiot could see that, and yet the way his voice lowers and his dark eyes seem to hood over when he says the word “eat” makes me want to offer up myself as an all-night buffet.

I hear Holly gasp and I know I’m in trouble. Holly’s very rarely shocked by anything. I don’t know if it’s what Elijah said, or the way I’m so obviously drooling over him, but the fact that she’s gasping is so not good. I look away from Melty Eyes, but I’m afraid I’ll need a cold shower before I can calm down enough to keep my inner hussy at bay. “Really? I wasn’t even aware that Big Bob was looking for another mechanic.”

He looks surprised. Surprised and suddenly wary. “You know him?”

“You could say that.”

“Tell me then, what have I gotta do to impress him? I really need to hold down this job.”

“Okay, here’s the thing. Big Bob’s really big on pretty boys, so make sure you smile. Don’t wear a shirt while you’re working, and he’s partially deaf so you’ll need to talk REALLY LOUD!”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Afraid not. Mr Boss Man is a partially deaf, raving homosexual. Still want the job?”

Holly stares at me in horror from across the room and mouths, “What are you doing?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He is clearly uncomfortable. “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be stripping or anything.”

“Just your shirt. But something tells me you’re used to people staring at your bare chest anyway.”

His lips quirk into a slow smile and there’s a moment when I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing: Elijah without a shirt. Okay, well, I’m thinking of Elijah without a shirt and from the way he’s smirking at me, I’m pretty certain his mind is on missing articles of clothing too.

“Tell you what, Elijah Cade, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring you some pie on the house.”

“That’d be great.”

“Sweet or savoury?”

“Sweet,” he deadpans. “Definitely sweet.”

“Sweet it is.”

Shortly after Elijah sits down, Sammy sidles up beside him and they jump head first into a lengthy discussion about the bike Elijah rides. Sam’s quick to point out that his older model bike has nothing on a Fat Boy. He even folds his arms over his chest and frowns the way our dad would.

Holly pinches my arm while I’m preparing Elijah’s pie. I’ve really got to get a new best friend, one who’s against physical violence.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” she whispers.

“Just having a little fun, is all.”

“A little fun? Ana, there’s fun and then there’s suicidal. You just told him your dad was gay and enjoyed seeing his employees prance around half-naked. That might work here; he did knock up the evil bitch stepmum, after all, but at the garage? Bob’s going to annihilate this kid.”

“I know, but think how fun it will be to watch him walking around shirtless and yelling at my dad all summer.”

“You are a bad, bad girl, Ana Belle,” she whispers conspiratorially.

“So they keeping telling me,” I answer back, but even I hear how the smile has left my voice.

I set the pie down before Elijah and Sam’s eyes go saucer wide. “No way. You gave him a thlice of Ana Cabana thuprithe pie?”

“Yep. If you pack up your things I’ll get you a slice and a milkshake.”

“Can Elijah have a milkthake too?”

“If Elijah wants a milkshake?”

“Oh, Elijah wants a milkshake.” He smiles and the dimples come out swinging. I just wanna sit down and admire the holy mother of hotness that is decrepit-bike-riding, tattoo-sleeved, dimple-popping, Elijah Cade.

He’s staring at me expectantly. It’s obvious he’s spoken and, in all my fan-girling, I’ve completely missed it.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Vanilla. The milkshake. Can you make it vanilla? It’s my favourite.” He winks and shovels more pie into his mouth.

Without another word I stalk back to the kitchen. My heart is in my throat, trying as best it can to abandon this sinking ship. What the hell was I thinking, flirting with a guy like that? He’s going to be working for my dad, which means I’ll see him every day. And probably sooner rather than later he’ll figure out that I tricked him. He’ll more than likely hear the rumours about me. Maybe he already has, and that’s why he’s coming on so strong. Elijah Cade is the last thing I need.

I can hear him and Sam talking out in the diner. The milkshake machine stops whirring and the noise of Holly slamming down the metal cups on the table in front of the boys reaches my ears.

“There’s your vanilla milkshake,” she snaps. Her footsteps pound toward me.

“Uh, thanks,” Elijah calls after her.

“My mumth a huthy,” Sammy pipes up and I cringe and curse Holly under my breath.

Copyright

Copyright 2013 Dawn Robertson

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Content

Dawn Robertson
FINDING WILLOW

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

EPILOGUE

If you loved Finding Willow, you’ll love the prologue from Dawn’s next title:

About the Author

Want another great story? Check out this excerpt from WELCOME TO SUGARTOWN by Carmen Jenner!

Chapter One

Copyright