by Voss, Deja
I hold up a green corset, looking at myself in the full-length mirror and smiling.
“It’s hard to keep dark secrets up here on this mountain, Olive,” I remind her. “My business has been on blast my entire life. He doesn’t judge me for my past.”
“And you don’t judge him? Not even a little bit?” she asks, cringing. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve chewed my arm off more times than I like to admit. Is it hard seeing girls he’s slept with on a regular basis?”
“I think about it this way, Olive. We’re all looking for something in this life, but there’s this gap of time where we don’t know what that something is. We let ourselves get jaded, we think that whatever we’re looking for, whatever it is, we’re never going to find it or have it. So we just do stuff that makes us feel good. We do stuff to fill the void so that we can feel ok for a little bit, even if it means feeling terrible the next day. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life looking down at him because he was trying to hurt less. If he wanted to be with any of those girls right now, he would. He’s a good man. All these guys in the club are. They’re just really passionate. They know they want something, but they don’t know what it is. And all it really boils down to in the end is a good woman who’s going to love and respect and support them. It doesn’t matter who that is or what she’s done. As long as she’s a kind person with good intentions, the past is irrelevant.”
“God, you’re so smart,” she sighs.
“I am really kind of baffled that I’ve never seen you with anyone, Ollie. You are either really good at keeping your shit on the downlow, or you’re a secret nun. You know how much all these guys love you. What’s holding you back?”
“I dunno.” She shrugs. “I guess this is the first time in my life where I’ve felt like I have a family, a good job, people who care about me, and I care about, too. I feel like every day I’m one accidental drunk hand job in the janitor’s closet away from going back to my old life.”
“You know we’d never let that happen to you,” I assure her. “We love you too much. You deserve to be happy. There’s not much you can do around here that we’ll judge you for, take it from me,” I laugh. “I mean, let’s face it, we can sugarcoat it all we want, but I’ve been literally a whore for the last fifteen years of my life.”
“Nah,” she says, hugging me. “Don’t say that. Brooks has been bragging all month about how you handle business. The fact that you sold Morgan for guns is pretty much the highlight of all of our lives.”
“I didn’t sell her!” I insist. “I lent her out. The fact that the dipshit decided that she wanted to move in permanently with those weirdos is all her. But yeah. I guess it’s one less person I have to see on a daily basis that my man hooked up with. And that IS nice.”
“What do you think about renting this place out, Esther?” she asks. “I think I might be interested.”
“You’re gonna move up here on the mountain with us? I kind of love that idea. It’d be so awesome to have another girlfriend nearby.”
“I love this trailer. Other than the fact that there’s no blinds in your windows. Is that like a stylistic choice or is there something you’re not telling me?”
“A little bit of both,” I laugh.
Chapter 31
Brooks:
“Esther’s not answering her phone,” I say to Gavin, nervously pacing the campfire. The guys and I have the mash cooking, and by this time tomorrow, we should be able to run the moonshine and jar it up.
“Who cares?” He shrugs. “She’s probably sleeping. Leave her alone.”
I haven’t heard from her all day. No text, no nothing. I know she wants to let me have my time with my friends, and that’s just one of the million reasons why she’s so awesome, but I figured she’d at least check in at some point. I don’t like thinking about her all alone in that big house without anyone to look after her. We’re at least an hour away. Even if something did happen, there’s not much I can do.
“Hey, boys!” a husky voice calls from the darkness. She’s shining a flashlight out in front of her but I can tell by the smell of cheap perfume in the air that it’s Morgan, and she’s not alone. “We figured you could use some company.”
“What are you guys doing here?” Gavin asks, hardly thrilled by the fact that Morgan and a slew of dirty birdies are helping themselves to beers and getting comfy around the campfire.
“Hey, just because you’re whipped doesn’t mean the rest of us deserve to be punished.” Austin shrugs. “I invited them.”
“Whatever. I thought this was supposed to be a men-only work trip,” Gavin says.
“And the men did their work,” Austin laughs. “So unless you want to sit on my lap and whisper all the dirty things you’re going to do to me in my ear, relax.”
“As fun as that sounds, I’m going to bed,” I say. I’m on edge about Esther anyway, and I don’t feel like having to peel Morgan off of me for the rest of the night. I haven’t seen her since we left her at Salazar’s and I’m sure she thinks I owe her something.
“Right behind you, dude,” Gavin says. “You all have fun. 5 a.m. is going to be here real quick, though.”
“We brought supplies just in case!” Morgan smiles, waving a bag of white powder right under my nose. “We can moonshine for the next week straight if you want.”
“No thanks,” I say. Maybe ten years ago I’d be all about doing rails of coke off a slutty bartender’s ass, but that slutty bartender has shown her ass to everyone in the club since then. If I’m going to do drugs, it’s going to be with my old lady.
I unzip my tent and stretch out inside, hoping that tomorrow we can just get all our shit done quickly and I can get back where I belong.
Chapter 32
Esther:
What am I even doing here? I wonder, laying on top of the comforter of my bed in my old room. I didn’t feel like going back to our house, even though no one is home. I just wanted to be alone, in my own space, in the place where I’ve felt safe and secure and independent for the last fifteen years of my life. I’m frustrated from talking with my father, frustrated about all the half-truths littered in his lines of bullshit.
Brooks has called me at least five times. I don’t feel like dealing with him right now. I don’t want to be mad at him, but if there’s stuff he isn’t telling me, then I have every right to be. I sprawl out on my comforter in the little trailer and look out into the view in my yard. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel so sad. This lonely place that was my home for so long isn’t even where I belong anymore. I don’t know where I belong, but there’s only one person who can make me feel better. And I need to call him.
The phone rings a few times. He’s probably busy. It’s getting late, and I don’t want to interrupt his night with the guys. He needs that time as much as I need time to be alone.
“Hello?” a girl’s voice answers. “Is this Esther? Oh shit!” she squeals. I know exactly who it is, and it takes everything in me not to just hang the phone up right now and hop on my four-wheeler.
“Where’s Brooks?”
“He’s busy right now. Do you want me to leave him a message?” She giggles.
“I want you to put him on the fucking phone, Morgan. Quit being cute. I’ll deal with you later.”
I hear some shuffling; there’s loud laughter and music in the background. I can tell she’s covering the mouthpiece of the phone by the way everything seems so muffled.
“Here he is, Esther. Have a good night, sis!” she laughs.
“Gimme that fucking thing,” I hear him growl. “And get the hell out of my tent. Esther,” he pleads, “where have you been?”
“What the fuck, Brooks?” I mutter. “Why does Morgan have your phone?”
“I don’t know,” he says. I can tell by the hoarseness of his voice that he was sleeping. “I was sleeping. It must’ve fallen out of my pocket. I’m sorry.”
I jump up from the bed and begin pacing around the trailer, trying to no
t act crazy. I know how the boys are; there are always a flock of chicks hanging around. And I trust him. But I don’t trust her, and for whatever reason, she has my father thinking there’s something a little more to her and Brooks.
“Do you want me to come home now?” he asks. “They just showed up. Gavin and I went to sleep; you know how it goes.”
“No,” I say. I’ve been a part of this club for long enough to know that he’s telling the truth. I know these guys always have a flock of dirty birdies flapping around, and if he wanted to be with a girl like that, he would’ve done so a long time ago.
“I swear, I will. I’d rather be sleeping on top of you than on the ground in a tent.”
“Well that’s… flattering?” I laugh a little bit. “You stay there and get your work done. It’s fine; everything is fine. I’m sorry I missed your calls earlier.”
“It’s alright, Esther. But you know what might make me feel better?”
“What?”
“How about a little video chat, for old time’s sake?”
“Well, considering the only thing standing between you and half the people I know is a plastic tarp, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Oh come on. I’ll be quiet,” he pleads.
“Are you ever quiet?”
“Not with you, girl,” he laughs. “Alright. Well, if you decide that you want to send me some nudes, I won’t be mad. I promise I won’t show anyone.”
“Yeah, because I know how well you keep track of your stuff,” I tease him. “I love you. Gimme a call tomorrow.”
He sighs. “Hopefully we’ll be back tomorrow. I love you too. Goodnight.”
I feel a lot better after talking to him. It’s really easy for my dad to get me riled up, but the second I hear his voice, I’m good again. It’s not about my dad, or Morgan, or anyone else in the club. What Brooks and I have is our inside secret. It’s only the two of us in the world when it comes to matters of him and I. He’s not hiding any dark secrets. He wears his heart on his sleeve. At least with me. I get out of bed and turn out all the lights in the trailer. It’s time for me to go home. To my real home.
* * *
I love the way his house smells. Our house. It doesn’t smell like anything in particular but it sure does smell like him. Familiar, nostalgic, comforting. Sure my candle collection has girlied the place up a little, but walking through the front door feels like being pulled into his big strong arms. Walking through the front door, I know it’s the place I belong.
I wish he was here, but I’m lucky that he isn’t. I’m so lucky to have a man who understands the club and who will go out and work hard and do whatever it takes to keep us thriving. A man who will take care of me as well as his brothers. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in the world. Nobody gets this fucked up life like he does. Nobody would ever see me for anything but damaged goods. I feel so dumb letting my dad get in my head even for a second. Hell, Salazar probably got sick of Morgan and gave her back. She’s probably not coming around me because she’s embarrassed.
Our big king-sized bed is lonely without him. I slide under the covers and breathe into his pillowcase, the smell of his body wash, his sweat, him, all the things that turn me on about him. I hug his pillow to my body, pretending it’s him I’m spooned up next to, and I feel myself getting aroused, wishing he was here to fuck all my sorrows away.
I eye the box of lingerie Olive and I packed up and brought here in the corner of the room. Maybe I will send him some selfies, I think. I dig through the box and pull out a forest green corset with a matching thong. It has a big bow in the front like a Christmas present. I slide into it and admire the way it makes my pale skin look, the way my red freckles pop against the satin fabric. Brooks is so obsessed with my freckles, it’s adorable. We have spent many days in bed, his finger tracing every single one of them. I joke that if I ever need to go to a dermatologist I’m taking him with me because he knows each of them better than I do.
My big burly mountain man biker and his fixation with freckles.
I stand in front of the mirror and get out my phone, trying to find the most flattering angle. I know he loves my body, but I want these pictures to be perfect. I want him to spend the night in the woods thinking about no one but me.
I pop my chest out, taking a few different shots from different angles, giggling as I swipe through and pick out my favorite. Definitely the one where I’m tugging on the bow. Come unwrap me! I text him along with it.
I imagine him walking through the front door and tackling me to the bed, pinning me down like he’s done so many times before, taking me like he owns me, fucking me like it’s the last night we’ll spend together ever again. But it never is. I’m not going anywhere.
I slide back under the covers and set my phone on the nightstand. I turn out the lights and hug his pillow, thinking that tomorrow can’t get here soon enough, hoping my dreams are filled with visions of our future together.
Fifteen Years Ago
“Please,” I plead to the man with the gold teeth. “I need to see a doctor. I’m bleeding to death.”
“Shut up,” he barks, “You’re not bleeding to death. You’re having your fucking period. Which is why you’re locked in the basement. You’re no use to us like this. Now shut up and eat, or don’t. Starve to death for all I care.”
I know I’m not having my period, even though I’ve prayed every day that it would come. Every day since my father dropped me off here at the Tiger’s clubhouse. Begging doesn’t make them stop. Acting like I enjoy it doesn’t make it stop. And acting like I hate it… well, these guys are sick. They get off on it. It’s better that I just lay here and take it, take whatever they have to dish out and just pray that my dad gets here soon. That the guys in the club swoop in and save me. But if I’m down in the basement, they’re never going to find me.
I’m not having my period. I’m bleeding to death. Of this I am sure. I don’t want to eat this food, but I’m scared. I’m scared that if I don’t cooperate, this man, “Tiny”, won’t leave and I won’t be alone to plan my escape ever again.
Or my suicide. That would be the ultimate escape. My father promised me they just needed a few days to infiltrate the club, but even though I haven’t seen sunlight since I’ve gotten here, I know enough to know that it’s been longer than a few days. At first, I tried to count.
But counting things just makes me sad. Counting how many men have told me I was beautiful before raping me, how many men have told me I’m nothing but an ugly cunt before raping me, how many times I’ve been slapped around or locked in a dark room, or fed drugs that make me feel weird and keep me from being able to even put my hands up in front of my face to protect myself.
The only glimmer of hope I have is that my father is going to come busting through that door and save me at any minute. I hope it’s just him. I can’t imagine what any of the other guys would say if they saw me like this. I definitely don’t want Brooks to ever see me like this. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at him again. There’s no way he could love a girl like me. I’m messed up for good, I’m afraid.
“Can I at least have a cigarette?” I ask Tiny.
“I guess so,” he says, pulling a pack out of his pocket and handing me a few. “Have as many as you want.”
“Will you come sit with me?” I ask him. “I’m lonely.”
It’s only a half lie. I am lonely, but that’s not why I want him to come sit with me. I want him to come sit with me because I want him to see what he’s done to me. I want him to have to see every inch of my beaten and bruised body, I want him to have to look me in my blackened eyes. He eyes me up skeptically before sitting down on the cot, sagging beneath its weight. I hold a cigarette to my lips and he fishes a Zippo lighter out of the pocket of his cut, lighting it as my hands tremble.
Everything hurts, but right now I need to be tough. I breathe in the sweet tobacco and pretend like this is just a casual, normal conversation. My bleeding nak
ed teenage self and this man, pure evil, who bought me and plans on using me until I’m dead.
“I don’t know anything about you, Tiny. Just that you’re big and strong and you run a pretty dangerous crew. You guys are much tougher than us Misfits,” I say. “Much meaner. I admire that.”
His voice is loud and gravelly, and he lights up a cigarette, blowing the smoke right in my face.
“Compliments ain’t gonna get you far, girl. You should know that. You’re one of us now. It’s not my fault your daddy is a weak man who will sell out his family for a little bit of money.” I’m glad he still thinks that. I know that any day now, hell any minute now, he’ll find out why my father actually sold me out. So will I. I just have to be strong.
“Do you have any kids?” I ask him, tapping the cigarette ash onto the concrete floor.
“That’s none of your business,” he says.
“So you do.” I try to smile, but the muscles in my face are so sore, that all I can do is bare my teeth. “Do you have a daughter, like me?”
He stands up, towering over me. I’m certain in this condition, one blow to my head will probably kill me on the spot. My first instinct is to flinch, but I have nothing to lose. If he wants to end it all now for me, at least he will always see my face, brave and beaten in his mind, every time he looks at his daughter.
“I bet you’d never let this happen to her. You’d probably do whatever you can to keep her safe from men like you. I bet she’s really pretty. You’re a handsome man. Does she have your eyes?” I’m rambling, pulling things out of my ass, puffing down this cigarette between words like it’s going to be my last one ever. It might be. “Does she play with dolls? I have a really big collection. I’m sure if you call my dad he can bring them here for her. They don’t really serve any purpose for me now; it’d be a shame to see them go to waste.”