by Carol Dawn
And, that scares me.
I love my daddy. He’s a good man. But his mind is so corrupted by his beliefs that I’m not sure what he’s capable of.
Growing up, I went to regular schools and did things regular kids did. When I was about thirteen years old my parents` belief turned from an open religious community to a secluded one.
I just hope that my dad can understand why I had to leave. Why I couldn’t marry Jack. And, why I have absolutely no intention of ever returning there and raising my daughter under his belief.
I can only hope.
“She’s asleep,” Blake says as I feel the couch dip beside me.
“We need to talk,” I say. I hate what I have to say but he needs to know everything, and I need to know why he’s helping us.
“We do,” he agrees. “But, me first.”
I feel him leave the couch and kneel between my knees, grabbing both hands. I love how he always makes me feel like I’m still part of the world. Because in this black void that I’m freefalling in, I feel very detached and alone.
And scared.
I can’t see where he’s at, but he always has his hand on some part of my body tethering me to a world I once knew while I’m shrouded in this darkness that’s trying to consume me.
“I’m right here.”
He says that to me all the time. Usually, a whisper in my ear while I’m fighting the demons in my nightmares only to wake up in the exact same darkness surrounded by the exact same demons. I can’t escape them. The shadows in the dark never go away here. No matter how tightly I close my eyes.
But then he whispers those words. The words only meant for me and it vanishes all my doubts and fears. If only for a little while.
“I know you’re scared, Arabella,” Blake says. “I know you’re confused and frustrated. It’s okay to be those things. It’s okay to feel anything you want to feel. Especially when you’re with me. Don’t ever be afraid to feel.”
“I am scared,” I tell him. “And frustrated and so very confused. I feel angry and sad and lonely.”
“I’m right here. You don’t have to feel lonely.”
“I know that,” I say, feeling frustrated. “I can feel you kneeling in front of me. I know you’re in this room. But I can’t see you. And, because I can’t see you, my mind is convinced that it’s a lie. The darkness that surrounds me is thick. So thick that I have a hard time breathing.”
Blake moves closer and wraps me in his arms. Closing my eyes, I pretend that I’m normal. I pretend the darkness is just a blanket over my eyes. I pretend the pain in my head is just because I bumped it on the car door. I pretend that I’m in the arms of my lover, my protector, my best friend. Just for this moment, I pretend.
But it ends. I pull back and look up to where I think his face might be.
“My turn,” I say.
“I wasn’t finished.”
I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, by all means, continue,” I say, sweetly.
“I just want you to know that you’re welcome here for as long as you like. My feelings for you grow stronger with each passing second, but I know that you aren’t ready for me yet. So, I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you are ready. And, in the meantime, I’ll always be right here.”
“Damn tears,” I choke out. “It’s not like it’s clouding my vision or anything, but still.”
“Did you just throw a blind joke at yourself?” Blake asks.
“I stole it from Ink,” I laugh. “He’s constantly telling me blind jokes. That one just stuck.”
“That fucker is nuts. He knows where to draw the line but I’m not sure he knows how to.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” I admit. “Honest. Everyone is always tiptoeing around me. Even the nurses and doctors. I like how he just goes for it. It makes me feel like I still have a little bit of normal left. I only feel like that when you’re around, and when Ink starts throwing out those jokes. Some of them are so bad.”
I laugh to myself thinking about some of those horrible joke. They are so cheesy and so bad that you can’t help but laugh at them.
“Want to hear one?” I ask Blake.
“Sure, baby,” he says with a chuckle.
“Okay, how do you find a blind man in a nudist colony?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not hard,” I give the punchline.
It takes him a couple of seconds to get it before he bursts out laughing.
“Oh god,” he says through his laugh. “That was horrible.”
“Yeah, but wasn’t it great? Okay, one more. Why don’t the blind go to hell?”
“You got me,” he says.
“Because the devil is afraid they’ll step on his tail,” I say with a grin.
“Alright, I admit it,” Blake says. “Ink is pretty awesome when it comes to making you smile.”
A few minutes pass with neither of us speaking. Blake rises from his spot in front of me and sits to my left. He pulls me until my back is leaning against his body. It’s not the most uncomfortable position but… Who am I kidding, it’s the greatest seat in the world.
“Your turn, baby.”
“Are you sure? It’s not the best story,” I tell him.
“I’m here for you,” is all he says.
Alright, here it goes. Will he shun me when I’m finished? Will he hate Sophia because of how she was created?
“My parents are not your typical parents,” I begin. “They aren’t bad people. At least, I don’t think they are. My father is the leader of a religious cult called, The Relief.”
“A cult? Why is it called, The Relief?” He asks.
“It used to be an open religious community where people would come to focus on God. Where they could let go of the world for a while. A place to relax. A place to release any anxiety the world causes.”
“Why did it change from an open community to a cult?”
“Shortly after my father became the leader, he decided he didn’t like the constant stream of people,” I say. “He called them riffraff. He wanted a stronger foundation with more loyal members, so he closed the open-door policy. He doesn’t really call it a cult, but that’s what it is.”
He’s silent for a moment. I haven’t even told him the worst part yet and it feels like he’s already freaked out.
“Did you grow up there?” He finally asks.
“Kind of,” I answer. “My parents actually didn’t find The Relief until I was almost thirteen years old. So, I spent those first years in a normal home. Not much changed at first. My bedtime changed to an hour earlier, and I wasn’t allowed to go to birthday parties unless mom or dad went with me. I had to read a small passage from my Bible every night before bed. Just small things like that. Then, when I turned sixteen my dad was chosen to be the next leader. We moved into a home inside the community. Dad took over and changed the policy. That’s when my life changed. I wasn’t a prisoner or anything. I could do what I wanted as long as I followed the rules. I was never mistreated. I was happy.”
I take a deep breath.
“Then, something horrible happened and the result of that action wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Blake doesn’t say anything but tightens the arm that he has draped over my shoulder.
“One evening, I was taking a walk. There was no particular reason for it. I guess I just wanted some fresh air.”
I’m rambling. Avoiding. Come on, Bella. Just say the words.
“It was getting dark and I had to get home. I was passing an old closed down shoe store when I heard someone say my name. So, I stopped, turned around, and there stood a man. He was standing in the middle of the empty parking lot with his hands in his pockets.”
I can feel Blake's body tense up. Does he know what I’m about to say?
“My mind told me to turn around and go home. But he knew my name and asked if he could walk me home because it wasn’t safe. Everyone there knows who I am, who my father is. So, I said yes.”
> It’s not as hard talking about all of this as I thought it would be. Maybe it’s because I’m blind and can’t see his reactions. It might be a good thing for this next part.
“Only, he didn’t take me home. He told me to walk with him to his car at the back of the parking lot. When we got there, he…”
“Stop,” Blake growls. “Just give me a second.”
“I can stop,” I tell him. “I just wanted you to know my story. To really know me so that you can decide if letting us stay with you is the best option.”
“No matter what you say,” he whispers. “You both are always welcome.”
A few minutes pass before he says, “Okay, let me hear the rest.”
“Uhm, he uh,” I stumble with the words. “He violated me.”
I barely whisper the words, but I can tell he heard me.
“That was almost ten months ago,” I finish.
I wait to see if he catches what I can’t seem to say. It was Jack. Sophia isn’t made from love. Will he think she’s a monster like her father?
“Sophia,” he says with a voice much deeper than I’m used to.
“Yes,” is all I say.
“That fucker is dead,” he mumbles. “Why was he with you in the hospital? You told me that your friend was sneaking you out after Jack left.”
“I told my father what happened. Turns out that Jack and my dad are buddies. I was living with my parents waiting for daddy to choose my husband.”
“Choose your husband?” Blake interrupts.
“Yes. I didn’t like the idea, but I wanted to make my dad happy. Anyway, when I told him what happened he called Jack and told him to come over. I can’t remember much, but I guess I was supposed to marry Jack soon and my dad was upset that he did what he did before we were married.”
“He was upset that he raped you before he married you?”
No longer comfortable, I stand up and very slowly make my way over to where I remember a window being. I only stumble once.
“My dad said that I had to give birth to the baby, have her DNA tested to make sure Jack was the father. If he was then I had to marry him. If he wasn’t, then I had to marry whoever was.”
“What the fuck?”
“The morning Sophia was born,” I say, ignoring his outburst. “I woke up with some back pain. My parents took me to the hospital, and they said that I’ll probably have the baby in the next twenty-four hours. Jack walked in at that exact moment and said that it needed to happen sooner. So, he and my father decided that a cesarean section would be best.”
“I thought you said your father is a good man?” Blake asks.
“He is,” I say. “I just think power has gotten to his head. I think he believes things happen in his mind that aren’t really true. It’s changed him as a person, but he’s always been a good father.”
“Baby, your father may have been a good father at one time, but he isn’t anymore.”
I don’t respond to his statement. I understand where he’s coming from, but I’m not yet ready to acknowledge the fact that my dad is not a good man.
“Where does your friend come in?” He asks with a much-needed change of subject.
“Noah and I have been friends since Kindergarten,” I say. “He’s always been someone I could talk to about anything. So, I told him what was happening. He tried for months to get me to leave. When Sophia was born and I got my first look at her, everything changed. I couldn’t raise her there. Under my father’s belief. With Jack. I knew right then that I would do whatever I could to give her the best possible future. I told Noah and he made the plans to get me away. You know the rest.”
Blake is silent.
“I don’t want Sophia to know that she’s the product of rape. I don’t want her to ever feel like she’s anything less than everything to me. I want her to know nothing but love for all of her life.”
Arms wrap around me from behind.
“She will be more loved than a little girl can handle,” Blake says. “I’ll make sure of it. You’ll make sure of it. And, all of her bigger than mountain uncles, and crazy ass aunts, Rose will make sure of it.”
“You confuse me,” I admit through my tears.
“It’s okay to be confused,” he says. “I’m right here to help you through it.”
He holds me as we’re standing next to the window. I imagine the ground littered with snow. The moonlight bouncing off the white ground in a halo of perfection. I imagine snowball fights, and sleigh rides and Christmas mornings. I imagine a future that I’m trying to grab ahold of but am too afraid to hold tight to.
“Baby,” Blake says.
“Yeah,” I answer. I love when he calls me baby.
“Why are we staring at the wall?”
“What?” I practically shout. “I thought we were looking out the window?”
With a chuckle, he says, “You are way off. The window is about twelve steps in that direction.”
He grabs my shoulders and gently turns me completely around. I can’t hold it back. I bend over and bust out laughing.
“Oh goodness,” I say when I finally calm down. “I am not good at being blind.”
Just then, Blake’s phone rings.
“Yea,” he says.
Whoever is on the other line is very angry. So angry that he’s yelling loud enough for me to hear him clearly.
“Get to the clubhouse now! We have a huge fucking problem.”
“Give me a few and we’ll be on our way.”
“The clubhouse?” I ask when I hear him disconnect the call.
“Welcome to the biker life, babe. I’m going to shove your purse in Sophia’s bag. I’m not sure how long we’re going to be there so we’re going to take your meds. I have a room there if you get tired and want to sleep.”
I nod my head. I won’t say it, but secretly I’m glad he’s not leaving us behind. I’m not ready to take care of Sophia on my own. I don’t mind going, though. I’ve met Rose a couple of times and I loved talking with her. And all of Blake’s brothers are amazing.
Biker life, huh?
That’s a far cry from what I’m used to.
I wonder what kind of problem they have that could make whoever called so angry?
Chapter Eleven
Chains
Night has fallen and the melted snow is starting to freeze over. I offered to carry Arabella to the truck, but she flat out refused and stubbornly walked herself using my arm as a guide.
We arrive at the clubhouse thirty minutes later. I drove as slow as I could without it being weird. I have two very precious and important lives in my truck. No way am I chancing an accident.
I cover Sophia’s car seat with her blanket before removing her from the car. Then I go to Arabella’s door and open it.
“I know what you’re going to say, but I’m going to ask it anyway. Do you want me to carry you inside? The ground is frozen and slippery.”
“No, thank you,” she says with a small smile. “If you don’t mind helping me again, I would like to walk myself.”
“Stubborn woman,” I mutter.
“Not stubborn. I just want to learn how to live in my new existence. There’s no telling how long I’ll be blind, or if I’ll ever get any vision back at all. Might as well start learning now.”
I know she’s right, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to throw her over my shoulder and do all the work for her.
“At least let me help you down,” I say.
“Oh, alright.”
I help her out of the truck and tuck her hand into the crook of my arm.
“Sophia’s a heavy sleeper,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I guess so,” she says as we start making our way to the clubhouse. “You’ve actually known her longer than me.”
“Technically, yeah,” I say. “but you’ll always know her on a deeper level than anyone else.”
“Mmm,” she mumbles.
“Do you think of her differently now?” She asks. “Since you know how
she was conceived.”
“Never,” I answer truthfully. “Not a glimpse of anything but perfection. Just like her mommy.”
“Whatever you say, Blake.” She says. “What does the clubhouse look like? Because I’m picturing this giant wooden shack up in a tree somewhere.”
“Nice change of subject,” I say. Which causes her to giggle. “And, your imagination is interesting, but I guess I can understand why that’s what you see when you hear the word, clubhouse. No, it’s not in a tree. We used to have this old barn type of building before some fucker burned it down, though.”
“Oh no! Is everyone okay?”
“No,” I say, thinking of Princess. “No one got seriously hurt in the fire, but we did lose a member of our family that night.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says as we slowly move toward the door.
“Yeah, me too.” I stay silent for a moment trying to push back the horrible memories of that day.
“This one is made of refractory materials,” I finally say as I open the door and lead us inside. “It’s heat resistant. We aren’t taking any chances. The outside of the building reminds me of a car wash. It’s long and white but doesn’t seem very wide. It’s also two stories tall. The inside is much different.”
We walk inside the room where everyone is waiting.
“What’s this room look like?” Arabella asks.
“Well, when we sat down to design this building, we wanted the same type of setting for the inside as we had for our last one.”
“But there was no way I was going to let that happen,” Rose interrupts as she walks over to us.
“Why not?” Arabella asks her.
“It felt like a waiting room in a doctor’s office,” Rose says. “Not that I knew at the time what that actually felt like, but you know…movies. There were a couple of couches and some tables to eat at, but it wasn’t a very comfortable place to sit and rest. Of course, I only saw it a few times. But, trust me, Bella, this is much better. There are couches, and lounge chairs, a bar.”
“We weren’t giving up our bar,” Brick says from behind Rose.
“They fought tooth and nail for it,” Rose says with a laugh. “This room has a much homier feel. We have pictures hanging on the walls, rugs and a fireplace.”