I hear your mom yell at you for getting into another fight. Her boyfriend has made an appearance in your life. I don’t think you like him, but you don't fight with him.
He has friends who ride motorcycles that often come over. They hang out in the front yard. They smoke their cigarettes and drink their beers. I watch as you stand in the shadows watching them.
The man who dates your mom brings you a motorcycle. It’s not as big or as fancy as his, but you get on it and he helps teach you to ride it. He’s over your house often now. You work on your bike together. You no longer ride the bus with me.
Fifteen years old
Boys are starting to notice me no matter how invisible I try to be. They all want to talk to me, but I only see you. You date and have girlfriends. I hate this, but I understand. After all, I am me. I sometimes feel your eyes on me but they never linger.
I’m walking home from school today. I stayed after to work in the computer lab. It’s a few mile walk, but it isn't bad. I work hard at school and you tease me from time to time. I know I’m a bookworm, but it’s my only outlet. It’s not that Mitchell and Claire are bad, it’s just they are not really there. They don’t talk to me. We exist. They fight with each other and I stay out of their way. I try to be as invisible as I can around them. I don’t want them to send me to a group home where I’ll no longer be able to see you.
Today, as I walk, a group of boys in a jeep pulls up alongside me. I cling my books to my chest. They holler things at me from their open jeep. They slow to almost a stop and a boy I recognize jumps out. “Charlotte, right?” he asks.
I don't say anything. I continue to walk.
“I’m Fitch,” he says and stands in front of me, so I can't continue to walk forward. I take a step to the side, but he sidesteps too.
I’m so focused on what is happening that I don’t hear you approach. I should’ve.
“Get the hell away from her,” you say, hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me back towards you. You’re bigger now. You look like a man. You have hair on your chin and your hazel eyes stand out against your dirty blonde hair. You’re dressed in black all the way down to your motorcycle boots. You’re bigger than the guys at school.
“Gunner. Isn’t it enough you’re fucking half the cheer-leading team. You gotta fuck this one too?” Fitch says.
I flinch and you notice. You probably think it’s because of his terse words. It’s not. It’s because he said you’re fucking so many women. I know your reputation. I hate it.
Your nostrils flare, I’ve seen that look before.
“Mouse, go to my bike.” I look at you, not wanting you to do anything drastic. The guys in the jeep jump out. There are three more of them. I look at the guys and then to you. “Mouse, now!”
I move to your bike. You’re quick to throw a punch and then another. They try to hit you, but you’re fast and they are weak.
One screams, “My nose.”
Another, “Let’s go.”
You stalk towards me. There’s a power about you that’s unmistakable. The look on your face is raw. Primal. “Get on!” you order, then take my books from me and throw them in a side bag.
I’ve never been on your bike, but I’ve never seen you with anyone else on it either. I get on. Your hands reach behind you and you pull my arms around your waist. “Hang on,” you tell me and the bike roars to life.
Adrenaline pumps through me as you go faster and faster. I don’t feel invisible. I feel like I’m part of the wind, part of the road. My sole purpose is to move, and I’m moving holding on to YOU. I feel alive in a way I’ve been missing.
You pull into your driveway and I’m disappointed with how quickly the ride is over. You help me down and then ask me to come in. I’ve never been in your house before. I’m nervous.
It’s simple in decor inside. It’s clean, but feels empty. There is a nice, newer couch and a large TV. There are no pictures on the walls. The warmth that I’ve imagined through the window isn’t here. Maybe it once was, but not anymore.
You take me by the hand and guide me to your room. I follow you without hesitation. Your room is simple. A nice dresser against a wall. A window with black curtains. A bed, large with black blankets. A large T.V. mounted across from that with a gaming system on the floor. You close the door after you. We’re close. You get closer.
“That shit happen to you a lot, Mouse?” you ask with anger in your voice. I don’t know why you’re mad, but your nose is still flaring. I look down and see your knuckles are split open.
You don't like when I look away from you, so as my eyes turn down, you grab my chin to make sure my eyes meet yours. “Answer me.”
“I guess so. Last week it was outside of the girl’s locker room. Different guy. It happens. It’s not a big deal. I don't talk to them, and they eventually go away.”
“It’s a big fucking deal, Mouse. Nobody gets to talk to you like that. No one.” I shrug because it’s not really a big deal. I wish they didn't see me, and I wonder if that’s why he’s mad.
“It’s a big fucking deal. You’re young and innocent and have already been dealt a shitty blow. You don't deal with any more blows. Not now. Not ever. One day Mouse, I swear to God, I’m taking you out of here.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest.
I look up at you and bat my lashes. It’s not intentional. You make me feel vulnerable. You’re making promises to me, and I want to believe you. I have a bravery that I only feel when I’m with you, so in an uncharacteristic move, I grab your hand.
“Why would it bother you if boys start to notice me?” I gulp wanting the answer and being afraid of it all at once.
“You want that, Mouse? Boys in your space? Their eyes on you? Their hands on you?” You step closer to me. I should shy away, but I don’t. I look you in the eyes, loving the amber, browns and greens.
“I don't want boys in my space.” My eyes say what my mouth doesn't. Only yours.
“Then yeah, it bothers me. You been looking at me with those fucking doe eyes for far too fucking long. Been waiting for you to be okay enough in your skin that when I touch you, you won't shrivel from me.”
“You’re the only person that makes me feel safe, Gunner.”
You stalk to me. It’s predatory. I think you do it on purpose to see if I’ll flinch. You cup my face and pull me close. That’s when my world shifts.
Lips brush against my own. Gently at first. You test me. I’ve never been kissed before, you know this. You give me soft kisses, parting my lips and letting your tongue skim along the seam. For the first time, I feel right in my own skin. I feel bolder than I ever have. I dart my tongue out meeting yours. It’s soft, fleshy, sweet, a hint of tobacco. My boldness spurs you on. You take my mouth fully, twining your tongue alongside mine, then nipping at my lip. You tug my hair back and I moan into the kiss. It’s intoxicating. Raw. Everything I never knew I wanted.
You push me up against the bed and you lay down next to me. You never break the kiss. We kiss for hours.
Sixteen years old
4 months later
You’ve been busy lately, but you always make time for me. You were kicked out of school, but you try to be around as much as possible. You wait outside the school gates and pick me up from time to time. This makes me happy. I love when you surprise me.
We ride and then stop to make out. You’re careful not to go too far. You’ve slipped your fingers inside of me and I’ve used my hands on you. I love the way you make me feel. When we’re together, I come alive, maybe that’s what it’s been like watching you; a glimpse at living.
The boys at school stay clear of me. I often wonder if you’ve scared them all away and I secretly am thrilled with the idea that you have.
Today is different. Today, you're in a mood when you pick me up and I notice blood on your knuckles. We drive for a while, on a trek I’m familiar with. You pull the bike up to an abandoned junkyard. We’ve been here before. You like finding things you can use
to build bikes. It’s something you’re good at. I tell you this and you shrug off my compliments, but I think you like that I love what you can build.
You hop off the bike and pace. I’m not sure what’s going on, but you seem like you need to collect yourself. I give you a minute, then another.
“Gunner?” I finally say.
You look at me. “Fuck, I got charges for assault. Hades says he’ll pull some strings if I join the club, or I’m facing time.”
Okay, I’m a bit confused at your reaction to this. “Assault? I ask looking at your hand. “Are you okay?”
You shake your hand and stretch out your fingers like you’re just now noticing they’re bloody. “This is nothing. I’m pissed because both of those options will mean less time with you.”
My gut sinks, and I get it.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be yours,” I reassure you. “So, what are you going to do?”
You shrug, “Not much choice. Joining Hades Runners, I guess.”
“I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.” I rub your back trying to calm your frayed nerves.
You pause and then mumble, “Thank fuck.” you come to me with such force. You slam your lips against mine and lift me up by my ass so that my legs move around your hips. You lean me against the hood of a car. We kiss, but it’s more than that. We are a frenzy of groping hands and labored breaths. I claw at your back wanting you as close to me as you can be. I hitch my leg up and you grind your hard length against me. It’s the first time I feel you and I don’t want to wait anymore. I want you inside of me.
“Gunner,” I whimper.
You search my eyes, understanding my plea,“You sure?”
I nod.
“Give me your words, Mouse.”
“Yes. Yes, Gunner. I want you.”
Your eyes darken, and then everything becomes more frantic. You whip my shirt over my head, and take my breast into your mouth. Your tongue swirls and then you nip. Already this feeling is new to me. My nipples harden in response and I arch into your touch.
Next, goes your shirt and my hands explore. You’re in complete control, guiding how you want everything to go. I’m glad since I have no experience. I want to please you, but deep down I wish you didn't have so much experience. I wish I was your first like you're mine, but I can't change that. I’m just glad that you’re taking me there.
You rid me of my pants and panties next, the white cotton discarded on the dirt ground. The metal beneath my back is warm, that added with the late sun beating on my face, makes a trickle of sweat run along my hairline.
You trail kisses along my hip bone and I run my fingers through your hair.
Down you go.
Further.
I’m exposed.
You’re mouth presses hard on my clit. It’s shocking but it feels good. I trust you. You slide your tongue up and down my slit and then you push a finger inside of me. Your tongue moves fast and your finger hooks deep inside of me. You stroke me. Then you suck me.
I’m withering, experiencing feelings I’ve never felt before. I thrash my hips back and forth. “Be still, Charlie. Relax.”
I see moisture dripping from your lip onto your chin. I’m fascinated by it. I want to memorize the way you look coated in my wetness.
You place your arm over my stomach holding me in place. Another flick of your tongue and I feel your finger curl inside and then I’m exploding. My hips are shaking and I’m having an orgasm like you’ve never given me before.
“It’s gonna hurt, Charlie. You know that, right?” I like hearing you call me Charlie as much as I like Mouse.
I nod giving you the okay because I want the pain. I want everything from you. The good, the bad. The pleasure, the pain. I want it all. You’re the only one that takes away the loneliness.
You kiss me and I taste me, but I taste you too.
“You don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of being inside of you. You’re the only good thing I have and I can't wait to sink into your slick pussy. You ready for me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what? Words, Charlie.”
“Want you inside of me. Take me.”
Your dick presses against me and then slowly you push inside. It hurts. I close my eyes and revel in the burn. You’re doing it to me, so I’ll cherish it. You go slowly until you're all the way seated. My eyes flash open in surprise. you're deep. So. Very. Deep. You stare in my eyes. You see me.
Every.
Single.
Part.
Of.
Me.
I want to be a good lover to you. I move my hips up and you still, making sure you have the go ahead.
“So fucking tight. Ain't nothing sweeter than this, baby. I’m gonna move more now. You good?”
“So good,” I say and commit to memory the look of bliss that covers your face. It’s a look I’ll never forget. You look at me with so much feeling in your eyes.
You rock forward and out again. I’m hanging on to you and moving my hips in time with yours. It hurts, but it doesn't matter. It’s you and it’s right. You back up so you’re not completely on top of me, and then you’re out of me.
You stand and I watch as your cock glistens. You pull my feet so I’m at the edge of the car and then you push into me again. My tits that feel so full and heavy bounce with each thrust. It’s a different sting, but it doesn’t hurt the same way. You move fast and your eyes burn with lust.
“So fucking sexy. Grab your titties.”
I do as you say and grab my breasts. It feels good.
“Good. Now, use your fingers and roll your nipples.”
I do that too and it makes me quiver tight in my pussy.
“Fuck, I want to go deeper. Can you take more?”
“Everything. Give me it all,” I pant.
You grab my ankles lifting my legs high on your shoulders. You lean forward, nearly bending me in half and you slam hard. You hit so deep, I scream. Your hair falls in your eyes and you lean my head close to my legs. You pump in and out of my body and my eyes start to roll in the back of my head.
“Gunner,” I cry out, experiencing all of you and all of the ways your body can fill mine. Pleasure ripples through me. “Oh, God! I think I’m going to come again.”
“Don’t fight it. I can’t wait to feel your tight little cunt clench around me.”
I couldn't fight it if I tried. You push and pull back and push and pull back and then I’m clenching all around you.
“Fuck,” you roar and slam down on me again and again. Then, your thrusts change. You slam down hard once, then pause. Twice, pause and again, until you groan loudly. Your eyes are fierce and your face is beautiful. I’ve never seen you look so happy. I’ve never seen you so pleased. I’m happy. I gave that to you and you gave me so much more in return. You kiss me and kiss me again and again until you slowly pull out of me. I feel the loss, but I’m not alone because you cradle me in your arms and whisper promises about a future. I tell you I’m yours and I want more from you. I want this again. Today and tomorrow.
“I promise, Mouse. I’ll give you the world.”
I look at you like you hung the moon, because in my world, you do. You’re it for me, and have been since I was eight years old.
Part Two
Chapter One Charlie
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I hadn't seen Gunner for a week. He hadn't been home. He hadn't picked me up from school. We slept together and then poof; nothing. I had seen bikes at his place when we returned that day. I watched through my window as Gunner looked back at my house a few times, and then he was gone.
I felt horrible. I didn’t know where he was or how to reach him. I missed him and it was like all of the loneliness that I had before was only intensified. Once you know what it feels like to be loved, it only hurts more when it’s gone.
A month passed and then another. His mom hadn't been to his house either and a fearful part of me wondered if I’d ever see him again.
/> I threw up today in Home Economics. The smell of grated cheese made me immediately sick. I couldn't even make it to the bathroom. I was grateful there was a sink nearby, but nonetheless, I felt horrible.
Everything seemed to be making me sick lately. I was sent to the nurse's office, where they called Mitchell to come and get me. He didn’t answer, so they called Claire. I’d rather deal with Mitchell than Claire. She dragged her hungover ass into the school and gave me a death glare when she saw me laying down in the office. I watched her stumble a bit when she signed me out, I wondered if anyone else would pick up on the fact that she was probably still drunk.
I got into the car with her, cringing at the overwhelming smell of smoke. Her blonde hair was brittle and her skin looked older than she actually was. “You gonna get sick again?” Her voice was raspy from years of smoking making her sound a lot like Marge Simpson’s sister.
“No, it was the strangest thing. One minute I felt fine, and the next minute, I felt so nauseous. But I’m feeling much better.”
“Fuck, you ‘ain't pregnant, is you?” she spoke in broken English and it made her seem all the more ignorant to me.
My eyes bulged and I feared that it was a real possibility. “Nnn...o,” I stuttered.
Claire looked at me as we pulled into the driveway. I must have looked guilty. How could I be pregnant? It was only the one time, and I didn't think you could get pregnant on your first time. That’s what I overheard Misty Wellington telling Izzy in the bathroom anyways, but what if they were wrong? I felt like the world was spinning around me.
“You dumb little shit. You got yourself knocked up, didn't you? Go to your room.”
I got out of the car and did like she said. I was shocked, but deep down I thought that she was right. It fit with everything I’d ever heard about being pregnant. Holy shit. I was sixteen and pregnant. I just became a reality show on MTV.
I stared out the window through the dirt stained glass and wished Gunner was there. I wondered why he left me and what I was going to do. All of his promises seemed broken. I needed him and he was gone. I berated myself for needing him. It wasn't his fault, it was mine. I should’ve known that I’d be alone again. I should’ve expected it.
Cut Wide Open (A Bleeding Scars MC Book 1) Page 2