With one last look at Daisy, I follow the woman from Anders’ office. She glances at me over her shoulder and offers me a reassuring smile. “That’s a hell of a shiner, baby girl. Let’s go get you checked over.”
We walk straight back to Daisy’s room and pulling out a key she opens the door and motions for me to go in first. I don’t know what to make of her; at first glance she looks angry and kind of mean. I’m not sure how old she is, definitely in her forties but maybe older. Her hair is midnight black and pulled back into a severe high ponytail on top of her head. Her makeup is beautifully applied, and her skin looks youthful and flawless, but her eyes betray her age. She’s wearing a tight black tank that says ‘Beavers’ in bold white print with a silhouette of a women hanging from a pole beneath. Her arms are slim and toned and one is covered in tattoos from her wrist right up to her shoulder. She’s wearing leather pants and sky high black pointy stilettoes. She’s beautiful but terrifying at the same time.
Walking past her, I stand in front of the bed and fidget. I don’t know what to do, or what to say, so I just stare at her uncertainly.
She smiles at me again and holds out her hand. “I know Anders sort of introduced me but let’s do it properly. My name is Eve, but everyone calls me Grits. Anders is my old man.”
I take her hand and shake it. “I’m Angelique, it’s nice to meet you.”
Grits smiles ruefully and reaches out to cup my cheek. I try not to flinch, but it happens anyway. She pauses at my reaction then slowly and carefully touches her warm fingers to my face. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Angelique.”
Dropping my eyes to the floor I nod, embarrassed that anyone has to see the damage my father did to me. “It is what it is.”
Firm fingers lift my chin and the anger on her face surprises me. “No, Angelique, it isn’t. What he did to you isn’t okay. A man should never raise his fist to a woman, ever. You don’t accept it and you don’t grin and bear it—ever. You’re a beautiful young woman and you should never have been treated like this. Do you understand me? I’m sorry that your father did this to you. It isn’t your fault. But from this day onwards you don’t accept this kind of shit from anyone, okay? Tell me you understand, Angelique.”
My chest is rising and falling so rapidly that I’m struggling to get enough air into my lungs. There’s a huge lump in my throat and I’m trembling so hard that my legs feel like they’re going to give way. This is the first time in my entire life that anyone has told me what my father does to me is not okay. I’ve always known it was wrong, but my mother has spent years making excuses for him and telling me it was our own fault.
I look straight into Grits’ eyes and I can see my pain reflected back in hers. She doesn’t have to tell me that she knows exactly what I’m feeling, because in this moment I know that she does. I nod. “I know that it’s not okay. I’ve always known that, but I had no idea how much I needed someone to tell me. Thank you.”
Pulling me into her arms she hugs me tightly. “You’re gonna be okay. But if you need anything, you tell Daisy or Anders to come get me. I mean it, Angelique. The other girls will tell you I’m a mean old bitch and they’d be right, but that’s because I’ve got no time for club whores. I have a feeling you and I are gonna be friends. I know this is scary as hell for you, but you’re not alone anymore.”
Tears pool in my eyes but I blink them back. I don’t want to cry in front of this woman. She’s so strong and self-assured and I want to be like her. She doesn’t strike me as the type who would cry often so I pull in a deep fortifying breath and smile. “Thank you. I’d really like to be your friend.”
Grits smiles back and then takes my hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go take a look at your legs. How bad are they? You been taking care of the wounds?”
I follow her into the bathroom. “My mama cleaned them up and put antiseptic lotion on them, they’re not too bad.”
“Your mom knows what he does to you?” she asks, surprised.
I nod.
Grits closes her eyes for a second and her lips twist into an angry grimace. When she opens them again her face is full of sympathy. “Come on then, Angelique. You okay to show me? I know it’s creepy as fuck to get practically naked with a stranger, but I spend all day with strippers. You haven’t got anything I’ve not seen a hundred times already this week.
She barks out a laugh and I laugh too. She’s right, this is creepy, but Grits has been nothing but sweet and caring so I undo the drawstring on Daisy’s sweatpants and let them fall to the floor. I can’t watch as Grits inspects the raw skin, cuts, and welts. I’m going to lose hold of the fragile strings that are keeping me together if I see any more sympathy in her face right now. She gasps as she lifts the hem of the shirt I’m wearing and sees the new wounds and the older scars that cover the skin from my thighs to the base of my spine.
I hold my breath as she assesses the damage, then I feel her lift the sweats back up and I tie the drawstring tight again. When I turn to face her, she’s discreetly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, but it’s anger, not pity, I see in her expression. “That’s never gonna happen to you again. I promise you that. If the club doesn’t sort this for you, I’ll help you run. On my life I will never allow you to be hurt like that ever again.”
I don’t know what to say, so I stay silent. Grits audibly exhales and then she forces her face into a half smile. “Angelique is a real pretty name, but it’s a bit of a mouthful. Do you shorten it? Maybe Angie or something?”
She opens the bathroom door and I follow her out of the room. Flopping down onto Daisy’s bed she pats the cover, so I climb onto the mattress and sit cross-legged next to her. “Honestly, I’ve always hated my name. Daisy calls me Angel, but it’s never been shortened before.”
Grits smiles widely. “Angel, huh? I’ve never seen that boy behave like he does with you before. He’s always been a cocky little bastard with the girls but he’s different with you. How long have you known each other?”
I shake my head shyly. “Only a few days.”
“Huh,” Grits says with a smirk.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothin’, sweetie. How bout I just call you Dove like Anders did? It’s probably better if no-one here knows your real name anyway, and I doubt Daisy would be happy with everyone calling you Angel.”
I nod. “Dove’s fine, but I’m sure Daisy wouldn’t care. We’ve only known each other for a handful of days. I never planned to drag you all into my mess, but when I missed the bus I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Grits laughs. “I can guarantee that he’d care, Dove. I don’t know what you’re caught up in, except that you’re running from something, and I don’t need to know unless you want to tell me. But I can guarantee that if Anders didn’t want to help, he wouldn’t. If he didn’t see something in you worth helping, he’d have had your pretty little ass out of the club and on the sidewalk in the blink of an eye.”
Ashamed, I let my eyes fall on my fingers in my lap. “My life is such a mess.”
Grits reaches over and squeezes my knee. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here if you need to talk about it.”
Lifting my head, I nod. “Thank you.”
Grits smiles, then tilts her head to the side. “How old are you, Dove? You look about fifteen, but I figure Anders wouldn’t have you here unless you were at least legal.”
“I’m eighteen.”
“Hell, eighteen. You’re still a baby. You gonna be okay staying here with Daisy? If you want, you can come stay with me and Anders. It won’t be as easy to keep you hidden at ours, but we can make it work if you’d feel more comfortable.”
“No!” I shout. The vehemence in my voice shocks me, but I don’t want to leave Daisy. He frightened me earlier, but he’s been so sweet with me and he said he liked me and I like him. “No, I’m fine here with Daisy. Plus, like Anders said this is the last place my father would ever think to look for me, and I’m only going to be here for a few days and then I’m leaving town.”
Grits smile is so big it’s practically splitting her face in two. She opens her mouth to speak when the door opens and Daisy walks in.
My mouth goes instantly dry. His naked, chiseled chest is perfection. Tan skin stretches over toned muscles and defined abs. Tattoos cover one side of his pectoral muscle and flow over his shoulder and down his whole arm ending at his knuckles. I stare at him, unable to tear my eyes away. His tattoo is a colorful bouquet of flowers: poppies, peonies, daisies, and roses, cascading through an angry black skull. The contrast between the beautiful flowers and the gruesome skull is harsh but stunning and I try to examine the artwork from my seat on the bed. Had he been shirtless this whole time? How had I not noticed?
Grits clears her throat and I snap back to attention and turn to look at her. A knowing smirk is etched on her face. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dove. I’ll bring you some clothes, cause I’m guessing yours aren’t gonna blend in real well. Remember what I said, you need me, just tell Daisy or Anders and I’m here. Okay?”
“Thank you,” I say earnestly.
She smiles and squeezes my cheek before dropping her hand and walking up toDaisy. “You look after my Little Dove. She’s special and you treat her that way, okay?”
Daisy nods. “I will.”
Grits smiles then leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Daisy turns the lock and walks toward me, sinking to his knees in front of me. “You okay, Angel? You did real well with Prez.”
“I’m fine. Look, I just want to say thank you and I’m sorry. I didn’t come here thinking you would get involved with my problems; I just didn’t know where else to go. I still feel like I should be running, but Anders is right, this is the last place my father would ever think to look for me. I promise in a few days time I’ll leave and take all my drama with me.”
Daisy’s face hardens for a minute but then his expression clears and he offers me a small smile. Reaching for my hand he entwines his fingers with mine. “Come on, Angel, it’s late. You need to get some sleep. Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you some meds or anything?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I am tired though,” I say, as a yawn escapes me.
Daisy smiles and standing he lifts me into his arms and places me at the top of the bed. Pulling the covers over me he leans down and places a kiss on the corner of my mouth. His lips are soft and warm and when they touch me I want more. He pulls away and our gazes lock. I watch his pupils dilate and my heart beats harder in response. I lift up at the same time that he leans forward and our lips meet in the middle.
The kiss is slow and sweet. His lips are a drug and I close my eyes and fall into the sensation. His strong arms are braced on either side of me and I cling to him, desperately enjoying every moment of his lips on mine.
The kiss ends too soon, and he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. Breathless, I stare into his eyes, hoping he’ll kiss me again.
“Sweet dreams, my Angel,” he whispers and pulls away from me.
I let my head fall back against the pillow and watch as he rummages in the closet. Pulling out a pillow and a handful of blankets he makes a pallet on the floor next to the bed and then slips off his shoes. He watches me, watch him undress, with a shadow of a smirk flickering across his beautiful lips.
He lies down on his makeshift bed and I roll to my side, so we lie facing each other. I fall asleep staring at him as he stares at me.
I wake up still facing him. Stretching my legs under the covers, I gasp as burning pain pulses through my skin.
“What’s the matter, Angel?” Daisy says immediately, jumping from the floor and hovering over me, his face full of concern.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine. My legs just sting after not moving all night.”
“Do you need to see a doctor? Do you want pain meds? Tell me what I can do, Angel.”
I carefully sit up, reach for his hand and squeeze it gently. “I’m fine, I promise.”
He nods but looks dubious. “Do you want to eat breakfast in here or out in the clubhouse with everyone else? It might be best to let everyone see you and then they’ll forget you’re here. The longer you stay hidden, the more curious they’ll be.”
I fumble with the fabric of the t-shirt I’m wearing trying to decide if I’m ready to face the rest of the bikers and whoever else is still here this morning.
“It’s okay, baby, we can just stay in here,” Daisy says.
I force my fingers to still and then look up at him. “No, you’re right. It’ll be better to go eat with everyone else. Grits said I needed different clothes, but I only have a couple of my dresses from home with me.”
Grabbing his cell from the dresser he quickly dials someone. “Hi, yeah, it’s Daisy. You mentioned sorting a few clothes for Angel. Yeah, okay. See you in a few. Bye.”
I listen to the one-sided conversation and wait. Daisy ends the call and then smiles triumphantly. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. Grits will be here in ten with some clothes for you. I don’t know what you said to her last night—she’s normally mean as a snake—but she sure seems to like you.”
I smile. “She was really nice. I like her a lot.”
Daisy grins and shakes his head in amusement. “Fucking hell, baby, you cracked Grits. I don’t think that’s ever happened before.” Chuckling to himself he crosses the room and disappears into the bathroom.
Sitting up in bed I stare at the half-closed bathroom door. I hear the shower start, quickly followed by Daisy’s awful, off-key singing and I have to cover my mouth with my hand to muffle the sound of my laughter. The shower stops, and he emerges from the bathroom naked, except for a towel that sits low on his hips.
I watch slack-jawed as he pads half naked and barefoot over to the dresser and pulls out some clothes. His back is to me and I admire the rippling muscles that tense and pull as he moves, almost swallowing my tongue when he loosens the towel and it falls to the floor.
He’s completely naked. His tight, round ass is perfect, and I want to shout out in protest when he slides on a pair of boxer briefs. Pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, he turns to face me with a knowing smirk on his lips and I feel the heat bloom across my cheeks. I fight the urge to curl up into a ball, my face is on fire and I’m so embarrassed at being caught ogling him.
Striding across the room he lifts a black leather vest from the back of a chair and pulls it on over his t-shirt, then he crawls onto the bed and flops down next to me. He doesn’t touch me, just sits propped up with his head leaning back against the wall. His legs are crossed at the ankles and his t-shirt has ridden up, so his stomach is on display. He’s so masculine but beautiful at the same time. His fingers edge across the space between us and he lifts my hand to his lips, kissing my skin gently. “Go take a shower, Angel. I’ll stay until Grits gets here.”
He doesn’t release my hand immediately and I look from his face to where he holds my fingers in his and back again. Deliberately, he turns my hand over and lifts my palm to his mouth, dropping a kiss to the very center. He folds my fingers over the spot his lips just touched and then releases me. I pull my hand into my chest, keeping my fingers folded protectively across the kiss in my palm. Something about the way he just touched me feels so incredibly intimate and I panic, scrambling from the bed and hurrying into the bathroom.
Closing the door firmly behind me, I rest against the wood and pull in a deep breath. I lift up my arm and slowly uncurl my fingers from my palm. I half expect his kiss to be branded into my skin, but my palm is empty and only the lingering feeling of his lips on my skin is left behind. Showering quickly, I wrap myself in a towel and half open the bathroom door, peeking through the gap. Grits is sitting on the bed messing with her cell phone and when she spots me she jumps up, a bright smile on her face. “Morning, Dove, how you doin’ today? I brought you some clothes. I wasn’t sure what size you were, so I got a selection.”
Opening the door fully, I step into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around me tightly and hurry to grab a pair of panties and a bra from my backpack. Grits is busy sorting through a pile of bags on the floor next to the bed, so I walk back into the bathroom and slide on my underwear and Daisy’s t-shirt. When I return, the bed is covered in clothes and Grits is busy organizing them into outfits. I hope that whatever she’s chosen for me has more fabric than hers. She’s wearing a short, tight black dress; knee high boots; and a leather vest that says ‘Property of Anders’ on the front. She looks fantastic, but I’ve never had that much flesh on display and I’m not convinced today is the day I want to start.
Grits smiles wide, takes two steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug. “Wow, Dove, you’re gorgeous even with that mean black eye.” Releasing me she points at the bed. “Okay, so I got you a few choices. You need something that will cover the backs of your thighs and not rub against the cuts, so bootie shorts and jeans are out. I know it’s probably not what you’re used to wearing but I have plenty of dresses and skirts for you to choose from.”
I start to reply but she cuts me off by thrusting three outfits into my arms. “Go try these on, come on out once you’re dressed so I can see.”
I obey and turn back into the bathroom; all three outfits are so unlike my normal clothes I barely recognize myself when I look in the mirror. Grits decides on the third outfit. A leather skirt that’s short enough to hit me mid-thigh but covers up the raw cuts and welts, a white shirt with the Doomsday Sinners logo on it that’s cut at the side and tied in a knot so a sliver of my stomach can be seen, and chunky black heeled boots with a bow at the back of each ankle. She braids back the front section of my hair but leaves the back loose and flowing over my shoulders. Lastly, she adds a quick coat of mascara and some shiny lip gloss.
She turns me to look in the mirror and stands to my side, a proud smile on her face. “You look beautiful, Dove.”
I stare at my reflection, hardly recognizing myself in the fitted clothes, and with my hair pinned back from my face. The heels are uncomfortable, and I want to tug at the hem of my skirt to make it longer. But I don’t; instead I just look at myself. My black eye and the bruises on my cheek glare back at me and I turn to Grits. “Shouldn’t I cover up the bruises?”
Grits shakes her head. “No, baby girl. It happened to you and no matter how much makeup you put over it, it still happened. Better to just put it out there and then let them fade. In a few days they’ll be gone, but you don’t hide from the bruises, you own them, then you watch them fade, knowing you won’t ever let them happen again.”
I nod, then turn back to the mirror and stare at my face. A knock at the door pulls me from my introspection.
“Come on in, she’s all ready,” Grits shouts.
The door swings open and Daisy walks in. Grits hangs her arm around my shoulders and turns me to face him.
His mouth falls open.