TWENTY-NINE
My Girl
Seven
I dreamt of Ainsley.
In the dream, she wasn’t the age she’d been when she’d died. She was four, wearing the same clothes the day our mother had abandoned us in Wal-Mart. “Isla, where’s Mommy?” Her eyes were wide with inquiry, as cobalt as mine were cerulean and they swam with fresh tears.
“She’s coming back.” I tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her tiny ear. “She just forgot something in the car.”
Ainsley nodded, content with the answer before busying herself with her candy. I glanced around, thrown back in time again, feeling the same panic I felt as I looked for signs of our mother. But instead of the aisles of Wal-Mart surrounding us, Ainsley and I stood in our mother’s house, the place she took me to hide from the Phantoms.
“What is this place?” Ainsley asked. Her eyes roamed over the unfamiliar setting.
I didn’t want to be here anymore than I wanted to be left in Wal-Mart, so I bolted for the door, finding it securely locked. “Shit.” I had to get us out of here.
I took a large step back, readying to kick the door in if I had to. “What are you doing?” Ainsley cried. “Don’t break it!”
“We’re not staying here.” Not if I could help it.
“Why not? It’s been a long time.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “I miss her.” Then she began to cry. Dropping to my knees before her, I pulled her into my arms. Over and over, she sobbed “I miss her. I miss her,” until tears welled in my own eyes. Her words were a sad echo of the truth that lay within my own heart.
Although I didn’t want to admit it, I did miss my mother. Even after everything she’d done to Ainsley and me, there was still a part of me that wanted to run straight into my mother’s arms and remember what it felt like to have her embrace me again.
At the same time, I didn’t know if I was capable of forgiving her. She had abandoned us, leaving us with no choice. Confusion warred with yearning until I wiped angrily at my tears. I’d shed enough tears for her already over the years.
The front of my shirt was damp when Ainsley pulled away. In her eyes, I saw the same hurt reflected back at me. “I thought she loved us.”
“She does.” I don’t know why I said that to her. But it came out so automatically that even I believed it. “And she’ll come back for us. I promise.”
Ainsley rested her head against my shoulder and sniffled. “I’m glad you’re here though. You always know what to do.”
From where we sat on the floor, I stared at the door, knowing that with enough muscle, I could pry that door open and walk Ainsley out of here. I could take her away from here and we could start a new life. Forget all that our mother had done to us and move on.
But in my dream, I didn’t. I stayed and comforted my baby sister until the door opened and our mother stepped in. She wore a scarf over her head; just like the one I’d seen her wear in the market. When she pulled it back, Ainsley shot up and ran towards her, crying out in relief. She scooped her up and kissed her chubby cheeks. My smile was genuine as I watched the jubilant gleam in my sister’s eyes. A few seconds ago, she was sobbing with yearning. But our mother’s presence had changed that. Was I a bad person for wanting to take a child from her mother? “Okay, let’s go,” Mom said, hugging Ainsley protectively to her chest.
Wait. “Where are you going?”
“We’re leaving.” Her eyes and words were cold as ice. “You’re staying.”
Staying? No! I didn’t want to be left alone. Not again. She was already heading out the door as Ainsley waved and uttered a cheery, “Bye, Isla!”
I ran for it, meeting the hard, cold surface of the door. I kicked and yelled for them to come back, but my cries after them went unheard. Sobs began to escape at the realization that I was alone again.
A black hole consumed me, bigger than before. I hadn’t realized it before now but perhaps I associated my mother’s abandonment to my sister’s loss as well. If she hadn’t left, maybe we could’ve still been a family. Ainsley and I wouldn’t have been subjected to abuse by the Martins and she wouldn’t have killed herself. Our mother leaving had started a cyclone that sucked everything good out of my life until nothing was left. Until I was nothing.
This dream made me feel like it was happening all over again.
* * *
I jolted awake, gasping for air. Lucky loomed over me, eyes gentle, touch kind. “You had a bad dream.”
A dream? I shook off the lingering sense of absence in my chest, focusing on the fact that Lucky was here with me, offering me comfort when not too long ago we couldn’t even stand to be in the same room together. “Are you all right?”
Turning to face him, I gave the question more thought than Lucky probably intended. Was I okay? “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “What would you do if your mother stormed back into your life after what she did to you?”
Light eyes morphed into stunning steel. “I’d run.”
“You would?” I couldn’t picture Lucky running from anything.
“Running from her was the one thing that saved my life.” I shifted towards him, drawn in by his words. His arms opened easily, accepting me without question.
I considered his words for a moment. I could run. My mother wouldn’t know it until I was long gone. There would be no need for me to deal with her, no need to deal with my emotions. It would be the simple way out.
Lucky leaned into me, brushing his lips against mine. It was nothing but a whisper of a touch but it brought on more comfort than I’d ever had in years. Somehow, we’d gone from enemies to this.
Lovers.
Did I want to leave all this and start over again? Could I leave my friends? Leave the family I’d made in Glory MC? Leave Lucky?
I snaked one arm around his neck, doing the same with the other until we were locked together. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
“Do you hate her?”
“Yes.”
“But could you forgive her?”
Forgive her? I didn’t know. After all these years without her, I couldn’t deny that there was a pang of yearning at seeing her again. The dream had confirmed it. I missed her. But was that enough to forgive her of all her sins? “I think that I could with time,” I began slowly. “But right now, I want answers, Lucky. I want to know why.”
He pulled me tight against him where the beating of his heart pulsed against mine. “We can do that. We can go see her, get your answers and then go from there.”
We, he had said. Not me. We. It had never been anyone else but me for so long; it felt strange to have someone around to have my back. Who would do whatever it took to make sure I was okay.
After Ainsley had died, I thought I’d be alone forever. Meeting Indy had shown me that all was not lost. I considered myself lucky to have her in my life. But then I found a family in Glory MC, too.
Overcome with gratitude, I tilted my head back so I could look into Lucky’s eyes, saying the words that I hadn’t ever dared uttered before now. “I love you.”
Lucky
I tried to keep the smile out from my words. “A little late, don’t you think?”
“Is it?”
“Most women tell me they love me after the first night.”
Ah, there it was. That smile. Seven’s most lethal weapon. “I’m not like most women in your life, Lucky.”
Damn, she couldn’t be any more right about that. “You’re the only woman in my life.”
What the hell was I doing? Seven had just admitted to loving me and instead of saying it back, I was teasing her. Any other girl would have been offended, but not her. She knew me well enough to know that something as important as this wouldn’t slide by me smoothly.
When she pulled back, she reached for the bottom of my shirt. I pushed her hands away, collecting them in my own and kissing them when she protested. “Turn around. Get on your hands and knees.”
I could tell she liked that idea. Her eyes sparkled with that wildfire before I kissed her deep. Bracketing her hips with my hands, I let my hands roam for a while, warming her with my touch, my kisses. I wanted her to feel everything I felt for her. “Lucky, please,” she panted with a swirl of her hips against my groin.
The friction created more heat. Sliding her panties out of the way, I eased into her slowly, groaning at how well we fit together. Our rhythm quickened until we were both gasping for breath.
“Lucky!” she cried. “You’re going to fuck me right off the bed!” When I opened my eyes, she was right on the edge of the mattress, her body half on, half off the bed. Gripping her hips tighter, I pulled her back.
But not all the way. She was still dangling off the bed but in this position, it put her ass right in the air, sparking an idea in my head. “Do you trust me?”
“I know that look. Whatever you are thinking, it’s never going to happen.”
Dammit. Chuckling, I pushed her down into the mattress, mounting her from behind. We groaned in unison at the change of angle, deeper than before. I trailed my hands down her spine. “You okay?”
“Yes. More. Please.”
She used her arms to keep her up from the floor as I started to move. The more I rocked into her, the closer we inched towards to edge of the mattress, the threat of falling off a real possibility, but it was impossible to stop now.
Seven had taught me that one’s past didn’t define a person. Her past had been dark and lonely, but it never once broke her spirit. Seven had found a place where there was joy.
Despite the drugs and lack of parental presence in our lives, I’d say that Lennon and I turned out okay. I didn’t think either one of us could say we reached the same point as Seven, but we were better off now. After everything that Seven had done for me, for Lennon, and for Glory MC, I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t alone when she decided what she wanted to do with her mother.
Her body tensed as she let out a low moan. Craning her head back, Seven stared at me with glazed eyes. I didn’t see an abandoned child, a sisterless loner, or a paid whore. I saw her as a survivor, a fighter, a lover.
Not Isla like the woman in the street had called her. But Seven.
My girl.
Biting her lip as she came, I watched as the most beautiful woman in the world lost herself in my arms. I shuddered, loving it, loving her so much that it became hard to breathe.
But she still had more to give, this selfless woman. Seven ground her hips against mine until there was nothing left to hold back. I gave it to her, my desire, my heart, my soul, so that she could not only know—but could feel—just how much I loved her too.