“My abuser used threats of violence against my family to control me. I remember feeling like I was stuck and I just wanted to protect everyone. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt because of me. It took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault, or because of anything I did.”

I was at a group meeting at the women’s shelter. Aubrey had been persuading me to try one. She said hearing other women’s stories helped her feel less alone. I was shocked when Jenny began to share her story with the room. We were alike in so many ways.

Aubrey interjected, “A lot of times our abusers will do this, and somehow we take on their behavior and blame ourselves. There is nothing anyone of you could ever have done to deserve a man putting his hands on you. I don't care if you cheated, or used drugs, or stole.

Even if you were not an ideal citizen or girlfriend, there is never a reason that a man abusing you is your fault. I want you all to think about how you take on blame, and I want you to believe that it wasn’t your fault.”

Aubrey finished the meeting, and a couple of toddlers ran into the room and climbed on their mother’s lap. She didn’t look much older than eighteen. The mother looked exhausted. One of the kids cried that they were hungry, and the other said that they had to go potty. I offered to help her, and she looked grateful. By the time I returned from the restroom, a lot of the women had cleared out of the large great room.

The shelter was an inconspicuous house that provided refuge to women and children in need. I learned that the Devil’s Crusaders had taken it upon themselves to drive by several times a day and to make sure everything was copacetic. The police often did drive-bys as well. There was a sense of security here.

Aubrey and Jenny, I was learning, had been through so much. They both seemed so together. It gave me hope that I could be together. I sat and had coffee with the women, but was mostly quiet and reflective.

Serenity, Jenny’s little girl, began to cry and get antsy. “I think it’s time for her nap. I better get going,” Jenny said, grabbing her diaper bag.

“Call me later,” Aubrey said, and I smiled and said goodbye.

“That was pretty intense,” I told Aubrey once Jenny had left.

“It’s a lot to take in. You okay?”

“Yeah, I think I just need to sit with everything for a while.”

“I understand. Call me if you want to talk, alright?” I gave her a quick hug and left.

I drove home, and after I parked, I immediately went to the small dock. I thought about everything that I’d heard. It didn’t matter that I was young and dumb, or that I forgave him after he strangled me. He had no right to hit me. I thought about how sometimes I’d reflect on that first time he hurt me. Since I forgave him, I often felt like I somehow made the rest of his abuse acceptable. It made me feel guilty, and I realized how I needed to let go of some of that guilt. I thought about the last beating Drake dished out, and that it wasn't my fault that there were dishes in the sink. Even if it was, even if they were piled high, he had no right to touch me. I had to also work on forgiving myself. There was a lot that I was feeling.

I’m not sure how long I sat there. I didn't even feel the cold seeping into my bones, as the air around me chilled. A slight fog rolled over the lake, and I wondered if it would rain.

As usual, I didn't hear Mickey as he approached. He placed a blanket over my shoulders. “Ye alright, love?”

I looked up at him and realized that I’d been crying. I didn’t need to hide my tears. I was freely exposing myself to Mickey. He brushed the tears away and sat behind me, pulling me in close to his chest, his legs stretched on both sides of me. After several quiet minutes, Mickey asked, “What’s happened?”

“I went to a group meeting for victims of abuse, and it gave me a lot to think about.” I didn't say anything else, and Mickey didn't have to say anything either. He just sat with me for a long time holding me. I found comfort in the silence. I found comfort in Mickey.

***

“SHOTS!” MAURA YELLED. We were in the clubhouse. It was my first clubhouse party, and Maura had come into town for the night. Her husband, who was some gigantic Marine, stayed pretty close to her side all night long.

Talon was staying over Jenny’s mom’s house. They had met a few times and seemed to do well together, and they were watching Serenity for Jenny and Jules.

“None for me,” Jenny said rubbing her belly.

“I know,” Maura laughed, “How about you Aub? Daws?” Aubrey shook her head no, and Daws gave a subtle chin lift.

“Marie! What do you say? Are you a tequila or whiskey kinda gal?”

“I’ll drink whatever,” I said shrugging my shoulders.

“Dad? Whiskey?” Mickey nodded, and Maura was set on her shot-mission. Mickey was close by my side, and he whispered into my ear, “We’re staying here tonight, love. I told Corbin he and Maura could have my place, but I want to feck ye here. I want anytime I go into my room to imagine my cock slamming into ye.”

Fuck, his words turned me on. I angled toward him and kissed his neck, then pressed my breasts against his chest. I swore he emitted a low growl that I felt deep in my core.

I moved to his ear and whispered back, “I'll fuck you anywhere, anyway, you want me.” Mickey’s nose flared, and I heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Marie, hope you like a snakebite.” Maura broke Mickey and my trance. She began to pass out shots. “Dad, toast!”

Mickey’s eyes danced, as he looked to me, “To getting all the things ye want, and everything ye need. To knowing when ye’ve had enough, and when to fecking scream!” He laughed and raised his glass; everyone clinked them together.

I gulped mine back and would’ve gladly gone back to Mickey’s room right then and there, but Maura grabbed my hand. “Come on, Marie! Let’s dance!”

I didn't really want to dance, but this was Mickey’s daughter, and I wanted to get to know her. She dragged me away from Mickey, and I didn't protest. She was fun. She was wild. I could definitely tell a bunch of bikers raised her. Overall, she was awesome.

I’m not sure where all the shots came from, it almost seemed magical. I was swaying my hips and then somehow a small shot glass would end up in my hand. I was laughing and sweating. It was the most carefree I’d felt in a long time.

Maura stopped dancing, and I heard her yell, “Hey, bimbette! Stop gawking at my husband!”

Corbin did a come-hither thing with his finger, and Maura went to him. I took it as my cue to get water and cool off. Big Titty Rhonda was behind the bar and served me quickly. She apparently was different than the other Rhonda because of the size of her tits. Meh—bikers!

“Ye having a good time?” Mickey asked, as he met me at the bar.

“I am. I’m a little drunk though.” I laughed.

“I see dat,” he grinned.

“What about you? You’ve had maybe as many shots as me.”

“Aye, but whiskey runs through my veins.”

I laughed again. “Your accent's hot!” I blurted, and realized that those snake bites were leaving me uninhibited. Mickey chuckled. “Your club is fun. Nothing is too crazy. I don't feel like I have to watch my back, when I’m here. It’s a nice surprise.”

“Were ye worried?”

“I didn’t know what to think. Maura’s fun, too. It seems like you did a good job with her. I like her.” I scrunched up my nose, because it tickled a little. “I like you.” I blurted. Yep, no filter tonight.

Mickey laughed, and this wasn't just a chuckle, but a throw your head, back belly rumble. I loved it. I made eye contact with Maura who saw it too, and she threw an enormous smile my way.

Once Mickey stopped laughing, he said, “Glad ye like me. I like ye a feck of a lot. Are ye too drunk to get out of here? Watching ye dance has been killing me.”

“Lead the way, Irishman.” We said a quick goodnight to Maura and her husband. At that point, no one else mattered. I didn't care who we missed. I was about to get drunk fucked by Mickey, and I was beyond excited.

His room was dark as we entered, with a small amount of light shining in. He locked the door behind us, and I was shocked at how quiet it was in here. I watched him as he turned on a small bedside light.

“How come you can’t hear the party?”

“Maura was here a lot when she was little, so I had soundproofing put in a long time ago.”

“Makes sense.”

“Marie.”

“Yes?”

“Come here! No more talking. I need ye.”

The words struck me, even in my drunken state. He needed me. How could a man like him need me? But he did. I could see it in the way he watched me. He looked hungry, and often while I danced, I felt like I was just waiting to be devoured by him. He was starved.

I didn’t wait. I whipped off my shirt taking my bra with it, letting my breasts bounce free.

“Jesus, those are the best fecking breasts I’ve ever seen.”

Mickey took his boots off, but never took his eyes off of me.

“I got scars, Mickey, but you never seem to see them when you stare at me. Why is that?”

“Chatty,” he laughed, then his face got soft as he answered. “I don’t see your scars. All I see is your beauty.”

“How can you not see them?” Okay, he was right, I couldn't seem to shut up.

“I know they’re there, but to me, they’re more like a map. They tell me that the road you’ve traveled hasn’t been an easy one, but look at you; my lioness so fierce. So fecking sexy.”

I went to Mickey, crashing my lips against his. I thought we were going to have a wild drunk fucking, but it wasn't that. It was so much more than that. He was slow. He took his time. He brought me to the brink again and again, until finally we both crashed, and it may have been one of the sweetest fucking landings that I’d ever had.