You could call me a goody-two-shoes. At least, my friends did. I wasn’t like the other biker daughters, on the rare occasions when I actually got to meet and interact with them. All of them were rough around the edges and completely immersed into club life. But my mother had raised me different. Instead of tank tops and cowboy boots, she put me in silky dresses with ribbons and bows along with white, Mary Jane shoes with the bows on the toe. The other girls hated me.
I really didn’t mind though. I knew that I was better than they were. I was going to go places and be something. I wasn’t going to be the ladies I occasionally saw my dad talking in corners to when I was allowed to go to club events. I was going to be so much more.
Those dreams required planning. I filled notebooks with ideas and timelines. I was going to be a college graduate at twenty-one, married at twenty-three, house and kids at twenty-five, a graduate degree at twenty-nine, and an awesome career woman at thirty. And when that didn’t add up, I would plan alternative routes and paths for me to take. One by one, those notebooks filled with schedules, reminders, and inspirational quotes I had found.
But what those notebooks didn’t prepare me for was the day I ran away from it all. I mean, how could I anticipate that my dad would go psycho caretaker on me, or that the abuse I saw almost daily would finally crack me wide open? How could I know that Martin would be just as bad of a human being, bent out to destroy any bit of happiness I could find?
All I knew was that today I had to get away, and I had to do it as quickly as possible. My original thought was to go to Alice’s place until I had the guts to get out of town, but when I realized that I only had about ten hours to do so, I knew Alice’s place wasn’t safe. It would be the first stop they’d go on the hunt for me.
So then I drove. I drove like a madwoman towards the freeway. My poor junker of a car nearly sputtered and stopped, as I pushed it over the speed limit, but I didn’t care. I just had to get out as fast as I could with the money I stole from my dad tucked away in my purse. Every now and then I’d glance down at that stack just to feel my stomach leap up into my throat.
Still, it wasn’t the money that made me come back to Garland. It was him—Gavin. About two hours into my freedom ride, I started to see bikers. At first, their presence freaked me out. I had sworn that my father was on to me and was sending out the goons to cut me off while I was still in their California territory. But they all sped past me like madmen with a mission.
And that’s when the visions of him started popping back. Each rider was Gavin. Gavin with a mustache. Gavin with a sleek helmet reflecting the sun into my eyes. Gavin giving me a nod of his head, as he checked me out at a construction zone. Gavin. Gavin. Gavin. I couldn’t not see or feel his presence out in the California desert.
After my tenth Gavin encounter, I knew that I couldn’t go a mile further. I had to go back for him. And if he wouldn’t come with me, I had to at least explain to him what I had heard and why I had acted as I had the night before.
The problem was that the night I went to Gavin’s place, I wasn’t exactly at my best. While I knew which complex he lived in, the rows and rows of brown doors with gold numbers wasn’t going to exactly help me. As I walked out of my car into the pouring rain and stared up at the vast apartment building, I knew I was way over my head.
One by one, floor by floor, I knocked on each door. Most didn’t answer. I figured with it being a weekday and mid-afternoon I would be safe from a lot of awkward run-ins. But the few people that did answer just stared off at me as if I was a complete nut job. It probably didn’t help that I currently look like a drowned rat with my clothes practically sticking to my body.
Finally, from across the hall, I saw him. The sound of his bike got to me first. It’s funny how little things like the noise an engine makes can be so ingrained in your head, especially when you need that sensation back. Little tingles crept up my spine and back causing me to turn away from the graying old man who was yelling at me from the top of his tired lungs that he didn’t take solicitors.
I tried to call out his name, but the sound of the rain pounding on the tin roof above us roared. Luckily, I made it to the third floor banister, just in time to see the top of his dark auburn hair, as he struggled angrily with his door’s lock. My feet couldn’t run fast enough, as I slipped and slid over the sloppy cement floors down to the second floor.
When I got to his door, I paused, my arm raised up just ready to knock. In that moment, I closed my eyes tightly and thought about what this knock was. Already I had made the decision to abandon my family for good, but knocking on Gavin’s door meant getting him involved to the point he or I could be killed. I couldn’t take this lightly.
But suddenly, I didn’t feel any more fear. The image of my father wasn’t there, hunting me down to the ends of the earth. All that was left was Gavin sneaking into my window, holding me in an embrace upon my bed. It was watching him from his bed as he went about his morning routine. It was just us…together.
I knocked. I knocked so loudly I thought my hand would instantly crack open from the weight and force. When he didn’t immediately come to the door, I began kicking at it, hoping that he would stop cursing at me and just give me a chance.
His eyes greeted me first. Those clear blue eyes sparkled like diamonds as they recognized me. We both stood completely still, him holding on to the door handle while I looked up at him unblinking until he spoke. “Vanessa?” Gavin has repeated my name at least three or four times, and I still can’t seem to answer him. “Vanessa, why are you here? I thought earlier, when you said—”
“Can I come in?” My first words to him are more like a plea.
His hands swing the door the open wider for me to slowly tiptoe into his apartment. It’s just as my hazy recollection recalls…with the plain walls and the bed in the back corner of the room. I stand there taking it all in, as my arms wrap around my chest to keep me from shivering.
Gavin notices immediately as he quickly commands me, “Get out of those clothes.”
“What?”
“You’re soaking wet. You can’t just stay in those things. Change out of them, and I’ll go grab you a pair of my pajamas while they are in the dryer.” He walks over to a dresser near the bed and pulls out a pair of black flannel drawstring pants and a black t-shirt. He places them on the table next to me and then turns his back to the wall, giving me the privacy he knows I need.
I quickly peel off the dripping wet clothes. Each piece falls onto the tile floor with a splat that makes me cringe. Everything about this is so embarrassing, but it only gets worse as I try to fit into his pants. While he’s slim, he’s also a giant in height. The pants drape around my feet and the shirt stretches to my knees. I look less like myself and more like a girl trying on her parents’ clothes.
When Gavin sees me, he lets out a long, deep laugh, breaking the mood. “Well, that isn’t exactly what I’d dream to see you in, but it’ll do.”
“Thanks,” I reply dryly, as I gather my clothes up into a pile and hand them over to Gavin. “I have a change of clothes in the car. I could always go back and get it.” I motion back towards the closed door, turning my head slightly away.
In a flash, he grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him. The wet clothes fall back to the ground, as he brushes away the strand of blackish brown hair from around my face. My arm slides up his chest and to his neck, lingering along his jaw.
We both pause before plunging in for a long, deep kiss. I feel myself sinking and lifting at the same time as I struggle to get closer to him. His large hand reaches under one of my legs and then the next as I float upwards. My legs catch around his hips as he begins to walk us over towards the couch in the living space. My hand reaches behind me, feeling for the leather sofa to catch my fall, and he follows, tumbling on top of me.
His mouth pulls away from mine, moving to the left, near my ear. His stubbly golden beard tickles at the side of my neck, as he trails down the long curve. When he hits the high collar of his t-shirt, he stops. I can feel his belly retract and release as he again lets out a long laugh. I pull my head up as I quickly ask, “What?”
He tugs at the collar of the shirt I’m wearing as he wipes away a tear. “It’s hard to get worked up when you smell like me and dress like me!”
I push off of him lightly. “Oh man! Come on!” I glance over towards the television. A green set of numbers is flashing the time, and I’m suddenly back to where I began. “Gavin…”
“I know. We have to talk.” He sits himself up first and then offers me his hand. I hold on as he pulls me up to sitting, directly across from him on the other side of the couch. “What are you doing here, Vanessa?”
“I-I-I ran away,” I say, stammering, unsure of what I am afraid of. “After last night, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Last night? With me?”
“Yes. I wanted you, Gavin. I wanted you so bad, and when I didn’t take off with you when you left, I regretted every second of it.” My voice speeds up as I begin to ramble. “I couldn’t sleep… I couldn’t think… I just wanted to rewind the time and say yes to you again. But I knew I couldn’t… So when I heard what my dad said this morning, I knew I had to be proactive and get the hell out of there.”
“Wait,” Gavin says with his hand raised in front of me. “What did Barber say this morning?”
“He was talking to my mom about marrying me off to some guy, I don’t even know his name.”
“Brock.” The tone of his voice is unreadable, as he looks down at his tattooed hands. “He’s marrying you off to Brock.”
“I don’t know. Whomever it is, I don’t care. But when my mom tried to stand up for you, he said he’d kill you.” I watch as Gavin stands to his feet and walks straight for the window, pulling back the blinds slowly. I know already that what I said has rocked him. “Gavin, I don’t want to get you in trouble. That’s why I took off on my own first, but something… I don’t know… maybe being out on that open road… Well, it made me think of you, and I had to go back.”
He doesn’t look away as he quietly says, “Vanessa, you have to go. You have to get out of here. I can’t protect you if you’re here.”
My mind goes numb as I try to process it all, and in that crazed moment, I blurt out, “Then come with me. That’s what I came here to say. Come with me. Come with me! With you by my side, I know we can get out of this town and out from under my dad and brother.”
I stand up quickly, as I try not to trip over the pants. My feet slosh back and forth as I walk over towards the window. Placing my hand on his shoulder, he turns to face me as I say quietly, “Gavin, I don’t want to go anywhere without you. You offered me a chance at freedom yesterday, and I turned you down. Now please give me a second chance.”
His hand cusps around mine before bringing it up to his face. He kisses it quickly as he softly says, “Things have changed, Vanessa. I learned some things today, and I need to stay here. The club needs me.”
“I need you.”
“I know.” His eyes glow hungry and tired all at the same time. “Go back home, Vanessa.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you have to go back home.”
“I stole.” It bursts out of me. “I stole a whole bunch of my dad’s money. I can’t go back there now.”
“What?” He looks at me in total disbelief. Here was this perfect angel of a woman admitting to a huge sin against someone way more dangerous than he dared to mess with. To Gavin, I was a changed woman.
“Please. He’ll kill me.”
“He’s going to kill both of us.”
I tug at his bare arm, my voice raised in panic. “Not if he doesn’t find out about you being involved, but I don’t know how to get out of this place without being caught. Even on the road, I saw the Pagans riding the highways.”
He walks away from the window and towards the bed. I stay in place in the living room just near the door in case I need to make a quick exit. After a few minutes of pacing, he talks from across the living room, “Exit 28. It’s a frontage road exit. No one’s there after six in the evening, not even the Pagans. You leave now, get to the other side of town, Senators’ territory if you can. And I’ll meet you there at six thirty tonight.”
I look straight at him as I dimly ask, “And you’ll come with me?”
“And I’ll come with you,” Gavin replies, his jaw set.