Finding Willow

CHAPTER 7

“My favorite color is pink. I love all different shades of pink. Light pink, dark pink, my all-time fave is hot pink, though. I love Hello Kitty, too. I wish I could get a cat, but my Daddy won’t let me. He doesn’t think I am responsible enough yet. He said maybe for my next birthday,” Scarlett rambles on and on as if no one at home ever listens to a word she says.

“I like pink, too, but I think my favorite color of all time is lime green. I like bright colors.”

She sits on the steps of the art store, painting her little heart out. She’s brushed a beautiful sky scene, full of pinks, reds, and oranges, with the tiniest touches of blue. It is beautiful and her talent is crystal clear. I wouldn’t mind painting with her more often, because I could pick up some pointers from her. Sad, huh?

“Your dad is going to be here in a couple minutes to pick you up.”

I’m sad to see her go, but I have to drive a half hour north to Jefferson City and follow up on that address Davis sent me. I would’ve gone first thing this morning, but I’m glad I took the time to hang out with Scarlett.

“Do you like my Daddy?”

Well, that came out of left field. They always say kids say the damnedest things. I guess that’s true.

I am not sure if like would be the best description for what I feel for her father. Maybe a day ago, but today it is more of a tolerance.

“I guess you could say that.”

She smiles and bounces up and down.

“I think he likes you, too.” She is elated, but I don’t want to give her the wrong message.

“Scarlett, you know a lot of people pass through Woodstock. I am not here to stay, honey.”

“Oh,” is all she says. Her eyes search the distance, looking everywhere but at me. I feel bad, really bad. But I don’t want to give her any false sense of hope. I won’t be staying here; this isn’t my home anymore. I’m living out of a motel room, looking for my very own little girl, whom I can only hope will be a lot like Scarlett.

“Starburst Joni Bloom!”

Oh dear God. I know that voice anywhere. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight on end as my mother makes her way up the front stairs of the art store. I didn’t want to see her. But I also couldn’t hide in my room the whole time I was in town.

“Mother.” I nod as Scarlett starts to clean up her paint mess.

“I didn’t think I would see you here in Woodstock again. What brings you home?”

She isn’t being nice; she’s prying for information. She is nervous, and I am sure she is hiding something. My parents are always hiding something.

“Needed to get out of the city for a little bit. I will see you on Friday.”

I turn to start packing up. I hear the door to the art store open and, when I turn around, my mom is gone. Scarlett ignores the entire exchange. I guess by the time you’re her age, you know when to not include yourself in the middle of adult shit. I’m thankful for that because I am not good at explaining adult shit in kid appropriate terms.

The roar of a motorcycle disrupts the peace of Main Street as Chrome comes barreling down the road, stopping in front of the art shop. I knew I would have to see him again today; I just sent up a dozen silent prayers that Chrome would change his mind and River would pick Scarlett up this afternoon.

“All ready to go, baby girl?” His voice makes me want to melt. I can’t help it. It is just the instant reaction my body has to him. Fucking traitor. I am starting to understand exactly how Seven feels about Levi. No matter how much she tried to push him away, she just couldn’t. I’m slowly losing my battle against Chrome. Three fucking days. Three days and I feel like a tween obsessing over those British boy band kids.

“Yup,” Scarlett says, scooping her bag up off the front porch and heading for the waiting motorcycle at the curb. I pick up my own bag to make my way to my car, but Chrome stops me. Well, more like I run directly into his steel door of a fucking chest. Not that I am complaining at all. Maybe I should be complaining.

“Got a moment?”

I want to say no, but I also want to know what he wants. I give him the benefit of the doubt after spending a really good morning with the little girl who happens to be his daughter. I enjoyed my time with Scarlett. I wonder what it would be like to spend time with Willow. Would they be alike? Would they like the same things? Is Willow as happy with her life as Scarlett is?

“What’s up?” I sling the bag over my shoulder and start walking to the car as he flanks my right side, never missing a step.

“I wanted to talk to you about spending time with Scarlett.”

I know where this is going, so before he can say anything else, I rudely cut him off. I know, I am leading her on, but I don’t mean to.

“I told her I am not staying in Woodstock, Chrome. My time here is short. Once I find what I am here for, I am going back to Manhattan. I put it as nicely as I could today when we were painting. I don’t want her to get hurt.” I know it is a lie, but I don’t want anyone here depending on me. Especially this little girl. It would break my heart to hurt her.

“What?” Chrome stares at me with a blank expression. Like I pulled the rug out from under him. His face is puzzled, his eyes are dark, and the creases around the corners of his eyes are deep.

“I told her not to get too attached. I am not staying in Woodstock. Once I find what I came here looking for, I am going back to my apartment in Manhattan. Honestly, Chrome. I hate Woodstock. It holds too much pain for me. This may be home, but so much was taken from me in this town.”

“So, you aren’t staying here?”

“No, I’ve been here for three days, Chrome. What are you getting at?” Maybe I am just annoyed. I have never been good at gauging my own emotions. He doesn’t answer me. He just stares.

“Chrome. I don’t know what this is. But I have no intentions of staying in Woodstock. I came here to get my shit together, find somebody, and get on with my life.” I let out a sigh. How do I always find myself in these fucked up, complicated situations?

“Can we talk tonight?”

What do I say to that? How do I answer that? I want to. I just don’t want whatever this is that we have going to take some kind of new turn. I’m just not up for it. But you know that old phrase? Curiosity killed the cat? I might as well be that dead cat on the side of the road. The one who tried to beat the car barreling down the road. Because I take the bait.

“Seven. My room.”

I open the car door, throw my bag on the passenger seat, and close my door. I don’t wait for him to acknowledge me.

The entire car ride to Jefferson Heights is silent. I leave myself to my thoughts. Mainly drifting back to the fact that I have let one man ruin me. Blue took my childhood. He took my teen years. He took my independence. He took my self-esteem. He took Starburst Bloom. He killed the bright spirit I had as a little girl the first moment he laid a finger on me. It was wrong. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t deserve it. I never deserved a single, fucked up thing he did to me all these years.

I, Starburst Bloom, will no longer be the victim of his abuse. I am not a fucking victim. God, I wish I could be more like Seven. Maybe she can give me lessons in being badass? Letting shit just roll off my shoulders.

I don’t know how to make the change in my life, but this is my turning point. I deserve a good life. I deserve to finally be happy after all these disgustingly miserable years. All the bad choices I made. All the bullshit I took because I thought I was a fuck up that deserved to be shit on by everyone and their mother. This is it. This is my fucking out. I choose freedom. Freedom from my demons. Freedom from his touch. Freedom from the prison of my own mind. I choose life. I choose redemption. I deserve a good life. I deserve love. I deserve happiness. I want it all.

I am going to take the world by the balls. Take no prisoners. I will be the badass bitch I ache to be. This is my fucking time.

I take the left turn off the main interstate down a long dirt road. This address can’t be right because it doesn’t look like anyone has driven down here in ages. The trees and bushes are overgrown. The road has deteriorated. I see the house; it’s large and white. Green vines cover most of the windows and the front porch is full of holes. Clearly, no one has lived here in forever. This can’t be the right address.

I check the GPS again, I look at the address Davis e-mailed me. But everything is right. It’s just a dead end. There is no Wesley Driscoll here. There is no Willow. There is no sign of life beyond a couple stray cats and God knows what that is now living in this house that is supposed to be home to my fucking daughter.

For the first time in days, I feel tears filling my eyes. So much hope filled my day. Only to be smashed once again. I feel like I am fighting a fucking losing battle. I am never going to find Willow. She is gone. Should I accept it? What do I do now? I feel so fucking defeated.

The tears glide down my cheeks as I punch the steering wheel of my car. A sob escapes me, and I cry louder. With the windows tightly rolled up, on a deserted road, I break down. Flailing like a toddler having a temper tantrum.

“It’s not fucking fair!” I scream.

I cover my face with my hands and wipe the tears away. This is such bullshit. I want to drive right back to Woodstock and find my mother. I want to wring her fucking neck until she tells me where the fuck my daughter is. The only thing stopping me is fear. Fear that she won’t know. Fear that she will do more to hide my little girl from me. Fear that she will get in my way, or stop me. This is all her fault. I will never forgive her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Goddamn it all.

I back my car up and turn around heading back for the main road. I type Davis’s number into my phone and throw it into the center console while the phone line cues up with the Bluetooth system in my car.

“Davis,” he answers the phone, all business. I choke back a sob, and do my best to bury the amount of disappointment in my voice.

“Hi, Davis. Star Bloom here.” I try to smile, even though I know he can’t see me through the phone. I need to get my shit together. I need to stop letting these dead ends fuck me up so bad. Maybe I just need a serious fucking prescription of Zoloft or something?

“Miss Bloom, good to hear from you. Were you able to follow up on that address?” I want to yell at him, but I know none of this is his fault. I need to channel the misplaced rage I am feeling.

“Yes, Davis. I’m actually leaving the house right now. It is abandoned. Looks as though no one has lived there for quite some time.”

I blow out a deep breath and focus on the road as I pull back onto the main interstate without killing anyone. I hear him sigh as the keys of a computer keyboard sound off in the background.

“Interesting. Okay. Give me a couple hours and I will see if I can pull up any more information. I am sorry about that, Star. I would have never sent you there if I had known that.”

He is genuinely sorry. I’m sure he has dealt with clients in my position before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with on my part. It sucks. But there is nothing in my power I can do about it right now. I will roll with the punches and deal with it all as it comes.

Maybe I could use a good yoga session?

“You okay?” River asks from behind me. I’m sure my red blotchy face gives me away. Or maybe it’s the sniffles as I shuffle my feet to the door of my lonely motel room.

“Yeah, I just got some shitty news this afternoon. Not a big deal.”

I shrug it off, but it is a big deal. I know Davis is one of the best in his field, and if there is something to find, he will find it. Unfortunately, his trail is cold at this moment. Nothing either of us can do about it. No need to cry or carry on. He’ll find something, and I will be able to continue my search soon enough.

“Please tell me it doesn’t have to do with my brother.” He’s pissed. I can tell by his clipped tone. He doesn’t hide his emotions well at all.

“No, for once since I rolled into town, this has nothing to do with Chrome.” Three damn days and it feels like I have become a staple in this town already. I don’t know if I like it or hate it. Maybe it is time to finally make some good memories of Woodstock?

“Well, if you need to talk you know where to find me.” He disappears back inside the motel office, and I wander into my room with only one mission. Call Seven and vent. If I keep this all pent up inside, it is going to end badly.

A realization hits me. That is what drugs have been for me all these years. My out. A way to numb these feelings. Now I am being forced to deal with them, and, even though I have no idea how to, I am figuring it all out on my own. This is what I should have done a long time ago.

The line rings and rings and rings. Totally unlike Seven. She might as well live on top of her cell. She always answers on the first or second ring. Finally, she answers, but she sounds like absolute death.

“You okay, Sev?”

“Just battling some food poisoning.”

“Can you listen?” She reluctantly agrees. I don’t want to keep her on the phone, but she listens like the best friend she always has been, and probably will be.

I offload everything. All the things on my mind that have been eating at me for months, years. Everything I did since I got to Woodstock, minus everything with Chrome. I’m just not ready to even think about that. I finally close with the dead end I faced this afternoon. No Willow in sight.

“Star, we will find her. I promise you.”

I hear her gag on the other end of the line, and I know the conversation is over. The phone crashes to the floor and I hit the end button. Poor Seven; she never gets sick, but clearly something did a number on her. I feel bad that I’m not there to take care of her, like she always has been for me. I know she understands. She encouraged me to set off on this journey. But it doesn’t make me feel any less bad. I’m never there for her when she needs me, yet she is always front and center for me. I really am a shitty friend.

Several soft knocks sound on the hotel room door, waking me from my impromptu nap. I look at the clock and realize Chrome is the one on the other side of the door. Seven on the dot. I don’t want to answer the door. I wish I could just pretend that I’m not here, but my car is a dead giveaway in the parking lot.

“Come on, Star. You’re the one who told me to come.” He bangs a little bit louder, and finally, I get my ass up from the bed and answer the door.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.” I invite him into the small room, which seems even smaller with him invading my space. I begin to think this room really isn’t going to cut it much longer. I don’t want to stay here, but I don’t want to go back to Manhattan, either. Maybe ever. It just isn’t my thing anymore. It isn’t home for me. It was just a temporary getaway from the demons I never faced.

“You wanted to talk?” I ask him as I curl back up on the surprisingly comfortable bed, propping my head up in my hand. He turns his face away and takes a deep breath. Turning back to me, his hands try to run through the hair he doesn’t have on his head. His face is pained and I feel guilty. Like I am the one causing him this pain; it’s my natural reaction to anyone suffering around me, since, for years, I have been the source of pain for so many people.

“It was stupid of me to think you were going to be staying in town. You are only checked into a motel.” He shakes his head and his hands fall into his lap. “But I don’t want you to leave Woodstock. I know I am not around a lot, but when I am here, and not away on club business, I want to see you.”

What the fuck did he just say? He wants me here in Woodstock? What kind of fucking game is this?

“Hear me out before you say anything, please,” he stops me. Maybe it’s the look on my face, which I can only speculate is torn between terror and shock. My arm gives out and my head flops back onto the pillow.

“Look. I am not good with this shit. Scarlett loves you; she thinks you are the coolest person ever. River holds a torch for you. I… well, I like you Star.”

I can’t listen to this anymore. I cut him off. For some odd reason, I am mad.

“You don’t fucking know me, Chrome.” I shoot up straight in bed and my arms start flailing all over. “You know nothing about me! You don’t know why I am in town. You don’t know why I left Woodstock to begin with. You don’t know anything beyond my fucking name and maybe the fact that you like to shove your dick in me any chance you get. That is why you came here tonight, right? Gotta get off again before you hit the road?” I snap. I am a lunatic. It is official. I need help.

“Shut the fuck up! Just shut your stupid ass fucking mouth!” He gets up from the tiny chair his ass was occupying and stalks toward the bed. “Will you fucking listen to a word I am saying?” he yells. He is so close; I can feel his breath on my cheeks, but I squeeze my eyes shut, just waiting for the blow to come.

“Why the fuck are you cowering? Who fucking beats on you, Star? Goddamn it!”

He backs away, sitting down at the other end of the bed. When I feel the weight dip, I slowly open my eyes back up. I watch him cautiously. His pained eyes never leave mine.

“Tell me, Star,” he gently whispers. I want to open up to him. I want him to be my safe place. I want him to be my refuge. Can I take a chance on him? All the dreams of a happily ever after I have craved since I was a child play through my mind. But is he that kind of guy? Will it pay off or will I just end up hurt once again in my life? So many questions engulf my mind. Questions I wish I had an answer to. Everything in me screams, run; don’t trust him. Don’t fucking trust men at all. But I know this may be the chance to start over I need.

I close my eyes while I argue with myself, only opening them again when I feel his rough hand run along my tear-stained cheek.

“Chrome, you don’t want me. You don’t want to know what I have been through in my life. You don’t want to get mixed up in someone as fucked up as me. I’ll tell you, but I am giving you this chance to turn and walk out of that door before I unload this all on you.”

I look up to his warm eyes, full of caring, looking at me in a way no one has looked at me before in my life. Not even Seven. It is now or never.

“I don’t want to go anywhere, Star. You don’t have to believe me, but I won’t walk out that door.” His words should mean nothing, because no one has ever stood by me. But he doesn’t move. He sits on the bed, next to me, keeping a cautious distance, and letting me work out whatever it is that I need to.

“It started when I was young. Really fucking young.” Do I start there? Do I want to dive into the really bad right off the bat? Is that even fair to him?

“My childhood was fucked up. I grew up here in Woodstock. My parents had an old VW bus. It was my family, and my best friend’s family. Our parents are swingers, I guess? I don’t know; it’s fucked up. But they had a son who was a lot older than us. Blue would watch us when they were off doing God knows what. Drugs, fucking… whatever was on their agenda for the day.”

I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I feel sick. I want to throw up.

“I was young, eight, maybe nine, when it started. It went on for years. I thought it was okay because we had done it for so long. When I was a teen and he came around, we would fuck around. I thought it was all just normal.” I almost don’t notice, but a single tear falls from my eye. It’s the start of a flood.

“The first time, I said no. He wouldn’t listen. He just wouldn’t stop. He called me names and told me I led him on. He took my virginity.” My stomach churns again, and I know for sure this time it won’t be as forgiving as it has been in the past when I thought about those moments. My body surges forward off the bed, and I run for the bathroom. Just as I pass the threshold of the door, I empty the contents of my stomach all over the grey tiled floor, missing the toilet by a few inches. Chrome’s big hands grasp my hair, pulling it from my face as I continue to dry heave over the toilet. But nothing comes up. Everything is already out. I wave him off, and he takes a few steps back, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

I rinse my mouth and throw a towel over the mess I just made. I can’t bring myself to clean up vomit right now. I will continue getting sick if I even try.

I push past him, heading for my perch back on the bed. The comfort of the little bit of home I have right now. He follows like a lost puppy dog, waiting for me to continue down the road of my fucked up life. I do.

“It continued, but I let it. I thought he loved me, but what Blue has for me isn’t love; it is a sense of possession. But it stopped for a long time. When he got me pregnant, he left. He wouldn’t touch me. I was broken. I was damaged. He did it to me, and he walked away. Eventually, our parents found out, and they got involved. Blue didn’t come back. Not for years. But, by then, the damage was done.”

My tears begin again. I have told Seven the story, but this is different. Chrome’s body is tense. His face is stone. He looks as though he could snap and kill someone at any moment. But his anger isn’t directed at me. It is directed at the person who truly deserves every ounce of hate someone could conjure up: Blue. I can almost see him plotting a way to off him behind those brown eyes. Even if he tried, I wouldn’t stop him. His genuine pain over my years of hurt is moving.

I feel like a weight is being lifted from my soul. He is taking the pain I have lived with for all these years. Crushing it and killing it. Giving it no power over me anymore.

“When Willow was born, our parents took her. They found a family to adopt her. The Driscolls lived in a commune locally somewhere. It wasn’t until I decided to look for her that I learned the parents were killed in a car accident a couple years ago. I can’t find Willow. All the traces of her are gone. All dead ends.”

I let out a sigh and the tears slow.

“He broke me. Losing Willow broke me. I got involved in bad shit over the years. I’ve been doing porn since I turned eighteen. I’m sure you have seen some of it.” I can’t help but laugh because I can tell, just by looking into his eyes, that I’m right.

“I don’t care, Star. I don’t fucking care about any of it. I mean, I do care, but I don’t. Fuck. I don’t know what to say. I want to kill him, because he hurt you. If anyone ever touched Scarlett, I would kill them. I would fucking kill them. Your fucking parents should have protected you.” The rage within him is building. His warm eyes are becoming dark. For once in the short time we have been together, his anger doesn’t scare me.

“That’s why I’m in Woodstock. I am trying to find my daughter. Once I do, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I was planning on going back to Manhattan, but I don’t think that’s a good idea now, either. I am not strong enough to be around the fast lane again. Drugs are too much of a temptation, and I’ve lost too many years already. I don’t know what I’m going to do, Chrome. But I don’t want to lead you or your family on. I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

“Can you do something for me, Star?”

Can I? I don’t know. I can barely do anything for myself these days, but if I can, I will fucking try my damnedest.

“What?”

“Don’t leave before I get back on Thursday. Promise me you won’t leave.” His hands pick mine up from my lap, his fingers running across my knuckles. I can’t leave until after Friday, so I guess I can reassure him I will still be here, at least until then.

“I have something on Friday. I will still be here when you get back. Where are you going?”

I can’t help my nosy nature. I want to know. I want him to call me when he is gone. I want him to be mine. Fuck everything. This is the most ridiculous shit ever.

“I got club business to deal with in Massachusetts. I will try to get back as early as I can. I leave tomorrow night, after dinner. You think you would wanna come over for family dinner with Scarlett? It is kind of a Sunday thing when I’m home.”

“Do you like it?” Maybe I shouldn’t be so vague. “The nomad lifestyle. Being on the road all the time. Ya know, with the club.” I never had a real home, even though I have always craved one. But the open road is the only place I have ever felt at home.

“Sometimes. I miss Scarlett, but nothing beats the freedom of the open road. It helps me clear my head.”

“Chrome? Bring me for a ride?”

A lazy smile spreads across his face, as he slowly pulls me across the bed and into his arms.

“Not before I do this.” His lips lightly graze mine, gently placing a chaste kiss against my lips. No passion or want. Just comfort, promise, caring. Simple affection. He shows me how much he cares with the simple gesture. Even though I’m not ready for his wordless confession, I soak up every second of it. It calms me. Comforts me. Starts to slowly repair all the cracks in my broken soul. Something I never thought would happen.

His mouth pulls away from mine, and he takes my hand, pulling me up from the bed and heading for the door.

“You are gonna wanna do something with your hair, and put on a warm jacket. It’s cold out there this time of night.” My hair? Well, it’s too short to pull back; what the hell can I do? Never mind. I have an idea.

“Can I use that bandana?” I point at his colors, hanging from his back pocket. Some kind of unspoken motorcycle gang thing. But I don’t care. It’s the rag, or my hair smacking him upside the head. He pulls the blue bandana out of his back pocket and folds it.

“Come here.” He stands behind me, pushing my short hair behind my ears, and gently tying the bandana around my head, holding it all in place.

“This should work. Too tight?” His concern is funny to me, no one has ever treated me so gingerly. Coming from such a beast of a man it’s more than touching.

“It’s fine.” I pull my thick black hoodie on and zip it up. I’m ready. Desperate to see if the peace of the open road is enough to continue repairing everything that has always been wrong with me.

“Come on.” He takes my hand again and out the door we go, into the cold, dark fall night.

“Sit tight for a second. Let me get on first and then I will help you up onto the back. Okay?”

I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before in my life. Well, I guess I have ridden someone on a motorcycle but that totally doesn’t fucking count. His long muscular legs straddle the giant chrome-lined motorcycle. He flips the kickstand up and reaches his hand for mine.

“Use the peg right there with your left leg and swing your right leg over the seat. Sorry I don’t have a back rest. I don’t usually do passengers.” His confession catches me off guard, but the little surge of happiness I feel is enough to put the first smile on my face since the morning when I was with his little girl.

With my ass snug on the tiny backseat of his monster of a bike, I reach between our bodies for the small leather strap. The motorcycle roars to life and he lets out a laugh. Letting go of the handlebars, he pulls my arms around his waist and I loop my fingers through his belt loops, holding on to him tighter than I have ever held on to a human in my life. Including my best friend.

The tires of the motorcycle peel out of the dirt parking lot, kicking up a cloud of brown smoke as we hit the pavement of the main road and head out of town. I close my eyes and take in the feeling of the ride. The wind blows through my hair, the chill bites my face, and the engine vibrates through my entire body. Freedom isn’t the only thing I feel as we tear down the road heading for the old scenic roads on the outskirts of the little hippie town.

Every turn we round, I hold on tighter. Every negative thought in my head flies out into the night sky. Every bad memory slowly purges from my being. The wind cleanses my soul, as the roar of the motorcycle engine mends every one of my imperfections. When Chrome said going for a ride was freeing, that was a complete understatement.

I could live on the back of this bike for the rest of my life, simply because it gives me the most peace I have ever felt. I crave this freedom. I almost want my own bike, even though I know that’s a completely fucking extreme idea. This is my first time on the back; there is no way I need to be riding my own. I would probably kill myself.

I close my eyes again and enjoy the peace of the ride. The miles of dark road fly by in a blur. Almost an hour has gone by when we pull back into the parking lot of the motel. I have no idea where we went and I don’t really fucking care. The ride served its purpose. The memories of the past are where they belong now. In my past. From here on out, everything is about the future and what I am going to make of my life. This is my fucking life and no one is going to get in the way of me living it anymore.

I climb off the back of Chrome’s motorcycle and slowly regain feeling in my legs and ass. I have been sitting on the small, hard leather backseat for so long that my vagina is seriously fucking numb. I could totally take a good pounding right now and would never feel a thing. Damn, come to think of it, that would kind of suck.

Chrome cuts the engine of the motorcycle and joins me in front of my door. We stare at each other for a long moment, wondering what the next move is. Do I invite him in? Do I say goodnight? Do I say goodbye until next week when he returns from whatever business?

His words break my thoughts.

“So, now what?”

I don’t know the answer. I wish I could see inside his mind, because everything going on inside me is hinging on him. I want to know if he wants me. But then again, that is just way too much like the old Star. Waiting to see what a man wants, instead of going for exactly what I fucking want for once. This is my turn to take control of my life. Go after what I want. Make my own future.

“That ride, it was nice. Exactly what I needed. I feel different. Free.” I pull the bandana off my head, and hold it out to him. His hand reaches out for the blue piece of fabric, stuffing it in his back pocket before taking another step toward me.

“I don’t know what to do or say now. Whatever this is, it’s new to me. But I can tell you, I want you to come back inside my room with me.” I’m brave, but that is as brave as I can get. I leave the choice up to him. I hold my breath while I stand there waiting. I turn to unlock the door.

“Star, I’m sorry about what you saw at the diner. Whatever this is with you, I want it. I don’t want to let you go. I’m gonna fuck up; it’s what I do. But I promise I will try and do better.”

I push it open, and he is right behind me as we step over the threshold. The door slams shut and I am pushed up against the wall once again. The same wall he fucked me up against the first night I laid eyes on him. It seems like an eternity ago, but it’s only been days. My body gravitates toward him, melting against his touch as his lips cover mine. It isn’t a forceful kiss like last time. It is tender and sweet, but still full of passion. His mouth makes love to mine, showing me how much he cares, despite the fact that we are virtually strangers.

He slowly pulls away and runs a fingertip down the length of my face. I try to speak, but he silences me, pressing a single finger against my lips.

“I don’t want to rush this.”

The two times we have been together has been rushed for sure. Almost fully fucking dressed on top of it. I didn’t crave the personal connection of being completely naked with him, exploring every inch of his body, until now. We have turned a page. Crossed an unspoken line in the sand.

I’m scared shitless. My nerves are getting the best of me as I overthink every single aspect of my life. Every time I try to process what is happening between us, I can’t help but throw all caution to the wind. I just want to do this with him. Whatever this is.. If it isn’t the right thing to do, I will only end up fucked once again. But at least it won’t be the first time.

His fingers run through my knotted hair. The wind-whipped tangles catch on his rough hands as he gently smooths my dark locks. It is a simple act, but one of the most intimate connections I have ever shared with another human being. His strong arms scoop me up while he slowly makes his way to the bed, where he tenderly lays me down. He sits at the edge of the bed and begins to unlace his black boots. The silence continues between us and I hate it. It is just too quiet.

“You don’t have to take those off, ya know?”

He lets out a chuckle and turns to face me while he toes off both boots.

“If I want to do this right, I do.”

The lazy smile on his face is enough to bring me to my knees, but I am already flat on my back. I grasp the black hoodie which still clings tightly to my body. I’m still warming up from the chilly night’s ride.

His words finally strike me.

“Do what right?” I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to do anything right with me. I have always been the wrong girl for all the right reasons. The rebellion. The porn star experience. The drugs.

“Make love to you.” His fingers pull at the zipper of my hoodie. I let him undress me. He takes his time with each movement. I want to freak out at his words. Make love? That is a first to me. I fuck. I don’t make love.

I sit up and run my hands down his sculpted chest, still covered by his cut and long sleeved t-shirt. My fingers slip underneath the thin piece of leather, pushing it off his broad shoulders and letting it fall onto the floor. I pull at the hem of his shirt and slide it over his head. We stare at each other for a long moment before he shifts his weight and stands from the bed. As he turns to walk toward the dresser, I see it.

“I’m sorry, Star.” He turns to face me, ashamed, as he pulls the Glock handgun from its secure spot, tucked in the waistband of his jeans at the center of his back. He places it on the dresser and walks back to the bed. He’s wary, as if he expects me to turn him away. I wonder why he’s carrying a gun, but with his club involvement, I leave the subject alone. I don’t want to know, and I will turn a blind eye just to keep him here with me. He has imperfections, but so do I.

He climbs back up the bed, taking the same position he was in, draping over me. My hand cups his chin and I push my body up to meet his lips. It isn’t a rushed kiss; it is perfect. My lips graze his plump lower lip, pulling it between my teeth. My tongue traces his lip and his mouth begins to part, welcoming my tongue as it slips between his perfectly straight teeth. I lazily explore his mouth before pulling away, parting our lips with a series of chaste kisses. Neither of us want to stop. But we do before we end up in a frantic frenzy just like every other time we have ended up in an intimate situation.

My fingers trace down his six-pack abs, fingering the button of his jeans before popping it open and slowly pulling the zipper down. I wrap my fingers in the belt loops of his pants and tug downward. They slide over his ass and bunch up at his knees. He lifts his legs and kicks his pants down his legs until they hit the floor at the end of the bed. He hovers above me, wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer-briefs. His erection strains against the thin fabric separating our bodies.

His weight lifts and he lies down next to me on the bed. His hand rests on the side of my face, pushing my hair away from my eyes and tucking it behind my ear. He just stares, looking at me for minutes, not saying a single word. His eyes scan over every inch of my body, all the way down to my painted toenails. I start to feel self-conscious. Being naked in front of people doesn’t bother me; it was my job for years. But the way he is taking in every inch is getting to me.

“What?” I ask like a shy teenager. I can feel my face turning red.

“Don’t be shy, Cinderella. You are beautiful. I just want to take in every inch of you. Commit it to memory since I will be gone for a couple days.”

His finger traces along the outline of my panties, moving up my body and reaching around to unclasp my bra. His words move me. I want to cry, but not a hurt cry, or a wounded soul type thing. I want to hold on to him and never let him go. After. Three. Fucking. Days. He has turned my world upside down with a simple sentence, and I don’t fucking care anymore.

This is the closest to perfection I will ever get, and I am going to bask in every single minute of it. The bra straps slide down my arms, exposing my silicone-filled fake tits. They always seemed like an awesome idea, but being in such a real, intimate moment, I hate them. If Chrome has any kind of problem with them, I don’t know, because without skipping a beat, his hands start cherishing them.

Everything about him is so big, but my tits fit perfectly within his palms. He growls as he leans his head forward, taking my nipple into his mouth. I can feel my panties getting wet as he licks and sucks on my hard nipple before switching to the other. I moan under his touch as he continues to explore every inch of my voluminous breasts. His lips start trailing down my body, licking his way down to my waiting cunt.

His lips kiss from hip bone to hip bone, never missing a single inch of skin. His teeth bite the lace of my panties and slowly pull them down my smooth, pale legs. I lie naked in front of him. Completely exposed.

His lips brush against my clean shaved cunt as his fingers gently spread the aching lips. The air hits my clit and a shiver works through my body. His cool mouth feels exquisite on my hot pussy as he licks and teases. My body bucks off the bed as I try to hump his mouth. He sucks on my clit and I am virtually begging for him to fuck me so hard I see fucking stars. His tongue dips within my cunt and I just can’t take anymore. I let out a yelp and he backs away with a final lick.

“You are perfect.” His mouth trails lazily back up my body. I can’t help but ignore his movements and focus on his words. Perfect? No one has ever called me perfect. Ever. I have always been broken. But to him, I am perfect.

I moan under his touch. I can feel him rooting a place deep within my soul. I can feel us becoming one. It is extreme and unexpected. It is everything I never thought I could have with another person. It’s also too soon. Three days. But I can’t deny him. I can’t deny this.

He hovers above me, watching me. I can’t take it anymore. I need him in so many ways, but I just may die if he doesn’t bury his rock hard cock deep inside me. It is all I can think about. I smile and his lips part, returning the grin.

“Do you have protection?” I hate being a stickler for safe sex, but it has been instilled in me. I want nothing more than to feel him with no barriers but he is still a stranger to me. We know details, and emotional turmoil, but that’s it.

“In my pants. Hold on.”

He rises off the bed, standing tall. I take in the glorious body before me. Everything about him is perfect. Sculpted abs, gorgeous strong arms, perfect pierced cock. That’s when I notice it: a scar that sits right on his ribcage. I continue to stare while he makes his way back to the bed, laying over my body. I run my fingers down his torso, stopping as the pads of my fingers come in contact with the bumpy imperfection.

“It looks a lot worse than it was when it happened,” he offers as an explanation. I don’t want to pry. I nod and accept his answer, but he continues. “I got shot, probably about ten years ago.”

“I’m glad you are okay.”

I watch him with a lazy gaze while he rolls the latex down his cock. I stare at the piercing that has brought my cunt so much damn pleasure; I can’t wait to feel it inside me again. He positions himself at my wet pussy. I can feel the thick tip of his dick pressing against the opening as his eyes find their way up my body, stopping at my eyes. We lock stares, and he slowly starts to push inside of me. No hurry. I can feel every inch as he enters my waiting pussy.

“Mmmmm, Chrome.” I moan his name as I feel his dick bottom out inside me. His balls press firmly against my bare ass. He doesn’t move or thrust into me. He sits there for a minute, still staring into my eyes, silent. I want to say something, but no words could ever fit this moment. Our eyes dance back and forth with unspoken emotion, communicating to each other in the most intimate experience of my life.

He lets out a deep sigh and begins to thrust inside me. He pushes in and pulls out until his dick almost falls from my cunt before he presses back in with just a little more force and need than the previous pump. This goes on for what seems like forever; instead, it is only minutes.

I am panting under his sweating body, my hands exploring every rock hard inch from his ass to his smooth head. Up and down, not missing a piece of his glistening skin. He feels so good on top of me, inside me, all over me. His pace quickens, and he leans back on his muscular thighs, slightly switching positions. When he does this, his pierced dick presses against my sweet spot, and I can feel the orgasm building throughout my body. Each slide of the stud sends my body closer to my release, starting all the way at my hard nipples and rolling deep within my womb. I never thought a cock could feel this fucking good. God bless whoever pierced his dick!

His hands move from my tits, one bracing the back of my leg while the other rubs my clit. I can’t hold it back anymore. I try to, but it all just feels too fucking good. I let out a low moan as he continues to pump into me.

“Fuck! Right there, big boy. Shit! I’m gonna…” I trail off and the wave of pleasure crashes over me. My cunt sprays his dick as he slams into me one last time with his own rough release.

“Fuck, Star. Goddamn it. You feel so fucking good.” His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. He slowly lowers his body onto mine, blanketing me in his warmth. He rolls to the side, pulling me with his body, but never pulling his dick from within me. We lie in bed connected like this for a while. His runs his fingers through my hair and holds me as close as our bodies can go. I feel myself starting to nod off when he shifts under me, pulling his softening cock out, and making his way for the bathroom. I really should do the same, but I don’t want to move. I just want to fall asleep.

He returns from the bathroom, minus the condom, and cleans me in the most tender way possible before he picks me up from the bed and pulls the covers back. He tucks me in. I fully expect him to get dressed and leave me for the night. Instead, still completely naked, he walks around to the other side of the bed and pulls the sheets back, joining me under the covers. He slides under the sheets and pulls me into his arms. I snuggle up to him. He is like a giant fucking teddy bear, all for my personal use.

He sprawls out on his back, and I lay my head on his chest. His arm wraps around me, and I just lie there listening to the beating of his heart. It’s something I have never done with another soul, and it comforts me. The beating of his heart lulls me to sleep.

Just as I am about to drift off, he places a kiss on my forehead and whispers into my ear,

“Goodnight, my angel.”

His fingers run through my hair one last time, his arm tightens against my naked body, and we drift off to sleep together. Wrapped in each other’s naked limbs, without a fucking care in the world.

I wake a few times throughout the night, firmly wrapped in Chrome’s arms. He never moves, never lets go, and, for the first time in my life, I feel completely safe. Safety, something I have always craved, is completely mine. The thought of him leaving tomorrow almost breaks me, but the reassurance that he will be back in a few days helps me to keep my shit together. When did I become that girl?

I will myself back to sleep, and don’t wake again until I feel him move under me and I realize someone’s phone is vibrating within the room.