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.