by Mj Hendrix
“Adam?” she asks after several beats of silence.
“You…if you could try to not move so much, I think I’ll be…better able to teach you this,” I finally say.
“You know, it’s okay for you to be into this, right?” she says, turning back to look at me. “I’m into it too.” She’s whispering now, which really isn’t helping.
“I want to respect you, always,” I say hoarsely.
“You can respect me and still want me.” A smile ghosts her lips. “We’ve officially been on a date now.” Her eyes twinkle as she says it.
It dawns on me that she might be more into this than I realized. My hands lift off the wheel, squeezing around her waist.
“I like you…so much. I haven’t told you that, have I? I want to be with you,” I confess, swallowing over the lump of more vulnerable truth stuck in my throat. I can’t overwhelm her now.
She blinks at me, licking her lips. “I like you too. I want to…keep learning how to drive and talk more about this after.” She kisses my lips quickly before turning back around. “How do we go forward?”
I heave a sigh, forcing my mind back to the driving lesson.
“So, next, we have to let go of the brakes but keep the clutch down. Since we’re already in gear, you slowly release the clutch while pressing on the gas. You want to balance them like a seesaw.”
She mimics my movements, like we’re glued together. Our bodies are formed as one, skin flushed and lightly sticking in a way that speeds my heart up.
We start to move forward, and I press down more on the gas. The engine gets louder.
“You hear that? Now, it’s time to shift into second.”
She nods, her soft ebony hair tickling my cheek.
“Press the clutch again and let go of the gas, then shift the gear to the two.” Our arms move as one, the stick shift beneath my hand and hers on top of mine. “Let go of the clutch and press the gas again,” I say into her ear, her green apple scent overcoming my already-overloaded senses.
She’s not responding, but her fingers are interlaced with mine on the steering wheel, her legs overlaid on my knees. My mouth is near her cheek, and I lean in to kiss her.
“Do you want to try it by yourself?”
She shakes her head, and I’m shamefully grateful. I need to touch more of her. She must feel the same because her back presses into me, our bodies like skin and a skeleton. I demonstrate shifting into third and back down into second as we get back to our spot.
“You hungry?” I ask once we are in silence.
She doesn’t respond at first. Her face is pressed into my neck, my body resting against the seat. I cradle her against me, my arms covering hers. She’s caressing my palm with her fingertips, and I see a tear slip down her cheek.
“I want to tell you about Seven.” Her voice is hoarse.
I don’t move, waiting for her to continue.
“I have to start before I met him for it to make sense.” She lets out a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to wipe under her eye.
Then, she begins, “I was put in foster care when I was seven. My mom was always gone, but it was worse when she was home. Finally, she left and just…didn’t come back. I ran out of food, but the apartment manager found me when they came to evict us.” She shifts her body, letting out a shaky sigh.
“Anyways, I got put in foster care. Sometimes, it wasn’t bad. At least I always had food and clean clothes. When I was nine, one family even kind of loved me, I think.” She smiles. “They had this tradition where they had family night every Friday. They made junk food, and we binged kid or superhero movies until midnight. It was awesome. That’s why I love The Princess Bride. We watched it the first Friday I lived there. They were from Texas.”
I’m holding her so tight, and I force myself to relax my muscles, so I don’t accidentally crush her.
“Then, the dad got a job here, and they couldn’t take their foster kids with them to another state. It sucked. I’d lived there almost a year. The best year of my life. I think that’s what made me apply to Ole Tex.” She grips me tighter, pausing for a few seconds.
“The next family wasn’t bad, but then the mom got pregnant. Once you hit twelve…the nice families just don’t want you. They think the older kids are going to hurt theirs or pull a knife at school. One would lock me up after I got home from school. They’d have peanut butter and crackers in my room, but I just had to sit in there alone.” She’s telling the story like it’s about someone else now, like the memories aren’t hers. It feels like she’s reading a book to me, and she’s bored with it.
“When I hit fourteen, I went to the worst family yet. The dad would stare at me…all the time. He finally came to my room one night, but he just sat there and watched me sleep. I ran away the next day, just got off the bus with some girl I’d made friends with in the lunch line. She let me stay the night at her house, but then I slept in playground slides for two weeks. This young mom found me early one Saturday and called CPS. That’s when…Victoria picked me.” Her voice goes cold.
“She was a former pageant queen, but she was over fifty and washed up. She’s the closest thing to a real mom I ever had. She…entered me in contests. At first, they were for big stores, but I was so shy. I hated the camera on me, hated having to smile at it. She’d get so angry…then she put me on this diet. She always wanted me to be skinnier, to fit into size zero jeans. I ate a few cubes of cheese and grapes every day.”
She’s playing with my hand, bending my fingers down gently, then spreading them back out. She traces the jagged scar I got from the combine blade.
“The weird part was that I wanted to do it for her. She would buy me designer clothes, jewelry, take me to get my hair and nails done. She constantly raved about my complexion and my eyes and how beautiful she thought I was.
“Then, she met this guy at a modeling agency, and he was looking for a tattoo model. His client wanted ‘fresh skin,’ he said. They made some kind of deal, and I signed a contract. I was fifteen when they started on me. The first artist refused to do it when he saw me—he knew I wasn’t old enough. Of course, with Victoria’s permission, it was technically legal, but he still didn’t want to. I was so relieved when we left, but she was fuming. She thought it was because I wasn’t pretty or skinny enough.”
She sighs, pausing for several long breaths. My head is pounding as the story continues. The discomfort in my chest gets worse with each passing moment.
“Anyways, I didn’t eat for a week. That’s when the agent, Lenny, found Sev. Sev was just out of prison, but apparently, he was the up-and-coming artist of Carbona. He needed a fresh model to brand. So, he did. The problem with Sev was…” She trails off, struggling to continue.
My stomach is tight, and I force the nausea down. I don’t want to know, but I know she needs to talk about it.
She lets out another sigh. “He would do ten-hour sessions with short breaks. I would always pass out around hour three, then wake up around five, pass out again. Victoria said it was just because I was anemic. He paid well, I guess.” She pauses for a second, and I adjust my hold on her arms.
“At first, he didn’t talk to me much, but then it was like he got…really invested in it. He’d hold me everywhere while he was working on me, his hands always…roaming…”
She breaks off, snuggling her nose into my chest, and I kiss the top of her head. My hands are shaking, my insides burning like a house fire.
“I applied for Ole Tex at the school library computers, but I never told Victoria. I didn’t know if I would even go. Once my body was covered in ink, what would they want with me? I did so many photo shoots, but I knew eventually, there’d be no new canvas to color on. Then, it happened. He tried to have sex with me one night while he was working on the Medusa.”
She lifts up her shirt to show me the woman with the thick cartoon hair.
“I said no, and he told me he knew I was in love with him too. It was like he’d created some idea of us being tog
ether in his mind. He…I think he was going to force it, so I ran while he was outside, smoking.
“Now that I’ve been gone, it’s like little fractions of truth light up in my head every day. Victoria didn’t love me; I made her money. Sev was just obsessed, but he never saw me as a real person, just an idea of the one he wanted. Lenny wanted money too…but now, they’ve found me. I broke off the contract, and they want me to come finish it. I don’t even know what the legal side of things is…but I had already been paid for the first half of the session, and they never got the photographs. Most of the money always went to Victoria and Lenny. I barely got anything. Victoria’s saying I stole from her—they all are. I don’t think Sev cares about the money. He just wants me back.”
She forces out a long sigh, and I loosen my hold on her. She sits up a little, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel.
“You don’t have to go back, Harley. You know that, right?” My voice is surprisingly controlled.
My emotions are a whirl of rage, sickness, and compassion. My gaze is intense on her face. I have to help her understand that she doesn’t owe them anything. I want to hold her, keep her safe for the rest of time.
I also want to tear several men limb from limb with my bare hands.
She looks back at me, her eyes red-rimmed. “But I broke the contract, and they won’t leave me alone until I do. They know where I am, and there’s no way he’ll give up.” She’s crying more now, the tears forming trails down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do, Adam.” She hiccups, crying more and shattering my heart with her words. “I’m s-so scared.”
I draw her to me, and her face presses into my shoulder as her body shakes.
“You will never be alone again. I’m going to protect you. You have nothing to worry about anymore. I’m here, and I’m not leaving,” I murmur into her ear, rocking gently. My hands brush over her head as I plan my next move.
31
Harley
“He’s dangerous, Adam. Sev has been to prison. I think he was in a gang.”
I pull back after crying all the moisture from my body. I reach for the bottle of water in the bag of food, gulping it down.
“I’m not going to go fight him, although that is tempting.” He flexes his jaw, looking out the window at the darkness. His voice softens. “Thank you for telling me…I know that wasn’t easy.”
His honey gaze swings back to me, immediately calming my nerves. I know he can’t heal my trauma, but he is helping me learn to cope with it by being trustworthy and a good listener.
“I’m still learning my own…history. It’s all I’ve ever known, and almost every day, a new bad memory surfaces that I didn’t think about before as…bad.”
I bite into my lip, overwhelmed with my vulnerability. He thinks for a moment, looking down at our hands.
“It will probably take a while to heal from it all. You can talk to me about any of it, but maybe you should see someone who…knows how to help you heal. I think my church has counselors.” He’s squeezing my hand. “If you want me to, I’ll ask about it.”
I nod. I don’t think I can talk to a stranger about this.
His lips curve slightly. “Let’s start trying to…fill the space with better ones,” he suggests, his voice unsure.
“You’ve already been doing that, almost every day since I met you.” I lean in as my eyes dip down to his lips.
A tiny groan escapes him. “Let’s hold off on that, or we’ll never get to the next part.”
He smiles, opening the door.
I climb out, my legs stiff after sitting so long. “What’s the next part?”
I stretch my arms overhead. He leans into the truck, turning the key enough to play the radio and shine the headlights into the darkening field. He tunes it to a station claiming to play the best Texas country.
“Okay, you ready?” He grins, holding out a hand to me, biceps flexing under his T-shirt sleeves.
I grab it, really not sure where he’s going with this.
He twirls me around, my body crashing into his with a fit of laughter.
“Whoa! Sorry, I’m still learning. Follow my lead, okay?”
One of my favorite Chris Stapleton songs starts to play. Kenna forces me to listen to country music in her Jeep, but it has grown on me.
Adam gently guides me through the steps of a dance I’ve never done. He starts in a two-step but throws in all kinds of moves he definitely didn’t know at the sorority social. I’m twirling around him, the headlights stretching our shadows out like stick figures.
“Where did you learn how to do this?” I exclaim, breathless as he dips me down, my hair brushing the ground.
“I started taking lessons during my lunch breaks,” he says, pulling me closer.
“You’re kidding…that was your mysterious ‘appointment’? Dancing lessons?” I laugh out loud, throwing my head back. “Why?”
He hesitates for a moment, a gentle tempo bringing us back to the simple, slow dance. He holds me tighter, hands gripping my lower back.
“You said you love to dance.” He looks down at me, eyes focusing in on my mouth.
My heart does a little leap. “You took dancing lessons for me?” I whisper.
He presses his forehead to mine, the music swirling around us.
“I…I guess I hoped I’d get another chance to hold you like this.” His deep voice is barely audible.
We sway in the headlights. A new song plays, then another after that. My arms tighten around his neck, my head cradled on his shoulder. I sigh into the blissful sensation of being held, cherished by strong arms.
Will he really be able to protect me from my haunting past?
I push the intrusive thoughts aside, refusing to let them spoil this night.
We finally make our way over to the cab, and I drowsily climb in. I’m drifting in and out of sleep before we even pull onto the highway.
The sensation of being lifted, my body suspended and moving over the ground, is all I feel. Cedar fills my nostrils, my cheek pressed into warm cotton. Something dings, but I can’t force my eyes open to see what. My legs briefly press against cool stone, but then a door clicks open, darkness enveloping me as I’m gently laid onto a soft bed.
“Stay.” I fist the cotton, pulling it toward me.
“I will, baby, always.” He lies down next to me, arms caging me into a sanctuary.
Momster: You’d better be here for your appointment with Seven. He’s willing to overlook the late fees for the scheduled shoot, which is a blessing, Harley. After all I’ve done for you, I can’t believe running away is how you repay me!
Unblocking Victoria was a mistake.
Why can’t she leave me alone to live in peace? Is it really so crucial that I let Sev finish the Medusa? I told him I would pay him back, but he insists I have to finish the session. My skin crawls when I think of having his hands on me again, but I feel like it’s the only way to leave my past behind me once and for all.
Adam nuzzles my neck from behind, his sleepy grunts making me smile. It’s early morning, and I feel his stubbled jaw rubbing over my skin.
“Come to church with me,” he says, his breath warm on my sensitive ear.
I try not to let the tensing of my muscles be obvious. Several moments of silence crawl by as sunlight begins to stretch in through the window.
“I don’t really fit in at church,” I say quietly, holding my breath.
I tried going the first week I was here, hoping they’d have some kind of free meal afterward. The family I’d lived with from Texas had gone to church, and sometimes, they would have food. I was gawked at by nearly everyone, and several older women shook their heads. No one spoke to me.
“You don’t have to go, but I think you would fit in at our church. There’s some other people with tattoos, actually.” He kisses the inked outline of a skull on my shoulder.
“I…I have a relationship with God. When I was with that family that cared about me, they took us every Sun
day. I’ve never felt peace like that anywhere else. I know I’ve done a lot of bad, but I know…I’m forgiven.”
I wiggle around to face him. He’s beaming at me, a smile so big his face is nearly split in half.
“What?” I ask, mimicking his smile on my face.
He looks down, intertwining our fingers. “I just…I didn’t know. I’m so glad. It’s important to me…you’re important to me.”
He brings my hand up to pepper my knuckles with kisses. It’s surreal to be in this bed with him. I wish I had a camera in my mind to snap an eternal memory of us twisted in the sheets, fully enraptured with each other.
A head of tangled blonde-red hair flips over the side of the bed, pink cheeks beaming on an upside-down face.
“You guys are so adorable. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d hate your guts for being so annoyingly happy.” Kenna flashes us a grin as wide as her face.
“You’ll be here soon enough. We’ll crack his shell. I have an in now.” I wiggle my brows at her, and she groans dramatically.
“Ugh, I wish.” She rolls her eyes, her face getting redder as she hangs upside down. “I’ve given up.” She flips back out of sight.
Adam looks at me, brow creased. “Crack whose shell?” His fingers draw up my arms, leaving tiny sparks in their wake.
“Mmmm, you really don’t know?” I ask, quirking a brow at him as Kenna climbs down the side of the bunk.
“Okay, Adam, now that you and my bestie are official—wait, you guys are official now, right?” she asks, sitting cross-legged at our feet.
A pang of anxiety stabs me in the belly as the word HARLOT flashes in my mind. Adam still doesn’t know why I left the campsite.
He squeezes me closer, a kiss from his soft lips on my ear tingling down my neck.
“She’s mine. I’ll never let anyone hurt her,” he says, confidence and a hint of violence in his tone.
Kenna squeals, clapping her hands. “Okay! That’s what I needed to hear. So, Levi”—her tone is immediately serious, green eyes wide—“what’s the deal? Is there, like, a girl back home I need to know about? You said he’s not gay, but seriously, why won’t he give me even just a tiny shred of attention? I know at this point, it’s just the appeal of what I can’t have, but I’m going insane.” She blows air from her lungs like she just gave a speech at the Oscars.
