by Mj Hendrix
The car finally inches under the awning in front of the enormous off-white structure. I shove cash at the driver, not waiting to hear the amount. I slam the door of the yellow car, racing inside the open automatic doors.
“Hello, miss. I’m looking for my friend Harley Kain. She was brought in an ambulance and—”
“Adam!” a voice calls from a few feet away.
I turn to see an old man in a bright red shirt with yellow flowers. He smiles at me, walking up.
“Thought that was probably you. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy. She’s all right.” He claps me on the shoulder, his face still grinning like it’s a holiday.
“Where is she?”
I stand up straighter, trying to remind myself this guy helped lock up a dangerous man, but his nonchalant attitude is grating on my ability to maintain polite behavior.
He starts walking, waving me after him. “She’s really okay. Had to call the ambulance because she passed out and knocked her head against the counter. They have her under observation. She was a little dehydrated.”
The elevator takes an eternity but eventually opens up.
“She sure is a brave little thing though. Held a gun straight at my head before I told her who I was.” He smirks at me as my stomach drops.
Why did she have a gun?
“Don’t worry; that part won’t make it into the report.” He winks at me as we finally reach the fifth floor.
“I’m heading to the station to start on this paperwork, but she’ll need to make a statement before you two head back to Texas. Can you bring her in tomorrow?” He’s leading me down the hallway, finally reaching her room.
I nod, my hand already pressing on the door handle. I force myself to let go, stretching it instead toward him. He grips it, both squeezing hard like real men do.
“Thank you, Detective.” I’m suddenly choked up, thinking about what could’ve happened if Harley had a gun when he arrived.
He nods, winks again, and turns on his heel, heading back toward the elevator.
I click open the handle, stepping into the dark room.
Her raven hair is fanned out on the white pillow, a needle stabbing into a butterfly wing on her arm. Her eyes are closed.
Seeing her alive after so much worry and fear brings on a sudden, intense wave of relief. I’m weak with emotion as I stumble toward her, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her hand.
“Thank you, Jesus. Thank you,” I whisper, cradling her delicate fingers.
I don’t want to wake her, so I resist pulling her entire body into the crushing hug that I desperately need. I lift the chair from the corner and place it as close to her bed as possible, sitting down next to her.
This is the first time I’ve gotten to look at her and truly study her. I’ve always been drawn to her, ever since the first moment she crossed my path on campus. I resisted looking at her, like I have a lot of beautiful women. I was taught to never view females as objects for my own gratification. My parents aren’t perfect, but the value of women was something instilled in me as a young boy. It’s something every parent should teach their sons.
Harley was no exception, but at the same time, not looking at her was nearly impossible. Once I started to really know her, I was gone. She was so…sad. She feigned indifference, but somehow, I could sense her lack of joy for life. I kept finding myself wanting to catch her smiles and hold them in my fingers, so I could look at them whenever I wanted. She was always radiant, but when she smiled, she was the essence of light, blinding. Even from a distance, her smile could make my heart leap.
Now, her face is relaxed, full peach lips slightly parted as she breathes. Her dark lashes lie on her cheeks, pale and beautiful. Her neck is inviting, and I know if I leaned in to whisper in her ear, I would smell sweet apple pie.
When I saw her at the beach party, I nearly had to physically run from her. I was at war within myself, questioning my own motive to get to know her. In my mind, the only feasible reason a girl could be so beautiful was for destruction. Young men weren’t meant to drink from a honeysuckle, lest they get stung.
Yet she was my siren, beckoning me closer each time we were in the same vicinity. I’d never wavered from the teachings from my youth, but even now, as I still believe most of it, I know there were great faults within the instruction.
Her body is not a stumbling block. Her body is a temple, and I want to worship it every day for the rest of my existence. That fact alone riddles my mind with guilt, but then I remember that’s not all I want.
Her laugh is my favorite sound.
Her scent is a blessing that overwhelms me.
Her thoughts, I crave to know.
When she left me today…I nearly broke in half. My heart was shattered, and I’m still wavering on the uncertainty of why she did it. I swore that if she told me to my face that she no longer wanted me…I could walk away. But I had to see her safe. I know he hurt her, but she was so young. Even when she told me the sickening story of her tragic childhood, she seemed confused. Like she didn’t want to paint Seven or Victoria as the demons they clearly were.
I’m in love with her, and I told her in a stupid letter. This morning in class seems like an eternity ago.
Or was it yesterday? I know it’s nearly midnight or past it.
It must have terrified her. She slept with me, and I have no real idea how it went for her. Then, I went screaming my love in her face the next day.
She ran from me, and I can’t blame her. I wish there were someone I could ask about sex, but aside from Harley, anyone else I trust enough to broach the subject with is less experienced than I am now.
Was it so bad that she would literally rather be with an abusive ex-convict who’s twenty-four years older than her?
I’m beginning to panic as my thoughts spiral down. I rise, so I can pace the room.
Several minutes later, I abandon my agitated circling and sit next to her motionless form. I lay my head down on her hand again, pressing it to my skin as I drift off to sleep.
It’s still dark in the room when I lift my head. I see round windows of blue sky staring at me.
She lets out a raspy sigh, a tear dripping over her cheek.
I instinctively reach over to wipe it away, and her hand reaches up to hold mine to her face. She presses a kiss to my palm.
“You came,” she whispers, more tears trailing down.
I start to feel hope again at her words. I lean toward her, caressing her cheek with my thumb.
“Of course I came.” I swallow over the lump crowding my esophagus.
She reaches both arms out, and I immediately crush her to me, careful not to pull on the IV. She sniffles on my shoulder for several seconds.
“I love you too, Adam. I’m so sorry I left,” she breathes the most beautiful words into my ear, all my fears melting away.
My heart is leaping inside of me, and if I thought sex was incredible, this moment is absolutely euphoric.
“I love you so much, Harley,” I choke out. I pull her even tighter before slowly releasing.
She wipes her tears, lips slightly curving upward. She scoots over on the bed, and I sit next to her, my arm over her shoulders.
“I thought I could fix it. I thought if I let him…finish the Medusa, he would leave me alone,” she says quietly.
I bring my finger to her lips. “You don’t have to explain anything. He’s gone now. He’ll be put away for a long time.” I’m caressing her cheek, incapable of not touching her skin. “But if you…want to talk about it, I’ll always listen. I…if he hurt you, I think I might need to ask for a moment alone with him.”
If the authorities let me, I would absolutely rip his body to shreds.
She quickly shakes her head. “The cop got there before…before we even started. I was…panicking, and I knew where he kept the guns. Actually, isn’t there some kind of charge for holding a gun on a detective?”
It’s my turn to shake my head. Her hand is grabbing at
my waist, but the small physical contact isn’t nearly enough.
“No, he said it won’t be in the report. You were defending yourself.”
I pull her toward me, and she must feel the same because she abandons her place on the bed, crawling out of the covers to straddle my lap. I sigh indulgently, reaching around to grab her waist before I realize the hospital gown is slit up the back.
My finger makes contact with her warm, bare skin at the top of her butt cheek, and I suck in a breath.
Her smile is devious, like she knew it would happen. She leans into me, dipping her face down. The positive reaction from her fuels my action, and I indulge in the feel of her backside in my hands fully. Very few things feel better than this, and the ones that do all involve Harley.
She’s a breath away from me now, and I press a kiss to her lips. She’s delicious, opening to me immediately. My tongue is exploring her mouth in the next moment, and her fingers have started tracing my earlobe.
My hands are still gripping her from behind, the rest of her body flush with mine but separated by too much fabric.
After a few more seconds of sliding tongues and hungry lips, I pull back, panting.
“I cannot have sex with you in a hospital bed,” I say, forcing myself to move my hands away from her butt and close the gown around her.
“Why not?” she asks, leaning down again to try to resume the kiss.
“Because…”
She changes course, finding my earlobe instead. Her teeth scrape over it, sending shivers through me. I grip her tighter.
“Because you…you were…hurt,” I finally get out as she continues to tease me with her torturous movements on my lap.
All I can think about is the moment with her body writhing under me in my dorm room, and I’m about to give in when the door opens, flooding the room with light.
“Moving on already, darling?” an amused female voice speaks from the threshold.
The change in Harley is instant, her body turning to ice. She doesn’t move off of me or turn around.
“Hello, Ma.”
35
Harley
Adam’s eyes widen a fraction as he looks behind me at the door. He’s never one to dismiss or treat anyone without kindness and respect. He looks back into my eyes, his hands having strayed respectfully to my waist.
He watches me closely as he eases me off of his lap onto the side of the bed. Victoria has stepped farther into the room, laying her black Hermès handbag on the bench to the side. She's dressed to perfection in slimming leather pants and a flared red wraparound top.
I see she’s adopted yet a new look, a persona that I’m sure won’t last more than a year when she reinvents her image. She looks like one of those ridiculous women who can’t accept her age gracefully, always fighting for the youth that has already spoiled.
Her face is fuller than the last time I saw her, but it’s not from weight gain, as her legs are as pencil thin as ever. The taut skin on her forehead shines in the light she flicked on when she barged into the room.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is cold.
Adam has slowly risen from the bed, approaching my foster mother. She looks him over, raising her eyebrows as much as she can.
“I can’t come see my daughter in the hospital? Well, well, well,” she coos, stretching out a hand, palm down, like she’s some kind of royalty, “who might this handsome devil be? You’re like…the star of a country music video, if it was porn.” She laughs at her own joke as Adam shakes her hand slowly.
“My name is Adam,” he says, but I notice he doesn’t tack on the usual it’s nice to meet you bit. His back is tense.
“Adam, I’m very pleased to be meeting you. How long have you been screwing my daughter?” she quips.
I rush to speak before he has time to respond. “What’s up? Why are you really here?” I purposefully insert annoyance into my tone.
Adam has turned back to me, his face hard.
Victoria’s hands go on her narrow hips, her face morphing into one that is far more familiar to me—cruel. “Well, you’ve gone and had Seven thrown back into jail, I hear. Lenny is throwing an absolute fit, demanding his share of the profits from the photo shoot that hasn’t happened yet.” She matches my tone now, dropping the act of feigning any concern at all for my well-being.
“Well, it can’t happen, seeing as the tattoo was never finished,” I snap. My patience with her long run out. “And Lenny can go have himself poked with needles until he passes out for all I care. So can you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, turning my head out the window. Adam is standing by the bed, his hand reaching out to hold mine on the sheets. I grip it until my knuckles go white.
Then, it happens—she morphs once again. She slowly approaches the bed, and I feel Adam gripping my hand tighter. My fight-or-flight instincts ignite, but I force myself to be still.
“Oh, darling, I’m really only worried about you here. You signed a contract. Lenny is demanding his cut. He could sue you. My share as your guardian is really irrelevant. I’m just concerned for your future.”
She dares to reach out a hand to awkwardly pat my arm, but I shrink away from her toward Adam.
This is how she does it. Any possible way to scare or manipulate me into complying is fair game. She once threatened to send my four-year-old foster brother back to his abusive family, and I was young enough to believe she could do it. I lived in the shadow of fear from her manipulation for so long. I couldn’t see it until I was out. It’s like a veil has been lifted from my eyes.
I turn toward her, my jaw set. “I’ve hired a lawyer. Adam has money, plenty of it. His family owns a huge farm in Texas. Lenny can try whatever he wants, but I’m not a scared little girl anymore. I’m not your whore, getting nearly naked to pose and expose my body to the world. You can go to fucking hell.” I nearly spit the last words at her face, and she jolts back.
I’ve never spoken to her that way. After the first time I tried to push back at her insistence for a photo shoot in lingerie when I was fifteen, she starved me for three days. It was during the summer, so I didn’t even get a school lunch.
I can’t say it’s all me, although I can feel the strength and determination I’ve grown since being away from her. Adam standing behind me and grasping my hand is helping to fuel my fight against the monster who raised me.
Her eyes are wide, her expression hard to read with all the work she’s had done.
“You…you can’t do this to me, Harley. I won’t have enough income without your modeling! When you ran away, I had to start selling my handbags. People don’t even understand their worth and—”
“Ma’am, you need to leave now,” Adam finally says, his voice authoritative. “She said what she needed to say to you. Now, it’s time for you to go.”
He starts to walk toward Victoria, who begins backing away from his much larger frame.
Her voice turns desperate as she pleads with him, backing toward the door in her stilettos, “You don’t get it. I took her in when no one would. I fed her, clothed her, started her in a thriving business as an orphan with nothing!” She turns to me now, her face completely turned to malice, eyes blazing. “You’re an ungrateful little whore!”
Adam physically herds her out the door, slamming it once she is finally out. He pivots back to me, slowly approaching the bed. Without a word, he climbs in next to me, gathering me into his big, strong arms, and holds me tight against him.
I let him cuddle me with his addictive warmth and cedar scent. Tears begin to trace a path down my cheeks. I don’t know why they’re there, except that maybe the only mother I’ve ever known is finally out of my life for good.
I’m glad she is, but at the same time, my lonely orphan heart is still cracked open and bleeding.
He doesn’t say a word, and I’m so thankful. What could possibly be said after that? She’s a true monster, abusing and controlling children for her own selfish gain.
I fi
nally feel the ability to speak returning to me. “When are we going back?” I’m ready to be home.
He leans back slightly, looking at my face as he brushes my tangled hair back from my face with care. “We…have to go to the police station, so you can give a statement. If you want to wait another day…”
I wave him off. “No, no, I’m fine. Let’s go get it over with.”
The orange brick exterior of the police station in Carbona brings back unpleasant memories. I’ve been brought in here for petty theft a few more times than I’d like to admit.
I glance at Adam, and he’s cool and relaxed. He’s probably the first boyfriend I’ve had who hasn’t seen the dashboard of a cop car from the backseat.
We climb out of the taxi after he insists on paying for it.
“Let me take care of you today, please?” he says as he reaches for my hand.
We’re both exhausted after a night in the hospital, but at least I got to shower this morning.
I give him a side-eye as we climb the steps.
“What if they arrest me?” I pull to a stop, letting go of his hand and crossing my arms.
He looks back, his forehead creased. “He said he wouldn’t worry about it. You were defending yourself—”
I cut him off, “I wasn’t talking about the gun. I was talking about all the petty theft charges and…”
His eyes widen a bit as he gapes at me from the step above.
“I’m technically still…maybe…a runaway.” I pause.
He starts to speak, “But you’re—”
“Seventeen.” I hold my breath after the admission, watching for his reaction. I signed the e-forms for the dorms and my classes with Victoria’s signature. I stole her social security and driver’s license numbers. The rest was a cake walk.
He jerks back slightly, looking over my mature body littered in tattoos, face in absolute shock, eyes wide.
“Maybe they’ll…arrest me,” he chokes out.
I bark out a laugh. “Why would they arrest you?”
I take another step back, my head beginning to ache. I press a hand to the tender spot on the side, hidden under my thick hair.
