“Hi,” I shouted, trying to drown out Alex’s cries. “Jason, this is Bea. Beatrice, this is Jason.”
Bea flashed me an approving smile, while Jason shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. He walked over and smiled at me, melting away all my nervousness. Alex squealed at the top of his lungs again.
“Hi, there,” he said.
“Hey,” I replied. “He’s teething.”
“That explains the fever yesterday,” he said, smiling down at him.
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Any fever today?” He asked, putting his hand on his head.
“No, he’s okay, it’s just the teeth,” he said.
“Hey Alex, I’m Jason,” he said, smiling into his eyes.
Alex reached up and touched his nose, looking him over.
“May I?” Jason asked, putting his hands out. I nodded and handed Alex to him. Alex stopped crying right away, smiling, enchanted with Jason.
“Hey buddy, you have a tooth coming in?”
Alex nodded and opened his mouth, pointing to it and smiling again.
My mouth opened in shock. I’d never seen him so relaxed with another person.
“Well, that’s interesting,” I said, shaking my head.
“Babies love me,” Jason said, shrugging.
“I can see that,” I said, laughing.
“Ready to go?” He asked, shifting Alex to his hip like it was the most natural thing to do.
“Sure,” I nodded. “I have an old car seat we can use this time.”
“Oh, I’ve still got the one from yesterday. We can use it as long as we need to. Or want to. Or, you know…” His voice trailed off and Beatrice gave me a strange look. I stood frozen and awkward until she nudged me.
“Right.” I picked up the diaper bag and we made our way outside. I lagged behind, watching as he put Alex in his car seat that we could apparently have forever without trying to think about what that meant.
My head was a mess, I realized. I needed to calm down.
Dinner. It was just dinner.
I turned back to look at Beatrice and she was standing in the door, her eyes glued to Jason as he buckled Alex in. I shook my head at her, and she looked over at me with wide eyes. A huge smile spread across her face and she nodded enthusiastically, giving me a discrete thumbs up.
“Have fun,” she said, flashing me a wink.
“I’ll be home by curfew,” I said.
“Nobody cares about that,” she said. “Just text me if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I said, turning away, understanding her unspoken message. Jason might be kind and gentle and successful, but none of those things guaranteed that I might not need my friend later.
I took a deep breath and slid onto Jason’s front seat next to Alex, waiting for Jason and his thigh to join me. He slid behind the wheel and I realized the scent I’d picked up the first time was definitely coming from him.
“Old spice?” I asked.
He looked over at me in surprise.
“Guilty,” he said. “I can’t help it. My old man used it. I inherited the habit, I guess.”
I nodded and smiled.
“I wish I could have met him,” I said.
“Oh, man, he would have loved you,” he replied, his smile lighting across his face. “He had a thing for red heads.”
“I see,” I said. “Did you inherit that habit, too?”
He laughed, his entire face glowing.
“I suppose I did,” he said.
I smiled with him and settled into the seat. He pulled out of the driveway and we sped off into the evening, thighs bumping.
“So, where are we going?”
“Well, how do you feel about picnics?”
“Picnics?” I asked, laughing. “I love them!”
“Excellent, I was hoping you’d say that. I have everything all packed and ready to go in the back.”
“That’s perfect,” I said, my nervousness about Alex crying in a quiet restaurant fading away.
“And I know a perfect place to go, too,” he said. “Unless you had something else in mind?”
“No, this is great,” I said. “Thank you for going to all that trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” he said. He reached over and patted my hand, before pulling his away. And yet, all the way through downtown I could still feel his touch on my hand. We both ignored the inevitable thigh rub. He was quiet as he drove, and thankfully, so was Alex. I watched the world fly by out the windshield, sinking into the soft leather seats of the truck.
After a few minutes we were headed around downtown, high up on the bridge, the skyline towering in the distance. It wouldn’t get dark for a few more hours, but the sun was slowly setting over the river, sending ribbons of pink and purple and gold over the shimmering water.
“It’s such a lovely view from up here,” I said.
“Not as lovely as you,” he whispered, his words slow and sincere and gentle, piercing my heart. I bit my lip, unsure of what to say, how to reply, knowing that whatever I decided on would surely be wrong, so I kept them inside, slowly looking over at him and smiling. It was the only thing I trusted myself to do.
Me? Lovely? I searched my brain, trying to remember if anyone had ever described me as lovely before and I came up with a big fat no. I’d been called many, many things, but a word as soft and gentle as ‘lovely’? Never.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The night was so young, and I had to get through an entire evening with a man who just called me lovely, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I felt like I was on a brand new planet.
A few seconds later, Jason exited and drove down Burnside, zigzagging over to Vista Road, leading up to Washington Park.
“Didn’t you say you lived up here?” I asked, a flutter of nervousness hitting me. I’d not agreed to go to his house and suddenly I wondered if that’s where he was taking me, the mistrust creeping back up in my voice.
“Yep. I know this park like the back of my hand. There’s a special little spot that I try to pretend is all my own. I think it’s perfect for our picnic.”
“Sounds good,” I said, nodding, relaxing.
He parked on a side street and jumped out, retrieving our dinner from the bed of the truck, which much to my surprise, was packed in a real wicker picnic basket with a red and white checkered cloth peeking out of the sides. I retrieved a very excited Alex from his car seat and we headed to the park.
Jason led us down a path near the water reservoir, then back up a small hill to a charming little grassy spot. Hidden from the trail by a lush ring of bright blue hydrangea bushes, the blooms formed a wall around us, towering at least twelve feet in the air.
“What a magical little spot,” I said, smiling widely. The hydrangeas were in full bloom and I sat down on the black and turquoise Pendleton blanket Jason spread out, feeling like I was in some kind of fairy tale.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice warm and comforting. I let Alex down on the ground and he began walking around, exploring the bushes around us. Jason’s tanned, muscular forearms flexed as he pulled the food from the basket.
“I made slow-roasted, beef sandwiches and potato salad from scratch, and I picked up some grapes and brie and a bottle of wine.”
“Impressive,” I nodded approvingly.
“I’ve impressed you already?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “The night is still young.”
“Bring it on,” I laughed.
“Well, I was going to pick you two up on my Harley, but I didn’t want to scare you away too soon.”
“Oh, that’s right!” I said. “You mentioned your friends are bikers. The Gods, is that what you called them?”
“Well, I didn’t tell you everything, I guess,” he said.
“No? Tell me then,” I said.
“I’m a member, too. Of the club, that is,” he said.
“You’re
a member of a motorcycle club and a doctor?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s an unusual combination.”
“Like I said, they’re family. When my old man died, they took me in. He was all the family I had and they stepped up. I tried to join up right away, but the President, Ryder, wouldn’t let me until I finished med school. I went back to Colorado to do just that and came back to Oregon as quickly as I could afterwards. They patched me in as a prospect last year and while I don’t do much, being as busy as I am at the hospital, they still fully patched me in earlier this year.”
“Wow, that’s even more impressive than homemade potato salad,” I said, laughing. “Is there anything you don’t do?”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “I’m not very artistic. I can’t even draw stick figures.”
I laughed out loud and Alex turned to me from inspecting the petals of the hydrangeas and laughed. I looked over at Jason and saw him looking lovingly over at Alex. I ignored the feelings bubbling up inside of me and smiled at him.
“So, what’s your story, Daisy?” He asked, catching my eye. He was gentle and serious and I knew this moment would come but I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. ‘My story’ isn’t pretty and I knew after I told him, he would never look at me the same again. I wasn’t really sure how he was looking at me now, or what he thought of me, but he’d asked me out on a date without knowing much about me at all and now here we were.
“Ah, the moment of truth,” I muttered.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, of course,” he said, hurriedly.
“That’s not it,” I said. “I don’t mind telling you, but you should be warned it’s not a pleasant story, by any means. So, if you don’t really want to know the truth, then you can take your question back.”
His eyes searched mine and I nearly melted under his gaze.
“I told you I wanted to get to know you better.” He reached over, grabbing my hand and holding it gently in his palm. His touch was so gentle, so warm, so alive. His thumb swirled around my palm. “And that means everything you want to tell me. I don’t care what you tell me, it could never make me see you any differently than I see you now.”
“And how do you see me now?” I asked, boldly.
He smiled, a slow, sexy grin that spread across his face, causing the skin around his eyes and mouth to wrinkle up. I resisted the urge to reach out and trace each line with my fingertip.
“I see you as a strong woman, first of all. It’s obvious you’ve been through some serious situations and yet look at you — doing whatever it takes to take care of your child, putting him above everything, including him in everything. To me, that strength is very attractive. And nothing you’ve gone through could cloud that view I have of you.”
I almost swooned at his words. He hadn’t said a word about my appearance, only mentioning my strength, which was so newfound that I felt uncomfortable owning, even though deep down I knew that that is what had gotten me through.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling shy suddenly. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I want to get to know you better, too, and I suppose we can’t do that without sharing.”
He smiled and nodded.
“So, what do you want to know?” I asked.
“Where’d you grow up? Where were you born?”
I nodded. The beginning. Of course.
“I was born in Portland. I lived here until I was six.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Because my mother sold me to a man after taking me to Disneyland.”
I said the sentence, so simply and easily, void of any emotion. I’d repeated that sentence to myself for years, often murmuring it out loud when I was alone, just to feel the words tumble around my tongue. So much had happened to me since that night that the pain associated with the memory of the event that started it all seemed far away and long faded.
It didn’t take away the shock for others, I’d come to realize.
“She sold you? After a trip to Disneyland?”
I nodded and smiled a stiff smile.
“Yep.”
“That’s fucking horrific,” he said, then stopped and looked over at Alex. “Sorry for cussing.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I know it sounds harsh. I don’t talk about it much. But that’s what happened.”
“So, did she meet the man at Disneyland? I’m struggling to understand.”
“Oh, no,” I replied. “She took me to Disneyland because that’s how she wanted me to remember her, I suppose. She wanted to give me one last happy memory before she left.”
“Did it work?”
“Not really,” I said. “My memories of Disneyland are good, I guess, but she’s not really in them. Mostly, I remember being driven away in a strange man’s car and her just watching and crying while holding armfuls of cash.”
“Jesus, Daisy,” he said. “What happened after that?”
I took a deep breath, searching his eyes. Did he really want to hear this? Did anyone? I’d gone pretty far with my therapist at the shelter, but talking about it all seemed so pointless sometimes. I didn’t want to forget, I wanted to remember where I’d come from, but that didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it.
Jason’s eyes were peering over at me, gentle and soft and kind. I’d only have to tell him once, I thought. Then maybe we could move on.
“I stayed with that first man for just a few nights,” I said. “He took me to a hotel, gave me snacks and soda pop. I was terrified, and getting wilder and angrier by the second, demanding to be taken back to my mother. I think maybe he put something in the soda, or maybe I was just emotionally exhausted, because I fell asleep the first night pretty quickly. The next day, he laid out my future for me, pretty graphically and as honestly as he could. As awful as it was, I was grateful to him for being straightforward with me.”
“What did he say?” he asked.
“He told me my mother had sold me. That she couldn’t take care of me anymore. He told me there were other people that would buy me and that he was planning on selling me again, for a profit, in just a few days. And that’s what he did. He drove me down to California and we stopped at another hotel in Sacramento, where a group of three women were waiting. They took me from the man, paying him a suitcase full of money before loading me up in a van and driving me to Utah.”
“You must have been terrified,” he said, his eyes widening.
“I was. The women weren’t bad. Up until then, nobody had even raised their voice at me, so I was mostly confused. I was only six. I was trying to figure out why anyone would want to buy me. They wouldn’t answer that question, no matter how many times I asked it. Eventually, I figured maybe a couple who couldn’t have children would be the only people who would buy a child. I was wrong, but I had no way of knowing at that point.”
“Oh, Daisy,” he said, shaking his head. He grabbed my hand again, squeezing it gently.
I smiled and nodded slowly, the memories washing over me.
“I went through a few more transfers before landing in a house on the outskirts of Salt Lake City. There were other kids there, five of us total, two boys and three girls. They were about my age, the boys just a little older. A very mean woman named Hazel owned the house. When Hazel didn’t have any clients, we were in charge of cleaning and cooking and weeding and mowing the lawn. The house was a big, rundown Victorian which needed constant dusting, surrounded by huge, unkept fields that grew wild, unruly weeds that we had to stay on top of. But the clients…when they showed up, which was several times a week, at the very least, we were expected to please them and see to their needs.”
“What kind of clients are we talking about?”
“Men. Always men. Older ones usually, but from all walks of life. Men you’d never think would do something like that. Most of them had families and would pass as normal guys. But every single one of them gave me the creeps and I hated being there, I hated that we were expected to do whatever they asked. The
y hurt us. They raped us. They were disgusting. But if one of us tried to refuse, Hazel would beat us and then make us sleep outside naked, the sound of coyotes and wildcats terrifying us while we shivered throughout the torturous long nights. Being with the men was awful, but Hazel’s beatings were worse. After a while, we fell in line and did what we were told.
“We talked about banding together and escaping, but we were all so young, none of us had a penny to our names, and we had no clue where to go, even if we could escape. Hazel’s house was in the middle of nowhere. Nobody could hear our screams. We were trapped. Helpless. Just a bunch of little kids.”
“I’m so, so, sorry, Daisy,” Jason said, his hand still warmly holding mine.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I got out of there when I was eleven. The older I got, the less valuable I was to Hazel and less desirable to her sick clients. She sold me to someone else who sold me again. I was passed around three more times, moving to Nevada and back to California, before I landed again with another woman. Her name was Ruby and she lived here in Oregon.”
“This is the woman I met in the hospital.”
“Yes. She catered to the very rich and kept a bunch of young teenaged girls in a cabin at the base of Mt. Hood. To be honest, I was glad to be back in Oregon, so I didn’t complain too much when I was at Ruby’s. She fed us, took care of us, insisted we were impeccably groomed and dressed at all times, in order to please her elite clients. She didn’t have to do much to keep us in line, I think because all of the six of us there in that house were too broken to resist too much.”
“After a while, she began leasing girls out individually. She figured out that some of her clients would pay a retainer to keep a girl available at all times. She liked to call it her ‘custom service’. So, she rented a bunch of apartments, put one girl up in each apartment and rented us out to individuals willing to pay a generous monthly fee.”
“That’s crazy,” Jason said, shaking his head.
“I was fifteen when I was chosen by a wealthy athlete. He was always training, never around, so I didn’t have to do much, except make sure I was always ready to receive him at a moment’s notice. Those times were the closest I had to a real life. I had a bit of freedom. I could come and go as I pleased, even though I had to keep my phone on me at all times, with the GPS turned on so Ruby would know where I was. I didn’t have to work to pay rent and all of my expenses were taken care of. The guy showed up once every few months and by then, I’d become an expert at giving him whatever he wanted and turning off all of my emotions about the situation.”
BONES: GODS OF CHAOS MC Page 7
