Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens)

by Rachael James

  “Unique?” Hannah chuckled through her tears. “That’s one way to describe me.”

  Willow reached up and stroked her cheek. Growing very serious, she said, “Don’t ever do this to me again, Hannah. No more lies. No more games. Promise me now.”

  “I promise,” Hannah whispered. She brought Willow’s palm to her lips. Closing her eyes, she kissed it softly and then whispered, “I want out.”

  “What?” Willow rushed.

  “I’ve been at the mercy of people who detest me since I was three days old. First, the orphanage and then my adopted parents. When I started modeling, I thought it would be different. In the beginning, everyone loved me, and I believed that I had finally found some place where I belonged. Then I slipped up. A reporter yelled something crude in front of Sam. Honestly, what mother wants to be spoken to like some street-corner hooker in front of their child? I reacted and they have hated me ever since, but they wouldn’t let me go. I’ve tried to leave it behind several times, but they always find me and drag my reputation through the mud. So, I just thought if I told them the most horrible rumor possible, they would finally hate me enough to let me go.”

  “It was you?” Willow asked in shock. “You leaked the story to the press.”

  “Yes, it was me,” Hannah admitted. “But that didn’t make it any easier. I have spent my entire life trying to conceal what I am and seeing the truth brandished about everywhere like a scrumptious bit of gossip was devastating.”

  “Then why are we here? Why did you come back?”

  “I had to come back because…” Hannah stopped and took a deep breath to gather her courage. “…I sold the line to Gustuv under the condition that you retain complete creative control over all your designs.”

  “You did what?” Willow muttered.

  “I know this is your dream, and I’ll do anything I can to support you, but I can’t be a part of that world anymore because it makes me miserable. I chose him because I believe the two of you are very like-minded, and will be very compatible, professionally speaking. Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course,” Willow answered. What was there to forgive? She couldn’t expect Hannah to be a part of something that made her so unhappy, but her mind was still reeling. Only a few hours ago, she thought Hannah believed they were sisters. Now she knew that wasn’t true, but she still didn’t know what Hannah wanted. She sounded very much like she wanted to build a life with her, which was something Willow had wanted since their first trip to Paris. But Willow wanted, no needed, a real relationship where they would come together as equals—not as doll maker and toy.

  “I won’t get back into that tub,” Willow declared firmly. “I won’t be the plaything you use to chase your demons away.”

  Hannah blinked in surprise. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled softly. “The water wasn’t meant for you. It was for me.”

  “You?” Willow questioned warily.

  “It isn’t a game,” Hannah insisted with a gravelly voice. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, when she opened them again fresh tears fell down her cheeks. “Before he started taking pictures, she would never look at me. And I didn’t understand why. In Russia, they wouldn’t tell me why I was different nor was I allowed to see the other children without clothes. I only knew that there was something very wrong with me, but I didn’t know what it was. Then one night a few weeks after we came home, I became violently ill. I tried to clean up the mess, but it was everywhere—on my pajamas, in my hair. She must have had heard me because she came into my room. When she saw the mess, she started screaming, crying, and dragged me to the bathtub. Once I was naked, she pointed between my legs and raged that I was a disgusting freak and only nasty perverts could stand the sight of me naked. She said I was a horrible, selfish bitch for making her see it. She made me hate my body that night, and I have hated it ever since. And I believed her too. I believed that no sane, normal person could ever stand the sight of me naked. So, I always watched other people making love and never participated because I was terrified. I still am. Every time we made love, I was petrified that you would open your eyes and see me as I have always seen myself—a disgusting, vile freak.”

  “That will never happen,” Willow said.

  “I want to believe you. I really do,” Hannah whispered. “In Sedona, they said that no medicine or surgery could fix my mental body image. Before I could address my gender-identification issues, I had to stop seeing myself as a freak. If I wanted to maintain a healthy relationship with someone else, I had to trust that they wouldn’t see me as that either.”

  “I don’t, Hannah! I swear, I don’t, and I never will,” Willow pleaded.

  “I decided I needed to go back to the beginning and, if you would be willing, I need you to look at me and touch me. I need to learn to trust that you can do that without be sickened.”

  Several minutes later, Hannah sat naked in the water, hugging her knees to her chest as she sobbed. Willow was on her knees beside the bathtub, softly humming a quiet tune as she lathered the shampoo through Hannah’s platinum locks of wet hair.

  “Are you all right?” Willow asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you need me to stop?”

  “No, please don’t,” Hannah choked through her tears. It was impossible for her describe how she felt—only that she became suddenly aware of the huge, gaping hole in her soul. It was from there that the demons slipped through to her reality. Now, Willow was filling it with her touch, her hands, and her sweet song. She was giving her back all that had been stolen, all that had been denied.

  Hannah was so very happy that it was Willow filling her with her wild, bohemian essence because she loved her so very much. She also knew that she couldn’t be magically healed with a single washing. It would be a slow process because her fragile mind could only accept little pieces at a time. Right then, she had more pressing concerns to attend to.

  After Willow rinsed her hair, Hannah sat up and wiped her eyes. Then, moving with lightning speed, she pulled Willow, who was fully clothed, into the water with her.

  Sputtering with surprised, Willow gasped, “You’re cheating.”

  “I am not,” Hannah declared as she pulled the wet shirt over Willow’s head. “I never said you couldn’t drag me into the tub—only that I wouldn’t get in willingly.”

  “That’s still cheating by default,” Willow laughed.

  Her trousers proved a bit trickier and required a great deal more splashing, but eventually she was freed of clothing. Sitting up with her legs wrapped around Hannah’s waist, their lips crashed together, their tongued entwined. Willow inched closer until Hannah’s cock was fully embedded inside her. Tearing her mouth away, Willow groaned, “Oh God, I’ve missed you so much.”

  Hannah smiled against her nipple before she pulled it between her lips.

  Surrounded and filled by Hannah, Willow shattered and clenched her so tight that Hannah soon followed.

  “Obviously,” Hannah moaned breathlessly as she fell back against the tub with Willow in her arms.

  After several moments, Willow leaned up, “Sorry, I had a lot of pent-up energy.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing we don’t have to leave for a few weeks.”

  “Did you pack your toys?”

  “Maybe, why do you ask?” Hannah answered.

  “First, you need to understand something,” Willow said. “I love you very much. More than I ever have anyone else or will ever again. It’s important that you remember that because for the next few weeks I will be fucking you into oblivion. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be strutting anywhere any time soon.”

  “Is that a promise?” Hannah giggled.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Epilogue

  Six Years Later

  “Get in this house right now. Both of you!” Hannah hissed from the French door that opened to the back patio, just as her phone began ringing. Answering, her features softened and her voice grew sultry, “Hey, s
exy woman.”

  “Hey yourself. What are you doing?” Willow asked.

  “At the moment, I am chasing after your twins,” Hannah answered.

  “My twins?”

  “When I turn my back for two seconds and find them prancing in the backyard without a stitch of clothing, they are definitely your twins. I never played naked outdoor games as a little girl.”

  Her little darlings ran giggling through the door. First came Kenyon, the eldest by three and a half minutes. He was a raven-hired angel with sparkling green eyes, and was all boy—as rough and tumble as they come, which was something of a refreshing surprise as neither Willow nor the twins’ biological father was particularly butch. Next came McKenna, with her white-blond hair and smoky green eyes, she looked so much like Sam that at times it was frightening. She pouted just like him too.

  In Sam’s defense, he had finally grown into a man. Sam had been one of those children that required a whole damn village to raise. Hannah would never say it aloud, because bickering with his wife was one of her favorite past times, but Kate had been wonderful for him. He still didn’t always show the best judgment, like the time the twins spent the weekend with their older brother so she and Willow could go away for their anniversary. Although he was very much aware of McKenna’s princess complex, Sam decided to spend the entire weekend playing dress-up. As what? Princesses, of course. Now, her four-year-old daughter refused to leave the house without one of her gowns, a rhinestone crown, and matching heels. Hannah drew the line at mascara, and no amount of whining or crying had made her change her mind.

  “Are the twins close by?” Willow asked.

  “Why?” Hannah questioned suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

  “Hannah, my water broke.”

  “What?” Hannah screeched. “That baby isn’t due for another three weeks! You’re just going to have to cross your legs for the next twenty-one days and keep her inside,” she screamed and then took a deep breath. “All right, I’m better now. We’ll be at the office in a few minutes to pick you up.”

  “I’m already at the hospital,” Willow said.

  “You drove yourself to the hospital? What were you thinking? Have you lost your freaking mind?” Hannah shouted.

  “I’m fine,” Willow declared.

  “Have you called Sam and Kate?”

  “They are already on their way.”

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t you dare start pushing without me,” Hannah warned. Then added, sounding only slightly less irritated, “Love you.”

  “Love you too. See you in a few.”

  Perhaps some women might have crumbled under the pressure, but not Hannah. She dressed the twins, who were both getting a little fussy because they had to delay their lunch, packed Willow’s bag, and gathered Consuela, who unknowingly had just become their sitter while Hannah stayed with Willow during the birth. She did it all in less than three minutes, leaving them seven minutes to get across town to the hospital.

  Hannah always knew that if she was given the opportunity, she would be a perfect mommy. She was so good that she had already penned two bestselling novels about her life with the twins. These days, most everyone had forgotten Hannah Fairbanks. Now she was known as Hannah Mallory, mommy extraordinaire.

  Her only regret with motherhood was that she couldn’t carry babies. Hannah was certain she would have been a divine pregnant goddess, but knocking up Willow was the next best alternative. Knowing how important it was to Hannah, Willow had opened her body, mind, and soul. Every thought, every feeling, every sensation she felt during the entire nine months, she shared with Hannah. They were so connected that Hannah felt the first flutters of life inside Willow’s womb before she did. It was during that time, while they shared the lives they were bringing into this world together, that the tiny cracks inside Hannah’s soul were finally sealed. There simply wasn’t any room for demons or monsters of the past. The birth of her children was the rebirth of her.

  In between raising her twins, writing her books, and volunteering with several groups and organizations, her life was filled and bursting at the seams, but after a long conversation with Willow, they both decided that there was still room for more. Hannah was so excited about this next phase in her life that she could hardly contain herself. Unfortunately, not everyone in the family shared her enthusiasm.

  As Hannah was merging on the highway, she heard Kenyon, who was in the backseat, say to McKenna, “Quit being a butthole.”

  Glancing up at the rearview mirror, Hannah responded, “Kenyon, do not call your sister a butthole.” Then glancing over at his sister, she added, “Kenna, stop pouting. We’ve already discussed this…” Several times, Hannah thought to herself. “…You will always be Sam’s sister. Nothing will change how he feels about you.”

  McKenna crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and stared out the window. “I don’t care if it does.”

  When Hannah spied Kenyon roll his eyes at McKenna, she had to hide her smile. She was thinking the same thing herself. Oh well—at least this time around she had a little more experience handling drama queens. McKenna had been all about the baby until she found out it was a girl and then she wanted nothing to with it. Hannah only hoped that once baby Abby was here, McKenna might have a change of heart. If not, hopefully Sam could disguise his true feelings because McKenna was thoroughly convinced she was his absolute favorite person in the world—Kate included.

  With only a few moments to spare, Hannah triumphantly arrived, but found Willow in such a horrible state that she was ready to tear into the first nurse that came in sight. “Good God, haven’t they given you an epidural yet?”

  “I’m too far along,” Willow groaned.

  “Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” Hannah sympathized. “What can I do?”

  “My back is killing me,” Willow moaned.

  She rolled to her side and Hannah began massaging her throbbing muscles. Sam and Kate arrived a few minutes later. Hannah’s phone started ringing. “I better take this,” she said.

  Willow glanced over her shoulder. “Seriously?” she spat.

  “It will only take a minute,” Hannah promised and then answered. “Hello darling, what’s going on? ...Oh no, nipple rejection is very common you shouldn’t give up yet… Hmm, maybe I could stop by later,” she paused and looked at Willow. “Actually, we better plan on tomorrow… Yes, I know the bottle is tempting, but you really shouldn’t give in yet. Breast milk is so much healthier for the baby… Have you tried massaging the nipple yet?… Try that first and then warm, wet towels. That should help… Yes, I’ll be over first thing in the morning… No, sorry darling, I really can’t come tonight because my wife is about to deliver our first grandbaby… Oh thank you, I’m so excited. Nana Hannah, I can’t wait. It will be fabulous… Oh hell no, the twins are only four years old. It’s my oldest son, Sam. His wife is sickly and can’t carry the baby.”

  “I’m not sickly,” Kate gasped with outrage. “Tell her I’m not sickly, Sam,” she demanded.

  “She’s not sickly,” Sam corrected. “She has a bum heart.”

  “I do not,” Kate spat as she elbowed him in the side. When they decided they wanted to have a child, they consulted with the city’s best cardiologist. He had said that given Kate’s preexisting condition, there could be risks. Of course, they hadn’t sat around to hear any actual percentages because as soon as Sam heard that word, it was a done deal in his mind. He had already scheduled an outpatient appointment for a vasectomy when Hannah suggested they consider exploring a nontraditional route. Thank God, because the argument that ensued by his utter refusal to listen to a single thing she had to say on the subject was very nasty.

  Ignoring them both, Hannah said into the line, “See you tomorrow. Love you too.”

  As soon as she hung up, Sam grumbled, “What the hell? Didn’t you just meet that woman a few weeks ago? Why is she saying love you?”

  “Motherhood is a bonding experience,” Hannah dismissed.
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  “Fine, but it is kind of a big day for me and I would very much like to get through it without hearing my mother talk about nipple massage again,” Sam groaned.

  He hadn’t started referring to Hannah as his mother until the twins came along. She had been very insistent that he was their brother, and he wanted to avoid any confusion. Strangely enough, it only sounded awkward the first couple of times, but after that it felt completely natural. Granted they would never have a traditional relationship, but that didn’t change what they were to each other. But hell would freeze over before he thought of Willow as any version of his mother. For starters, she was younger than him. He tolerated her because he had to and because she made Hannah happy. She wasn’t a bad mother either, but some people just rub you the wrong way. The feeling was entirely mutual.

  “Why does he have that camera?” Willow suddenly hissed at Hannah. “I told you I didn’t want him taking any pictures of me.”

  “Calm down,” Sam muttered. “I’m not going to take a picture of your nasty twat.”

  “Sam, be nice,” Hannah growled. “Your daughter is coming out of it.” Leaning over, she kissed Willow’s cheek, “It’s not nasty. I love it.”

  Sam rolled his eyes at the two of them. He knew for a fact it was nasty because Hannah had videotaped the birth of the twins and forced him to watch it. He was so horrified that he couldn’t dress in drag for months afterwards. If that was what being a woman was all about, he wanted no part of it.

  The obstetrician arrived a few moments later and announced that it was time. Once Hannah, Sam, and Kate were decked out in hospital scrubs, they met Willow in the birthing room. Hannah stayed by her side. Kate gravitated towards the bottom of the bed, and Sam fluttered about, snapping several candid shots.

  At one point, Sam placed his knee beside Willow’s waist and tried to nudge her over. Willow reached over and started punching his back. “Get off this bed!” she screamed madly.