This Girl Stripped

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This Girl Stripped Page 9

by Dawn Robertson


  I throw a bag of clothes across the room and it smacks him dead center in the middle of his back. As soon as the bag makes contact with his giant form, I turn and run in the opposite direction. I feel like a little kid fighting with Star all over again. It feels good. I’m genuinely happy, even though I know he is about to plow through the house and get his revenge. Everything between us is so laid back and easy - Fun even - when we are together.

  When I don’t hear the heavy boots come stalking after me, I peek around the corner and make my way back toward the bedroom. I stop in the middle of the living room, quietly looking around at all the possible hiding spaces. No sign of him.

  I tip toe around the corner and peek into the bedroom. As my head rounds the corner, a strong hand pulls me into the room and tosses me over his shoulder. Damnit! He caught me!

  I squeal and laugh hysterically as he tickles me. I’m gasping for air and kicking my legs. I can’t stop laughing, and he joins in. His deep booming chuckle fills the room, and vibrates through my entire body.

  “Stop! I’m gonna piss my pants, Diesel! I swear to God! I will SO pee on you!” My threat stops him, and he lowers my feet back onto the funky old shag carpeting. I hold my stomach as I catch my breath. Tears stream down my face, and his smile could light up an airport runway. God we have so much fun together.

  I lean against the wall, and look up to catch his heated gaze focused on my flushed face and lips. I run my tongue along my bottom lip without even thinking about it. It’s my body’s natural response to him. I just can’t help it.

  He shakes his head and focuses back on the bed. Thank god he did, because if he leaned in, I would have kissed the hell out of him. I just can’t control myself around him and sometimes it really scares me.

  I make my way back to the kitchen. As I open up the foam food container, my stomach growls. Shit, I was hungry. In the hustle and bustle of moving this morning I forgot to eat. But, when the scent of the bacon hits my nose, my stomach churns and I bolt for the bathroom. What the fuck?

  I love bacon. This must be nature’s cruel trick or something, because I was about to make that bacon my bitch. I hurl up the cup of coffee I had an hour or so ago, and sit on the floor recovering. Diesel knocks on the door and I groan.

  “You okay, Paisley?” I must have that stupid stomach bug Star said was going around the schools. Scarlett had it a couple weeks ago, then ever so kindly passed it to Magnolia. I don’t have time to be sick, especially without a damn bed.

  “I’m good, I think I’m gettin’ that stomach bug the girls had. You should probably leave.” I would feel horrible if I got anyone else sick. Especially since he’s just here trying to help me.

  “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Paisley. I’m gonna get the bed together as quick as I can. If you need me just holler.” I can hear his boots cross the house. I hate being sick. I’m the most pathetic, miserable, sick person ever. Hell, I haven’t been sick like this since I was a kid. Damn kids and their nasty stomach bugs.

  I flush the toilet and wash my face, almost feeling a hundred percent better. Whatever. Now I want to down those pancakes.

  “Hey, Diesel? Could you do something with that bacon?” Maybe it was the bacon that set me off? Ain’t that some damn bullshit?

  “Like what? Eat it?” He laughs from the other side of the door. I’m sure he’s shoving it in his mouth.

  “Yeah, good idea. Just eat it.” When the coast is clear I sit down at the table and down the giant pancake without a problem - silently praying it doesn’t come back up in an hour. Because no one wants to throw up anything with chocolate in it. It should be against some kind of chocolate rule.

  “You good?” He asks, tossing a screwdriver down on the table, and pulling the other chair out. I nod and swig down a bottle of water. It’s fucking refreshing as all hell. Maybe I was just dehydrated? I need to start taking better care of myself. Isn’t that what we all say?

  “Yeah, I don’t know what that was all about.” I shrug my shoulders.

  “Bed is all set.” He nods in the direction of the bedroom. With the millions of pieces, I’m not very confident that it won’t fall apart the second I lay down.

  “Sure you did it right?”

  He laughs at me as I push my chair back and go to investigate his bed building skills.

  “Ain’t the first Ikea crap I’ve built. I got sisters, remember?” He laughs.

  I jump onto the bed, and proceed to jump up and down like a little girl on her first bed. No squeaks, nothing falling apart. Looks like Diesel gets an A+ in bed building skills. My stomach churns again, and I am pretty sure jumping around after eating on a queasy stomach was probably the worst idea ever. Shit!

  I run to the bathroom for the second time in an hour and empty the giant pancake into the toilet. Well, looks like eating that was a shitty idea. When I finally emerge from the bathroom a second time, Diesel has my entire bed made with the Walmart bed-in-a-bag I picked out a couple days ago. He tucks me into bed and heads out.

  “I’ll be back in a couple hours. I’m gonna go get you all the flu necessities.” I try and warn him off, telling him he is only going to end up sick if he comes back. We bicker back and forth. This is the first time I am ever sick with no one to take care of me. My mother may have been a useless piece of shit, but when any of us got sick, she actually took care of us. It was rare, but it happened.

  I drift off to sleep thinking about our childhood and the hand full of times my mother was actually doting instead of whoring around with anyone who would throw the dick in her direction. I sleep through Diesel’s return and half a dozen phone calls from Star checking in on me. Then I see it, a text from River.

  Star said you’re sick. If you need anything, call me. K?

  Even though I’m feeling better than I did earlier, I’m not back to myself. Nor am I thinking straight. Instead of thanking him, I text him back the rudest thing I could come up with.

  Fuck you.

  Maybe he’ll finally get the hint? I just don’t understand how he could think I would come to him or need him when I’m sick. Even after the pain he’s caused me over the past month with his radio silence.

  I’ve reached out to him so many times and he couldn’t even reply with a simple hello. It’s more than just being hurt or pissed. He’s rude. Fucking rude as hell. The phone buzzes with a text message and I ignore it because I already know it’s going to be him. I don’t want to deal with it right now.

  I wander into the kitchen, and see the pharmacy bag on the table. Diesel really thought of everything. I pull out some flu and fever medication, Emergen- C in every flavor, chicken broth cubes, chicken soup from Maggie’s, Gatorade, and the last item… well it almost makes me pass out right there on the floor.

  I pull out the small box, knowing only three months ago I held the same exact plastic test in my hand before I found out I was pregnant with a rapist’s baby. There is no way I could be pregnant, so I toss it back into the bag and pull out the Gatorade and take it back to bed with me.

  There’s no way I could be pregnant, right?

  Ignorance is Bliss

  I spent the next four days in bed. Star, Chrome, Diesel, and even Journey came to check on me. Every time I would move, even just to get up and go to the bathroom, I would vomit. It was definitely the flu. But, when the fourth day rolled around and Diesel sat at the end of my bed insisting I needed a doctor, I knew something was wrong.

  “I’m fine. I haven’t thrown up in twenty-four hours, I’m getting better. Plus, I don’t have insurance or money, so a doctor is out.” I pulled the blankets up tighter, and prayed he would just leave it at that.

  It was strange. When I first came to town, River took care of me. He made sure I had ginger ale at my bedside or a hand full of painkillers. Now he couldn’t be bothered to even be my friend because friendship was all I could offer anyone. Diesel had taken up the role of my protector, a big brother I had sex with once upon a time. He accepted the friendship I offered him wit
h open arms, never once pushing me - only reminding me once that when I was ready, he would still be waiting.

  He wasn’t pushy. He wasn’t a caveman asshole like River was. He respected me and respected my space. I think that made me genuinely love him more than I thought I already did.

  He stood from his perch at the end of my bed, grabbed a new DVD and put it into the player. Leaving the room for a split second, he came back in with a pharmacy bag, similar to the one he’d dropped off days earlier.

  “Paisley?” he pushed the bag in my direction without making eye contact. I pulled at the bag and opened it to find another pregnancy test inside. Or maybe it was the same one since I’d stashed it under the bathroom sink once I decided I didn’t need it a few days ago.

  “Diesel, I’m not pregnant!” I throw the test across the bed and it hits him in the shoulder.

  “What is with you throwing shit at me?” He laughs, I love that sound.

  “You deserve to have shit thrown at you! You’re being stupid. I’m not pregnant. I got that nasty bug from the girls. I’m fine. A couple days from now, I’ll be kicking your ass for even suggesting it.”

  “Then humor me.” He tosses the box across the bed and it lands in my lap.

  “What?” I’m just confused.

  “Just take it and I’ll leave you alone about it.”

  I kick the covers off and grab the box, stalking toward the bathroom.

  “Once I pee on this, I’m going to throw this at you!” I yell as I close the door. I rip the box open and toss it into the garbage can. I make quick work of peeing on the little plastic stick. When I’m finished, I keep my promise and chuck the small white stick across my bedroom. Diesel catches it easily with one hand, and a smile.

  “I told you, Diesel. I am not fuckin’ pregnant!” I slide back into my bed, and wrap myself in the covers.

  I grab the DVD player remote and turn on The Break Up. Don’t hate, I’m a Vince Vaughn fan! Diesel sits quietly at the end of the bed staring at the test, waiting for the result to pop up. Two minutes go by and the movie begins.

  “You gonna join me or are you going to stare at that useless piece of plastic all night?” I harass him, but he keeps staring at the test.

  “Diesel! Earth to Diesel! Hellllllllo!” I wave my arms around in front of him, but he doesn’t budge.

  He tosses the test into my lap, jumps up onto the bed like a madman and starts screaming.

  “I TOLD YOU! PAISLEY! I WAS SO RIGHT!” He looks like Tom Cruise when he jumped up and down on Oprah’s couch confessing his love for Katie Holmes. We all know how that ended. As I sit here and internally make fun of him, I realize exactly what he just said.

  “You told me shit! You aren’t right!” I look down at the test, and my heart plunges into my stomach. The little digital read out displays the word: PREGNANT.

  “No way,” I mumble as I place the test down on the comforter.

  My stomach rolls and I bolt to the bathroom. All I can hear as I fly across the tiny new living space I call home is, “I TOLD YOU SO!”

  “You gotta go,” I say, disturbing him from his little celebration.

  “What?” his face morphs from excitement to curiosity. I can’t talk to him about this right now. I can’t talk to anyone about this right now. I can’t even process this shit on my own. How could something like this happen? I immediately blame myself for being so careless.

  The first time, it wasn’t my fault. It was Zane’s fault. This time, I’m the one solely responsible for the giant cluster fuck I’ve found myself in. But, I know one thing for certain this time around: I will keep his baby. This is my second chance. This is my forgiveness. This is my do-over. This is some kind of higher power allowing me a second chance when I don’t deserve one by any means.

  “I… You… please, Diesel. Can you leave?” I can feel tears stinging my eyes and I know if he doesn’t move quickly he will witness the nuclear meltdown that is brewing. I hate him because I know he isn’t going to leave.

  “Paisley, Princess. Talk to me.” I can’t say a word because of the giant lump sitting in the middle of my throat. It hurts. I hurt. Everything hurts. I don’t want to cry, but I just can’t hold it back anymore. I can’t hold anything back from him anymore.

  “I can’t,” I sob, and the tears begin to flow down my face. Without even thinking, my mind starts to purge all my thoughts to him. He could very well want nothing to do with me after this, but what should I expect?

  “Diesel, I killed my baby,” I cry uncontrollably in his arms. Everything about his embrace feels safe to me. With each scream, his arms grip me tighter. He holds me and I let it all out. All the sorrow, and pent up emotion I haven’t found an outlet to purge.

  “Shhhh, it’s okay, Paisley. I got you,” he whispers into my ear, and holds me tighter. His body absorbs all of my sorrow. I wipe my eyes and start to pull away. Our eyes meet and I can’t help but begin to cry again. I can’t stop. My emotions are just all over the damn place. Today is the second chance I never thought I would get. Not that I ever planned on it happening so fucking soon.

  But, in between the tears, I tell him bits and pieces of my story. The story I never had the opportunity to open up and tell him before now. He never lets go of me. Never breaks the eye contact that I constantly break, looking anywhere but in his eyes. I don’t want to see his pity like I’ve seen in the eyes of Star and River. When I finally bring myself to lock eyes again, I don’t see any pity. I see rage and hurt.

  “I was raped. Zane raped me in Florida. I was a virgin - he was brutal. Beat me until I passed out and had his way with me.” I choke back the lump in my throat again. The words are choppy and incomplete; it’s all that I can bring myself to get out. But I somehow will myself to continue. “I got pregnant and a few days before Thanksgiving, I had an abortion. I killed my baby. I am a horrible person. I don’t deserve a second chance.”

  He presses his lips to my forehead and pulls me into his arms again. “Babe, I don’t blame ya. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I wish I would have known because I would have stood by your side though it all.” The comfort I feel from him is unexplainable.

  “But, Paisley Princess…” he pulls back and pushes the hair from his mischievous eyes. “Zane is a dead man.” His words are emotionless and cold. I shouldn’t be scared of the man sitting in front of me, but for a moment in time, I am.

  “Do you have a doctor?” Star asks as we lay in her bed together. I had to get the news off my chest. After calling Seven and asking her every pregnancy related question I had, I asked Star to come and pick me up so I could veg out with her for a couple hours.

  “Nope, need to find one. But, I got bigger problems than just finding a doctor.” I laugh. The comedy of the situation should be completely lost to me, but I guess I’m just becoming used to my life being a complete train wreck. Only I would be so fucking stupid to get involved with two men at the same damn time. Did I want this shit to happen?

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Star joins in my laughter. She thinks River is the father of this baby. She has no idea about Diesel and me. I mean, everyone knows we went on a couple dates, but no one but us knows what really happened between us. Well, besides Ryker. But, there was no way he was going to be running his mouth since he has so many of his own demons hiding in the closet.

  “You have to promise not to tell anyone, especially not Chrome.” Her interest certainly is piqued now. Her face borders confused.

  “Well, first off, River doesn’t even know I’m pregnant, and I plan on keeping it that way, especially since he won’t even talk to me right now. We haven’t spoken in over a month.” I shrug my shoulders and let it roll off my back. That’s his choice and I think he may actually be making my life easier than it needs to be right now.

  “River doesn’t know you’re pregnant? What the fuck Paisley?! You have to tell him!” She counters. I just continue.

  “Second, I don’t know if River is the father. So, yeah, the
re is no need getting him all worked up just yet.” I try and laugh, but it just sounds like I’m choking on my own words. Star lets out an audible gasp and I want to burst out laughing. We would have expected something like this from her years ago. Especially after she had Magnolia. Never me.

  “Wait, what?” she asks, completely confused. “WHO?” she screams as she shoots up from the bed. “Paisley, seriously? What the fuck has gotten into you?!”

  “Calm down, Star. Seriously, it isn’t a big deal.” I shrug my shoulders. Hell, I’m still trying to get used to the situation as a whole. It’s all so new - so fresh. Heck, I could have a miscarriage tomorrow and everything would disappear from my grasp. That’s exactly what I deserve. I don’t deserve the blessing of a beautiful baby. I don’t deserve the gift of motherhood after what I did.

  “Paisley, you have three point two seconds to spill before I call Chrome and tell him you’re pregnant. It will take him all of five minutes to have River on the phone. Don’t try me, little sister.” She means business now. Using Chrome is bringing out the big guns, especially since he’s on the road with the club. The same place Diesel is.

  “It’s Diesel. Alright? Jesus!” My hands land over my eyes as I wait for her backlash.

  “Wait. You and Diesel?” She asks confused. Does she know something more about him and Ryker?

  “Yeah, me and Diesel. We spent a night together. But, I ran like I always do. I shouldn’t have, but my life is too much of a mess for all the baggage of a relationship. He helped me a lot, still does.” It’s the truth.

  “You’re the reason Ryker left.” She says. It isn’t a question, and I had no idea Ryker went anywhere.

  “Ryker left?” I’m way beyond confused.

  “Yeah, a couple weeks ago, Ryker up and left without any reason. I suspected it had something to do with Diesel after what you told me though. I always suspected they had something going on because they’re always together, but when you brought it up, it all made more sense. It was more than just one of those bromances. But, neither of them have spoken about it. Not a damn word. You know, I hate that men aren’t like women in that aspect. I would love to hear that gossip.” Star goes on and on. She’s rambling, but I’m learning more about Diesel and the kind of friendship he had with Ryker. Maybe I’m the one who ruined that?

 

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