by Harlow Brown
Relaxation felt so good it took me a minute to realize that in front of me, beside the television, stood a short, petite, gorgeous woman. As soon as I made eye contact with her, I forgot all about Adam. Her eyes held me in a daze; they were like sapphires with silver fireworks bursting in them. Simply beautiful.
“Care if I sit by you?" I heard as I tried to pry my eyes away from hers.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry.”
She sat, never breaking eye contact. That was until she hugged me. So what was a guy to do? I hugged her back.
And she jumped like I had burned her. I should have known she wasn't ready for that much physical contact with a virtual stranger.
“Babes, what? What happened?”
“Jazz is the only one I let fully embrace me.”
“Charlie, you can tell me if you want. I didn't know you weren't comfortable with people returning a hug. I'm sorry,” I murmured.
“I’m tired of feeling like this. When does it stop? When do I…?”
“Babes, I don't know. All I can say is you can take a break from it all. When shit is so unbearable, when I think things can't get worse, or when there’s so much shit on my mind that I feel like it’ll explode, I ride. I get on the bike and ride it out. It's just me, the road, and the wind in my face. The deafening rumble of the pipes chases out all the shit temporarily. It’s the only way I know how to escape, just for a little while.”
“If I think of what he put me through one more motherfucking time, I will go crazy. Is your offer still on the table?”
“You okay with hanging onto me?”
“I don't even care right now. I just need to forget for a while. Thank you so much. I'll write Jazz a note and put it on her nightstand, just in case she wakes up. What do I need to wear?”
“Boots, jeans, and a tee shirt. I'm going to get it unloaded from my truck. Be right back.”
Damn if I didn't know exactly where she was coming from. Angie fucked with my head—still does. I'll never forget the look in her eyes as I saw her with someone new the night after we split, all for her next bump. Karma is a bitch, and I guess that's her way of getting back at me for my transgressions.
I unloaded my bike and got a helmet for her, knowing Briar would have my ass if I didn't put one on her. Just as I was going in to get her, she appeared on the porch. There she was standing in the porch light, looking like an angel. She truly was the most beautifully stunning woman I’d ever laid eyes on. She stood about five-foot-three, with long blonde hair that hung in a braid to the side of her head, so thick it looked like a rope as it lay over her shoulder. She wasn’t some stick-skinny bitch—a C cup, if I had to guess. Her abs were flat and somewhat defined; I could tell by the way her tee shirt clung to her. Son of a bitch, that girl could rock a pair of jeans.
Perfection was staring back at me, and it was wearing black leather boots.
“You ready?” I finally managed to get out.
“Shit yes, I need a break from this hell that is my life.”
“Then let's ride. Wrap your arms around me and hang on tight.”
“Got it. This can't happen soon enough.”
I tried to put her helmet on her, but she refused.
“No. I want to feel the air on my face, the sting of the wind. I want to feel anything and everything except what I feel right now. I won't tell if you don't."
Those eyes were pleading with me, as if I ever had a snowball's chance in hell.
"It's our secret.” I threw my leg over and fired up the bike. “Climb on.”
She did. Not so gracefully, but in her defense, she was terribly low to the ground. Just as she got on, we heard a vehicle in the distance. It was quickly approaching when she said, “That's Hensley's car. Fuck me, what am I going to do now?” She started sobbing and said, “I just want it to stop.”
The poor thing was terrified, clinging to me for dear life.
I’ll be goddamned if I let him intimidate her in my presence. She’s mine now, and he’ll pay for the shit he’s done to her.
“Don't worry, Charlie. I'm here now. He won't ever hurt you again. He’ll never lay another hand on you. Feel me? I won't let that happen.” I turned and made sure she looked in my eyes, hoping she saw the genuine promise in them. I wanted her to know that I wouldn't let her down, that she could trust me.
Hensley parked the car, and I turned to face him as he sat in the driver's seat. He rolled down his window and a smug smile crept across his face. “So Charlie, I see you didn't get my messages,” he said, the smugness swiftly turning to anger.
Before I could even get a word out, I saw a blonde blur fly in front of me.
“Oh, I got them, all right. I just don't give a damn what they said. I'm not coming home. I'm not yours, and you will never get another chance to hurt me.”
He made hasty movements to get out of his car.
“I’d rethink that” was all I said, but I did so with authority.
He stayed inside, knuckles white against the steering wheel.
“And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?”
“Whiskey, it's okay. I got this,” Charlie said over her shoulder.
“No, I do. You say your piece, and then I’ll say mine,” I told her.
“What is it with all the men in my life being so demanding.”
“Not now, Charlie. We can discuss that after he’s gone.”
Hensley butted in. “Oh, that's funny. You think you’re going somewhere with my girl, biker trash?”
“No.” I walked over to him with fists clenched. “I know I am. And she’s not your girl anymore. It would do you good to remember that.”
“Hensley, get the fuck out of my life. I'm done with you. I hate you. Fuck, just leave me alone!” Charlie shouted.
"You’re choosing the biker trash over me? Over what we had?” he seethed.
“No, Hensley, I'm not choosing anything. You did that for me. You chose to rip us apart. You chose to make me weak. You chose every fucking thing that's happened. You're the asshole in this scenario! I would have chosen us. Every. Single. Time. This is your fault. You know, I would have spent my life with you. Instead, you used me for your personal gain. You took away my choice every time you tied and roughed me up. The choice has always been yours, until now. Now it's mine, and I sure as hell don't choose you.”
“Charlie, come on now. You never complained.”
She screamed, “For fear that you would make good on your promises and threats that the next time would be worse or that you would hurt my sisters or Jazz, you sorry motherfucker!”
She stood right beside me, looked up at me, then at once ripped off her shirt and screamed again, that time with raw emotion. “This is why I never complained, Hensley. I'm fucking black and blue. You left me with scars from cuts that should've had stitches, but I didn’t want it documented in my medical charts that I was abused. I'm so sore it hurts to move—hell, it hurts to breathe sometimes. So no, I didn't fucking complain, but I guaran-damn-tee you that it wasn't good. It was never good.” She was flailing her arms about, using them to point at her battered torso. I saw the marks on her perfect little body, imagined him putting them on her, and I snapped.
Before the dick could get ready, I yanked him through the window of his car. I didn't even realize I’d hit him until I heard Charlie’s cries. Thank fuck I only hit him a couple times. “You are nothing but a pussy. Did it make you feel like a man? Huh?” I picked him up by the collar of his shirt. “I’ll fucking kill you if you ever come near her again. You feel me?”
“Just go, Hensley. Just leave me alone. You made your choice, and it was never me.” There was so much sadness in her voice.
“Never, Char. I will never let you go. You are mine.”
I clocked him again and shoved him in his car.
“Wrong answer, fucker.” I breathed through my nose heavily, trying to calm my anger. “Get the fuck out of my sight, or I will beat you senseless right here.”
“This ain't over
, Char. Not by a long shot. Biker boy won't always be around.” And with that, he sped away.
I immediately ran to Charlie and wrapped my arms around her before I realized what I was doing. There in Jazz’s driveway, I held her, just standing in her bra and damn if it didn't feel right. “Put your shirt on, Charlie. Let's go for that ride. It turns out I need one too.”
“Thank you.”
“For what? He’s still going to be a problem, I can tell. That fucker is eaten up with the dumbass disease.”
“For standing up for me. You don't even know me and you've made it your business.”
“Look, babes, so long as I'm around, you'll never have to worry about him hurting you. You can trust me. But let's discuss this when you’re fully dressed and not in the middle of a driveway. If Briar looked out here right now, he’d have my ass.”
That got a small chuckle out of her perfect lips. “Sorry about that. I might have gotten caught up in the moment.” She put her shirt back on, and thank God for that; her perfect perky tits were testing my restraint.
Seeing her so raw and exposed made me want to get to know her more. I needed to fix her and protect her from all the evil she had known. I wanted to fix the busted pieces of herself that I saw in her eyes. I could almost see her soul in them, every tattered piece of it. She made me want to show her how a man, a real man, treats his woman. That's what she would be soon enough. I wouldn't settle for anything less than her, but for now, I had to calm my Charlie craving. I’d make her mine and show her how life was supposed to be, but I had to be smart. I couldn't push anything on her or I would ruin my chance at complete happiness with this woman.
I was still so caught up with her that my head was spinning. How have I fallen this fast for someone I don't know? I’m going to take her on the ride I promised her, and we’re both going to lose our minds, if only for a while.
With the turn of a key, my bike's pipes rumbled to life. She climbed on and wrapped her arms around me, laying her head on my back. She didn't have a clue as to what she had just done; she’d handed me some of her trust at that point. With the ‘thud’ of her head against my back, she all but screamed, “Get me out of here. Take me away.” Being the one for someone to lean on felt good. It felt right with her. She felt perfect behind me, almost like we were the last two pieces of a puzzle that had just been put together.
We took off into the night, riding to forget about Hensley and hopefully find, at the very least, some peace, if only for the night. Not sure what time it was, I was on a mission to drive Charlie's demons away. After a couple hours, she tapped me on the shoulder and motioned me to pull over, so I drove to the nearest gas station. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I've just got to pee and stretch my legs.” She hopped off and did a little shake of her legs.
Why does she have to be the perfect girl? I can't touch her. I can't even tell her how good she looks.
“You need something to drink?”
“Yes, please. Water is fine, and I'll pay you back when we get to Jazz’s house. I didn't bring any cash with me.”
“Babes”—I cocked my head at her—“I got this. You aren't paying me back for water.”
She just nodded in acceptance and thanks as she continued on her way to the bathroom. I went inside to grab the water and a pack of gum, and came back out to watch for Charlie. When I saw her through the gas station windows a strange feeling hit me in my chest. She looked like perfection. I could tell that the road therapy had helped; there was a peace about her that hadn't been there in the short time I’d known her. The shy smile she gave the cashier was cute, but I noticed she never made eye contact. She put her head down as she walked, and cashier boy couldn't help watching her as she went by. I decided that I would use the time to feel her out about Panama City Beach. Surely to God she knew she wasn’t going alone.
As she approached me, I handed her the water.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Well, here goes nothing. “Babes, can I ask you something?”
“Do I have to answer? I'm not really up for a game of ‘Charlie Trivia.'”
“I'm not going to require an answer tonight, but I will need one soon. Real soon.”
She tilted her head back and took a drink. Man, watching her throat move was sexy. It never occurred to me that a woman’s neck could be a turn-on. Her eyes met mine and she straightened herself. “What do you want to know?”
“When is your trip to PCB?”
“My girls! Holy shit. Fuck me. Damn it! I haven't even thought about it since all this happened. I can't let them down, and I refuse to miss my World Series. My shitty life choices shouldn't impact them. Fuck!” She paced in a frenzy.
“Charlie, calm down and answer my question, think this through, first things first. Okay?” I reached out to gently touch her bicep in an attempt to calm her some and to put ice on that impatient biker in me.
She immediately flung those gorgeous blue diamond eyes at me, and they were filled with defiance. Defiance or not, I couldn't stop staring at them. They had changed from dark blue with a silver starburst pattern in them to an almost solid silver center with blue accents.
Her lips set in a thin line and her now silver eyes met mine, “I don't appreciate being ordered around. I have dealt with that for the last three years and will not do it again.”
Spunky. I dig it. “I didn't mean it like that, Charlie. If you would just answer me, and maybe try to remember that I'm not him, you'd soon enough realize that I have a very valid reason for even bringing it up.”
On a loud exhale, she sighed. “I know you aren't him. But I hate orders. They take me back to times and places that I'd give my left nut to forget.”
I hadn't laughed so hard in, hell, I couldn't remember when. “Did you just offer a nut?”
“Yeah, sorry. It's random I know,” she replied as her eyes met mine. We were searching each other's, and I’ll be damned if hers weren't back to normal, blue with silver starbursts again.
“What?”
I was apparently staring pretty hard at her.
“Your eyes” was all I could get out, still mesmerized by them.
A moment of clarity hit her, and she softened a little more. “Oh yeah, those. I'm a freak of nature.”
“Freak or not is yet to be determined, but what is up with them?”
“I have mood eyes, as Daddy said. He could tell what mood I was in just by the color. The more blue, the happier I am. The more silver, the more pissed I am. It's kind of like when people's eyes change with what they wear, only mine change with my mood.”
Almost at a loss for words, I told her, "Charlie, those eyes of yours are by far the prettiest, most unique, spell-casting eyes I have ever seen. And I've made lots of eye contact.”
She blushed and then held her head down. “Thanks.”
“Charlie, I mean it. I'm surprised you can hold a conversation with anyone. It's hard to concentrate on anything but their beauty.”
She lifted her head a little and whispered, “I can't believe you noticed.” She walked away from the bike, a sudden sadness on her face. She stopped after only a couple steps and said, with her back to me, "Besides Mom and Dad, Jazz and Briar were the only ones ever to notice. It's weird to have someone pay enough attention to me to see them. Especially seeing as I’ve only known you a few hours.”
She turned back towards me in an angry haste and said, "Three years. Three fucking years. The cocksucker never even mentioned my eyes. They’re my thing.”
“Your ‘thing’?”
“Yeah, everybody has something. Some people are double-jointed and can bend in ways that would break most, some people can talk to animals, and some people get a freaky sixth sense. My eyes are my thing.”
“Babes, this is going to sound cheesy as hell and like the worst pickup line, but don't take it that way. I don't know how in the hell he missed them. Once they met with mine, I was hooked. I can't stop looking at them… looking at you. It's like magic or someth
ing.”
Giggles. She was giggling at me. It felt good to give her that. She needed to feel happiness for a bit.
“You were right, Whiskey. That was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard, but I do appreciate it very much. It tells me that you were engaged in conversation with me. Or at the very least noticed that I do, in fact, have eyes.”
How unfortunate. She had been so disrespected and so mistreated that something as minuscule as eye contact filled her with such gratitude.
“Charlie, I hate that he treated you so wrong, but, babes, when you’re with me, or just talking to me, I will look you in the eyes. I'll give you your turn to speak. I will listen.”
I moved closer and looked at her, waiting for her to look at me. She just kept her head hung to the ground. That stops now. I placed two fingers under her chin, not even caring if it made her uncomfortable, and lifted it so she had to make eye contact with me.
“I don't like talking to your head. Look me in the eyes when we speak. I want to see these eyes of yours.”
That did it. She looked at me and then realized my fingers were under her chin. She pulled away quickly, ambiguity written all over her face.
“I’m sorry that you felt uncomfortable just then, Charlie, but I'm not sorry I did it. I don't know shit about your life with him except that it's over now, and regardless of what he made you believe, you need to know that it’s okay to look at me. I will never hurt you, Charlie. I'm only here to help you, but you have to let me.” I paused and carefully thought about my next words. Damn her and her eyes. Now I'm under their spell again. “Babes, I want to see those gorgeous lookers of yours every chance I get, because if I'm looking at them that means you aren't thinking of him, that you get a break from the shit you have to deal with in your head. If I'm looking at them, it means I'm needed, like I'm serving a purpose.”
Well, shit. I hadn't planned on that coming out.
“Whiskey, are you all right?”
“Yes, Charlie. My past fucking sucks, okay? Just leave it at that. I want and need to change some things for the better. I left that shit behind me. I'm starting over here in Rudy.” It wasn't the time to tell her that I needed the blow like I needed my next breath. She was stirring up old feelings, and I was beginning to need a fix. I'd have to fight through it, though. I wasn't that guy anymore. I needed a new fix, a new drug, and I’d found the perfect one.
