So she knew what it meant for me to open up like this, but I guess I was asking the same of her. Yet, I didn’t get that cold needle of dread feeling I usually got when I thought of telling someone my past.
“I grew up in an abusive home,” I started, already feeling a heaviness in my chest. “A drunk father, a drug addicted mother, and a little sister I did everything in my power to protect. My father would beat the hell out of my mum, and when I stepped in, he’d turn on me. Soon, I became the main source of rage for him, and the only thing that could stop it was if I won money bare knuckle boxing at a place called the Pit.”
She looked away for a moment, and I saw the recognition in her eyes.
“You know it?”
Nodding, she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’ve heard about it. It’s not a nice place.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s a lot better now than it was, but it’s still filled with seedy gambling and crime.”
“How old were you?” she asked me.
“Fourteen,” I answered. “I was good at it. I earned enough money to give my dad what he wanted, and to help my mum, and to feed my sister. The beatings stopped, my sister didn’t cry herself to sleep anymore. Eventually, I met someone at the Pit, someone who knew what I was doing was stupid. He convinced me to come to the clubhouse and to work for them. Cleaning tables, helping with the bikes, being an errand boy, that sort of thing. It was honest and best of all, I didn’t need to fight. My body bounced back from all my injuries and I was making friends and learning about bikes. I loved it.”
“I feel like a bad thing is about to happen.”
I offered her a smile, but I knew she could tell it was half-hearted. I hated talking about my past, remembering all the shit that went down, and the things I couldn’t control.
“I went home one day to discover my family were gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone,” I confirmed. “Packed up and left, no note, no anything. I didn’t know how to get in touch with them or even what to do. We never had family visit us so I didn’t know who else to call. I was fifteen by this time, I knew if I went to the cop shop, they’d send me to a home so I went back to the clubhouse. I told Pope, and he gave me the key to a cabin out behind the clubhouse. It was my own place, and I lived in it while I learned the ropes of what being a biker was, especially in the Shackled Sons. I became a prospect at sixteen and patched in when I was eighteen. This is my family. Those men downstairs? They are my brothers.”
“You’d die for them.”
“In a heartbeat,” I said without hesitation.
“I’m glad you had them after all that,” she said, smoothing her hand down my torso. I stopped it from going lower.
“I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work, kitten. Spill it.”
She sighed, “Fine, it’s not as bad as yours.”
“Rowan…”
“Fine,” she sat up. I followed suit, leaning against my headboard. “My mum was a hard worker. She tried her best, but we never agreed on things. She was always waiting for the day my dad would come home. Over time, she got into this weird spiritual thing, which was preceded by church and their little bible studies. When I started to bloom, at thirteen, my mum hated it. She would force me to wear clothes that hid my body. She made me feel ashamed for being a woman, and I didn’t know why. I felt like I was being punished. I wasn’t allowed friends, and when boys started showing an interest in me, she signed me up for every extra curricular activity she could so I was never available for sleep overs or whatever. I was alone. I had no one. Isolation is a killer. When I dared to get a boyfriend, she locked me in my bedroom to repent for my sins. Then she went on a church retreat, and didn’t come home for three days.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, she was forgetful sometimes. It changed my behaviour. I became withdrawn, the bullies at school were getting worse, and I stopped eating, or if I was forced to, I would eat the food, then throw up in the bathrooms.”
“Tee and Tori?”
“They were two of them. There were others. That’s what they do, they attack in mobs. Unfortunately, I believed everything they said about me, and it took years of good friends to undo what they did.”
“You still react to them, why?”
She shrugged. “It still hurts. They implanted a seed of doubt in my brain that I can’t remove.”
“You don’t like people telling you what to do because you were tortured by your mother out of fear that you would leave her like your dad did, and you were bullied by women who have nothing to be proud of. They took your power. The best way to be happy, Rowan, is to succeed despite them.”
“That’s oddly wise advice from a MC prez of an outlaw club.”
I laughed, unable to stop myself. “I found myself in tricky situations a lot, and I grew up learning. You’re still young, you’ll have a few more lessons to learn before you get it.”
“Are you saying I’m too young for you?” she queried. I grabbed her arm and pulled her on top of me, her perfectly naked body fit on mine like a glove. Almost like she was made for me.
