This Girl Stripped (4 page)

“She did,” is all I can say. I walk over to the closet, and open it. I've never had a closet. Nor do I have anything to put inside it. It’s a shame really, considering it’s so big. Hell, it’s about as big as the hole in the wall hotel room I was living in.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? I noticed you wincing as you walked up the stairs.” He’s still here. I thought he would’ve left by now. Why does he care if I’m in pain? Who the hell is this guy? I repeatedly tell myself not to trust him no matter what.

“I'm fine, thank you.” I make my way toward the bed pull my worn Puma sneakers off and kick them across the floor. Climbing up onto the bed, I melt into the sea of decorative pillows, drinking in the absolute comfort. Exactly what I need to try to relax.

“Well, I guess I’ll head back downstairs. If you need anything, I wrote my number on the back of this card.” He places the small white business card on the side of the bed and makes his way to the door. Before he can shut it behind himself, I raise my voice to the loudest I’ve been in weeks.

“River.” He pauses and looks back at me with those intense eyes I’ve already fallen head over heels for. “Thank you,” and like that he is gone and I’m alone with my thoughts once again.

A soft knock on the door wakes me. Slowly, it pushes open and someone quietly enters. I’m groggy and my eyes are blurry. I can't see who it is, but I can distinctly smell a man. I pretend I’m still asleep, carefully peeking out from under my thick eyelashes. He quietly places a glass of bubbling soda on the nightstand along with a couple pills and a small note before quickly exiting the room.

I let out a sigh of relief once he is gone. My trust for anyone is nonexistent. Especially men.

I stretch across the bed and pick up the phone I tossed earlier to check the time. I laugh when I realize I slept for three damn hours, but I’m finally starting to feel slightly better. I eye the pills wondering what the medicine fairy delivered me, and notice they are only tylenol, so I pop two into my mouth and chase it down with the ice cold ginger ale. It feels so good going down. Exactly what I needed.

The note remains folded, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I reach for it, carefully unfolding it as if something is going to jump out and bite me. Stunning script covers the page, and his words leave me feeling good.

Paisley,

I hope this helps. Ginger ale always makes me feel better when I am sick.

If you need a friend, I’m here.

River

Do I really need him as a friend? Can I ever have a man as a friend after what’s happened to me? Or can I just survive with only Star in this small town? With everything I’ve been through in the last couple weeks, maybe a friend is exactly what I need. Even if he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid my eyes on - even if he is a man in general. God I hate men.

I pick up my phone and open a text message, carefully typing in the number he scribbled down on the back of the motel business card earlier.

It’s Paisley.

Thank you for everything.

What is There to Be Thankful For?

Thanksgiving morning I find myself bundled up in a couple extra layers of warm clothes I begged Star for so I could go for a walk. I lace up my beat up old sneakers and walk through the backyard. I finally find some sort of peace, which was solely provided by nature. In the distance a deer frolicked, running free in and out of the pine trees surrounding the small semi-frozen pond.

I use my time wisely, reflecting on the year - searching for something to be thankful for besides my sister's blessings. Of course I’m thrilled to have her daughter, Magnolia, in our lives while Star became a better person. I never thought I’d see the day. Life has a funny way of working itself out. But, when I searched my own life, the only thing I could be thankful for at the moment was modern medicine and the bedroom my sister had graciously provided for me.

At my age I should have a career, love - even a small shitty apartment. I had nothing but shit other people had given to me - the same people who busted their asses trying to better themselves in the smallest of ways. They had the same upbringing, but rose above and became good people. I let out a long sigh.

Sitting down cross-legged in the middle of the field, I start talking - pouring it all out.

“I'm sorry. I’m sorry for my careless choice that made you. I’m sorry I couldn't live with myself bringing you into the world. I’m sorry for taking your life. I can only hope that one day, you can bring yourself to forgive me for my transgressions. I will pray for your forgiveness every day. I was never fit to be your mother, you deserve so much better.”

The tears roll down my face and I let it all out - talking to the child I would never know. The gray sky chose that moment to open and the cold white flurries start to fall. The snow cascades around me as I will myself to stand and walk back toward the house my sister beautifully restored. Every step of the way I continue to pray for forgiveness, knowing I may never be at peace for my sins.

Whatever happened to me while sitting in that field helped. Whereas I couldn’t heal overnight, it helped lift something from my soul. Whether I’d been granted a bit of forgiveness didn’t matter. I got what I needed.

Cars sounded in the distance and a truck roared up the narrow gravel driveway. I ignore everyone arriving because I know no one. These are all strangers, new family and friends in Star's life. People I wasn't ready to open up to. People I don’t know if I could ever let in.

The crowd disperses into the house and I sit in a white Adirondack chair on the porch watching the snowfall. Something about the beauty and peace kept me prisoner to the view. My body is nearly frozen solid, my nose bright red, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m comfortably numb for the first time and I desperately need to stay this way.

A motorcycle flies up the driveway, parking behind Chrome's massive pickup truck. I ignore the bike just like I ignore all the other bikers that had come and gone from the house in the past twenty-four hours since I’d arrived. With Star's boyfriend being some biker gang hot shot, I was forced to deal with the constant reminder of him--not knowing if I would ever be fully comfortable around any of them.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and a chill surges through my body. Something was off. I’m suddenly overcome with the urge to run and hide in my room again. Something that I was becoming excellent at.

Boots stomp through the gravel and stop at the bottom of the wooden steps. The feeling of being watched snaps me out of my peaceful daydream. Dragging my eyes up to view my audience, my blood runs cold as I look into the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen. Except they weren't on River. His face was familiar; scruffy with the same nasty scar I've been having nightmares about for weeks. My heart completely stops and I feel panic.

Not even dozens of states could keep him from finding me. Internally panicking, I can't move and he just watches. Not a word exchanged. Scared, but realizing the amount of people who would come running at a simple scream, I boldly puff out my chest and make my move, even though I want to curl up in a ball and cry like a baby.

“Do not fucking come any closer. You turn around, get on that bike and leave or I’m calling the police.” His expression darkens, the playful grin gone. His boot collids with the next step and then the next until he was feet away from me. My body tenses to the point that my muscles absolutely ache, and I pray he won't come any closer. I pray silently for help. Pray he stays away from me and leaves. Pray I would never see his face again.

“Can we talk for a moment?” Talk? He wants to fucking talk for a moment? About what? His fucking savage behavior? I don't think so.

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re a fucking monster and you need to go. If you come any closer to me, I’m going to scream and I can promise you it won't be pretty.” The playful grin appears on his face once again as he crouches down to my level. That’s when I notice all the changes.

He cut his hair, actually took a shower and shaved all the hair from his face. He looks different, clean cut. But, I would never forget that scar.

“Since I never caught your name, I'm just gonna call you Suga'. You can scream all you want, but ain't nobody here gonna help you, Suga'. These are my people. My brothers. I'll do what I want, when I want. Now, I never expected a piece of stripper trash like yourself to be so
pure,
but I never thought I would come home for Thanksgiving with my family and see such a fine piece of ass sittin' on the porch.” His words turn my stomach and make me sick. His
brothers
? Is that what these nasty bikers considered themselves? Family? Chrome or not, he isn’t going to talk to me or treat me this way. I can’t let him break me again.

“This is my family. This is my sister's house, and you need to leave. Now.” As the last word comes out of my mouth, the front door opens and River has puzzled look on his face. His eyes bounce back and forth between the scene. Was it apparent that I was scared? Would he drag this monster away so I could go lock myself in my bedroom and hide through the holiday I almost had the opportunity to enjoy? Fuck this shit. I should have never come back to Woodstock; nothing good ever comes from this place anyway.

“Paisley, are you okay?” River's tone warms me and comforts me. His concern was clear, as his brother stands up.

“Yeah, I was just going upstairs.” I stand on shaky feet and run for the stairs as fast as my feet can take me. Two steps at a time until I was behind the safety of my door, slamming it shut and locking it tight.

Out of all the places in the world he could be, why would he come here?

Dear God. Is this my punishment?

“Paisley, open up.” River knocks on my door again as lie in a fetal position in the center of my bed. The knocking continues as River talks through the door. “If you don't open it, I’m going to break the fuckin' thing down, Paisley!”
Go ahead, break it down. What do I care?

A key rattles in the lock and the door pops open. River slips into the room before closing the door and securing the lock back in place. The damage is done already though. I can't move. I can't think of anything other than waking up bruised and bloody in my hotel room after that monster brutalized me. The man with the same beautiful green eyes I’d pathetically fallen for just a few days before. How could my feelings be so fucked up and scattered all over the place?

I’m so not up for dealing with this shit. I’m too broken. Too spent.

“Paisley, talk to me.” River's voice echoes through the emptiness of the impersonal bedroom, but all I can do is continue to lie on the bed, curled up in a ball trying to protect myself. Memory after memory floods through me like a black and white movie reel. A film strip of the attack. His fist hitting my face, his hand on my throat. I don't realize it, but I am struggling for air as I cry into the comforter. My body convulses and I grip myself tighter.