Page 59 of Waging War
“He was my father’s best friend and the vice president of the club at the time.” I lightly stroke her back when she stops. “He cornered me at home one day, just after my parents left to run an errand.”
My hand stills. If this guy is somehow still alive, he won’t be for long.
“Dad had forgotten the money he’d needed to fill up mom’s bike, and when he opened the door, he saw his VP pressing me up against the fridge.” Hazel’s laugh sounds raw and gritty. “Didn’t even blink when he pulled out his gun and fired a single deadly shot.”
Christ.
I imagine that experience has done some serious work on making her the hardass she is to this day.
“I’m glad,” I murmur.
When a smile tugs the corner of her mouth, I don’t think twice before bending to kiss it.
“Me too,” she says.
The back of my throat thickens as I recall a similar situation. I fight the bile sneaking up my esophagus and clear my aching throat. “I know what it’s like.”
Hazel pulls away from me slowly, turning those brilliant eyes up to mine.
This is not a conversation I expected to have so recently after letting her have her way with me, but I’m surprisingly unafraid to talk to her about it. Jack is the only person I’ve ever told, and that’s only because he remembers me shoving him into the closet.
“Our parents were strung out on meth for years before we were finally taken by CPS. There were nights Jack and I were picking crumbs out of the pantry for dinner, and other times, they’d bring home a feast. It was a total mindfuck.”
I tuck her into me, busying my hands by stroking her back again.
“We were so young. We had no clue what normal family behavior was or what wasn’t. But the partying and random people coming in and out of the house started becoming such an issue that we weren’t sleeping at night. People I didn’t trust would come over and stay for hours, passed out with our parents on the couch, the floor, or anywhere they felt like it.”
Hazel grabs my hand, lacing her fingers with mine to keep me steady long enough to finish.
“One of those nights, a stranger crept into our room. I scrambled to shove Jack into the closet before he could get to him, but he never even bothered.”
Fuck,my stomach rolls violently.
“He’d had his eye on me.”
She covers her mouth as the horror of what I’m saying hits her.
“I suppose I was fortunate that it only went so far.” I swallow hard. “But unwanted touches are something you never forget.”
Hazel cradles my face as her eyes brim with tears.
Ever so gently, she rises on her tippytoes and presses two soft kisses to my eyelids. “I’m so sorry, Ben.”
I give her a tender smile. “Me, too.”
* * *
“How could you possibly like this?” I shout over the engine of Hazel’s Harley.
She tosses her head back, laughing at my displeasure as I cling to her middle for dear life. Flying down the paved pathway leading away from the house, she guides us toward a small creek.
“Isn’t it amazing?” she hollers back, beaming like the little demon she is.
I could think of many things that riding this death machine would be, but amazing isnotone of them.
The engine sputters to a low rumble as she pulls up beside a small stream. After enjoying our coffee and then making lunch, she decided we’d waited long enough to get reacquainted with her bike. And I won’t be denying her any simple pleasures so long as that smile stays fixed on her lips.
She cuts the engine, and we listen to the bubbling water mixing with the rustling branches of the bare trees around us.
