Page 70 of The Biker and the Loner
They caught meoff-guard.
All because of freaking Isaac.
Had he not kept me up last night with all that noise from an apparent threesome, I wouldn't have slept until almost nine in the morning, and they wouldn't have been able to catch me unaware. Innately an early riser, I would’ve been up before the sun, long before Isaac, and whentheyknocked on the door, I wouldn't have allowed them in.
Freaking Isaac.
As it is right now, I'm paused at the entrance to the kitchen, staring back at the three women seated in rustic yellow chairs around Isaac’s rustic dining table.
Toni. Cookie. Kendra.
An intervention. That's what this is. Clearly, Kendra ratted me out.
"Is Zac throwing a party or something?" I mumble before continuing into the kitchen.
"We’re here to help you," Toni says.
I grab a bottle of OJ from the fridge. "Don't need it."
"Your wrist says otherwise," Kendra grits out. She's so darn pissed at me.
Straight from the bottle, I take a huge gulp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "That's none of your business, now is it? None ofy’all’sbusiness."
"Okay, I'm not doing the calm and gentle shit. I ain’t got the patience," Cookie says, outing her joint on the table. She gets up and moves to stand across from me at the peninsula. "According to Scratch, you're his woman—"
"I'm not."
"Oh, yeah?" She arches a brow at me. "Is that why you used to look at him like he hung the goddamn moon? Moving in and playing house with him? Sweetheart, you belonged to Scratch before you even began faking it with Grunt. Figured you out since day one. You've always been head over heels with that idiot."
When I only clench my jaw because I can't find it in me to refute her words, she carries on, "Right. As I was saying, according to Scratch, you're his woman. And if you're his woman, then we’re family—whether you want us to be or not. He told us your stepmom was all you had? Take a look at all three of us,weare your sisters now. And sisters don't let sisters cut themselves. Sisters don't let sisters grieve alone. You’re no longer a loner, so you’re not gonna be doing shit alone anymore."
Kendra sidles up beside her. "We're gonna invade your personal space and be all up in your business. And we won't'leave you alone' if we know it's not what's best for you."
Toni steps up beside Kendra. "We'll love you and care for you. Laugh with you and cry with you. We'll be here to help you when you need it, exhort you when you falter, and celebrate you when you succeed."
Taken aback, I glance from Toni to Cookie. "But...you don’t even know me. I'm nothing to you."
"You'rewoman," Toni says. "That's all that matters. Let us in, let us get to know you. Get to know us."
"Because we aren’t going anywhere," Cookie finishes, crossing her arms.
And that’s it. I couldn't fight it even if I wanted to.
In two hours, I’m packed up and transported to a "Spa Resort"—aka rehab.
And it'll turn out to be the best thing anyone could have ever done for me.
~
One of the things you doa lotof in rehab is think. Thoughts run amok. Wild and erratic. Punitive and endless.
So far, I have four weeks of hardcore thinking under my belt.
The women—Kendra, Toni, and Cookie—had initially checked me in for a two-week inpatient treatment. But after the first few talk throughs with my therapist, I knew I would stay longer.
The cutting wasn't the real problem, but merely a side-effect of a much larger issue—the sexual abuse. So that's what we attacked.
To say it was hard is an understatement. Some truly tough stuff to go through with a perfect stranger. My emotions fluctuated. There were days when I felt raw and wounded. Days when I was doggedly defiant, shut down and closed off. Days when I was optimistic and mirthful... A complete roller-coaster ride for weeks.
