Page 13 of Sexy Beginnings
Chapter Eight
Lucy
It’s Thanksgiving and I’ve been at the club for a little over six months. Everything still seems so foreign to me. The guys have been welcoming for the most part and are constantly telling me that I’m family. I guess in a way I just don’t feel it.
I feel like I’m just passing through, without any real purpose here. My days and nights are spent cooking and cleaning. I’m so scared that I won’t live up to what they want from me and I’ll be out on the street.
There isn’t much for me to do here. I can’t leave the clubhouse. My family is looking for me and since I’m a minor and I’ve been reported missing, the MC could get in a lot of trouble for having me here. The guys have seen my uncle around town and the missing posters are still circulating. This means I can’t go to school either. Tracie has been bringing me books and stuff to read from the library and I’ve talked to her about taking a GED when I turn eighteen so I can at least have a diploma.
I make three meals a day even though Shooter only told me I need to make dinner. It helps to pass the time and I know the boys appreciate it. I usually give one of the guys my grocery list and they go out and get all the supplies. Usually the day after one of their parties is my busiest mainly because the place is a mess. You might think I would get resentful but I don’t. If I wasn’t cleaning or cooking, I’d just be sitting in my room. It’s lonely, but it’s safe.
As much as I hated it, there are things I miss from my old life. I miss my siblings, my sisters, the way we used to talk and laugh as we would be cleaning up and doing our chores. My sisters are the only part of my life that I still hold onto as being good, and something I want to remember. I miss the sense of family I had even if at times it was skewed.
Jordan always stays close to me and I’m not sure what to make of it. He is cute; I’ve never had a crush on a boy before. Mostly, I think that’s because all of the boys I ever knew were like the men in my family. I could have never been with someone in polygamy. I hated that life. How could you love someone and then be with someone else? I always believed that if you truly loved someone that they would be the only one you wanted. They would consume your every thought. That’s at least how I thought it should be. It was almost as if the wives were just used as baby making factories to carry on the man’s name. I wasn’t sure any of the women were ever truly loved. I didn’t want that for my life.
I check the food I have in the oven as Jordan comes walking into the kitchen. “Smells amazing, Sweets.” I smile at his nickname for me. Sometimes it gives me hope that maybe I mean something more to him. “Still think it’s crazy that you can cook like you do at your age.” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Well, we started learning how to cook once we were old enough to reach the stove.” I mix the cake batter for dessert as his eyes watch me carefully. “In my community cooking, cleaning, and being a good wife was what you needed to be perfect at. Since girls started to get married at fourteen, they wasted no time in teaching us everything we needed to know. You couldn’t become a wife and show up not being able to cook or anything.” I shrug my shoulders trying to make what I’m saying sound normal even though I have grown to understand it isn’t. Just by listening to all the passing conversations between the guys and Tracie I have realized how strange our ways really were.
The timer on the oven goes off letting me know the turkey is done. I open it, standing back a minute and letting the heat escape before reaching in to grab the large roasting pan. As I lift it out one of the handles slips splashing scolding juice on my wrist. Instinctively I open my hands dropping the pan to the floor and yelping from the burn. “Shit!” My hand immediately goes to my mouth as the first curse word I’ve ever said leaves my mouth.
The pan luckily lands right side up so the food isn’t ruined. Jordan rushes over picking it up and lifting it onto the counter. His hand then takes my wrist, inspecting the red blister that’s already starting to form. “You okay?” I nod. He walks me toward the sink turning on the faucet and running cold water over my wrist, the coolness soothing my skin. When he starts to laugh, I glance sideways at him. “Sorry, we all were runnin’ bets on when you’d finally jump the gun and dirty up your pretty mouth.”
My face and cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I’ve actually never cursed. It was just really hot.” His smile only grows wider. “You don’t have to enjoy it so much.”
“Yeah, I do.” He bends down wiping the juice that spilled. Thank God, knowing me I probably would have slipped on it. “‘Cause I won.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Well, congratulations.”
“Want help taking this stuff out?” He stands next to me.
I look at the island with all of the sides and turkey then nod. “Yeah, especially if you plan on eating it, instead of sweeping it up off the floor.”
We laugh as we start to bring things out to the tables. Any of the brothers who don’t have family close or family they want to visit are here. Once all of the food is set out Jordan calls everyone in.
We all sit down and as I look around me I let this holiday sink in, absorbing how different it is from my Thanksgivings in the past. Adults separated from the kids. Most of us scared to speak out of turn or be too loud and disturb our parents. There was always an underlying tension, a fear of being reprimanded.
Now I am in a place where most people would be scared to walk into. With people that most people cross the street to avoid.
And I feel safer than I ever have before.
