Corrupted (4 page)

Today is my birthday.

I have been at the clubhouse for a month now, and it has really started to feel like home. The guys embraced me more than I ever could have imagined. They all joke about my age and call me their little sister. It feels good to have a positive sense of family. Shooter told them they didn’t need to change around me, but I feel like they are less wild when I’m around. I know from what the clubhouse looks like in the morning that it’s a totally different story from when I go to bed. Even though my room is at the end of the hall, I can still hear all of the parties. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about them.

Tracie isn’t bad. Her Mary nickname has now caught on through the whole club though, which is awesome. It’s not like they all don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of freak already. She is kind of like my mother figure in the house though. She always checks in on me and I feel like she is the only real friend I have here. We talk about my old life, things I would never tell any of the other girls. I can tell she is intrigued by it, whereas all I want to do is forget it.

I asked Tracie about the parties yesterday and she said she didn’t want to corrupt my virginal mind. She is always picking on me about being sweet and innocent, but it’s not in a mean way. Even with everything I lived through with my natural family, it has been really easy for me to accept Tracie and the guys as my new family.

Jordan is always around too. He gave me a phone a few days after I arrived and even when the club has him out doing things, he is checking in with me. Part of me hopes it’s due to more than just obligation. When he is around, I feel like my heart beats twice as fast. I can’t help but smile, and I know how cheesy that sounds. Seeing the types of relationships I did growing up, I didn’t imagine that a boy could make me feel like this.

I wish I were turning eighteen instead of fifteen today. Every time he looks at me, I feel like he sees a child. I want him to really see me. I want him to notice the girl that thinks he’s cute and wishes he would kiss her. My infatuation with him has been growing and every time he is near me, I want to confess it to him. The fear of rejection is way too strong for me to ever consider doing that.

The boys have let me know that there is a search party for me. My family has been all over the news feigning sorrow and praying for my safe return. Little does everyone know if I did return safely I wouldn’t stay that way for long. I understand why I can’t leave the clubhouse but sometimes I just feel so trapped. I’m a prisoner in my own life. I can’t have any relationships outside of the club. It’s almost as if I’ve traded one prison for another, at least in this one I feel safe. I can’t trust anyone outside of the club. I feel paranoid at all times that someone will see me that shouldn’t, or that my family will find me.

The girls that hang around barely pay me any mind. They might say hello as they pass me on the way to a brother’s room, but that’s about it. Then there is Venus who is determined to make my life hell. I always see her talking about me to the other girls, the way she’ll look my way and start laughing. I’ve never even spoken to her so I really don’t get what I could have possibly done. It sucks.

I spend my days here cooking the guy’s meals and keeping things clean around the clubhouse. I am so thankful that they all welcomed me into their family.

Today is a day where I wish I had a normal family. The kind you watch on TV shows where everyone is always smiling. One where you could wake up on your birthday and come downstairs to find decorations, and presents. To have people who love you surround you.

I stand up throwing on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve pink t-shirt. I laugh looking in the mirror thinking of the day Tracie brought me home this shirt.
I picked the girliest damn color that made me want to puke, and figured you would love it.
Tracie’s wardrobe consisted of red, black, and gray. When she handed me the shirt, she was holding it out as if the girly color might rub off on her. I run my fingers through my long waves as I look at my reflection. I’m so plain compared to all of these girls.

I head out into the main room, ready to get this day over with. I stop dead in my tracks, completely shocked at what I see. Balloons and decorations are strewn throughout the main room. Jordan, Tracie, Shooter, and the boys are all standing in the middle of the room. Jordan sees me first, smiling at my obvious shock. Everyone yells “happy birthday” and a huge smile breaks out across my face.

Jordan walks over to me. “Thought we would forget? Happy birthday, Sweets.” He gives me a hug before stepping to the side as everyone else descends upon me. I look around at the room full of people that have taken me in and my eyes begin to well with tears.

I never really got to celebrate a birthday before. In my family there were so many of us kids that it wasn’t practical to celebrate everyone’s birthday. My dad had so many wives I don’t even think he could keep up with all of the kid’s birthdays. My sisters and I would sometimes have little parties for each other in our rooms after we were supposed to be in bed. There were never any presents given, or parties thrown for us by our parents.

Twisted walks through the door carrying boxes of doughnuts. He walks over to me with a very rare smile. “None of us can cook ‘cept you kid.” I shake my head and laugh, how they didn’t starve before I got here is a miracle. He places the doughnuts down and I grab one, thanking him.

I sit down at the table and look around me as I eat my birthday doughnut. Jordan sits down next to me. “I can’t believe you guys did this. I didn’t think anyone would remember.”

He shakes his head and laughs. “I will never forget your birthday for a couple of reasons.”

My smiles fades a bit. Right. My birthday is his countdown.

He slides me a box across the table. “This is a gift from all of us.”

I look around and everyone has made their way over. When I lift the lid of the box, I can’t help but smile. It’s a sweatshirt with the MC’s name on it.

“Turn it around!” Tracie shouts.

I flip the sweatshirt over and can’t help but laugh. On the back it says “Mary.” “I’m guessing this was your idea?”

“Well, you know . . . “ she shrugs.

Shooter walks over to me and pats me on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family, kid.”

Everyone starts to walk away but I can’t move.
Welcome to the family.
I’ve always had a family, but never really wanted one until now. This show of acceptance and love really makes me feel like I’m part of something.

“You okay?” Jordan is still sitting next to me.

“Yeah, I just don’t think any of you guys know how much this means to me.” I look over at him trying to hold back my girly tears.

He puts his arm around me and I freeze. “I don’t think you know how much you mean to us now.” There is electricity between us. I can feel it, and I want to say something to him. His statement confuses me because I really don’t know how I mean so much to them. I want to believe that they care about me, but then there is the little voice in the back of my head saying everyone has to watch out for me. I look at Jordan and his eyes are boring holes into me. “I gotta go. Happy birthday, Sweets.” He gets up and practically runs away from the table.

And me.

I’m cleaning up after the club’s party last night when Twisted comes racing through the door. “Pres! We got company! It’s the cops!”

I freeze behind the bar.

“Fuck! Jordan, get her out of here!” He yells.

“You got one minute, they are out of the cars.” Twisted’s voice is hard and rushed.

“Fuck!” Jordan grabs my hand. He looks across the room where the entrance to the hallway is. “Shit, we won’t make it.” He pulls me into the closet next to us. Once the door clicks, I hear the front door slam open.

In the small space, I’m pressed against Jordan’s chest, my hands resting on his hips.

“What can I help you with, sheriff?” I hear Shooter’s voice, but I’m dying to see what is going on.

“We got this search going on for a missing girl. Fifteen, name’s Lucy. Look familiar?”

“I ain’t never seen her. Fellas?” A murmur of no’s follow.

“Listen you dirty biker scum.” My entire body shakes. It’s my uncle. Jordan’s arms encircle me pulling me close to him as my body reacts to the presence of my demons. Usually this is enough to comfort me but when my nightmare is in the next room, nothing can ease the nerves running through me. “We checked everywhere the night she disappeared. The only place around was your warehouse.”

I bite my lip trying to get a hold of myself. He figured out where I went. He’ll bring me back eventually. I cry silent tears and Jordan’s arms tighten around me, quietly letting me know that he is here for me. I bury my head in his shirt the fear taking over my entire body.

“Warehouse is always kept locked.” Shooter’s tone is clipped, his answers short.

“I’m looking for her.” My uncle’s demonic voice is hard and determined. I hear footsteps and then a bunch of yelling and shuffling.

“This is my place and you ain’t looking for shit without a warrant. We ain’t got no girl here. Just because you can’t hold onto your own, doesn’t mean you’ll get free rein here.” Oh my God. Please don’t let him come over here. I shake against Jordan’s chest as I mentally picture the closet door swinging open. “Just ‘cause you brought a badge, don’t mean you can trespass wherever ya want.”

“Shooter, calm down now.” The officer’s tone is steady. A moment passes and you can hear a pin drop. “Simon, we don’t have any right to search the place. I told you we could come ask, that’s it.” I can imagine my uncle’s face turning red in anger the way it always did. My limbs shake as visions of him breaking free from the boys and ripping this door open flash through my mind.

My hands grip Jordan’s t-shirt as if I’m holding onto it for dear life. His hand comes up and runs through my hair. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead and I lay my head on his chest. I try to focus on his breathing letting the deep breaths anchor me to him.

“I suggest you two gentlemen get the fuck out of here. Next time you wanna barge in here without an invitation you better come with a goddamn warrant.” Shooter’s tone is rough and I can tell he is losing patience.

“You do know that if you’re caught with a minor, you’re all fucked.” My uncle’s voice seethes at them, his contempt dripping from the tone of his voice. Footsteps sound followed by the slamming of a door.

My body sags against Jordan’s, my legs unable to hold up the weight of my body. His arms catch me, lifting me off my feet. My entire body is shaking. My head is spinning with the thoughts of how close he came to finding me.

Is this it? Will they kick me out? Where will I go? Shooter said any problems and I was out.

Jordan opens the door and I cling to him. Fear and anxiety are running rampant in my body right now. He starts to walk, I can hear the brothers calling him, but he just keeps going. Where is he taking me? When he puts me down, I open my eyes. I’m in my room.

“Give me a minute, Sweets. I’ll be right back.”

I lay there hugging the blankets as I try to calm myself down. My body curls into the fetal position as it always did when I was trying to defend myself from the evils I faced in my family. My uncle is a monster; he has already had two of his wives die from “suicide.” Which in our community means that they were not obedient and he beat them to death. From the little I have heard, he has a problem with not knowing when to stop and he ended up killing them. When I was told that he would be my husband it was like a death sentence. I was never cut out for that life.

I had never felt like I fit in even when I was a kid. I always questioned my mother when she would tell me what would be expected of me, or when she would teach me things “I would need to know.” I think she always knew I wouldn’t be a good fit in the community, maybe that’s why it was decided I would marry Uncle Simon. Out of all the men in the community, he was by far the hardest on his wives, everyone knew it. While they claim that God tells the prophet whom the girls should marry, I always thought that was a lie.

The door opens again making me jump. Jordan walks back in and comes over to me. He sits down and pulls me so that my head is resting on his lap. He doesn’t say a word; we both just sit there as he runs his hand through my hair.

“Do I have to leave?” I finally break the silence. I need to know my fate.

His hand stops moving in my hair. He lifts me so I’m sitting in front of him. “Is everyone happy that those assholes showed up? Fuck no. That doesn’t mean we will turn our backs on you. We gave our word to help and protect you and we damn sure meant it. Pres is actually tearing Twisted a new asshole because the cops snuck in behind him.”

“I just hate feeling like I am a burden to everyone.” I look down as I fidget with my hands.

“You aren’t. From what you’ve said and the way your body reacted to hearing his voice, I’m glad you got out of there. Don’t doubt your place here.” I look into his eyes and I believe every word. Within my family everything was held over your head. You were taught that you should be thankful that you were even being fed.

“What is my place here?” I am so unsure of myself, so insecure. That’s how my family liked you. They didn’t want women to be confident in themselves or feel good. If you were then you might start to think for yourself and the whole system would fall apart.

“Your place here is that you are a part of this family. You are one of us. You are home.” His eyes stare into mine.

Home.
It was a word that to most people, was something that was taken for granted. My home for most of my life was hell. Adjusting to that word meaning something good would take some getting used to. It is definitely going to be an adjustment being here, and realizing that everything I knew before was wrong.

“I need to go talk to the guys. You okay?” I nod. He pauses before standing up, the two of us just looking at each other. I remember the way it felt when he kissed me. His lips were soft, his touch gentle. I want to feel it again.

He stands quickly and exits my room.

Wishful thinking.