Chapter 10

Priscilla

A fter being woken up by Rage’s call, I force myself to crawl out of bed and get into the shower. As the warm water cascades down onto my body, I think about last night. Rage has always been a badass, even when we were teens. He didn’t take shit from anyone, unlike me who just had to suck it up and do as I was told. I envied his bravery, his willingness to step up and protect me, and how he just went straight for what he wanted in life.

Now that I’ve put a little distance between me and the events of yesterday, I can see that if I want to be with Rage—and he seems to be offering some kind of short-term interlude—I’ve got to pull my mess together and prove that I’m strong enough to be his counterweight in life. If I can prove myself, maybe he’ll see me as worthy of a longer-term commitment. The more I think about my situation, the more convinced I am that proving I can hang in his world is the best course of action because it leads to the one thing I want in life, more time with Rage.

I get dressed in jeans, a warm sweater, and boots. After pulling back my hair into a tight twist at the nape of my neck, I feel like I’m ready for whatever the day decides to hit me with. The first order of business this fine Saturday morning is to pick up my daughter from Meli’s place. I get Rage’s truck keys from the key rack and step out the back door.

The first thing I see is a young prospect playing with Boots. He’s got the grumpy older cat cradled on his back in the crook of his arm and is using the other hand to rub his belly and tease him with the tips of his fingers.

I warn him as I walk past, “That’s a nice way to lose a finger, prospect.”

He jumps to attention when he hears my voice. If this is one of the men meant to guard our home, God help us. This kid looks like he might not even be of age and he’s obviously highly distractible.

“Wait up, Miss Priscilla. Where are you going?”

“Out,” I say curtly.

“You can’t go out on your own. It’s not safe.”

“Well, I’ve got to pick my daughter up so, I guess I’ll just have to be really careful, okay?”

He drops Boots out of his arms, pulls his cellphone out and starts texting. “No can do, ma’am,” he says firmly. “If you go anywhere, we all have to go with you.”

I turn and stare at the young man. “You all. Exactly how many of you are there?”

“Four of us right now.” His phone beeps and he glances at the screen for a second and begins backing up. “Two of us will be in front of you and two behind. Remember, where you go, we go.”

This all sounds like a bit much to me but then again, I’m about to have my vulnerable daughter with me and some asshole had sent us headless animals yesterday. So, I turn around and get into Rage’s truck while the prospect runs for his motorcycle.

Within five minutes or so I’m driving down the interstate surrounded by members of the Savage Legion MC. Well, from what I can see, only one of them is an actual member. The other three are prospects which Rage explained are bikers in training. I smile to myself. Maybe I’m not in a lot a danger and this is just busy work for the young men they’re training. That actually sounds about right.

I hit the button on Rage’s stereo system and listen to the country music he picked out for his vehicle. I truly feel like I’m living in a different world than when I was with Conrad. Rage is smoking hot, gives mind-blowing orgasms, and is nice as pie, totally the opposite of the rich boy my parents leveraged me into marrying. I’d give anything to have all those miserable years back so I could spend them with Rage. I wonder what would have happened if I’d not believed my parents when they’d shown me the gravestone. If I’d gone to Rage’s foster home to ask them what happened to him. Maybe he would have understood that I didn’t want to have sex with Ashton and maybe he would have been happy to raise another man’s child. I sighed, the past was the past and all we had was the present and the future. I just wonder if my future could ever include Rage.

When I pull into Meli’s restaurant, the place is rocking. There are several dozen cars out front and people coming and going. I don’t see my daughter anywhere and that starts to worry me. I jump out of the truck, ignore my escort, and walk into the restaurant to look for Mia.

The lady who served us before, motions to the back with one hand. “They’re in the kitchen.” I can see that mostly people are clearing out, like they’ve just had a breakfast rush.

I don’t ask if I’m allowed to go back there because this is the new and improved Priscilla. I boldly walk back and right through the saloon doors to find both Meli and Mia sitting at a table. They’re rolling out cookie dough. Meli has the biggest glass of wine I’ve ever seen in one hand as she instructs my daughter in cutting out pretty shapes. She looks up at me when she senses movement and smiles as though she can’t help herself. I’m relieved because I definitely wasn’t her favorite person the last time I walked into her restaurant. I wonder if Rage has spoken to her about what happened between us back then and told her that I didn’t leave him willingly and I’d thought he was dead.

I smile and keep my voice light and pleasant. “Good morning, Meli. Thank you for allowing Mia to spend the night.”

“It was my pleasure. Your daughter is delightful.”

“She loves it here,” I say.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asks, waving the bottle in the air.

“I’d love one, but as I’m driving I’d better have a coffee instead if you have a pot ready,” I respond.

“ Mais oui,” Meli says as she slips out her chair and reaches for the French press.

I slide onto a stool beside my daughter as Meli pours me a cup of coffee that looks strong enough to get up and walk away and shoves a pretty platter of cheese and crackers over to me.

“I have to admit, the two of you look like you’re having fun this morning.”

Mia grins at me. “We always have fun. Last night we picked roses, chased lightning bugs, and roasted marshmallows in the fire pit. This morning Meli is going to teach me how to make strawberry conserve. That’s like fancy French jelly.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you near the strawberries,” I say.

“Oh do not worry,” Meli puts her hand on the back of mine, “The pan will be hot so I will make sure she only watches. Though afterwards we can eat fresh croissants with the conserve.”

“It’s not that,” I say. “She’s allergic. It’s not a deadly allergy, but if she eats them, she gets hives.”

Meli suddenly goes silent.

I look at her and she narrows her eyes, “This is very strange.”

“What is?” I ask.

“Rage, he too has an allergy.”

I’m silent for a moment, I know what she’s hinting at. I need to tell her about Ashton before she accuses me of lying to Rage again. I watch Mia who’s nibbling on cheese. “Mia, sweetheart, do you want to play on the porch with Barley while I speak to Meli for a moment? There are some nice men from Rage’s club there who can keep an eye on you.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she says and skips off happily.

Once we are alone, Meli fixes me with her clear gray eyes, “So you were lying to me?”

“I wasn’t,” I say, and suddenly the tears start to fall.

“Oh ma petite , please do not cry. Here, have wine and we shall talk,” she leans over and pours a generous serving into a wine glass and nudges it towards me.

I rub my eyes on my sleeve and take a sip, “I didn’t lie, Rage isn’t Mia’s father.”

“ Bof , this can’t be true. They are identical, why do you insist on denying it?” She takes a sip of her wine and pulls the bowl of strawberries towards her and picks up a paring knife.

“Because he isn’t, he can’t be, even if I wish so much that he was.”

“But you were his sweetheart, no?” she asks as she starts hulling the fruit.

“Yes, we dated throughout high school,” I say, my voice flat because I know I’m going to have to tell her about the worst time of my life.

“And you were intimate?” She stops cutting for a moment.

I nod.

Meli gives a Gallic shrug, “So, I do not see how you insist he isn’t the father.”

That’s all it takes for the tears to flow again.

“No, no, this will not do. No tears in my kitchen, tell me what happened. They say a problem shared is a problem halved,” Meli says as she hands me a piece of paper towel from the roll on the table.

“It’s more than a problem,” I say, my voice is shaky. Other than my parents who tried to cover everything up, I’ve never told a single person what happened to me that night. Looking back, maybe if I had told Conrad then we might have been closer, that’s if he knew what his brother did. Or maybe it was only his father who was in on it. Or maybe his father, like Conrad, thought Mia was Rage’s. “We were so in love, I was going to college in the fall and Ray was staying in Las Salinas, I truly believed we would be together forever and we’d survive being apart. A week before I was due to leave, I was heading home from a friend’s house when I was attacked,” I pause and look at Meli.

“Attacked?” she starts to say, and then suddenly a look of understanding flashes over her face. “Oh my poor child, this man he- he—”

“Yes,” I say.

“And he was arrested?” Meli asks, she motions for me to take another sip of my wine, and it goes down smoothly.

I shake my head, “I told my parents, I knew him. He was my husband’s brother—the man who became my husband I should say, I didn’t really know Conrad well then. They came from a rich family and my parents told me that no one would believe me. I was so ashamed, I couldn’t face telling Ray what had happened. I was distraught, I felt dirty and I was scared he might think I asked for it—”

“Never!” Meli says emphatically, “Rage would never do such a thing.”

“At the time I didn’t know what to do, so I told my parents I didn’t want to see him, I blocked his number, and I left for college.”

“So you did leave him,” she says. Her voice isn’t accusatory this time and I can see the compassion in her eyes.

“Yes, and it’s something I regret bitterly. Especially now I know he didn’t die.”

“Die?” Meli asks, her eyes wide.

I take another mouthful of wine, and then another, and another. Meli tops up my glass and waits for me to continue. “I’d been in college for around six weeks when I started getting sick. At first, I thought I might have caught something, and then I realized I was pregnant. Ray and I always used condoms, so I knew…” my words trail off.

Meli reaches out and places her hand on mine, “You poor, poor child.”

“I didn’t know what to do, but I had to tell my parents, a week before I came home for winter break, I phoned them and told them what had happened. They were horrified, but told me to tell no one, I told them that I wanted to speak to Ray, tell him what happened and that maybe he’d take me back and forgive me for running off without a word. My parents were angry and told me that I’d ruin my entire life if I married a man like that. But I was determined, I had to speak to him.” I realize that the tears are running down my cheeks, speaking the words that had been choked up inside me for the last eleven years was cathartic, but also terrifying.

“Would he listen to you?” she asks.

I reach for the wine glass and upend it, “He was dead. That’s what my parents told me, that he’d died in an accident five days before. I refused to believe them, I said I wanted to go to Ray’s foster mother and ask, but instead they bundled me in their car and took me to his graveside.”

“His graveside?” Meli was incredulous.

“There was a gravestone with his date of birth and date of death. It was all there, he was gone and I had missed my chance at telling him what happened.” I let out a long breath, I was almost done. The rest I’d only learned recently, “My parents arranged for me to marry Ashton’s brother. I was so stupid then, looking back now I can’t believe how I blindly followed their advice. They told me that the only chance I had of having a good life was if I married Conrad, apparently, he’d always liked me. The thought of marrying into the family of my attacker was beyond crazy, but I learned that Ashton had been admitted to a long-stay psychiatric hospital. My parents told me not to breathe a word about the father of my baby, that if anyone asked, then to tell them it was Raymond’s. I wanted the baby to be his so badly, if I couldn’t tell him I was sorry, then the least I could do would be to raise his child, but I knew she couldn’t be his. But that was the official story, that I was pregnant by my dead biker boyfriend. I realize now that my parents came to an agreement with Conrad and Ashton’s father, in return for not pressing charges and scandalizing the entire Whitmore family, they would get a monthly stipend. Conrad also got money from his parents for putting up with me and my daughter.”

“This is shocking!” Meli exclaimed, “And your husband, was he in on this too? This is the man who shot you, no?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Our marriage was unconventional, we never loved each other but he wasn’t an unkind man. Though in hindsight, I suppose if he had been forced to marry me to save his brother from criminal charges then he might have been bitter. Things changed when his brother was released from hospital last year. Conrad started drinking heavily and acting erratically. I wondered if maybe he was suffering from the same problems that his brother did.”

“And your parents, Rage tells me that you are not in contact with them?” Meli asks.

“After the marriage our relationship got more strained, they left to live on the East Coast, and we don’t talk. I guess I blamed them for everything, for telling me not to report the attack, and for making me marry Conrad. And since I learned that they faked Ray’s death and told him I didn’t want anything to do with him and had moved on, I think that blame is justified.”

Meli was silent for a moment. She shoved the bowl of hulled strawberries to the side of the table and took a hold of my hand, “You have to tell Rage all this.”

“But what good would it do?” I say.

“As I told you before, I have eyes that see. I see Mia and I see Rage, don’t be so sure that he isn’t her father, you need to tell him this.”

I knew I did, but that would be a discussion for another day and Meli promised that she would not breathe a word to Rage. Thankfully after I’d gotten all that off my chest, I felt lighter than I had in years. Though perhaps the generous glass of wine I’d drunk had helped.

We continue chatting for almost an hour, until my wine has all disappeared into my belly along with some lovely gourmet cheeses and wheat crackers. I saw Meli send out a few texts, but I couldn’t manage to feel any genuine curiosity. All I feel is warm and peaceful on the inside after telling someone my deepest, darkest secret. This is about the time that I realize that I can’t really drive because I drank a bit too much. The idea pops into my head that maybe we can put one of the bikes into the back of Rage’s truck and one of my escorts can drive us back to Rage’s place.

Meli puts some croissants into a container and gestures for me to stand up. My feet wobble a bit, “I can’t drive, Meli.”

“Of course not, ma petite ,” she says as she links her arm with mine. “I asked someone to help.”

When we step outside, Rage is standing by his truck waiting on us. He was supposed to be working on that project with his club brothers today, but he came here instead. Even in my tipsy condition. I feel myself turning red with embarrassment, only for Meli to step closer and shove a huge bottle of wine into my hands. “You have been through much and deserve to relax. Remember, talking is good.”

I give her a tight hug, because this woman genuinely understands how hard life can be sometimes. She might not be Rage’s birth mother, but she clearly cares for him, and I am so happy he has someone like this in his life.

Rage steps out to meet me, slides the bottle of wine out from under my arm and places it in a box behind his seat. As well as the croissants there are other delicious things. I assume her staff loaded him up with breakfast leftovers.

“You feeling better, Prissy?”

I nod, giving him my best smile. “Yesterday kind of sucked but last night and this morning more than made up for it.”

His face lights up at my genuine compliment. “I’m off for the rest of the day, so we can do whatever you like.”

Mia squeals, “Can we see a movie and go out for ice cream?”

Rage smothers back a smile. “We sure can. Did you have a movie in mind?”

“I’m dying to see Evolution of the Clone. It’s sci-fi and it’s really good. Everyone has been talking about it.”

Rage responds thoughtfully. “I’ve heard it’s a freaking thrill a minute. Do you want to call any of your friends? We can pick them up if they want to join the fun.”

Mia jumps for joy, causing Barley to come running over to see what all the excitement is about. Out comes her cellphone and she begins texting away. Rage wraps one arm around me and gently draws me closer. But instead of talking to me, he talks to Meli. “See, I did good, didn’t I?”

It takes my alcohol-addled brain a second to realize he’s subtly asking her if picking Mia and me was a good idea.

Meli gives him an indulgent smile. I don’t even know how to handle all the niceness inherent in this morning. It enables me to finally relax and let my guard down. It doesn’t even occur to me to feel guilty about drinking the wine Meli offered me or nibbling on cheese for breakfast. Apparently, breaking the rules occasionally is considered a virtue in Rage and Meli’s world.

Meli walks around to speak with Rage before he gets into the driver’s seat. Whatever they talk about has him frowning for a few moments and I had an awful thought that she is telling him what I’d just told her. She catches my eye and gives a curt shake of her head, but when Rage isn’t looking, she mouths, ‘talk to him’ at me.

I start to relax and enjoy the wine buzz, when I giggle like a drunken co-ed Rage smiles indulgently at me. He’s the kind of guy that’s really handsome but a smile makes him twice as attractive.

***

We drive around picking up Siege’s daughter, Louisa, and Rider’s daughter, Amy. The three girls turn into chatterboxes in the back of Rage’s truck, all crammed on those little seats, grazing on things from the food bags. They’re all whispering about how lucky Mia is to have Meli for a grandma. They think that she’s Mia’s grandmother by virtue of the fact that we’re living with Rage and present like a couple. I let that roll around in my head for a moment, especially given what Meli said about Rage’s allergy. I don’t know how that works, can allergies be inherited? I do need to talk to Rage, but I also need to know if he is Mia’s father. I don’t want to spring one possible surprise on him and take it away with the other hand when DNA tests show he isn’t her father. Maybe that’s what I should do first? I need to see if I can get a DNA test done and then I can talk to him and tell him the whole truth.

I’m dragged out from my musings by the sound of giggling, Rage must have said something funny because all three girls are laughing so hard tears are running down their faces, and I feel like my heart is about to burst. My little girl needs this in her life. Feeling warm and happy, I find myself daydreaming about how nice it would be to have this kind of friendship and support in our lives full time and forever. When I glance over at Rage, he’s sneaking glances at me as well. This whole situation feels like what a true family should be.

Once we’re at the movie theater, we take the girls to the concession stand and buy them popcorn, chocolate, and soda pops. They’re excited and having the time of their lives, I guess in these days of streaming TV and twenty-four-hour movie channels, actual cinema trips are becoming a rarity.

When we settle down into our seats, I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. I’m just so happy to be spending time with him again. I rest my head on his shoulder as the preview starts playing. I can’t believe how everything goes off without a hitch. There is no arguing, bullying, or snarky comments. I realize on the way home that this is how life is supposed to be, just nice people spending relaxing time together.

Mia’s special day turns into a pajama party when the other two ask to stay over. Rage honestly doesn’t seem bothered having his house invaded by a bunch of tweens, nor does he seem to be aware that this is the most amazing social experience my daughter has ever had. When we were with Conrad, life was so restrictive. Once more I wonder if Conrad knew the truth about what his brother had done, I’d thought he was angry and resented being married to me, but maybe some of that resentment was from him having to clear up his brother’s mess and put his own plans on hold. It might explain why he started to go off the rails when Ashton was released from the psychiatric hospital.

The girls play in the yard with Mister Boots and the prospects, as the stern-faced brother looks on, I wonder if he’s been sent to check up on them or monitor that they’re doing their jobs correctly. Does prospecting work that way? Another prospect shows up after a couple of hours with a package that he takes inside. When I wander into the house to see what he’s doing I see him and Rage setting up a small white tent in front of the large screen TV in the living room. They throw in a blow-up mattress, bedding, toss cushions, large bowls of snacks and drape fairy lights around the entrance. I literally don’t know how Rage does it, but he makes everything look easy.

By this time, I’m just staring at them as they literally make the kind of magic that children really appreciate. God, I want this man to be Mia’s dad in the worst way possible, but looking at him with her, the thought comes to my mind that even if I was right all along and her father is Ashton, that Rage might still want us as a family.

Rage, still on his knees after finishing the lights jokes, “Prissy girl, don’t look so impressed. I didn’t make this up all on my own. Siege’s old lady does this for the kids. I just borrowed her idea.”

I kneel down in front of him and take his hands in mine. “This is still a really wonderful thing you’re doing, babe. Not many men really get kids, especially girls. You’re doing a bang-up job of making my daughter’s life better than it ever was before.”

His eyebrows fly up. “You have got to be shitting me. This is beginners keeping kids distracted activities.” Reaching into his bag, he pulls out two movies. Shaking one, he says, “ Kids in Space or Kid Spies ? Which one do you think they’ll like the best?”

I fling my arms around his neck and give him a kiss, hopefully, one he won’t soon forget. “Thank you for taking us in and for being so nice to us. After everything we’ve been though we really needed you in our life.”

He eases up back onto the floor and rolls us over, putting me on top. Pulling the twist out of my hair and raking his fingers through it, he looks into my eyes and says, “Tell me more about how amazing I am. That shit never gets old,”

Suddenly, there is giggling from three little girls and Mia is holding out a glass jar. “You can’t last an hour without saying a bad word, Rage.”

He sighs, sits up and digs through his pockets to fetch a dollar. He drops it into the jar and asks, “How much do we have so far?”

Mia replies, “Thirty-one dollars. I’ve been counting each and every time you put money in the jar.”

Rage groans, “That much? I must be cursing way more than I thought.”

My daughter replies sagely, “That’s the way bad habits are. Try to think before you curse.”

I think for a second that Rage is going to get mad, but he just chuckles and rubs the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed, and asks, “What do you think we should spend the money on when the jar is full?”

Mia shrugs, “I don’t know. Whatever you want. I have everything I’ve ever wanted and can’t think of a single thing I need.”

Rage laughs, “Beach vacation it is then.”

Mia is practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of a beach vacation. “That’s a fantastic idea! Can Louisa and Amy come too?”

Rage agrees before she even gets the words out, “Of course, if their parents say it’s okay. Friends make everything better.”

I slowly turn my head to look at him as Mia skips away to talk to her friends about the beach. I realize there is a double meaning in his words.