Page 29

Lynx

Watching her talk about her ex-husband makes me want to uncover the piece of shit and torture him a lot more than what we had. The urge to beat something was coursing through my body.

“When I first met him, he did everything right. He gave me something I was looking for. Understanding, support and love. He let me know that even though I felt invisible in a world that was so vibrant, I was still the neon sign I deserved to be,” she continues to talk about all the things he made her feel.

“You know you have all that, without having to feel the hand of an abuser,” I state, stepping up to the edge of the sand and rock and looking out over Lake Nipissing. The thoughts of how she lived, making the rage burn a lot deeper than anything I have ever felt.

“I started understanding that he was violent after the first time he broke my arm. I started to save money in an off shore account. The only person that knew about it was the nurse who set my bone. She gave me a card with a number on it. I had kept it in my wallet, until one day he was digging through my purse, because he thought I was hiding something. When he pulled that card out, he asked whose number it was. Every time I would say I didn’t know, he would dislocate my fingers each knuckle at a time.

All eight fingers and two thumbs dislocated and broken, then my hands and wrists.

He was working his way up my arms when one of his buds called him to do a run that would take him away for months,” she states, her eyes searching the shoreline as the seagulls fly in and out before diving to the water and scooping up an unsuspecting fish.

“When did you finally get out?” I asked. I didn’t want to know, but it was one thing I needed to know to figure out where her mind is at.

“The only thing that matters is I got out. Both times. My psychiatrist helped me to see that I am worth more than what was done to me. In order for me to rise above the hurt and heartache, I needed to let go and rise above the fear. I still have times when fear takes hold in my heart and I freeze what I am doing, waiting for the other bat holder to swing. But then I close my eyes and take a breath,” she whispers, before turning to me.

“I never used to allow anyone in my house to discuss mortgages. I had it built into my business where everything was to be done via internet signature and the only way they knew me was by name, not by face. This helped me to stay visible and unnoticed at the same time. You crashed that by stepping up to me and forcing me to do business in the here and now.” She smiles at me, her hand rising to her blonde hair and brushing the stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face and pushing it behind her ear.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?” I ask, changing the subject from the heavy to the light.

“I want to do a quiet, secluded beach tour of Australia. Starting in Southern Australia and ending in Tasmania. No time period, just seclusion and peace,” she states, her eyes dropping to the rocks under our feet.

“Why Australia? I mean they have things that are small but could kill you,” I mumble, thinking about all the animals in Australia.

“We have small things that could kill you here. Only here they can’t be stomped on or kicked at.

I am tired of living in fear. So instead of running from things that go bump in the night, I want to rise above and move forward and live my best life,” she says, as her phone rings.

She looks down, presses a button, sending the call to voicemail.

“Jessikah, I need to tell you something.” I take a deep breath.

“When I walked into your office and you stood up, I was stunned. I have been around women for the majority of my life. Some beautiful, some ugly and some beautiful but their attitudes make them ugly. But you. Fuck Jessikah, you are stunning. A strong independent woman, with a strength that makes even the strongest man look weak. But you are beautiful, soft and delicious.” I step closer to her, making her raise her head to meet my eyes.

My hand lifts to her cheek and I slide it to the back of her head, pulling her closer to me.

“I have waited so long for this,” she whispers, her hands going to my cut, gripping the leather tight.

“I have waited for you.” Lowering my head, my nose rubbing against hers, before I turn my head and connect my lips with hers.

This woman will be the death of me, but I am okay with that.

***

We stayed at the beach, talking about everything. When it started to turn cold, I wrapped my arm around her and asked her to come back to the clubhouse. She countered with going to her house so we could be alone.

We agreed that for tonight we would do her place, but I wanted her at the clubhouse. I wanted to integrate her into the club. Let the brothers get used to her as my old lady and the president’s woman.

When we arrived at her place, she looked like she was going to run, but she stayed. She gripped my hand tight, before letting me climb out of the truck. I wasn’t going to do anything she didn’t want to do. It was her story, and she had to lead the way through the pages.

Walking up to her door, I watched as she pulled out what looked like a key fob and then she typed in a code and pressed the fob to the door.

“Okay, that’s cool. How did you find that safety notch. I have never seen a house open like a car.” She giggles, and opens the door, yelling for Moose to sit so we could come into the house.