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CHAPTER

SEVEN

Rayleigh

After Brick leaves, I curl into his pillow and let the tears I was holding flow while I quietly sob so no one hears me. Sharing most of what I’ve endured wasn’t easy; it brought a lot of emotions and dragged a lot of memories up that I’ve tried so hard to forget. Now, they’re on the tip of my mind and all of my inner demons are surfing the waves rolling inside of me. The fact of it all is my parents obviously hated me, otherwise why would they treat me so poorly?

Sometimes, I think it would’ve been better if they had just given me up for adoption when they had me. At least then, I would’ve maybe had a chance at a decent life. The promise Brick has made of helping me pick up the pieces and start one anew has me crying harder, only this time, they’re happy tears.

I may not know my exact birthday, and I’ve never celebrated any holiday, including Christmas, but I already know some of the things I’m going to do when I start working for the club. I’m going to decorate my personal living space according to the season, even if all I can afford are things from the dollar store. If they have one in town, that is. I don’t know anything about the area, but it wouldn’t matter if I did because I wasn’t allowed out and about unless it was to go to school. Even then, that only lasted for a few years until they took me out of school, because once that happened, I was confined to the house.

“You’re to be seen and not heard, Rayleigh, how many times have I told you this?” My mother’s voice screams inside my head as I wince over the remembered beating from daring to ask if I could have some butter for my bread.

“That was then, and this is now,” I remind myself. I have so much to learn about everything which has me feeling overwhelmed. I know how to keep wherever I live clean thanks to being responsible for that particular chore at home. Cooking is also something I can do, but I want to try new recipes and see what I prefer to eat. But handling money, being around others, furthering my education; those are some of the things I’m clueless about which soon has me crying even harder.

Finally, worn out from crying, I get up from the bed then head into the bathroom to try and get rid of the evidence left behind on my tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. Scouring through his cabinets, I find eye drops that I use to lessen the redness and then I scrub my face with soap and water. Once I’m satisfied I’ve done the best I can, I head back to his bed then slide between the sheet and comforter. My full belly, plus the long overdue crying session, has my eyes sliding shut as one last thing floats through my head.

I’m safe.

Low voices laughing wakes me from my sleep. Turning my head, I see the television is on and Brick is sprawled out on his couch. “You’re awake,” he says, his eyes roaming over me. “You definitely look more rested than you did earlier.”

“I feel better but think it has more to do with the fact I ate than my nap,” I reply.

His grin has my stomach doing that fluttery thing again. “Do you like pizza?” he asks.

“I’ve only ever had what they served at school during lunch, but I liked it.” I might have only been in school a few short years, but free lunches allowed me to get pizza every Friday. It was one of the highlights of my brief years in school, to be honest. Outside of that, I never left the house.

“Honey, that’s more like cardboard with tomato sauce on it, not pizza. I’ll get some ordered. I know you should probably still eat kind of light, but you tolerated the soup and bread just fine.”

“I think whatever your brother did helped,” I admit.

“You’ll have some clothes coming tomorrow as well. I ordered some things online. Whatever doesn’t fit or work, we’ll send back or donate, okay?”

“You didn’t need to go through all that trouble, Brick.”

“No trouble, Sprite.” I hear a noise then see him look at his phone. “If I show you a picture, would you be able to tell me if it’s Enoch?” he inquires.

Despite the fact I start shaking from the mere mention of his name, I nod in the affirmative. “Absolutely.”

He stands and walks toward me, then sits on the bed next to my hip, sending the fluttering into overdrive. Pushing a button, he flips his phone over so it’s facing me then asks, “Is this him?”

I take a deep breath. Exhale. Then fill my lungs with air once more. Finally, when I think I’ll be able to look at his phone without panicking, I glance down and the blood solidly freezes in my veins. Tears come unbidden to my eyes as I swallow several times before managing to squeak out, “Yes. That’s Enoch, my abuser.” Admitting this out loud for the first time makes me feel less like a victim and more like a survivor.

Strong arms wrap around me before I’m pulled onto his lap. As Brick starts talking, trying to soothe the fear which is causing me to shake uncontrollably. I don’t hear the words, my mind’s back in the shack where I was beaten nearly to death, yet the deep tone and vibration of his murmurs starts to replace the shock and terror with peace.

“I’m not a victim anymore,” I internally chant. I’m still struggling with my yo-yoing emotions, but as long as I keep reminding myself of this, the less of a burden I’ll feel. The rumbling of Brick’s voice makes me feel safe, alive, cherished, and protected. Until I’m secure with the new life provided to me, I’ll let his masculine presence relieve the fear gnawing inside of me.

“You’re safe, Rayleigh. No one is going to hurt you ever again, sweetheart. We’re going to take care of him, remember?” His words, which he’s been continuously repeating, finally sink into my head and I’m able to nod.

Instead of letting me go, he continues to hold me, one of his hands running up and down my back as he sends a message back to advise the recipient that the photo Brick’s shown to me is in fact, Enoch. I hear his phone chime and watch as he glances at it then chuckles. “What’s going on, Brick?” I ask, my voice still a bit tremulous.

“While it’s club business, let’s just say Enoch’s life is about to be changed forever,” he supplies. “Now, let’s get some pizza ordered so I can feed my woman.”

“What do you mean when you say your woman?”

He chuckles a bit as he does something on his phone while I’m still nestled in his arms, then states, “We should probably talk a bit more.”

That snarky voice inside of my head, who always stays hidden within me snorts, “Ya think?” I never express her words aloud, not after her sass escaped once upon a time when I was younger and earned me a dislocated jaw.

Instead of jumping into any kind of discussion, he told me to go take my bath while we waited for the pizza to arrive, so here I am, soaking in a hot bath complete with Epsom salts which he claims will help with any soreness that may still be lingering from my healing injuries. As I allow the warmth to seep into my bones, I think about everything that’s happened in such a short amount of time. There’s a lot to try and figure out, so I hope he’s going to be patient with me, especially since I’ve got a multitude of shortcomings.

Taking the washcloth he gave me, I resist the urge to scrub my skin raw, knowing I’m already clean thanks to Brick. With my face heating up in embarrassment, I carefully look at the bruises which are all that remain of the savage beating from Enoch. Well, except for the various scars covering my lower torso and upper legs. Some are jagged looking while others are short, tiny, iridescent white lines. I suspect most of them probably needed stitches at the time they occurred, which definitely didn’t happen for me seeing as no one cared if I bled to death or not.

“Scarecrow,” I whisper as the cloth slides across my ribcage. Every bone is pronounced, even my hip bones jut out. “Rae, you’re a mess.”

Quickly finishing up, I get out of the tub, pull the plug then dry off before slipping on the clean pair of sweats Brick placed on his dresser for me to use. Rolling up the sleeves on the arms as well as the legs, I look at myself in the mirror and screw up my face while sticking out my tongue at my reflection. I sure as hell won’t win any beauty contests right now. A brief thought crosses my mind which I shut down before it can firmly take root. I wonder if under different circumstances Brick would be interested in me.

“Fairytales aren’t real, dummy,” I chastise myself. I keep my voice down, instinctively knowing if Brick heard me, he’d be angry since I’m putting myself down once again. It’s all I’ve known, so if he expects me to change that part of who I am overnight, he’s going to find out differently. It’s gonna take me some time to get there.

Walking out of the bathroom, I smell something so delicious, my mouth begins watering in anticipation of tasting the blended flavors. “Pizza’s here,” he announces, waving me over to join him in his sitting area.

He’s pulled a coffee table over and there are two huge boxes currently open. A slice of each pizza is on the plate he hands me, while his plate has four pieces. Of each one! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat that much at one time, but he’s definitely larger than me so it’s probably more like a snack than a meal. “This smells wonderful,” I respond, leaning closer to sniff the pizza’s aroma, which causes him to chuckle.

“It tastes as good as it smells,” he teases.

Taking him at his word, I take a small bite and immediately moan as the flavors burst across my tongue. “Holy smokes,” I mumble around what I’m currently chewing. “This is much better than what I was served in school.”

“Didn’t I tell you how much better this would be?” he probes.

Instead of verbally answering, I merely nod, too intent on enjoying my slice of heavenly pizza. He chuckles at my enthusiasm over what to him is likely nothing special. But to me? It’s everything. My mood dampens slightly when I realize he may think I’m acting like a child, then he lightly reprimands me by saying, “I suspect everything from here on in may be new to you, but never lose your enthusiasm, Sprite. It’s refreshing.”

As my face heats up in embarrassment, I grab the can of soda he had put in front of me and take a long swallow. “I probably sound like a dork.”

“Not to me. Now, I said something earlier and I want to explain it a bit more. Because I found you, you’re under the protection of the Royal Bastards. Except, I find I’m attracted to you which is something I didn’t expect to happen. While I believe you’d make a good ol’ lady because you’ve proven you’re a survivor, I don’t think you’ve ever had any kind of freedom. Instead of forcing you to accept my claim on you, I want you to figure out what you want out of life first.”

Slowly shaking my head, I reply, “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying, Brick.”

“In my world, when a man takes a woman on as his ol’ lady, it’s forever. Unlike common citizens, which is what we call anyone who’s not a biker, we don’t divorce. The only way to break that claim is through death. So, if I claim you as my ol’ lady, you’re mine and I’m yours until one of us draws our last breath.”

Hmm, belong to him? My life might’ve been shitastic, but being called his wouldn’t be a hardship. “How long do I have to decide if I want this too?” I ask instead of begging him to make me his now.

“As long as you need. That doesn’t mean I won’t be around, but if you decide this area is too painful for you to remain living here, if needed I’ll reach out to another chapter to see if you can relocate there.”

“Why? Why are you doing all of this?” My insecurity has me asking this question.

“Because Fate apparently has a sense of humor when it comes to me.” He shakes his head as if he too is having a hard time understanding the why of it.

I’m about to say something else in rebuttal when a yawn escapes. Seeing that I’m getting tired again, he takes my empty plate from my hand, sets it on the table, then holds his hand out for me to take. Feeling my fingers laced in his, warmth shoots through me. He leads me over to the bed then tucks me in once again. Leaning down, his lips brush across my forehead, the whiskers from his beard causing me to giggle which turns his eyes darker.

“Got some club business to take care of, Rayleigh. Get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you for the pizza,” I drowsily murmur, sleep already trying to claim me.

“Anything for you, Sprite.”