I wasn’t.
If he messes with her or tries to hurt her in any way, I will go after him. I will protect Ann and question later why I feel so possessive of her.
“So, what made you decide to join a motorcycle club?” Ann asked me, breaking into my thoughts.
How to answer this question. “My daddy was an abusive asshole who liked to beat on his wife and kids. When I got old enough to fight back, he kicked me out because I would beat his ass every time he raised a hand to my mom and sisters. That’s when I found Patch, the President of our Mother Charter, at a bar one evening. I got drunk and got in a fight outside behind the bar, a fight where I saw nothing but black, almost killed the man, Patch for whatever reason got me out of there, the next morning he talked to me about the club, I started hanging around; finally Patch suggested I see Jax, Shadow’s old man about prospecting his club since Patch wasn’t taking any new prospects and here I am today, took me two years to make a patch member,” I finished surprised I told Ann my story. Not many people knew.
“That’s awful about your father. Is he still there with your mother?” Ann asked, concern in her voice.
“No, he was killed by a train a few years back. I’m not gonna lie; I wanted to kill him, but my momma, in her warped love for him, begged me not to, since by then he was only beating on her, I used to resent her for it, but Stonewall made me understand sometimes an abused woman becomes so beaten down from so many years of abuse she thinks she deserves it. My momma is much happier now, and I check in when I can and send her money to help out.”
“Why do men feel the need to hurt the women in their life? My father does not physically abuse my mother, but he mentally abuses her with his callous treatment of her. I, too, used to resent my mother for letting herself be walked all over by my father. He lied, cheated, and forgot about her as soon as he walked out the door,” Ann said so quietly I had to listen closely to hear.
“That’s surprising. I figured you had one of those fairy tale childhoods I saw on TV growing up.”
Ann gave a sarcastic laugh, her mouth twisting up. “Image is everything, and my father made sure everyone thought we were that family, but behind closed doors, my father was distant and domineering when it came to my mother and me. We had an image to maintain; no, my father gave me everything a girl could want, everything but himself.”
Wow, I always thought Ann was a bitch because she was spoiled. But I guess I was wrong. “Is that why you went into the business and not art?”
“Yep, my father said art was for the lower class. It’s not that I hate my job. I don’t. I love working with numbers; math to me is fascinating, and I love working the markets, but I don’t want to take over the business. It’s just not something I’m interested in doing,” Ann explained, twisting her hair, which I was beginning to notice is a nervous habit.
“Have you tried standing up to your dad?”
“Many times and now, I depend on the income I get from working. I make damn good commissions that allow me independence, and I don’t see how I can give that up.”
Ann’s phone went off, her phone lighting up with an incoming call. I saw the screen said ‘Bestie’ must be Mary. As Ann answered, I signaled I would be outside, I needed to call Kickstand and make sure he got my message.
And I needed some air. I had never talked to a woman like I was doing with Ann. And it was messing with my head; why was I so comfortable doing it? Shit, it is what it is, taking my phone out of my pocket to call Kickstand.
ANN
HANGING UPwith my call from Mary, she is worried about me and suggested I come to stay at the clubhouse. I don’t want to have to do that. I simply wouldn’t be comfortable. And besides, Black is staying with me to keep watch, so I felt safe.
Listening to Black talk about his childhood was hard. To be abused by your own parent was awful, and I get the feeling he is carrying scars from it. But still, Black always had that smile and goof off attitude like he hadn’t a care in the world. I enjoyed being with him and was amazed at how easy it was for me to open up to him.
Mary didn’t even know about some of the things I said to Black.
I hope I wasn’t making a mistake letting him inside of my life. I liked Black a lot, and the more time I spent with him, the more I fell for him. It wasn’t just sex, which was mind-blowing, hotter than I could have imagined.
It was more, way more.
Since there wasn’t any pizza left, clean-up was easy. I rinsed the plates putting them in the dishwasher, waiting for Black to finish his phone call and come back inside. I was trying not to think of the fact that right now, someone was out there watching me. I kept wracking my mind as to who it could be. I don’t go out and party nearly like I used to. Having responsibilities cured that fast. I hadn’t even hooked up with anyone before Black in a year, so I had no idea why suddenly someone would target me.
I walked over to my recent painting; I wasn’t quite finished. It was a homeless man who was begging on the street. I sat across the street sketching him. His loneliness and desperation were all over his face and went even more profound when you looked into his eyes. When I was done, I walked over to him, slipping him a hundred, and hope replaced the look in his eyes for a brief moment. I walked back to my car, sketched the look of hope on another page, and was now trying to merge the two into his face on my canvas.
“You really are good, you know,” Black said behind me, causing me to jump. I hadn’t heard him walk up.
“Thank you, and I’m hoping this one that I’m working on now will be the one that I enter into the art contest during the fair this year.”
“Have you entered before?”
“Yes, I’ve come in second the last two years. I want that first-place ribbon. But, not that second is bad; both my painting sold after the contest at the auction they hold,” I said, pride in my voice. There had been hundreds of submissions, so I was proud of my work.
“This year will be your year. I can feel it,” Black said, putting his arms around me and kissing my neck. “Now that your belly is full, I am ready for dessert.”
Turning in his arms. “What if I’m too full for dessert?” I teased.
Without warning, Black picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder, taking me into the bedroom, where he smacked me hard across the ass and dumped me on the bed. “Get naked little general. I’m ready to eat up,” he said, taking his clothes off.