Chapter Sixteen Annabel
When I woke up in the morning and surveyed my strange surroundings, I bolted straight up in bed and screamed. The door flew open and a bleary looking prospect, who I had met last night, tumbled in. At the sight of him, I drew the covers tighter around me.
The guy held up his hands. “I ain’t here to hurt you or anything. Prez put me on post in case you woke up.”
“Where is Rev?”
“He’s having breakfast.”
I nodded. “Thanks for letting me know.” When I sat up straighter in bed, I winced at the pain that shot through my head.
“Regretting the Jack from last night, huh?” he asked with a smile.
It was then I remembered he had been the bartender. “Jumping Joe?” I questioned.
He laughed. “Jolting Joe. Got my soon to be road name from Joe Dimaggio.”
“You were a baseball player, huh?”
His jovial expression turned sheepish. “Uh, it’s more for the way I can swing a bat and knock someone out.”
I didn’t know if I should be amused or horrified. “Well, thanks for letting me know where Rev is.”
“No problem.”
Once Joe closed the door, I threw back the covers.
Gazing down at myself, I realized I didn’t have any reason to be modest since I was still in my clothes from last night.
When I rose out of the bed, my entire body ached.
It had been so long since I had had anything alcoholic to drink.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what possessed me to partake in so much last night.
Then it hit me. Hearing Deacon and Alexandra’s announcement about their baby boy had sent me spinning.
Like an idiot, I thought alcohol would fix things—like some sort of liquid bandage for my broken soul.
But in the sober light of day, I still had to face the fact that it would take nothing short of a miracle for me to become a mother.
Rubbing my shirt above my bruised heart, I gazed around the room.
Memories from Rev bringing me in last night came flooding back to me.
We had danced. And then I had kissed him.
Just when I wanted to feel extreme remorse for what I had done, I remembered he had kissed me back.
He was a good kisser too from what I remembered.
But then I couldn’t ignore the fact he had pushed me away before things had gone too far. Of course, it appeared to be under the pretense of him having to take care of business. I wondered if he had ever returned until I peered down at the bed and saw the indentation of his body.
As I climbed out of bed, I wondered what was going through his mind this morning.
He was noble to fault, so I imagined he would be feeling the remorse that I probably should be.
Although only a month had passed since my the Raiders had freed me from my captivity, I was ready to move on.
My therapist encouraged me to try and move forward in all aspects of my life from school to my ability to trust men.
During our sessions, the mantra that not all men were evil and were going to hurt me was something we frequently repeated.
It was hard to overcome the urge to feel threatened in a strange man’s presence.
While we had yet to work through how a future love life might work for me, I couldn’t help being confused as to why my love life seemed to still need blocking with caution tape.
At the end of the day, Mendoza would haunt me until I was able to give myself emotionally and physically to another man.
Part of me wondered if the longer I waited, the longer I allowed emotional scar tissue to build up.
Many victims of trafficking and rape were in relationships or married, so it wasn’t like they put on a habit and went to their local nunnery.
They had to work through the emotional landmines to reconnect physically with their partners.
I felt I had spent the last month getting to know Rev on such a deep level that I was ready to risk a relationship that went further than friendship. I just didn’t know how to convince him that his steadfast image of me as a cracked china doll wasn’t who I was.
After running a brush through my hair and improvising without a toothbrush, I decided to go in search of Rev and some strong coffee.
When I got to the end of the long hallway, I faltered at the sight of all the strangers milling around the front room.
Closing my eyes, I inwardly chanted, You can do this.
These people are Rev’s family. They won’t hurt you.
My eyes flew open at the sound of a familiar voice. “Morning Uptown Girl,” Bishop said with a wave. His warm grin instantly put me at ease.
“Morning, Bishop.”
“You hungry?” he asked, as he came to meet me.
“A little. More than anything, I’d love some coffee.”
“Come on. I’ll take you to Rev.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Bishop.”
Whenever I met the eye of one of the Raiders or their old ladies, which was still a hard term for me to get used to, I received a nod of the head or a friendly smile. I didn’t know if they were being kind because of what I had gone through or because I was with Rev, so to speak.
When he caught sight of me, a range of emotions flashed across Rev’s face. After settling on the one that seemed he was glad to see me, he came forward and gave me a hug. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I replied, as I squeezed him tight. His usual manly smell was mixed with coffee and bacon, which made me feel both comfort and longing.
When I pulled away, he appeared apologetic. “Sorry I left you this morning, but you were sleeping so peacefully I hated to wake you up.”
“It’s okay.” With a sheepish grin, I added, “I definitely needed to sleep off the alcohol.”
He laughed before turning to pour me a cup of steaming coffee. “Have some of this while I fix you a plate.”
Leaning back against the counter, I blew tiny rivulets in the black liquid to cool it off.
At the same time, I kept an eye on Rev as he went about getting my food.
I thought when he was around a large group of his brothers, he might shy away from openly taking care of me.
Like somehow it would be seen as him being pussy whipped.
But the one thing I most loved about Rev was how he never put people’s opinions of himself above being his kind, caring self. It was truly endearing.
When he came back with a plate heaping with portions of bacon, eggs, and hash browns, my eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“You need some good greasy food after all that alcohol.”
Glancing down at the plate, I said, “But I couldn’t eat all of this even if I didn’t have a weak stomach from drinking.”
Rev winked. “Just eat what you can.”
“Okay.”
After placing a hand on my back, he led me out into the main room. We sat down at a table with Deacon, Alexandra, and Bishop. “What did you think of last night?” Alexandra asked.
“It was interesting.”
Bishop snorted. “Interesting how?”
I chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bacon as I tried to put into words what I had experienced.
Misjudging my silence, Deacon said, “It’s okay if you didn’t like it, Annabel. This life ain’t for everyone.”
Shaking my head, I replied, “No, no, it isn’t like that. I enjoyed watching the patching ceremony and seeing the way everyone acted like family.” I looked pointedly at Deacon. “It showed me how someone would want to be a part of this life.”
My response seemed to please the Malloy brothers. Deacon even gave Rev a knowing look, which Rev responded to by ducking his head.
After finishing what I could of my meal, I noticed an old upright piano across from us. I rose out of my chair and went over to it. “Does anyone ever play this?” My fingers were already tinkling lightly over the keys.
“Not since Jim Beam died,” Rev replied, as he joined my side.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
Rev laughed. “Jim Beam was the oldest member of the club. He literally lived and died with a bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He could even ride one handed and drink.”
“I guess that’s how he got his road name, huh?”
“Yes. It is.” He nudged me closer to the bench. “Why don’t you play something?”
I widened my eyes as I shook my head wildly back and forth. “Oh no, I’m out of practice.”
“I’m sure you’re just being modest.”
“Ah, hell, Rev, don’t encourage her,” Bishop said behind us. When I turned around, he winked. “She’ll just end up torturing us with some of that fruity classical shit.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I countered, “Is that all you think I can play?”
“Like you know any hard rock or blues. That’s what Jim Beam always played. You’d swear sometimes you were listening to Jerry Lee Lewis.”
“Impressive. Did he also play the piano while holding a whiskey bottle?”
Bishop grinned. “Hell yeah.”
“Well, I’m afraid ol’ Jim Beam beats me on that one. But…” I pushed the piano bench aside and sat down. “Maybe I can find something that would impress even Bishop’s musical taste.”
“Bring it on,” Bishop challenged.
I hadn’t lied when I told Rev I was out of practice. It had been months since I had touched a piano. In fact, it was even before my captivity with Mendoza. But I was never one to shy away from a challenge.
My hands momentarily hovered over the keys as I closed my eyes and mentally went over the opening of the song.
Within seconds, it all came flooding back to me.
My fingers hit the ivories and I began pounding out the opening of Great Balls of Fire.
It was actually a song I had wanted to learn back in the day, especially since my parents hated me to do anything that wasn’t classical or tasteful.
Regardless of the fact he was a musical genius, it would be hard to argue that Jerry Lee himself was very tasteful.
As soon as the guys recognized what I was playing, a roar went up among them. I was treated to cat calls and whistles, which fueled me to play even harder. A pleasant warmth ran through me as I was mentally able to slide another piece into the puzzle that made up my former self.