Chapter 3 Storm #2
“It’s called Timber-Ghost. And, well, like you, I have a past I’m trying to outrun.
My twin sister, Dani, and I escaped from our parents’ commune back in South Dakota.
Now, before you start thinking about Woodstock and all it represented, like a celebration of peace, music, and unity amidst the social and political unrest in our country.
You know the free love idea, which anyone who attended either participated willingly or didn’t, it was their choice.
NOPE, our life was nothing like that. Where we lived, it was not anything remotely about unity, peace, or free love.
It was a society where men ruled and women did what they were told, or else you were punished.
No one was safe from the elders, so when we had the opportunity to escape, Dani and I ran like the hounds of hell were chasing our asses.
In fact, sometimes I feel they are still stalking us, especially when it feels like I’m being watched.
Anyway, we begged our mother to come with, but she was way too brainwashed by our father.
It wasn’t until we both were approached to become prospects for the Devil’s Handmaidens Motorcycle Club that I started to feel somewhat safe and human again.
Tink, Glory, and Shadow shared what they were about and since I believe in what they are doing, as does Dani, we joined.
Once we started to prospect, Tink and Glory made it mandatory that we seek help to deal with our past. Since then, both of us have been in therapy to try and find some closure and the peace of mind to move on with our lives and try to truly enjoy each day without looking over our shoulders constantly. ”
He has been watching me very closely as he finished his soup.
When I stop talking, he looks either way, then cautiously leans in and asks me quietly about the purpose of our club.
I nod because not everyone, though most, know what we do outside of those in Timber-Ghost. Just about everyone here now knows and they support our club fully.
It took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to get here, but we never gave up trying to get our town to stand behind us.
They finally started to when they mainly needed the club’s help, which of course we jumped right in to do, and over time we’ve saved numerous members of this community from harm’s way. Building trust is what Tink calls it.
“To begin with, we are a full one-percent motorcycle club, if you know what that means. We follow our rules and stay true to them. On top of that we work with agencies to rescue victims of human trafficking, domestic violence, and any other type of abuse experienced generally by women and children. We don’t shy away from men being abused, but that’s rare, though it seems to be happening more each day. ”
His face gets hard while those inky-black eyes stare off, no emotion whatsoever in them.
He doesn’t say a word, and I’m not sure if I should continue.
It’s then something occurs to me and I sit back shell-shocked.
Since Dani and I’ve gotten to Timber-Ghost and hooked our stars to the Devil’s Handmaidens, outside of my club sisters—and not even many of them—have I shared and talked about much of anything from our past with anyone.
Yeah, I was social to a point, well more than Shadow, but that isn’t saying much.
Why all of a sudden do I feel the undeniable pull to this stranger?
I know nothing about this man. Not sure how this is going to go, but shit, I really want to try to give it my all.
I’ve put myself out there enough already and even told him about our club, so it’s only fair he does the same thing.
“Benji, you now know some stuff about me, it’s your turn. Don’t have to go deep, just like maybe why you’re here, where you’re from, and what you’ve been up to. What’s your plan?”
I watch as he swivels his head to me, standing straight up, hands on his hips, and I almost push my chair back.
Not sure how, but his eyes are almost glowing and his entire body has shifted like he’s expanding it to protect himself from an unknown enemy.
He doesn’t reach out to me or anything, but his eyes take in my trembling and I can see him trying to pull it together.
Finally, he runs his hands through his light-blond hair, removing the band holding in the man bun at the back of his head.
I watch in awe when he rubs his fingers down his scalp to his neck, while pushing through the long hair he just released.
I get it, when I wear my hair in a ponytail for too long it starts to give me a headache.
Seeing the pain in his face and watching that blond hair hanging down his shoulders, I have the impulse to run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.
Oh hell to the no, got to get that thought right out of my head.
Once he’s rubbed his fingers in his scalp, he slowly sits back down just as our meal arrives.
It’s one of my favorites of Cook’s; her fried chicken, which, just the smell of it makes my stomach rumble.
Feeling eyes on me, I look up to see his eyes watching me yet again.
When he hears my gut, he actually starts to slowly grin then stops, not sure why. Then I get it when he starts talking.
“Like I told you before, my name is Benjamin Dawson. Born and raised in Crete, Nebraska. When I graduated, my old man informed me he had no extra money for me to go to college so his intent was for me to become a farmer like him. Not that I didn’t like doing that work, just not with or for him.
Even as I grew up, when he drank he would lose it and either beat on Mom, me, or my siblings.
After a while, when I was a grown man/child, I got sick of it.
One night when he went to hit me, I raised my hand and knocked his drunk ass out.
Mom freaked out and while crying told me to get gone before he woke up.
As I was walking down our driveway, trying to figure a way to get to town, two of my siblings followed.
I was good with that because it meant our dad wouldn’t be able to hurt any of us ever again.
We got a ride in from a neighbor and I walked right to the recruitment office next to the hardware store.
It was closed ’cause of the time, but I put my canvas bag of everything I owned down and leaned against it.
When my sister and brother came by asking me what I was doing, I explained I was joining the military to get away and maybe find some purpose or direction.
So, the next day, all three of us joined, though different branches.
I went into the Army and later was approached to try out for Delta Force, which I did.
Made my way to being a part of a squadron.
We worked hard and everyone in our squadron had each other’s back, or so the guys and I thought. ”
He stops talking and looks away. Then he glances down, picks up a chicken leg, and starts to eat it.
I get it, he’s done for now. I really didn’t expect that much from him.
Using my fork I attack the thigh, pulling the meat off, and shoving it in my mouth.
We continue to eat our meal with not a lot of conversation, except agreeing with each other how good Cook’s food is.
Feeling eyes on me when he gets up to use the bathroom again, I turn to see Shadow, who has a direct view of our table.
When she sees me looking her way, she points to her eyes then at me.
Well, fuck me, I’m being watched by our club enforcer.
I shrug my shoulders then turn around. Now I need to find out what this man plans to do for the night.
It’s way too damn cold out to sleep in the woods.
Waiting on him, I try to come up with a solution, though I’m realizing this guy is not a man who lets others make decisions for him.
This should be interesting is my thought when I see him digging into the fried chicken.
This reminds me that I am hungry, so I grab a piece of said chicken and take a huge bite.
The flavor explodes on my tongue as I look over the table to see Benji watching me.
If only I could read his thoughts, I think to myself as I stare into his eyes.