Halley
Cowboy convinced me to let Jessy Bell watch the baby and go get ready for a night on the town with Harlot, Riot and Emery.
I wasn’t too sure. I hadn’t left the baby alone since he was born.
Well except with Cowboy for an hour. I may’ve not named him, but it didn’t mean I didn’t love him.
Nevertheless, this night would be one of mine and Cowboy’s firsts.
We’d had our first kiss. Both of us have had our first kisses.
We’d held hands a bunch of ways. Now, Cowboy and I would have our first date and then he planned to stake a claim on me which I could only guess meant some wild sex.
My gut twisted just thinking of it. I’d never wanted to be claimed before, but now Cowboy’s cock was all I could think of.
Before I could leave, my brother showed up with presents, one for me and one for the baby. Pleased he was being kinder, I opened up a cell phone. He wasn’t being kinder, just possessive in another way. For the baby, he had sort of a matching present, a baby monitor.
“I’ll hook it up now,” he said.
As much as I wanted to be mad at him for being over protective, knowing Jessy Bell would have the monitor’s help if she stepped away from the baby gave me some peace.
“Have you thought of a name for your baby?”
“Not yet. I don’t even remember my real dad’s name.”
“Jon, Jon Cole was his name. I loved the man. If it were me, I’d name the baby after him… Our mama prayed every night that I’d protect you when she was gone.”
“Do you think I should stay home?”
“Nah, you go on with Cowboy and have a good time.”
I hugged him, and let him know, “You know without you no one would’ve cared about me rotting down there in the rabbit hole.”
“The rabbit hole?” He was looking at me like I was nuts again.
“That basement… Without you, Cowboy would’ve never found me and the baby.”
I think he felt better since his Emery would be with me until I met up with Cowboy tonight.
I’d not been out to get a pedicure ever, so when I saw all the Asian ladies’ unhappy faces, all I could think about was being locked in that basement.
I jumped when one of them sat at my feet.
She smiled at me, but I saw right through it.
I’d smiled like that before. I started to have second thoughts about getting my toes painted.
However, Emery stepped in and insisted. So, I let her.
I even got a manicure then my legs exfoliated and massaged.
Because, I wanted to look and feel perfect for Cowboy tonight.
Emery, bless her. She even took me shopping and bought me a mess of clothes.
I cried, then felt stupid for it. I’d had nothing of my own for so long.
It was really fucked up that a weeks’ worth of outfits would make me tear up like this.
Emery and the others had been treating me like I would break anyhow, even mentioned me going to therapy, and now I had.
I was pitiful. Just like they all thought.
By the time we were getting our hair done, I’d plum lost it.
I was lost in a horrible memory from the rabbit hole, Serpentine dared me to cut my outrageously long hair.
LuAnn had left a butter knife with me, and instead of killing myself, I tried to saw my hair clean off.
I thought if I looked ugly enough, maybe the men would let me be.
But not even my hair had been my own.
“Cut it all off, shave it,” I told the beautician.
Emery stepped in, touching my long dark, wavy hair. “But your hair is so pretty.”
“I don’t want it. It’s been through too much. Let it go.”
She sucked in a breath. “Maybe just shorter?” She told the hairstylist.
“Yes, short, really short.” I made my fingers into scissors. “Cut. Cut. Cut.”
Soon, I touched my hair lightly with my fingertips. Looking in the mirror, I saw my hair was short but cute. Then in the same mirror, I saw Serpentine. He called me a dike, or was it Snakebite, their faces ran together.
“Snakebite said he’d kill me if I cut my hair… This will show ‘em.”
“No one’s going to hurt you, here,” Emery promised me.
After that, I totally zoned out.
The girls rushed me out of the salon. Soon, I laughed, coming out of it. A mist completely lifted. I forgot what I was laughing about.
When they said we’d get our makeup done, I had no idea they meant we’d have our faces painted like candy skulls. I wasn’t sure Cowboy wanted to claim a candy skeleton later.
“The whole club does it for the parade,” Riot explained, as I watched the artist line her big eyes and stencil swirls and flowers around her face.
The make-up artist explained further, “The paint crosses over much like the people we are celebrating. It penetrates the wall between people, between cultures, between all that separates us.”
Her fancy talk just meant ghosts. She meant fucking ghosts. I laughed like a loon. Here everyone acted like I was crazy but was listening to this lady talk about a flipping wall between this world and the next. When my makeup was finished, I went up behind Emery and yelled, “Boo.”
The streets were filling up, and I heard someone comment that last year there were 150,000 people who attended.
Hell—Crowds made me hella nervous.
While we waited for the men to find us, Emery held onto my hand as if I were a child. Conflicted, I didn’t exactly mind, but I wasn’t a kid anymore.
I heard the roar of motorcycles and one stopped in front of me. Cowboy’s face wasn’t completely painted like mine, but he’d darkened his eyes and nose and looked like a bearded skeleton cowboy. I didn’t know if I liked this look on him.
It sort of freaked me out.
His motorcycle and all the bikes were decorated with wreaths of colorful flowers like the ones in our hair. They were funeral flowers, and although there was an atmosphere of a party, I had a bad feeling.
Riot and Harlot mounted some other men’s bikes, since we’d drove here in Harlot’s SUV. Scar picked up Emery on the back of his bike.
She told Cowboy, “Keep a good eye on her.”
She’d been talking about crazy ol’ me.
He tipped his cowboy hat and winked, saying, “I know.”
“What do you know? I’m not crazy.”
“I know you’re not crazy, Little Lady.”
“I’m not a child either.”
“Oh, I know that, too.”
That made me feel some better, but I filed the fact that some viewed me as childish and crazy away to think about later.
We crawled through the two-mile parade surrounded by a sea of people in costumes.
All shapes sizes and ethnicities dressed like devils and angels.
Skeletons on stilts wore masks bigger than their faces.
Kids, sitting on their parent’s shoulders dressed up, too.
Folks had brought their dogs, as well, who’d they dressed up as little grim reapers and goblins.
A fucking larger than life hog sported a silver cape.
Lanterns swung and candles swayed. A group with their faces painted like mine walked along side of us, playing violins.
Dancers lined the procession, juggling fire to the beat of drums.
It was all creepy as hell.
“I don’t like this,” I tried to tell Cowboy.
“What?” He couldn’t hear me.
The noise overwhelmed me. I screamed it this time.
“It’s okay. We’re gonna ditch them as soon as we can. I’ve made plans remember.”
Boy did I.
Thankfully, Cowboy left the procession to begin our date. When we got away from the crowd, he told me to hold on tight. My arms hooked around him, and he picked up speed. We went for a long ride. I’d forgotten how much I loved riding.
Before long, we headed back toward the big crowd. When Cowboy’s motorcycle rolled to a stop, I asked why we were back. He explained he’d wanted to take me to a bar in town before we headed to the hotel, and all of Tucson was packed tonight.
As we walked into El Chupacabra, I figured out Cowboy wanted to show me off.
It’d been a while, but I’d grown up a biker brat, sort of, so I knew the posturing.
He held me close, his hand on the small of my back as he introduced me around.
He knew about everyone here. Many of the patrons were members of the Asphalt Gods’ MC who I hadn’t met or seen before.
They lived off the compound, Cowboy explained.
He threatened a brother or two when they gave me a compliment, even punched a guy.
“This is fun.”
Everyone had their face painted, so I felt a little more relaxed about my makeup.
“I like your hair,” Cowboy remarked when we settled into a corner by ourselves.
“Thanks.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Cutting my hair had been on pure impulse, and this was a huge change. I already missed it being so very long.
“I’m only twenty years old,” I told him when he ordered our drinks.
“I know. It doesn’t matter here. When you’re with me.”
He had a couple of beers, and I had half of one. We played some darts and pool, things I hadn’t done in forever, and we couldn’t do back at the clubhouse while being watched.
“Just letting loose,” Cowboy called it.
I was having a blast.
After we ate some good chimis, he took me to the back where a man dressed as a grim reaper was giving tattoos. Where all the women I saw tonight had so many, I didn’t even have one.
“I’m not sure what I would want,” I remarked, looking at all the designs.
“It’s not a choice,” Cowboy explained, his voice flat. “I’m branding you.”
“You’re what?”
“You can pick where.”
While I didn’t know what I thought of having his road named tattooed on me, let alone burnt on, Cowboy seemed more than excited. His hand dropped to my waist to pull me close to him. He breathed in my ear, “After we get you a property patch, we’ll head to our final destination.”
I knew Cowboy had booked some fancy hotel where he planned to finally rock my world. That I could handle. The branding had been a surprise. I wasn’t sure I was up for it. “What about you?” Are you going to get my name tattooed on your ass?”
“Is that where you want my brand, on your ass?”