18. Finleigh
Finleigh
M y memories are like discs in a jukebox. They’re there, but you’re never sure which one will play. It’s exhausting, waiting for something new to trigger, and whether it’ll be traumatizing or not.
The guys have been in the doorway talking in hushed tones ever since Izzy arrived, informing us that Chuck, the man behind my assault, had been found. Their excitement was tinged with malicious undertones, so I won’t ask what they have planned for him and his band of idiots.
We still haven’t found my cell phone, so I assume it’s either in the Bay Springs cabin or it’s been ditched with my wallet.
It almost feels like losing my identity for a second time.
Although it is a bit of a relief to discover that I not only have a best friend who is like a sister, but also two biological sisters, as well.
Remembering where they are and why they haven’t been able to identify me is better than what I’ve imagined.
It is heartbreaking, however, that my parents have basically ignored my existence. The relationship has always been strained between the three of us, but I thought that when I started working in the gallery, it would improve. What a lie.
Being here only makes me feel worse, so I head to the kitchen, ignoring the bag I had been packing, and decide to have a hot fudge sundae. The bananas were rotten, so a banana split is out of the question.
Squirting chocolate syrup into a small bowl, I pop it into the microwave for a minute before scooping out some vanilla ice cream into a larger bowl.
When the microwave beeps, I remove the warm syrup and use a spoon to swirl the sweet concoction onto the cold dessert.
After sprinkling some crumbled Oreo’s over the top, I drop onto the sofa and stare at the blank TV screen.
Closing my eyes as I take a bite, I savor the sugar overload on my tongue before swallowing and repeating the process until a hand rests on my shoulder.
“You keep making those sounds, and I’ll give your mouth something else to enjoy.
” Axl winks as my eyes lower to the growing bulge in his crotch.
I’ve noticed they often crack sex jokes to get me out of my head.
Even with the hidden truths in their words, it always works, and I find myself desiring the taste of him.
“Jesus, woman,” he groans, being drawn in by the lust on my face like a beacon.
“I’ll be good,” I whisper as Brute enters the room, Izzy behind him. Our eyes meet, and his lips curl up in a snarl while his eyes project wicked promises for later.
The two of them direct everyone on the items that need to go to the truck until everything coming with me is packed away. I stare around the place I called home for almost a year and wonder briefly if the girl I was then could have imagined our life would come to this.
The time has arrived to collect Flip’s tank, and I scoop him out, placing him in an old container with his favorite rock and some water so that Neo and Olympus can carry the aquarium out without worrying about dropping and shattering it with my slimy friend inside.
Staring at the prospects in the elevator on the way down, it’s a little funny, and I can’t help giggling. They nearly glare at me before Brute shuts them up with an aggressive sneer.
“Badass bikers moving a frog's home. Bet you never saw this in your future,” I tease, burying my face in Brute’s chest as his amusement rumbles through his frame.
They mutter under their breath, but I don’t catch what’s said. The looks on their faces speak volumes, however, and soon everyone is laughing as we reach the lobby floor.
“Finleigh!” A tall blonde woman in a light blue pencil skirt, matching blazer, and black pumps waves as she approaches with a friendly smile on her face. “Are you moving?” Her eyes roam the men cautiously surrounding me. “You’re the only bearable neighbor on our floor.
Meeting her eyes, feelings of familiarity surge through me, and I know I like her; I sense it but can’t seem to place her. “I’m sorry, uhm…” The panic from my attack and all the missing pieces of my life start to threaten my stability.
Brute and Axl must pick up on it because Brute pulls me into his embrace, taking Flip from me and handing him to Viking, who looks like he’d rather run away than be caught dead holding a frog, but he suffers through.
Axl steps in with an easy smile as the woman’s face shows her concern.
“Finleigh is moving. She had an accident and, unfortunately, is having trouble with her memory. If you’d like to give me your name and number, we’ll keep it for when she’s ready to reach out.
” I didn’t think I’d hear either of them sound so diplomatic, but I’m impressed.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, Finleigh.” Her eyes meet mine with sympathy and concern.
“Here’s my card, name and number included.
” She hands it to Axl and walks over to me, gripping my hand and squeezing.
“Call when you’re ready. I don’t want to lose a friendship like ours.
” Tears cloud my vision as I nod, and she slowly walks away.
It’s not until air forces its way past my lips that I realize I’d been holding my breath. Wilting against Brute, exhaustion drags me down.
“Looks like you weren’t as alone as you thought,” he comments, rubbing circles on my back as we walk out of the building.
Hawthorne stands at attention, watching the bikers cautiously before he nods goodbye to me. I wave and get into the truck, closing my eyes and leaning back. Overwhelmed and starving, I can’t wait to return to the clubhouse to have a long nap.
Izzy organized for most of my furniture to be donated to a local women’s shelter, and what’s coming with me is packed in the bed of the truck and the backseat.
Brute stops shortly after we leave, and when I open my eyes, the sight of one of my favorite coffee houses is in front of me.
“Clubhouse with extra turkey and cheddar cheese, honey mustard, no mayo, and tomato on the side, please. With extra crispy fries and ranch dip. One of their peach lemonades, too, please.” My stomach grumbles loudly as I speak, almost embarrassing until I remember I’m eating for two.
“Maybe one of their Boston cream donuts, as well. Or, wait…sour cream…no, blueberry glazed.”
Brute watches me lick my lips as I think about all my favorite treats, then he sends a text to someone. “How about two of each?”
My eyes nearly roll back in pleasure at the suggestion. Rather than the yes I’d like to scream, I offer a controlled nod instead.
Axl and Priest head inside, my eyes stay locked on the door until they return a few minutes later with everything I asked for and probably more because they’re carrying two bags of food, an entire drink tray, and two boxes of donuts.
Viking opens my door and the back door for them as well. “Got some extras.” Axl winks, handing me a bag and a drink, while the rest goes in the backseat. He pulls another bakery bag out of the larger one in my lap and says, “These ones are for the road.”
“You got me two dozen donuts?” I whisper, slightly horrified but mostly thrilled that he’d think about me for later.
“Princess, when are you going to learn? Anything you desire is yours.” Leaning forward, our lips touch ever so gently—sweet, even—before he pulls back and gestures to Brute, then checks that I’m secured in my seat and closes the door.
“Ready to head home?” Brute asks.
Home. A word I haven’t associated with too much, in far too long. Somehow, I’ve managed to find one with the most unlikely of men, and I’ve never been happier.