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“She is yours, Grizz. I swear it.”
He ignores me, passing the car and heading into the town centre. “Where are we going?” I ask, trying to keep up with him.
“You need trainers.”
“I can’t afford?—”
“I know,” he mutters, continuing to speed walk in front.
The sales assistant in the sports shop is kitted out in tight Lycra shorts and a low-cut top that pushes her breast up in a way I can only dream of since having Ivy. She instantly flirts with Grizz, and he does nothing to deter her as they discuss which trainers they have in my size without asking my opinion. Not that I have one. Shopping is low on my list of priorities right now.
Grizz goes off with her, and I take a seat, staring down at the floor, my mind filled with thoughts of Ivy. When he returns, he holds out an open box containing a pair of white trainers. They look expensive, and the sort I’d always avoid. “Try them on,” he orders. The sales assistant stands behind him, watching the exchange with curiosity. When I make no move to take them, he sighs impatiently and kneels before me. He removes a tatty trainer that looks so out of place in this shiny shop and discards it. He gently takes my ankle and slides the trainer onto my foot then proceeds to feel for my big toe, like I’m a child. It’s so sweet, I almost smile, but then I remember he does this sort of shit and it means nothing. He hates me, and he wants to take Ivy from me.
He sets about removing my other trainer and replacing it with the new one. He then puts the tatty trainers in the box and stands. “We’ll take these and the same pair in black.” Then he goes off to pay, leaving me sitting on the chair wondering what the hell his game is.
When he drags me to the nearest clothes store, I stop. “Okay, what’s going on?”
He gives me an irritated look. “You need new clothes.”
“Why?”
“Because . . . because your shit is old.” I’m insulted. I don’t have money to throw away on clothes, sure, but what I wear isn’t exactly falling off me. I always try to look presentable, and most of my time is spent in underwear because of my job. “Don’t you want the social worker to see you’re trying?” he asks. His words have the desired affect, and I trail behind him around the shop but not showing any interest as he grabs things and piles them into his arms.
By the time we get back to the clubhouse, I’m exhausted, but Grizz hasn’t finished with me as he marches me to my room and picks out an outfit of designer jeans and a cream knitted top. I eye the garments. “The social worker is coming here in the next ten minutes. Get changed.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“You heard. Get changed.” He stomps from the room, and I lower onto the bed and stare at the ground. The last twenty-four hours have been a lot to process, and the thought of now speaking to this woman who’s messed my life up makes me sick to my stomach.
Fourteen
GRIZZ
Lexi convinced me that having Luna in the meeting today would show solidarity, but I’m not so sure as I shake hands with Becki. She’s smiling in an unsure way that tells me she’s nervous about being here. I offer her a drink and try to put her at ease, but I’m sure being in a biker club was not on her bucket list.
Luna is already seated in the office and she looks sick with nerves, but at least she looks a little less of a mess. She offers a shaky hand to Becki, who takes it and lowers into the seat beside her. “How are you?” she asks.
“Not great,” Luna mutters. “How’s Ivy?” Her eyes light up whenever she says her daughter’s name, which angers me more. She has no right to act as though she loves her when she’s let her down.
“She’s absolutely fine. She went into temporary emergency foster care. The family is very experienced with babies, so she’s in good hands. Are you living here?” Becki asks, pulling out a notepad. Thinking of Ivy with strangers makes my mood worse.
Luna looks at me for instruction. “No,” I reply for her. “She’s staying here until she’s back on her feet.”
“Okay. And what does that look like, Luna?” she asks.
Again, Luna looks unsure, so I clear my throat. “A good job. Paying bills. Providing for Ivy.”
Becki smiles at me. “If you could let Luna answer?”
Luna knots her fingers together nervously. “She’s a selective mute,” I say.
This gets Luna’s attention and she frowns before sitting up straighter. “I want to get a job,” she begins. “I tried, but it’s hard when you’ve not had much experience anywhere.”
“That’s a good start,” Becki says with a smile, making a note in her pad. “I can get you some support for that.”
“I’ll get her a job,” I cut in before Luna can respond. She closes her mouth and folds her arms over her chest in a way that reminds me of a sulky teenager.
Becki closes her notepad. “Can you show me where Ivy will be sleeping?”
