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Chapter Twelve
Music blasted loudly in my living room as I sat in the middle of the floor, papers spread out so far around me that I wasn’t quite sure how I would even escape the mess when I finally needed to get up and move. My pencil scribbled across the pad I held propped against my knee, sharp lines forming skirts and tops, beautiful designs that I couldn’t wait to find fabric for so they could come to life.
This was my escape, it had been that way for a long time. It was a way to focus, to keep my mind off those things that haunted me, the whispers in my ear that drove me to the edge. It kept me busy when all I wanted to do was lose my mind and sink back into that hole that I’d climbed out of, and reminded me that I had a purpose, that I could do some kind of good, and give people something they might not have had before.
I’d grown up in a rich family, one where you never wore anything that didn’t come with a label or a well-known designer’s name on it. Money was no expense, you had to look and act like you’d just stepped off the runway at all times, even if you were just going up the road to buy milk. I’d grown up thinking that was normal, that people who dressed to look anything less than perfect were beneath me.
But as I grew up, I realized that it was all false, that the world I lived in was so fake.
A part of me had always felt like I was different to the girls I went to school with. Freedom and excitement seemed just out of reach when you had parents who made you feel like you couldn’t even sneeze without worrying whether people would look sideways at you.
I attended a private girls school, where the focus was less on education and more on grooming us to be perfect wives and members of society. We learned how to cross our legs, how to cook, how to greet guests and host parties for hundreds of people.
I guess it wasn’t all a waste though.
It was the lessons on style and beauty where I found my love for designing and creating. My mother thought she’d hit the jackpot the day I came home and told her that I desperately needed to go to the mall and go shopping. I still remember the look on her face as her eyes lit up with joy and she practically jumped out of her chair, grabbing her purse on the way to the car. She craved normality, she wanted a picture perfect family that could rival that of royalty, and I was dragging them down.
Up until that point, I’d already become so frustrated with playing to their rules that I’d begun to rebel and refuse to take part in my father’s company balls or dinners and started hanging out with a group of older kids in town who attended the public school. They weren’t horrible kids, most of them had ambitions and dreams for their future. They wanted to go to college, earn degrees, and work hard for their success. But they also knew how to have fun, how to make the most of their young lives, and live them to the point of no regrets.
Yet, I was still spending most of my school day learning how to put a fucking piece of steak in my mouth and chew ‘like I had a secret.’ Just thinking about it made me so angry.
My older sister Eva though, she was the perfect daughter, the role model student. And by the time she graduated from high school, she already had a ring on her finger and was making plans to be married. Her husband was the son of one of my father’s business partners. A rich asshole who, as my sister told me while she was drunk at her bachelorette party, had a tiny cock.
Yet, she never even thought twice about marrying him.
Desperate to be the trophy wife in the image of which she’d been created.
I hadn’t spoken to her in over eight years.
Much like my parents, she’d disowned me when I hit that stage in my life where people began to notice that I was… different. My parents thought it was just a phase, trying to play it off as some kind of defiance disorder that they could cure with a few pills and some strict rules. But that just pushed me further into the darkness. It isolated me, making me feel like a freak or a weirdo.
Shame followed me around, and the way people were looking at me sideways like I had some kind of disease, it made me sick.
I guess that was still one of my biggest fears. Knowing if people found out the truth about the darkness I harbored inside me, that they would see me as less capable, that they would strip me of the dignity that I’d fought so hard over the past six years to gain back in my life.
I wasn’t that person anymore.
I caught glimpses of her occasionally. After the voice message and my breakdown, I’d tried my best to throw things in the opposite direction. I was trying to keep things under control, but I couldn’t push back that feeling in my gut that said something was coming.
Wrench was my saving grace.
His touch, his presence, it all soothed the demons that were trying to break free. Wrench wasn’t like a lot of other guys, not even like other club members. He didn’t demand my attention constantly, he didn’t always need to touch me or kiss me like we were horny teenagers. He let me have my space when I needed it, he let me do what I needed to do, but he encouraged me to pursue my passions. He was content with spending time with us, not just me but Harlyn too. He made sure she was a priority in his life, even if it meant hanging out with her when I wasn’t around. I felt as though I could breathe again.
The only problem? He wanted to come clean with Optimus and the club, to let them know what we were feeling for each other was real. It was more real than anything I’d ever felt before. But I was scared, and I knew he was growing frustrated.
What if he lost his patch?
What if because of me, everything he cared about was torn away from him?
He kept telling me that Optimus would understand. That he would see it. If not straight away, then eventually, but I couldn’t help thinking of the risks.
What if he blamed me?
What if he was given an ultimatum and decided to walk away?
I’d pushed my secret stash away, feeling more comfort from Wrench than they had ever given me. He could protect me, the warmth he created inside my body was one I’d never felt from anything other than… well... pills. I was on a high, one that felt like I could never come down from, one that I never wanted to lose.
“Holy shit, you’ve been robbed.”
