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6
Porsche was glad the waiting room outside Doc’s office was empty after her appointment. The woman was vicious in her approach at times and Porsche needed a few minutes to regroup in a chair. There hadn’t been tears because those ran dry years ago, but lifting the rock she had in place to cover the years of abuse she’d rather forget had caused a scurry of trauma laden insects. The kind that ran along your skin creating a cascading mix of over sensitive nerves and raised flesh. Sitting silently for a moment she did her best to block out the sounds as her mind raced and replayed moments in her life.
The onslaught of emotions she usually deflected and never allowed herself to experience were suffocating as she tried to regroup. The witch in theNeverending Storyhowled in her ear yelling ‘it has to hurt if it’s to heal’. Fucking doctors act as if rebreaking a leg was the best course of action instead of letting the person walk with a limp. Maybe she wanted a fucking limp? Had Doc considered that? Who cares if she left Doc’s office with a refill of her mood stabilizers and something for sleep? Processing hurt. For years she’d been running even if everyone thought she was standing still. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her head ached, and it wasn’t prescription drugs she craved.
That road she’d travelled before. Falling into a bottle or worse to make the hurt go away. Her mind spun and she reached for any distraction to capture her thoughts long enough to settle. Projects, that is what she needed.
“Oh, you’re still here,” Doc said as she came out of her office, clad in the leather coat claimed women wore. “Everything okay Porsche?”
“Of course,” she lied and held up her phone. “I was making sure no one needed me to snag anything from the Roadside or the store before I headed out to the ranch. I’m helping with supper and you know how it is, one thing is always missing when you want to cook.”
“I know today was hard, but it was necessary,” Doc said as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. “It’s a good first step.”
First step! First step! Porsche felt as if she’d run a marathon. Hadn’t she been seeing Doc for over a year now and this was a first step! Biting on her inner cheek she struggled to find the balance in her bipolar brain. Bi was supposed to mean two, not fifty and yet the electricity coursing through her made it nearly impossible to settle on even one thought.
“Right.” She nodded wishing she could scream and toss things instead she settled in on the standard smile and nod one does when trying to move on from a situation.
“Well, since we’re past the clinical part of the day,” Doc began. “Chief told me about your plan, and Red, and a few other people. Seems you’ve ramped up your efforts the last few days.”
“You know me,” she said finally feeling strong enough to stand. “Projects are my baseline.”
“I like the idea, but don’t let Chief try to play manager,” Doc insisted. “I expect his ass to have a hose or an ax in full fire gear taking it off. This is his dream, make him work for it. Don’t take it all on yourself.”
“It’s kinda my thing,” she countered.
“Yes, but,” Doc said. “This is a male revue, which means other people have to be involved. Form a committee, delegate. You’re not the one on stage, they are.”
“Right,” Porsche dug her keys out of her purse. “I’ll do my best.”
Dry swallowing the bitter pill she was days overdue taking she snagged a granola bar she had tossed on her passenger seat so her belly wouldn’t be upset. She was supposed to take it before bed, but the edginess built up inside her from withdrawal made her risk it. It’s not like it put her to sleep if it did, she wouldn’t need the Ambien for later. After parking she pulled open the door and noticed the large room that was filling up fast with the family that was this club. One forged in blood which tended to be a greater bond than coming from it.
While it was normal for the single club members, Hoez and prospects to hang out here instead of their homes due to homemade food and a pretty good drink selection, today was different. Icy rain was falling which meant those on the construction crew were tapping out early. There was no breaking out the bikes for a good spring ride so inside activities were on deck.
Luckily Porsche was a little early so she decided to jaw it up with Ax who was bartending at the moment.
“Hey Ax, can I have a Coke?” Sitting down at the bar on a stool she set her stuff on the bar next to her.
“No beer, what’s up with that?”
“I got to help with supper. Need a clear head.” Porsche lied because she needed a few days of her medication to balance her before she even attempted to add outside suppressors.
Cracking the can open for her he set the drink on the bar then rested his hands on the counter in front of him. He’d opted for his cut, minus the jacket today. A bold move considering the weather, but the vest still declared his allegiance to the club. Plus the t-shirt he wore underneath was tight and clung nicely to his upper arms. Recruitment on her mind she decided to steamroll the man into submission.
“So, have you chosen your song yet?” she asked as if he had actually committed to being part of the review.
“Song for what?” he asked.
“Your dance, you are dancing right? I’ve got bills earmarked for you G-string Ax,” she flirted, reaching for a longer straw and placing it in the can of soda. “It’s for a good cause.”
“I heard a rumor you were trying to get us all to take off our clothes,” Ax said leaning down and coming dangerously close to her face. “You know all you have to do is ask and I’ll take my happy ass to your room right now.”
“You know shirking duties will keep you at prospect status,” she countered. “Besides, I like a little tease.”
“I think I’ve proven more than once I know what you like Porsche,” he said, his voice becoming husky and she began to realize she’d bitten off a bit more than she should have. “By the way, I’m loving the blonde hair, something tells me it would lay very nicely on my lap.”
“Are you going to dance or not? I’m making a list, checking it twice,” she purred. “Ax, are you going to be naughty or nice?”
“Fuck it, put me down forAnywhereby 112,” he said. “But are you going to let me practice on you?”
