Protective (Diamondback MC Second Generation 4)

GEORGIANA

“Doe, we need to talk.”We’ve been cleaning up all day. Well, before that, the first thing I did after I wrapped my arms around Silas’ waist, hugging him for dear life, worried that I was going to lose him after only just getting him was throwing away my incense. Nothing is worth the shitstorm we went through today.

“Uh, just so you’re aware, when a man says those words to a woman, it usually means he’s breaking up with her.” I stand in the middle of my room, hands on my hips. The shower is calling my name, and I was heading towards that area until Silas threw out those words. This may be my first real relationship besides those stupid middle school type boyfriend-girlfriend trysts, but I know those words from watching many television shows and how they end.

“Nothin’ bad. We’ve got this. Nothin’ is going to turn me away from you or vice versa. I wanna know about that night and how things went in your foster parents’ house. No one has said dick to me, and it’s eating at me. Worryin’ that I’ve made it a thousand times worse in my head than it really is. Being left in the dark ain’t good for me, especially not right now. Even if it was my fault that I turned my back on you when I got out.” Silas is sitting on the bed, back to the headboard. He lost his shirt a while ago, along with his socks and boots. His ankles are crossed. You would think he’s relaxed with how he’s lounging, but there’s a firmness around his mouth, the way his eyes are tracking me with every movement I make, edging closer to him.

“Silas, I’m okay. Sure, the road to get here wasn’t easy, but I promise I’m okay. I’m assuming you know what landed me in that foster home.” As soon as I’m in his reach, I’m picked up and placed on his lap sideways.

“I know about that. Shit situation. Hate it like hell for you, Gigi.” I burrow into his body. My lips meet the underside of his jaw, kissing him before pulling off a scab that was healed, praying it doesn’t send me in a tailspin.

“Yeah, it sucked all the way around. It wasn’t always so bad at the Phillips’ house, or at least not that I was aware of, until Jessica, their oldest daughter who wasn’t a foster kid, called her dad for a ride. Karl, that’s the father, he barged into my room demanding I go give her a ride from the bar because she was drunk. Imagine that, sending a sixteen-year-old who just got her license to get your underage drunk daughter because you’re too fucked up to do it yourself.” I look back now and saw the writing on the wall, but the second I was placed in that home, the social worker told me to blend in, bide my time, and then, because my parents put that money in a trust for me, the Phillips couldn’t touch it and I’d be home free.

“Christ, even bein’ raised in the club, our families never put us in that predicament.” Silas runs his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp before repeating the process.

“Yeah, when you came out of the bar, it was the perfect timing. I didn’t want his attention, promise. My only goal was to get Jessica and drag her dumb ass out of there. That didn’t happen, though. By the time I grabbed her wrist, trying to get her to follow me, she bobbed and weaved, so I was leaving. Then Winslow came at me. Nailing him in the nuts didn’t give me enough time to get away. Of course, he somehow managed to corner me. I fought him off as much as I could, but it didn’t help. I was too small, he was overpowering me, and honestly, for a moment there I was ready to admit defeat. Better to take my licks than end up dead, right?” I ask, but it’s not really a question. Silas’ body locks up tight beneath me. He’s getting upset, and I haven’t even made it to the other part he wants to know. “It took a lot of counseling during those years after you went away to realize it wasn’t my fault. There’s nothing I could have done, said, or worn that would have mattered. It’s on him. He’s the one at fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Doe, not fuckin’ at all. If it meant me sittin’ in prison because it saved you the expense of being raped or killed, I’d do it again, a thousand times over. I’m not upset with you, not at all. The system failed you, it failed me, and it’s not going to stop either, not with a crooked-ass governor, judge, and a whole other shit ton of people in this three-ring circus.” All this time, I was worried that Silas hated me when he didn’t. He was just pissed off at the people surrounding our circumstance.

“Yeah, it really sucked. The Phillips didn’t believe me, and neither did the police, even with the bruising on my arms and his skin under my fingernails. So, I went back to doing what my social worker told me. Keep my head down, get good grades, and leave the minute I could.” I don’t tell Silas that after school, my job at the diner was my saving grace. I stayed there until it closed at eleven o’clock at night, when I had to go back to where I refused to call a home because it was anything but, getting the barest amount of sleep then starting all over again.

“Pissed as hell about that, too. Can’t go into details because it’s club business, but I can tell you that shit will get rectified. Now, Dad mentioned your bags were packed when he came to collect you without knowin’ your intentions.”

“That shocked me, too. I was going to the women’s shelter to figure out my next step. Bags packed, that year I also discovered there were hidden cameras in my bedroom.” I’ll never forget that day. I knew going to the police wasn’t going to get me anywhere. It didn’t last time, so why would it that time? Instead, I got creative, not changing in my room, and if I had to, I’d do what most girls would do when there’s an outfit change in public—keep yourself covered. It also started getting more hostile. Arguments galore were popping up between Karl and his wife, Deanna.

“I’m going to fuckin’ kill him.” Silas gets up, moving me so I’m sitting on the bed. I’m scrambling, but he’s already at the door.

“Silas, stop, please.” There’s no catching up. He’s out of the bedroom, and by the time I make it to the doorway, Shadow is already in his boots, something Silas forgot to do if he was really taking off to kill anyone.

“I’ve got him. Do me a favor and bring out what he’ll need. You stay with the women, alright, Gigi?” It’s not like I can say no, even though it’s killing me not to, and, well, you know, run after Silas before he does. Instead, I nod and grab his clothes that are discarded in a pile beside my bed all the while praying Silas comes back to me.