It was the first time for as long as I could remember that my bare face and naturally loose hair in the mirror didn’t make me want to turn away in revulsion. I’d tanned a bit after all the time spent outdoors, and my hair had lightened in the sun.
I looked healthy. Not impeccable and done up, but actually healthy, with rosy cheeks that had filled out from three solid meals of Lily and Gram’s cooking every day, and clear eyes.
I didn’t bother with makeup after that, or my own clothes for that matter. I went barefoot and lay around in Lily’s old housedresses from the sixties. Gram and I never left the property anyway, leaving Lily to pick up groceries and other odds and ends we needed at the local grocery store, so it wasn’t as if anyone saw me. Most of the time I just showered and threw my hair into a messy bun, anxious to get outside or up to Lily’s attic to explore.
Lily’s house was a freaking treasure trove of vintage goods. I swear to God, the old broad never threw anything out, which was fantastic as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t sure if it was because Natasha hadn’t kept anything for more than a few years or because I’d lost most of my things when I’d left my old life, but I loved anything that had a history. There were old quilts, toys, clothes, and furniture in Lily’s attic, and I spent hours and hours going through her things while Gram and Lily ignored me as if I were out of my mind.
I was in the attic, going through an old trunk filled with clothes from the eighties, when Cody called. The first words out of his mouth sounded frustrated.
“Hey, Ladybug.”
“Hey, handsome. What’s up?”
“Not gonna be able to make it out this weekend.” He sighed. “Grease and I talked it over, baby. After two weeks with nobody bothering you . . . just not sure that I should be drawing attention to where you are.”
“Shit.” I knew what he said made sense. We were in our own little bubble out there in the boonies, and if he came to see me, we took the risk of someone following him.
“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”
“Well, are they figuring out how to fix shit? Because seriously, babe, I can’t stay here forever. I mean, it’s great, but I have a life. I can’t imagine the people at the club are too fired up to live there forever either.”
“No shit. It’s like Wild Kingdom up here. The kids are bouncing off the walls, the women are snapping at their men and each other, and the single guys are getting pissed that they can’t have the club whores out. It’s a fucking mess.”
“Well, are you guys almost done . . . doing whatever you’re doing?” I asked.
“Yeah, baby. Had to postpone some shit. Brenna had the baby, so Dragon’s been up there for the past few days, plus the boys have been taking shifts at the hospital just to be safe. Leaves us with less men than we need to do anything about the threat.”
“Fucking Brenna,” I mumbled, making him laugh.
“Not a whole lot she could do about it, baby. The little dude had to come out,” he replied. I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Everything go okay there?” I asked reluctantly.
“Yeah, went good as far as I know. They named him after me.”
“No shit?” I asked after a few moments of silence.
“No shit. Leo Cody White.”
“Well . . . that’s pretty cool,” I grumbled.
“Yeah, I was surprised, but Brenna was pretty firm on the name. She’ll be coming home today, I think.”
“I miss you,” I blurted, done talking about Brenna and her perfect little family.
“I miss you too. Don’t think it’ll be much longer,” he replied quietly. “I miss those ladybugs.”
I giggled, then slapped my hand to my forehead in irritation. I was not a freaking giggler. “I miss your cock.”
He sucked in a loud breath through his teeth. “So that’s the game we’re playing? Okay, I’m down. I miss those gorgeous tits that I can fit in my mouth.”
“Not so sure you can do that anymore,” I answered. “I miss those beautiful long fingers of yours.”
“Wait, back to your tits,” he said quickly. “What do you mean, I can’t put them in my mouth anymore?”
“They’re bigger—” He groaned. “Lily and your gram are fattening me up like a pig for the state fair.”
“Good, you needed to gain some weight,” he said.
“What?” No, seriously, what?
“Farrah, you’re always beautiful, but sometimes you get so fucking small that if you turned sideways you’d disappear.”
“Ouch.” Really, ouch.
“Don’t do that. Don’t get defensive. All I’m saying is that I’m glad you’re getting healthy, Ladybug. I worry, okay?” he said gently. “Now I wish I was there so I could show you all the places on your body I fucking love, skinny or fat or anywhere in between.”
I couldn’t help but be a little hurt at his comments, but I knew he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I also knew that sometimes I got too small. I tried not to, but it was a struggle for me. The first time Gator had made comments about how perky and full my tits were, I felt so disgusting that I’d immediately started dieting to get rid of some of my curves. I’d only been fourteen and poor, so the diet had mostly consisted of not eating. It wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t right, but it had started a pattern of eating habits that I’d had a hard time shaking. If I was stressed, I didn’t eat. It wasn’t a conscious thing; I just forgot or told myself I’d do it later, and then before I knew it I’d lost five or ten pounds that I couldn’t afford to lose.