Page 14 of Patching Over

He stands and walks toward me, then sits on the bed next to my hip, sending the fluttering into overdrive. Pushing a button, he flips his phone over so it’s facing me then asks, “Is this him?”

I take a deep breath. Exhale. Then fill my lungs with air once more. Finally, when I think I’ll be able to look at his phone without panicking, I glance down and the blood solidly freezes in my veins. Tears come unbidden to my eyes as I swallow several times before managing to squeak out, “Yes. That’s Enoch, myabuser.” Admitting this out loud for the first time makes me feel less like a victim and more like a survivor.

Strong arms wrap around me before I’m pulled onto his lap. As Brick starts talking, trying to soothe the fear which is causing me to shake uncontrollably. I don’t hear the words, my mind’s back in the shack where I was beaten nearly to death, yet the deep tone and vibration of his murmurs starts to replace the shock and terror with peace.

“I’m not a victim anymore,” I internally chant. I’m still struggling with my yo-yoing emotions, but as long as I keep reminding myself of this, the less of a burden I’ll feel. The rumbling of Brick’s voice makes me feel safe, alive, cherished, and protected. Until I’m secure with the new life provided to me, I’ll let his masculine presence relieve the fear gnawing inside of me.

“You’re safe, Rayleigh. No one is going to hurt you ever again, sweetheart. We’re going to take care of him, remember?” His words, which he’s been continuously repeating, finally sink into my head and I’m able to nod.

Instead of letting me go, he continues to hold me, one of his hands running up and down my back as he sends a message back to advise the recipient that the photo Brick’s shown to me is in fact, Enoch. I hear his phone chime and watch as he glances at it then chuckles. “What’s going on, Brick?” I ask, my voice still a bit tremulous.

“While it’s club business, let’s just say Enoch’s life is about to be changed forever,” he supplies. “Now, let’s get some pizza ordered so I can feed my woman.”

“What do you mean when you say your woman?”

He chuckles a bit as he does something on his phone while I’m still nestled in his arms, then states, “We should probably talk a bit more.”

That snarky voice inside of my head, who always stays hidden within me snorts, “Ya think?” I never express her words aloud, not after her sass escaped once upon a time when I was younger and earned me a dislocated jaw.

Instead of jumping into any kind of discussion, he told me to go take my bath while we waited for the pizza to arrive, so here I am, soaking in a hot bath complete with Epsom salts which he claims will help with any soreness that may still be lingering from my healing injuries. As I allow the warmth to seep into my bones, I think about everything that’s happened in such a short amount of time. There’s a lot to try and figure out, so I hope he’s going to be patient with me, especially since I’ve got a multitude of shortcomings.

Taking the washcloth he gave me, I resist the urge to scrub my skin raw, knowing I’m already clean thanks to Brick. With my face heating up in embarrassment, I carefully look at the bruises which are all that remain of the savage beating from Enoch. Well, except for the various scars covering my lower torso and upper legs. Some are jagged looking while others are short, tiny, iridescent white lines. I suspect most of them probably needed stitches at the time they occurred, which definitely didn’t happen for me seeing as no one cared if I bled to death or not.

“Scarecrow,” I whisper as the cloth slides across my ribcage. Every bone is pronounced, even my hip bones jut out. “Rae, you’re a mess.”

Quickly finishing up, I get out of the tub, pull the plug then dry off before slipping on the clean pair of sweats Brick placed on his dresser for me to use. Rolling up the sleeves on the armsas well as the legs, I look at myself in the mirror and screw up my face while sticking out my tongue at my reflection. I sure as hell won’t win any beauty contests right now. A brief thought crosses my mind which I shut down before it can firmly take root. I wonder if under different circumstances Brick would be interested in me.

“Fairytales aren’t real, dummy,” I chastise myself. I keep my voice down, instinctively knowing if Brick heard me, he’d be angry since I’m putting myself down once again. It’s all I’ve known, so if he expects me to change that part of who I am overnight, he’s going to find out differently. It’s gonna take me some time to get there.

Walking out of the bathroom, I smell something so delicious, my mouth begins watering in anticipation of tasting the blended flavors. “Pizza’s here,” he announces, waving me over to join him in his sitting area.

He’s pulled a coffee table over and there are two huge boxes currently open. A slice of each pizza is on the plate he hands me, while his plate has four pieces. Of each one! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat that much at one time, but he’s definitely larger than me so it’s probably more like a snack than a meal. “This smells wonderful,” I respond, leaning closer to sniff the pizza’s aroma, which causes him to chuckle.

“It tastes as good as it smells,” he teases.

Taking him at his word, I take a small bite and immediately moan as the flavors burst across my tongue. “Holy smokes,” I mumble around what I’m currently chewing. “This is much better than what I was served in school.”

“Didn’t I tell you how much better this would be?” he probes.

Instead of verbally answering, I merely nod, too intent on enjoying my slice of heavenly pizza. He chuckles at my enthusiasm over what to him is likely nothing special. But to me? It’s everything. My mood dampens slightly when I realize hemay think I’m acting like a child, then he lightly reprimands me by saying, “I suspect everything from here on in may be new to you, but never lose your enthusiasm, Sprite. It’s refreshing.”

As my face heats up in embarrassment, I grab the can of soda he had put in front of me and take a long swallow. “I probably sound like a dork.”

“Not to me. Now, I said something earlier and I want to explain it a bit more. Because I found you, you’re under the protection of the Royal Bastards. Except, I find I’m attracted to you which is something I didn’t expect to happen. While I believe you’d make a good ol’ lady because you’ve proven you’re a survivor, I don’t think you’ve ever had any kind of freedom. Instead of forcing you to accept my claim on you, I want you to figure out whatyouwant out of life first.”

Slowly shaking my head, I reply, “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying, Brick.”

“In my world, when a man takes a woman on as his ol’ lady, it’s forever. Unlike common citizens, which is what we call anyone who’s not a biker, we don’t divorce. The only way to break that claim is through death. So, if I claim you as my ol’ lady, you’re mine and I’m yours until one of us draws our last breath.”

Hmm, belong to him? My life might’ve been shitastic, but being called his wouldn’t be a hardship. “How long do I have to decide if I want this too?” I ask instead of begging him to make me his now.

“As long as you need. That doesn’t mean I won’t be around, but if you decide this area is too painful for you to remain living here, if needed I’ll reach out to another chapter to see if you can relocate there.”

“Why? Why are you doing all of this?” My insecurity has me asking this question.

“Because Fate apparently has a sense of humor when it comes to me.” He shakes his head as if he too is having a hard time understanding the why of it.

I’m about to say something else in rebuttal when a yawn escapes. Seeing that I’m getting tired again, he takes my empty plate from my hand, sets it on the table, then holds his hand out for me to take. Feeling my fingers laced in his, warmth shoots through me. He leads me over to the bed then tucks me in once again. Leaning down, his lips brush across my forehead, the whiskers from his beard causing me to giggle which turns his eyes darker.

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