Page 18 of Patching Over

After mindlessly flipping channels on the remote, I find a show that looks interesting. Once again, despite the fact I’ve gone nowhere and seen no one, I end up taking a bath. I know it’s all in my head, that I’m no longer disgustingly filthy, but I still feel the need to scour every inch of my skin in scalding hot water. Not sure what that says about me, but I guess it’s just what I need to do for the time being.

Clothes which are more appropriate for me were delivered at some point, so I eagerly dig through the bags to see what Brick ordered. A tiny part of me would love to continue wearing his sweats because I feel safe wrapped in his scent, but they’re so humongous on me, they’d actually be a hazard when I start moving around more.

“Oh, wow,” I hum as the first bag reveals soft, almost fuzzy, sweats in a rainbow variety of pretty, feminine colors. For as long as I can remember, I’ve never had anything with a brand-new price tag, so honestly, he could’ve ordered shit brown sweats and a potato sack for me to wear, and I would be gratefulbecause they weren’t hand-me-downs. Only, he didn’t; I pull out sets of sweats in blue, pink, purple, and gray. A package of panties has me blushing, but I need those as well so quickly push my discomfort aside. Besides, if what he said is true, eventually, he will see me in far less.

“He already has,” I murmur to myself as I continue emptying the overflowing totes. Two pairs of jeans, several long-sleeved shirts like he wears, socks, pajamas, and several sports bras are soon stacked around me on the bed where I finally brought all the bags when I realized how much he ordered.

Two more bags are left, so I take a deep breath, and open the first one then immediately burst into tears. “He didn’t!” I whisper-yell as I peer at the contents. Reaching in, I pull out two boxes, one a multi-pack of tampons and one of different flow pads, neither of which I’ve ever had available to me for use during my menstrual cycle. I don’t think I’ll admit that fact to him because I know he was pissed when I told him what happened the first time. I’ll just read the instructions when I need to use them. I quickly put them back in the bag then check to see what else is inside.

A hairbrush and comb set. Headbands and scrunchies to pull my hair back. One of those giant bottles of shampoo and another of conditioner, which was a luxury I also never had. I open the top and immediately smell it, then grin when I recognize the scent. He got me lavender scented hair products.

“You did too much,” I announce, even though I’m still alone in his suite. “I’d have been happy with one new outfit, a bar of soap, and one of those hotel size shampoos.” My parents knew someone who worked at a local motel, and they gave them the travel size products that came out of rooms that were previously occupied, which were given to me to use so they ‘didn’t waste money’ on me, but still appearing to be the good guys by providing my hygienic necessities.

Still, even though I know he went above and beyond what I expected, spending more money than I can fathom, I can’t help the giddy sensations flowing inside of me because he thought enough of me to shop and provide me with what he felt I would need. Once all the bags are emptied, I set about trying to find places to put everything. The bathroom stuff goes in there, where conveniently, I find an emptied-out drawer, with the pads and tampons staying in the sack as I shove them underneath the sink cabinet. My shampoo and conditioner are set on one of the shower’s many ledges, as is the bar of soap. Hell, he even got me some skin cleanser and moisturizer! Those are luxury items that have never been given to me before this. I put those on the side of the bathroom sink where his beard maintenance stuff is, then notice a brand-new toothbrush still in the wrapper setting center on the countertop where I wouldn’t miss seeing it.

Now, I’m beyond humiliated because he’s gotten close enough to me to smell my breath! Quickly, I rip open the packaging then grab the toothpaste he has sitting on what I’m referring to as his side of the sink. Once I turn on the tap and add the toothpaste, I spend the next several minutes scrubbing my teeth, mouth, and tongue until everything tingles. After cleaning up my mess, I begin exploring the rest of the room for a pad of paper and pen.

“Aha! There you are!” I cry out when I find an empty notebook and refillable ink pen. I figure I should make a list of everything I’d like to do now that I’m essentially free, like Brick suggested during one of our chats.

As I lose myself creating my list, I feel some of the past slide away. While I’m still worried about my parents and Enoch, I remember reading an article in a magazine my parents brought home that we can’t control our pasts or what is done to us, but wecancontrol our reactions and how we move forward. I know I’ll never willingly allow myself to be in a position like I grew upin ever again, so I jot it down. I’d like to learn how to defend myself. I want a pet of some kind, something I can take care of and love. I want an education of some sort so I can decide what I want to do to earn money.

By the time I’m done, I’ve got one whole side and half of another filled with things I plan to accomplish. My stomach begins growling so I look at the clock on the nightstand and realize several hours have passed. I don’t want to go wandering around the clubhouse, though, because I know there are club women running around, as well as the big, hulking bikers.

My parents and Enoch aren’t bikers, but my parents had associates who were and when they’d come to the house to party, they scared me because of their size and mannerisms. Brick is much, much taller than I am, and he’s heavily muscled, but despite his intimidating presence, he makes me feel safe and secure.

As soon as my thoughts turn to him, those darn butterflies start fluttering again in my stomach. “Stop, Rae. He may have said he’s interested in making you his ol’ lady, but that was just to keep you calm because of Enoch and your parents.”

“He never says anything he doesn’t mean, Sprite,” Brick states, scaring the shit out of me and making me scream.

“You just scared me to death!” I remark, daring to glare at him as my heart pounds in my chest.

“Rayleigh, I’ve been standing here for the last five minutes or so, watching you focus on whatever you’re writing. You were so focused, you didn’t hear the door open or me call your name. Are you hungry?” he asks, grinning at my flustered appearance. I know my face is red because I can feel the heat of embarrassment over him hearing me converse with myself.

My stomach growls again causing him to laugh out loud. The deep timbre makes me shiver, but not in a bad way. “Yes, I’m hungry,” I admit, as though he didn’t hear for himself.

“Got one of the guys picking up some Chinese food, do you like it?”

I shrug before replying, “I don’t know, but I’m eager to try.” I don’t miss the look of anger that crosses his face before he masks it.

“I see you found your clothes. Does everything fit?”

“I don’t know if all of it fits, but it looks like it will,” I justify. “Thank you isn’t enough. You did too much.”

“You deserve every good thing, Rayleigh. This is just a start.”

“Thank you. Um, you said something about my own place, when can I see it?” I hesitantly ask.

“Ready to get away from me so soon?” he teases, sitting next to me on the end of the bed. I can feel the heat from his body radiating off of him, which has me unconsciously moving closer, so his warmth seeps into me.

“It’s not that, Brick. But you’ve given up your bed for me when I’m awake now and can sleep on the couch! Plus, I’m ready to start living.”

“We’re in the process of taking care of your parents, but since several brothers are keeping an eye on them, I don’t see any issue with getting you settled in over there. How about after we eat, I take you to get the things you’ll need so you can start your new life? While we eat, Hawg’s going to join us because he’s setting up a laptop for you to use. He’ll show you the basics so you can see what’s necessary to get your GED.”

“What will I do for work?” I’m excited to earn my keep, live independently, making my own rules and decisions.

He smiles before admitting, “We’ve got an apartment right over the bar in town, which we own. That way, you’ll always have brothers around for protection, not that I think you’re going to need it once the rest of the trash is disposed of. We also own a tattoo parlor across the street. You’ll be responsible for cleaning both places. The bar in the morning before it opens, and thetattoo shop right after. That’ll give you plenty of time to explore around town, do your schooling once you sign up, and learn how to take care of yourself. Sound good?”

I stare at him in shock because it sounds too good to be true. “Are you serious?”

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