Page 26 of Brazen Being It

I join her at the sink, and we fall into a rhythm. She doesn’t ask questions, and I don’t offer answers.

But for the first time, I feel something that almost resembles friendship.

That night, Little Foot brings me to a firepit behind the clubhouse. There’s music, beer, grilled meat, and a crowd of bodies moving in time to the bass. It feels like a celebration, but no one says why.

“You okay?” he asks as he hands me a drink.

“I think so.” I nurse the beer like I know what I’m doing.

“You’re doing good. I know it’s a lot of people.”

I sip and glance around. “They’re still looking at me like I might explode.”

“Let ‘em. You’re here because I said so. That’s enough.”

I nod, grateful.

He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it.

It’s warm. Strong.

Real.

Later, as the fire burns low and the crowd thins, I lean into him and say, “I don’t know how to be what they want. What you want.”

“You’re not here to be what they want,” he whispers. “You’re here to be mine. And I want you exactly as you are.”

And something inside me breaks. Not in a bad way. But in that way where things finally start to heal. Where someone finally gives a damn. Where I realize this might not just be survival anymore. It might be the beginning of something real.

Eventually we leave the party and come home. We don’t sleep right away. We talk—about nothing, about everything. I tell him about the music I used to love, the books I hid in bathroom cabinets so Frankie wouldn’t steal them. He tells me about his first ride, about crashing a dirt bike when he was ten, about how everyone thought he’d end up in prison before he turned twenty-one.

I tell him he’s a better man than he thinks. He tells me I’m stronger than I know.

We fall asleep with our fingers tangled and the sound of the woods outside the trailer whispering secrets.

Morning comes and I take it all in.

I’m still here. Still his. Still pretending. But maybe not so much anymore. With every passing minute, I feel this connection to the man beyond being saved from my past.

SIX

CAMBRIA

Sometimes only a woman can understand.

I havewell and truly lost my mind. Why did I do this? I pace the small space of the trailer. It’s been three days and reality is setting in.

Drew is at work.

He left cash on the counter, keys to a truck, and another good morning note.

I grip my phone looking at the screen.

I don’t really have another choice. Everyone is a stranger here.

With trembling hands, I dial Dre’s number. Everyone either calls her Dre or Drea I have learned, but her actual name is Andrea. She really is Andrew’s twin. And they have a bunch of other siblings, two of which I haven’t even met yet.

It is a lot to take in, meeting Drew’s people. Between the club and around home, I can’t keep them all straight in my mind.

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