Page 7 of Inflame Me
“When you stop, get the box,” she says.
I instantly remember the box from her closet, and I can’t help wondering what is inside.
“Were you planning on leaving him?” I ask, thinking maybe it’s money.
“I didn’t know what I was going to do. I just needed it for a rainy day …” She trails off. “And today, it’s pouring.”
I do as she says and get us into a small, musty-smelling room with a carpet that is straight-out-of-the-seventies orange. Mom told me to leave most of the stuff in the car, but bring some clothes. I helped Mom the best I could, and with each step she took, she gritted her teeth.
She’s always been strong, working job after job to take care of me and still being there when I got out of school. There is no one better than her. No one. Faults and all.
“I want you to put on sexy jeans and a tight top.”
I stare at her, my jaw slacked. Did she really just say that?
Her eyes meet mine. “Go with it,” she announces like it’s the final say, which it is since she’s my mom, but really? I’m going to wear sexy jeans to meet my father? The thought of it is beyond strange. “You need to cover up all the bruises and marks that you can. Your split lip will be hard, but we can put fire red lipstick on, and it will cover it from afar.”
“Why do I need to do all this? You know him; why don’t you do it?”
“Look at me, Tanner,” she says, her voice weak. “You’re going to the clubhouse where I’m pretty sure he is. To get in there, you need to look sexy and hot. Once you get his attention, bring him out to talk to me. I’ll take care of the rest.” Her lip quivers, telling me she’s nervous, which only makes me nervous.
“You sure this is a good idea, Mom?” I question as the pit of my stomach aches. Not only am I meeting my father for the first time, but I have no idea what I’m walking into.
“It’s the best option we have right now. Cameron will know what to do.”
WE PULL UP to this massive warehouse thing with tall gates and barbed wire around the top. Maybe thinking this was a cult was right on target. The whole thing gives me an eerie feeling. The large, metal gate is open as cars line one side of the drive and bikes the other. To the left is a garage, and on the right, it looks like a big party area with people scattered all around.
“Mom?” My voice quivers with fear. My father is here, at a party?
People are scattered all around: women in barely-there clothes, couples making out and groping each other. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, and that’s just from the car. What the hell am I going to see when I get in there?
I throw the car in park and look to my mother for guidance.
“I can see in your face you’re petrified. Get it out of your head. Confidence and head up. You are so damn strong, Tanner. I know what’s happened has rattled you, but don’t let it. Your father will help us. I know he will. I need you to walk in there like you own the place and plaster a smile on your beautiful face. The first guy you see with a leather vest on, you ask for Cameron Wagner. Got it?”
Do I have it? A huge part of me wants to scream to the heavens and run faster than the speed of light out of here, far from this. I can’t, though. I have nowhere else to run to.
I pull out my inner bitch-with-’tude and nod to my mother. “Then what?”
“When you tell him who you are, he’s not going to believe you. You’re going to have to bring him out here to me.” I catch that little tremor in her voice from the thought of seeing him. Holy hell, after all this time, he still affects her this much.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Mom reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it, her eyes flinching in pain, but I feed off the comfort of her touch. “Tanner, there is nothing to be nervous about. Since there’s a party going on, I’d normally wait, but we don’t have time for that right now.” She’s right, not that I know what the hell Cameron will do.
I suck in not only my confidence, but that of my mother. “I’m ready.”
Walking up to the large door of a huge warehouse, my mind whirls when I see several couples in various stages of undress. One woman is actually pulling a guy’s penis out of his pants and bending down. Holy shit! I’m no virgin, but in public, at a party, with everyone watching? He has one of those leather vests on, but there is no way I’m asking him. Screw that.
I open the heavy, wooden door and am blasted with loud music, cigarette smoke, and the stench of beer. I blink my eyes, getting focused from the onslaught of light from the room. With my smile plastered firmly in place, I look around, getting the lay of the land before I move toward the bar. People are scattered everywhere. Some are on the dance floor, dancing provocatively.
“Hey, beautiful. Where you been all my life?” is said.
I turn to the voice. The man attached to it has blond hair pulled back tightly with a red, white, and blue bandana gracing the top and across his forehead. His long beard matches his hair and comes down to his chest. His mustache pretty much covers his lips, but I can still see he’s smirking at me. Wrinkled lines surround his leathered face.
“That work with all the ladies?” I ask with a soft smile, not allowing a bit of the uncomfortableness to come through. I’m strong. I have a mission. I’m on it. Done.
“Only when I want it to.” His hand comes out to my hip, and it takes everything in my power not to flinch from the touch because of the bruises he cannot see. He’s not bad-looking, just a stranger. Since when do I allow strangers to touch me? Apparently, this is a first.
