Page 28 of The Biker's Second Chance
"Yeah, me neither. I thought by now we'd have our little farmhouse, with the porch you were constantly trying to fix." She laughs, and even though the memory does bring some pain, it's not as much.
"You and that farmhouse. I swear, you're obsessed. Do I look like I'd do good on a farm?"
"Yes... Yes you do."
I rub the back of my neck and move to the side so she can grab another item of clothing to put away. "It was a nice dream, but things change."
"Yeah, I guess. It was nice to dream about though."
Suddenly, I find myself curious about what her current dreams are. "So what about now? What do you want for yourself?"
"Space." She groans and spreads her arms out, gesturing to her room. "I don't need a farmhouse. Maybe just a small two-bedroom, big living room, a yard. Some place I can go outside and not worry about who is shooting up on the corner."
"You can still have that one day, you know."
"I know. I'm working toward it. It'll just take some time. I can be patient."
The determination in her voice warms me. "You were always the patient one. The best of the two of us."
"You're not wrong." She laughs, and I actually join her.
We stand there, at the tail end of the laughter, until the silence starts to feel a bit oppressive.
"What about from the bathroom? Do you need anything from there?" I walk out before she has a chance to say anything.
I walk into the bathroom. It's mostly bare. Just the necessities. I look under her sink and see the tampons and other feminine products under there. I don't know how long she's going to be at the clubhouse with me, but I want to make sure she has everything she needs. I grab the feminine products, but just as I'm about to stand up, I look in the garbage and see a few pieces of bloody gauze. It looks old, but I didn't see any cuts on her.
Going back into the room with the tampons in my hand, Jayne gets embarrassed and quickly grabs the items from me.
"I would've gotten it."
My voice is calm, steady. "I was in there. I'm here to help you, remember."
She just nods but doesn't look back up at me. I need to know where the blood came from.
"There's bloody gauze in the garbage can. Is it yours?"
Her eyes pop up to mine, and for a brief second it looks like she's confused until recognition dawns on her features.
"No, it's one of the girls I was helping. Her feet were all cut up. Some sort of punishment that no one would be able to see."
I cringe thinking about it. "That's fucking horrible."
"Tell me about it. When they told me some of the shit that bastard would do to them, I nearly threw up." She shakes her head and sits on the edge of her bed. "That's why I need to help them, Spike. This isn't just some complex or whatever. Those women need someone on their side. They don't deserve what's happening to them, no matter how they wound up here. What if it was me? I'd want someone to help me. It's the right thing to do."
I sit next to her, getting a deeper insight into her mindset. "Just because it's right doesn't mean it's going to be easy."
"As it shouldn't be. Nothing with me is ever easy. You should know that by now. Still, even if it's the hardest thing I'll ever do, I have to at least try. How would I be able to live with myself knowing that I'm here safe when those women are right next to me fighting for their lives? I'll never be able to look myself in the mirror. This is as much for me as it is for them. If I can help, it's my duty to do just that."
I've heard most of this before, just with different subjects. This is the same thing she used to tell me when she'd try to get me to help out some other nameless victim. It's not until this very moment that I realize just how selfish I'd been when Jayne and I were together. If I'd only listened to her, heard her out, pushed to do more than just what was good for the club, maybe Jayne would still be with me. We'd still be together.
I don't want to admit that I was wrong, but it's become more and more clear that neither was she.
One way or another, I'm going to have to figure out a way to make amends for my immature, selfish ways.
CHAPTER 15
PARTY INVITATIONS
