Page 2 of Completing Her

“That’s what happens when you let an animal in… Give them the slightest opening and then they’re claiming you and you’re stuck. Everybody knows that. It’s why you have to be careful about who you let in.”

She bit her lip, looking from the door to the pizza on the kitchen table. It wasn’t like she’d had a choice with either of them. Her brows drew together. He wasn’t giving her a warning, was he? “Anyway,” she pushed the door wider. “Come in.” He shouldered his way inside. Widening the opening she’d created for his broad shoulders. “It isn’t much.” She waved her hand around the small living and dining room area. Ugh, she balled her hands into fists. Why did she do that? Why put her apartment down? It was small, but dammit, she loved it. It hadn’t been easy to make the little apartment comfy and cozy and perfect. But now that he was standing in it. The warm rose-colored walls seemed to close in on her. Who had pink walls? No doubt, he was cringing inside. But she loved it. She lived in a Barbie dream house. Bright and sunny, fun, and cozy. Colorful and light. She’d loved Barbie growing up. The Barbie, who was empowered, living her best life, running a business, flying a rocket ship, teaching at a university.ThatBarbie. And doing it all in pretty clothes, high fashion, killer shoes, and a saucy hair flip ponytail. Okay, so maybe she didn’t have all that, but when she stepped into her home, she stepped into the fantasy that she was in control. She had it going on, even if nobody knew it but her. Until Sean, that kid, had made her feel like nothing was within her power. Forcing her to lean on somebody. “Sit down. Can I get you something to drink? Sorry, I don’t have anything stronger than soda…”

“Soda is fine. It’ll go with the pizza. What cola do you have?”

“Sorry, no colas. I only do the fruity stuff. Orange, strawberry, lemon-lime, take your pick.”

He grimaced. Looked around again at girl central and winced. Literally winced. Okay, so maybe it was a little over-the-top, but she never expected to entertain a biker. “I’ll take the orange, thank you.”

“Coming right up.”

“So, I, uh, take it you like pink. I never would have figured it. Downstairs, you’re always in blue and black…”

“Marketing.” He raised his brow. “Blue makes customers feel you’re trustworthy and black means structured, organized. At least that’s what the decorator suggested when I was setting up the shop.”

“You hired a decorator? We just put up our sign, got good equipment and went for it. We did try to make it look clean and professional. Put some stuff in so people could relax while they were waiting. It feels more like a sports bar than a tattoo shop.”

“I’ve never visited.”

“Yeah, I know. I figured you were part of the group that didn’t want us settling in the neighborhood.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and then tugged it back out. Damn, she’d wondered if he knew about that. “Sorry. I guess we didn’t know what to expect when a bunch of bikers. A motorcycle gang takes over a corner of our business district. For all we knew, you guys could have been planning on running drugs or sex slaves out of the store.”

“You could have asked.”

“Do drug dealers just admit it? I wouldn’t have thought so…”

“So instead, you judged us based on stereotypes.”

“That’s not fair. I try not to judge people. I get judged enough because of my appearance.”

“What’s wrong with your appearance?” Her eyes narrowed. Some people openly stared. Other people looked and then looked away. A few people asked, but nobody acted like it wasn’t there. “Oh, you mean the scarring.” He shrugged. “What happened?”

She waved him towards the table. Turning to get the plates and glasses while she spoke. It wasn’t because it was easier to talk without his eyes piercing her. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not like they could eat off the table and drink from their hands. And if her voice shook, it was only because nobody had asked about it in a while. “Nothing big. My father and I were in a crash. He was killed, and I survived.”

She took a deep breath before she turned around. Molly braced herself for the pity didn’t see any.Thank you, Lord.Just a simple, “That’s tough.” And really, that was all anybody could say. The simple truth. “Who was driving?”

“He was. On his motorcycle. He was taking a ride on his first bike. He was so excited. I was terrified. But he’d been saving up for it for years. Wanted the best, most expensive bike on the road. Paid cash. He’d only had it one weekend before we went for a ride. A truck came out of nowhere and ended it all. We both went flying in different directions. He rolled across the pavement, where he got hit again. I slid under the truck, and it ignited. They say I was lucky I had my helmet on and the flames only scorched a part of my face, but…”

“Jeez. How old were you?”

“Sixteen. I hadn’t even learned to drive yet. Had been looking forward to it. But I never wanted to after the accident.” She plated the pizza. Handing him his and met his eyes. “I’m terrified of motorcycles.”

She ducked her eyes back to the pizza. Because there it was… the pity. Who didn’t pity the orphan girl? “So, you can’t drive at all?” She didn’t know how he forced his words out through his open mouth. The look on his face was laughable. She could have told him she’d escaped the Mad Hatter’s village on planet Pluto, and he’d look less shocked.

“Nope.” she stuffed the pizza in her mouth and let the warm crust and salty cheese melt in her mouth. “Lorenzo’smakes the best pizza. Seriously, they should be on the map of best U.S. pizza places. Maybe best in the world.” Rage’s eyes didn’t blink, and he didn’t take the change of subject, so… She swallowed her bite down her dry as a desert throat. “At first I was sad about it. Sad about everything I’d lost that year. Friends, family, my home, I lost everybody.” Was she talking too much? She stole another sip of her soda, and another peek at this face. Gauging if he wanted her to continue. “They’d put me in a foster home at first. Because I was too young to live alone, and they couldn’t find my mom. Which was best since she’d left when I was a toddler, anyway.”

“Your friends? You didn’t have anybody you could lean on? Nobody had your back?”

“Remember, when I first got out, the scars looked way worse than they do now. And they’d shaved my head. One side of my body was in a cast. I looked like a drive-in movieCreature Featuremonster. Even the people I thought were my friends didn’t want to hang around me. Not when I started getting called names and bullied. Nobody wants to be friends with the kid getting bullied. You don’t want to draw that attention to yourself. They thought it was loyal, that they were my secret friends. As long as nobody knew, then we could still be cool. Just not in school.”

“When I was about six or seven, I was bullied, big time. Yeah, yeah, I know. Everybody looks at my size today and can’t picture me small and puny. But believe me, I was. When I was twelve, you could have dunked me in water with a heavy winter coat on and I still wouldn’t have weighed a buck-twenty. I had great parents, but my dad drove the neighborhood garbage truck. Good, honest work that is tough as hell. But once the kids in my school found out, they were relentless. I was Smelly-Melly Michael for years. And the friends I thought I’d had didn’t want to be seen with me anymore. I became this angry, raging kid, always in trouble. Always fighting. So, fuck that shit. I hope you told them to go straight to fucking hell.” The brown flecks in his eyes flared like a gas stove’s flame and twice as hot. Who was she kidding? He was hot. Period.

“I did. It might not as been as colorful as…” She pointed her glass above his head as if she were pointing to an obscene speech bubble. “As what you said. But I definitely rejected their kind offer.” He nodded and now a smile flashed. “Of course, everybody was friendlier when word spread about my cash settlement. But luckily, I’d been placed in a good foster home. The best foster parents ever. A wonderful couple who took in three other kids. The father, my new dad, was an investment broker. He helped me invest and manage my money. Mom, my foster mother, helped me see that my life still had meaning. They are a great couple who couldn’t have kids. But they say they were blessed with the best kids in the world.”

“You love them?” The first time, his had eyes widened.

“Yes. Are you surprised?”

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