Page 11 of Wire
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“Can I ask you something?” Wire’s smooth voice breaks through the comfortable silence in the car. Well, not totally silent, the radio is turned down low, playing some song I can’t quite hear enough to work out what it is.
I turn to look at him before nodding.
“How come you’re completely different at work?”
My brow furrows. I’m not sure what he means. “I’m just me.”
He glances at me before speaking again. “At the library, with the kids, you’re confident and assertive. At the MC, you’re timid and go out of your way to not be seen or heard. Sort of invisible.”
Instead of answering straight away, I look out my side window and pause to think.
“Um, when I was younger, my mom would tell me to make myself invisible. Then when I moved into the clubhouse, there was always club business happening and angry men stomping around, so it was easier to stay quiet and out of the way than get into trouble.”
Wire hums a little before his brow furrows. I’ve noticed he does this a lot when he thinks. I’ve also noticed that hisperfect dark brows look as if they’ve been lovingly manicured, which is completely unfair given that I have to pluck mine into submission or else sport a unibrow.
“How come your mom wanted you to be invisible?”
I blow out a breath “When I was little my mom would have a lot of …. friends come to visit. As soon as I was old enough to understand, Sunny told me that Dad found out Mom was working as a hooker. He took me away as soon as he arranged a cage and a car seat.” I look down at my hands and examine my short, purple fingernails. I may not be the flashiest or the prettiest of women, but I do love painting my nails.
Wire is eerily quiet and when I take a chance to peek over at him I notice his sharp jawline is tight and he’s gripping the steering wheel so hard his dark knuckles are almost white.
“So, she entertained her Johns in your home and you had to hide?” he grits out. The anger showing on his face should frighten me. However, something tells me he’s not mad at me, but at the situation.
“Yeah. My dad bought me a teepee tent thing. It was a Rug Rats one.” I smile at the memory. “I would hide in there and wait for her friends to leave. It was my special fortress.” Unfortunately, when my dad took me away that day, he forgot to pack it up and bring it with us.
“How old were you?”
“Four.”
“And how long had you been hiding in your little tent for?”
“For as long as I could remember,” I whisper back at him.
His brow furrows again. I can see something working behind his eyes. Whether he’s trying to tamp down his anger or trying to find the right words, I’m not sure. He opens his mouth before closing it, then blowing out a breath.
“You don’t have to hide anymore. I liked the Remy I saw at the library. If you want to be that Remy at the clubhouse, then be that Remy. No more hiding, OK?”
“OK.”
Chapter Four
Beretta_Penn: Girls suck.
St_Margarita: Ah yeah, why do you think I like them?
Beretta_Penn: You’re a pig.
St_Margarita: Yeah, and you still talk to me. So, how was prom?
Beretta_Penn: Awful. The girls laughed and pointed at my dress.
St_Margarita: Those fuckers! What did your date do?
Beretta_Penn: Nothing. Just told me to ignore them. Tried to get me drunk.
St_Margarita: He didn’t try anything did he?