Chapter 254: Soup
*Mom insisted that we all learned to cook. She didn’t like my plan of never moving out. – Bear*
They rode in silence for a few minutes and Chance wondered if the heater would ever kick on. As far as he was concerned, if you were going to be trapped in a cage it should be for one of two reasons. You made one hell of a bad decision at the zoo. Or for the heater in a car.
“Where are we going?” Rye asked as Chance turned down a road with condominiums on either side.
“My mom’s place. You need to eat and calm down before we go see Michael.” He pulled into the driveway and parked. “Come on, duchess.”
When she didn’t follow him, he walked around and opened her door. Leaning down with one arm propped on the door and the other on the roof, he smiled at her.
“It’s too damned cold to stay out here, duchess.” He said gently. “Let’s get something to eat and then we’ll go to the hospital.”
Rye nodded and slowly got out of the car. He led the way up to the front door where he unlocked it and flipped on the interior lights. As he closed the door, he heard a sound that hit him deeper than it should. Rye’s teeth were chattering together and with the wind and engine sounds no longer covering it, the sound was extremely loud.
“Are you cold?” Chance asked and immediately thought that it was a stupid question.
“Come here, duchess.” He placed an arm around her waist and guided her to the corner fireplace. Rye sat in the chair that he pointed at while he added a few pieces of wood and a stack of kindling to the half-burned logs in the fireplace.
Picking up a wax covered pinecone, he sniffed it and put it back before trying another. The third one passed with approval, and he placed it on top of the kindling. reaching up for the long lighter, he saw her confused face.
“Mom’s neighbor made fire starters as a fundraiser for his Eagle Scout project. I like cinnamon; mom likes hidden forest or whatever it’s called. Smells like you’re burning a pine forest of those ugly Christmas trees that you hang on your car mirror.”
Rye gave him a small smile as the fire roared to life. As the kindling and then the logs caught, he added two more on top.
“Don’t judge me on my fire building skills.” Chance begged. “It’s ugly, but effective.”
“I can’t build one.” Rye admitted.
“I’ll teach you.” He offered. “You like tomato soup?” she nodded as he stood up. “Me too. I’m going to go cook us something to eat, you stay here and warm up.”
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting around the island with canned creamy tomato soup and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. The open shelves of the kitchen with the brightly colored ceramic place settings and colorful glassware made the room cheery.
It was the kind of place that Rye lived in before her dad died. It looked bright, cheery and homey. Unlike her own home in later yhears, this one seemed to be what it appeared and not just a glossy topcoat.
“Did you grow up here?” She asked quietly.
“No. My mom moved here after my dad died.” Chance dipped his sandwich in the soup. “Family has property out in the country. Mom always wanted to live in town. Had Werewolf in high school so she stayed with granddad. My uncle, Deuce, served with my dad. Came here on leave, met and married mom.”
Chance stood up brushing crumbs off his shirt and beard. He grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge. Sitting back down, he opened one and sat the other in front of Rye.
“There’s Werewolf, Bear, Sticks, Mia and me. Of course, we were raised in the club. We also have the cousins. Mia was basically banned from the club after grandma died from breast cancer. Then our dad caught some of the brothers with pictures of her when she was in high school. She was banned from the Shack after that. After Grandy died, Pop’s clubhouse lost its mother and became a little wild.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Being a teenage boy, I took full advantage of the wild clubhouses. I would tell the club girls, just take a chance. I got Chance as my road name.”
“What about you?” he asked as he began to clean up their mess.
“I barely remember Germany, other than it was cold. I was born in Italy. Dad was stationed on an Air Force base. We spent four years in Okinawa. We were in North Carolina when he died. We pretty well stayed in the south after that. Moved in with cousins in Florida for a while. When mom died, Leigh Anne was twenty-one, I was seventeen. I thought that she would at least try to get custody of me.”
“She didn’t?” Chance asked as he started the dishwasher. He walked over and closed the flue of the fireplace and then choking off the fire.
Rye shook her head no as she pulled on her old thin jacket. Chance picked up the Wolf Pack Security Company jacket and handed it to her. “He’ll keep giving it to you until you take it.”
She let him help her put it on and then they headed for the car. Chance knew that she was glossing over her childhood. It would take time. Carly, the therapist he now saw with the veterans’ group, told him to go slow. Let her set the pace.
“How did you end up at, umm, Dahlonega, is that right?” he asked, carefully sounding out the strange name as he was driving towards the hospital.
“Yeah. I got a scholarship for UNG. University of Northern Georgia. Covered everything except supplies, room and board. I was a war orphan, so charities offered to pay quite a bit. I just don’t like being in debt.”
She got quiet for a moment.
“After Anthony, mom’s cousin in Florida, mom moved us out to Mobile. If she couldn’t make rent, she paid her debt with her body. You ever wonder what your virginity is worth?”
She swallowed hard. “Six months’ rent. That’s what she was going to get for mine.”
“Was?”
“It was one of the last times that Leigh Anne saved me. After that, I was trying to save her. There were four or five of them. They took turns with her. I never saw her sober again after that.”
“How old were you?” he asked softly.
“I was fourteen, she was still seventeen.”
Chance cursed under his breath as he pulled into a parking spot. “That’s why you don’t like being touched.”
She nodded. “The next night, when mom was stoned, her boyfriend and his friends took turns with Leigh Anne.” She spoke softly and he could hear her pain and shame in voice. She looked down at her fingers that were nervously plucking at her jeans.
“They tied me to a chair and one of the men held my head, making me watch.” She took a deep breath. “There were other incidents, times when I barely got away, but that’s what I see in my head whenever a man touches me.”
“I’m so sorry, Rye.” He whispered and wanted to pull her to him and hold her close. It was the last thing that she needed, but what he needed the most.
“And thank you.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “For what?”
“Trusting me enough to tell me. And for telling me what I needed to hear. You were right, I never thought about the women that I took to bed. Thank you. I’m trying to become a better person.”
“Why?”
“I saw what you saw when you looked at me. I didn’t like it.” He admitted softly.
“You’re not as bad as I first thought.”
‘No, I was. But I’m getting better.”
