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“Why not?” she asks, leaning down again to try to resume the kiss.
“Because…”
She changes course, finding my earlobe instead. Her teeth scrape over it, sending shivers through me. I grip her tighter.
“Because you…you were…hurt,” I finally get out as she continues to tease me with her torturous movements on my lap.
All I can think about is the moment with her body writhing under me in my dorm room, and I’m about to give in when the door opens, flooding the room with light.
“Moving on already, darling?” an amused female voice speaks from the threshold.
The change in Harley is instant, her body turning to ice. She doesn’t move off of me or turn around.
“Hello, Ma.”
35
Harley
Adam’s eyes widen a fraction as he looks behind me at the door. He’s never one to dismiss or treat anyone without kindness and respect. He looks back into my eyes, his hands having strayed respectfully to my waist.
He watches me closely as he eases me off of his lap onto the side of the bed. Victoria has stepped farther into the room, laying her black Hermès handbag on the bench to the side. She's dressed to perfection in slimming leather pants and a flared red wraparound top.
I see she’s adopted yet a new look, a persona that I’m sure won’t last more than a year when she reinvents her image. She looks like one of those ridiculous women who can’t accept her age gracefully, always fighting for the youth that has already spoiled.
Her face is fuller than the last time I saw her, but it’s not from weight gain, as her legs are as pencil thin as ever. The taut skin on her forehead shines in the light she flicked on when she barged into the room.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is cold.
Adam has slowly risen from the bed, approaching my foster mother. She looks him over, raising her eyebrows as much as she can.
“I can’t come see my daughter in the hospital? Well, well, well,” she coos, stretching out a hand, palm down, like she’s some kind of royalty, “who might this handsome devil be? You’re like…the star of a country music video, if it was porn.” She laughs at her own joke as Adam shakes her hand slowly.
“My name is Adam,” he says, but I notice he doesn’t tack on the usual it’s nice to meet you bit. His back is tense.
“Adam, I’m very pleased to be meeting you. How long have you been screwing my daughter?” she quips.
I rush to speak before he has time to respond. “What’s up? Why are you really here?” I purposefully insert annoyance into my tone.
Adam has turned back to me, his face hard.
Victoria’s hands go on her narrow hips, her face morphing into one that is far more familiar to me—cruel. “Well, you’ve gone and had Seven thrown back into jail, I hear. Lenny is throwing an absolute fit, demanding his share of the profits from the photo shoot that hasn’t happened yet.” She matches my tone now, dropping the act of feigning any concern at all for my well-being.
“Well, it can’t happen, seeing as the tattoo was never finished,” I snap. My patience with her long run out. “And Lenny can go have himself poked with needles until he passes out for all I care. So can you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, turning my head out the window. Adam is standing by the bed, his hand reaching out to hold mine on the sheets. I grip it until my knuckles go white.
Then, it happens—she morphs once again. She slowly approaches the bed, and I feel Adam gripping my hand tighter. My fight-or-flight instincts ignite, but I force myself to be still.
“Oh, darling, I’m really only worried about you here. You signed a contract. Lenny is demanding his cut. He could sue you. My share as your guardian is really irrelevant. I’m just concerned for your future.”
She dares to reach out a hand to awkwardly pat my arm, but I shrink away from her toward Adam.
This is how she does it. Any possible way to scare or manipulate me into complying is fair game. She once threatened to send my four-year-old foster brother back to his abusive family, and I was young enough to believe she could do it. I lived in the shadow of fear from her manipulation for so long. I couldn’t see it until I was out. It’s like a veil has been lifted from my eyes.
I turn toward her, my jaw set. “I’ve hired a lawyer. Adam has money, plenty of it. His family owns a huge farm in Texas. Lenny can try whatever he wants, but I’m not a scared little girl anymore. I’m not your whore, getting nearly naked to pose and expose my body to the world. You can go to fucking hell.” I nearly spit the last words at her face, and she jolts back.
I’ve never spoken to her that way. After the first time I tried to push back at her insistence for a photo shoot in lingerie when I was fifteen, she starved me for three days. It was during the summer, so I didn’t even get a school lunch.
