“You don’t need to explain, Shadow. I get it.” My eyes start to sting. Holding back my emotions may be harder than I thought. I stare out the window trying to avoid eye contact.
Shadow scoffs, “I'm glad you understand what’s going on, because I ain’t gotta fucking clue.” His confession throws me for a loop. Is he just as confused about our chemistry as I am? Is there chemistry? Maybe I'm not just a one-night thing. I shake my head; I'm getting ahead of myself. These games are exhausting.
“So, why don’t you clue me in, seeing as how you've got it all figured out,” he says, his tone unreadable.
When I face him, his expression is sincere. He looks lost even.
“Dani, last night-“ Shadow is cut off from a knock at the door. Panicked, I start looking around the room; looking for somewhere to stuff him. I start pushing Shadow toward the closet in a desperate attempt to conceal him.
“Are you fucking serious?” he whispers, when he realizes I am shoving him into the closet.
“Yes, I’m serious,” I whisper back. “What if it’s my mom or dad? Go, and be quiet.”
I shut the closet door and notice the condom on the floor next to the trash can. Shit. I grab it and throw it in the bathroom trash; I grab some toilet paper and throw it on top to hide it. I run back and open the door my mother is pounding at, trying not to seem panicked.
“Are we over our temper tantrum“? My mother asks, walking in. She looks like shit. She's pale and still wearing the same clothes from last night.
“Mom, I –“ she cuts me off, pointing at my shirt.
“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Wearing?” she snaps, her eyes as wide as saucers.
I look down at the shirt I’m wearing. “I found it in the closet. It looked comfy,” I profess.
She walks over to me and tugs at the top, trying to take it off me. “No. No daughter of mine will wear this shit,” she says, frantically.
“Stop it,” I yell at her, but she keeps grabbing at me. “Get off me!” I can feel my face turning red; my body temperature rising; my vision blurring with rage. Finally having enough of her scratching my arms and neck to get at the black shirt, I snap.
“Back off, damn it!” I push her violently, her body flying to the floor like dirty laundry. I jump back; startled by my lack of self-control and anger. Where did it come from? I have pushed my mother before, yelled even, but never have I practically tossed her like a rag doll.
She is trembling as she stands. “What’s gotten into you, Dani? First you are riding around with... with that biker trash; then, wearing that God awful shirt like you're a club member; and now you're violent to your own mother.” She is hysterical now. “This is wrong. I raised you better than this. I gave you a better life than this; hell, I gave you life.” Other than trembling, she isn't moving a muscle.
“It’s a fucking t-shirt,” I shout at her as she eyes it with a deadly stare.
“No, No, it’s more than a fucking t-shirt. You are becoming one of them; biker trash. You're becoming your… your father.” She went from being loud and hysterical to whispering those last few words. I may have barely heard the words, but even her whisper was dripping with hatred.
“Yeah, well, I never asked for your lies and betrayal,” I snap back at her in self-defense.
“You know, I had a premonition when I realized you shared your father's green eyes. I loved those eyes until he tossed me aside. I knew I had to hide him from you; keep you on the right path, or you would turn out just like him.” She's avoiding eye contact which always raises my suspicion.
“What’s so wrong with being like him?” I ask.
“Really?” she says, snidely. “You have been here but a minute. You have no idea what he is capable of, any of them. They lie, cheat, murder, rob. They are unstoppable. You stand in their way, they will kill you.”
She points at me. ”That boy you are hanging around... keep your distance. He just wants in your pants; you being the president’s daughter won’t stop him. I got an earful of the kind of man he is. He is a womanizer and he’s messed up in the head,” she bluntly spits at me.
Now I can’t look her in the eyes. I'm afraid she might see I'm not as pure as I was when we arrived here.
“Everyone has a few skeletons in their closet,” I justify. Looking at my closet right now, I can relate.
“If I hear of that boy trying to push himself on you, I will get your father involved. Messing with the president’s daughter does not go without repercussions.”
Gee, I wonder if she said those same lines to all the boyfriends I had growing up, that would explain them suddenly dumping me.
“Why did we come here if you hate my father so much; if you hate everything about this place,” I calmly point out.
She sighs wearily. ”I had no choice. It’s what had to be done,” she whispers, her head hung low.