Finally shutting off the water, I step out of the shower and dry off. It doesn’t take me long to get ready these days. Not like it used to when I styled my hair to perfection, coated my face with makeup, and donned fine jewelry to call attention to my wealth and station in life. Now, I simply let my hair air dry because, of course, none of the bikers here would ever dream of owning a blow dryer, let alone a curling iron. And I have no makeup. Something I’ve found surprisingly acceptable.
Over the last few months, I’ve taken on a much more natural look, one with a bit of an edge, as I’ve combined my sparse wardrobe from before the ritual-gone-wrong with the more locally accepted biker chick clothes Starla has insisted on lending me. I’ve come to find I like the new look quite a bit, actually. It still shows off my assets, but with a cheekier, more rebellious streak, which matches my personality now that I’m not the prim princess anymore. I’m just a pissed-off redhead ready to start some shit with the girl I’ve quickly come to consider my archnemesis.
A soft knock comes at my door as I throw on my leather jacket, ready to head to the clubhouse for a bite to eat. The light tap shocks me. Gabriel never knocks. He just walks in. And aside from the one time Mark came looking for him in here—a time early in our relationship together, when Gabe hadn’t yet fucked me but was in the immediate process of working his way there when the knock came—no one ever bothers us in this small space we can call our own.
“Yes?” I ask, unsure of how I’m going to handle it if it’s one of Gabe’s friends. I’m not entirely sure where everything stands with the guys from the club now that Gabe let them fuck me, and I don’t really want to test those boundaries without him here to protect me.
“Winter? It’s Starla,” comes the muffled voice through the door.
“Oh!” I say, pleasantly surprised, as I pull on my shoes. “Door’s open!”
She lets it swing wide, revealing her slim figure, long dark hair, and kind smile, before cocking her hip against the doorframe, not quite entering our personal space. “You’re getting a late start,” she observes, her hazel eyes glinting. “What are your plans for today?”
“Oh, um…” I know I can’t tell her I’m going to the clinic. I can’t even tell her something innocuous like I’m going into town because Gabriel has expressly forbidden it, in front of her–forbade her from letting me actually. Seeing as Athena hates me as much as I hate her, it’s too dangerous, at least in Gabe’s mind. I struggle to come up with a good alibi, but nothing comes to mind, and my mouth hangs slightly open as I remain speechless.
“Nothing then? Good. It snowed last night, so the girls and I are taking the kids out for a snow day. Come on. They’re meeting us out front.” Starla waves her hand, beckoning me from the room as she turns to leave.
“But,” I hesitate, “I don’t have any snow gear,” I object, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse to stay behind.
“I have stuff you can borrow. It might be a bit on the smaller side since it’s my old snow gear, but you’re tiny. I’m sure you’ll fit.” When Starla turns to see I’m still hesitating, sitting on the bed, where I was just tying my shoes, she sighs and enters my room, gripping my wrist and pulling me to my feet. “Come on. It’ll befun,” she insists.
Chuckling at her childlike enthusiasm, I let her drag me from the room. I don’t see any way of getting out of this, so I might as well enjoy it.
It’s a perfect winter day outside. The ground is coated with a thick white layer of fluffy snow. The air is crisp, revealing our warm breaths in puffs. But the sun is still burning through the grey clouds above, casting an ethereal light onto the fresh powder and making it glitter. For a moment, all I can do is take in the wonder before me. The trees on the far side of the road are all decked out in white as the snow clings to their branches. A still calmness seems to have fallen along with the white blanket, leaving the world feeling nearly empty in a peaceful way.
Starla breaks the silence as she yanks open the back door to her little blue Honda and folds over to look inside. “Here you go,” she says a moment later, pulling out some gloves, a warm knit beanie, and a thick matching scarf.
I accept them gratefully and pull them on. As Starla closes her back door, a little white jalopy pulls up behind her and comes to a stop.
“You ready for a snow day?” Max demands as she manually rolls down her window. Her sister, Jada, smiles from the passenger seat.
“Yeah! Snow day!” choruses from the back seat, and I peer into the car to see three sets of tiny eyes peering out from under thick woolen caps. I recognize the children from the Christmas party, one of whom is Max’s two-year-old son. I believe his name is Nicky.
“I’ll follow you,” Starla says.
She and I hop into her little blue car, and it’s only then that I realize she has two children of her own strapped into the back seat.
“Hello,” I say, turning to look at the little bundled-up masses buckled in behind me as she puts her car in gear and pulls to the side to let Max pass her.
“Hi,” the little girl in the seat behind the driver’s side says shyly. She’s so tiny, her feet don’t quite reach the floor yet, but I would place her around four or five if I had to guess.
Glancing behind my own seat, I smile at the little boy there. His big grey eyes study me silently, but he doesn’t say a word. That’s fine by me. Offering him a little wave and a smile, I turn around and face the front as we pull out onto the winding New England road heading out of town.
“Where to?” I ask.
“Just one of the parks nearby. We’re hunting for some good snowman material. Right, Stephanie?” Starla glances in her rearview mirror at the girl sitting behind her, and I look back in time to see her nod shyly, a smile spreading across her lips. “Stephanie’s my niece. She and her parents are visiting Daddy and me through the new year. They’re staying at our place, so I’m getting lots of quality time with my favorite niece.”
“I’m your only niece,” Stephanie pipes up with a giggle.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re my favorite,” Starla says, glancing pointedly into her mirror once more.
“And who’s this fella?” I ask, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder.
“That’s Parker.” Starla’s smile turns sad. “He’s Tiffany’s little boy. We thought it might be fun to get everyone out for a play date, right, bud?” She glances over her right shoulder to gauge his response, but I don’t hear a peep.
“Tiffany…?” I consider the name. I’m not sure I know her.
“Yeah, um, Mac’s widow. You know… she just lost her husband…?” Starla gives me a sidelong glance.