Hammer

17 - I love you, Mom

Willow

Being with Hammer has been good so far. Okay, it’s only been a few days, but I know we will have a fantastic life together. I don’t doubt it for one second.

Mom and I are having a talk. It’s hard at first; I feel like she’s disappointed in me. It hurts because my mother is the last person in the world I would ever want to hurt. My mother is my world; she gave up everything for me. Her childhood, her education, her family.

That’s not strictly true. Mom told me that she was fifteen when her parents threw her out. She was already pregnant with me and went to live with my birth father. I often wonder why his family never said anything about the fact he got a child pregnant and why the hell my mother’s parents never had him prosecuted instead of throwing her away like she was nothing to them.

When I finally asked Mom why, she just smiled and told me some people are like that. They don’t mind the taboo of it all.

That just made me sick.

What kind of people would allow something like that?

She was fifteen! A child! He was a grown man who should have known better.

I don’t care that she willingly slept with him; he obviously twisted her mind to make her think it was okay for them to be together. She should have been protected. Her parents should have done something to get her away from that man before she ended up pregnant, her life ruined.

It doesn’t matter how many times over the years Mom told me how she wanted me, that she has never once regretted having me, that she could have gone back to school if that’s really what she wanted. I have to wonder if all of this was truly enough for her.

Mom has never acted as if it isn’t, and she’s definitely never said it isn’t. She always has a smile on her face, and she’s always there for all of us whenever we need her. But I know the hell my poor mother faced as a young girl with a child of her own. That pig she was with treated her like hell the whole time they were together.

Mom never wanted to tell me what kind of man he really was, the man who beat and abused her. But she was very drunk one night after the summer hog roast at the club three years ago.

Dad was drinking with the boys, and my brother was telling crazy stories that made everyone roar with laughter. My sister hadn’t come home then, but Dad was laughing with them all.

I told Dad I’d help Mom to bed. She was so drunk. Only because I told her to let her hair down and I would take care of the kids for her. She was laughing and having fun, but as soon as I helped her to her room and sat down on her bed, she burst out crying. I couldn’t calm her down.

I wanted to get my dad because he’s the only one who can calm Mom when she’s upset like that. But she wouldn’t let me; she only wanted me with her.

I wrapped her up in my arms and held her until her tears stopped. That’s when Mom told me about my birth father. How he hurt her all the time, how she would shelter me from his outbursts.

That hurt me so much. Mom was just sixteen years old when I was born. She tried so hard to give me the family I deserved. Two years she stayed with that man, two years of humiliation before she finally left him. Or he left her, rather.

I thought Mom had fallen asleep because she was quiet for long minutes. I was about to lie her down when she mumbled how that man kidnapped her over seven years ago now. My high school graduation. While I’d gone off to party with my friends, my parents and siblings went to BlackJack’s for a barbecue. It was there that vile man kidnapped her in front of a then four-year-old Max.

I urged Mom to tell me what happened, even though I was scared she’d tell me something that would break me. She told me that he tried to rape her, but she fought him off. She ran; he chased her, caught her, beat her. But he didn’t bank on her, fighting back and stabbing him with a tree stump.

My heart pounded as Mom explained all of this. I didn’t think I could take all the information in.

I remember that day. I came home to find a prospect waiting for me to escort me to Taylor’s. There, she told me a random guy had dragged my mom into his car and took off with her. I was terrified, but Mom was home just a couple hours later. She seemed perfectly fine the next day and told me never to worry about her; she’s strong and will always find her way back to us.

But as Mom told me how she ran away from my birth father, that he was alive when she left him there, I realized she was hiding so much about that day inside of her. She told me that by the time she was reunited with Shepard, she was sure that man had died from his injuries.

I held her close as she begged me not to hate her.

How could I hate her?

That man was trying to hurt her again.

I told Mom how much I loved her and could never hate her because she’s my world.

Then she begged me not to hate Shepard. That he only did what he did to protect my mom and me. I knew, at that moment, it was Shepard who killed my birth father, not my mom. Shepard killed that man for hurting the woman he loves more than life itself, the woman he cannot live without.

I should have been scared and angry, but I wasn’t. It should’ve hurt that I never got to know my birth father, but the way I saw it, I had a lucky escape. My parents did everything in their power to protect me from a violent bully who never loved me.

I had never wanted to meet him. Never missed him because I didn’t even know him. He didn’t want me when I was a child and never loved me enough to keep in touch. He was violent toward my mother and would have been toward me if she hadn’t protected me from him.

Why the hell would I want to meet a man like that?

My point is that my mother is everything to me, and disappointing her is not an option.

“You know, I used to wonder if this would happen.”

I turn my head and smile at my mother. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She parrots back with a smile.

She’s been helping me unpack my small suitcase of clothes, which I had Hammer pick up for me earlier. I have clothes here, we all do. We can’t always grab things from home before we're forced to come here. But I need a few other things, like my favorite PJs. I could do without them, but I like my comfort when vegging out.

Mom was amused that I brought Hammer’s thing into my room the other day. I’d taken them from his old room and laundered them before putting them away in my room.

We’ve always had our own rooms here. Hammer used to share with Tank when they were younger, but then Nova came home, and she and Tank were given one of the bigger rooms because they wanted to be together with Ember.

There are a hell of a lot of rooms in this huge mansion. Mom and Dad have the largest room. Each brother with an Old Lady gets his own room, and those without share, so do the kids.

Prospects have the rooms in the basement. Not that it’s cold or damp down there; it’s comfortable, like every other room in this house. However, the levels of this house are given out in order of ranking within the club.

Hammer shared a room with Cindy for the only time she came here, but I don’t think him sleeping there while we’re together is a good idea. I don’t want his mind overtaken with thoughts of Cindy while we’re here. I know he wouldn’t mean to, but I don’t want to take any chances. Plus, the room has been decorated, and the furniture changed since she died. But that doesn’t mean Hammer won’t be thinking about her should he go in there.

No, I’m not jealous of Hammer thinking about Cindy. But we’re together now. And if we are to make this new relationship really work, I don’t want his mind to be on a woman who is no longer here.

I love you, Cindy, and I know you’ll understand why I’m saying this.

Oddly, this has always been my room, but I never shared it with Trace. Of course, until he became a prospect with the club, he was never allowed to stay here; he wasn’t part of the club, even if he was my boyfriend. As soon as he became a prospect, we slept in a small room down the hall on the level below. Never this room. I don’t know why. But I guess the only man I ever saw sharing my room was Hammer.

God, I was pathetic.

I like my room here, it’s big and comfortable. I have a giant king bed, big enough for Hammer to sleep comfortably without his long legs hanging off the edge, sitting against the wall in the middle of the room. A large dresser opposite that holds some framed pictures of my family and friends, makeup, and perfume. The usual things a girl has. I have a floor-length oak mirror next to the large window covered in cream muslin and a walk-in closet filled with clothes. I also have a white en-suite bathroom.

My room here is better than my room at home.

“You had a massive crush on Hammer when you were a little girl.”

“Mom,” I grumble.

Mom and I talked about my crush on Hammer when I was thirteen. She told me how it wasn’t wrong to like him, but that I mustn’t let it go to my head. Hammer was twenty-one then, and it would have been wrong to make it known how I felt.

Not that Hammer would have looked twice at me back then; I was a little girl. But I listened to my mommy and kept my feelings to myself. I told her a little while later that I was over my silly crush.

I have never been over it. I will never be over it because it was never just a crush. I have always loved him.

“I always knew you were lying to me, you know?” I groan inwardly. “I’m proud of you, Willow.”

“You are?”

Mom smiles while stroking my back the way only a mother could. “You have always made me proud, Willow. Since the day you were born, you have continually shown me that you are the best part of me.”

I blink back tears.

I have five siblings. Two might be stepsiblings, but my mother has never treated them as such; she loves us all the same.

But with me, there is a different kind of bond. She’s my mother, my best friend. We can tell each other anything, and we’ll always be there for one another.

When I woke up after what happened to me, she was right there by my side, holding my hand and thanking God for not taking me from her. She was with me all through my recovery, and nothing was too much for her. It never has been.

“After everything that happened to you, everything you’ve lost, both of you,” She strokes the back of my head. “You deserve to be happy, baby girl.”

I turn and wrap my arms around her neck. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“I just want you happy and safe, Willow.”

I pull away from her gently with a smile on my face. My mother is a beautiful woman with beautiful green eyes, and I am proud to look like her. Even if my eye color is different and my skin tone is slightly darker.

“I am happy and safe, Mommy. Hammer would never let anything happen to me. He saved my life, Mom. He didn’t let go even when I told him to.”

“And I will always love him for that, Willow. I am happy for you, baby girl, I really am.”

I have my mother’s blessing, and that means everything to me.

“Do you think Daddy will be angry about this?”

“He won’t be happy, but you leave your father to me.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you more.”