Dawn Robertson - Finding Willow

Only one person has ever hurt me like this. Him.

The bathroom is mere feet away, and I make quick work of washing the leftover makeup off my face before heading back to the bedroom for my purse and shoes. Katy clearly isn’t here, and I don’t have time to wait. I need to make it to Seven. I need to explain everything to her. I’m sick of running from the past, and if I am truly going to become free, there is something monumental I need to get off my chest.

Today, I finally reclaim my life.

It’s lunchtime. Seven is probably off on some fancy business lunch, while I sit here in the waiting room of her office. It’s cold and distant, your typical office space: fluorescent lighting, cubical galore, and a number of bad fucking pant suits. There is not one personal touch.

“Is Miss James expecting you?”

Her receptionist looks at me with disgust. I nod, answering her question. Seven may not really be expecting me, but whatever. She’s judging me. Hell, I would be judging myself, too. After washing my face, I hailed a cab and headed straight for her office. Traffic was unusually busy. I should have stopped at my apartment for a change of clothes. I should do a lot of things, but my impulses control my rational thinking most of the time. Bad judgment won out, and I sit in her multi-billion dollar corporate office looking like last night’s hooker. Story of my life.

“Miss James will see you, Miss Bloom.”

“Thank you” is all I can mutter while I work to choke back the Hollywood tears hiding behind the remnants of makeup.

I stand on shaky legs, and walk through her office door. I’ve never come to her work; I never had a reason to. The office is incredibly spacious for Manhattan. The far wall is made of solid glass, looking over the river from the ninety-fifth floor. The furniture is mostly white, although several girly colors accent the clean design. Pinks and a bit of blues. All professionally done with the utmost elegance. If anyone could get away with making hot pink look like it belongs in an executive suite, it’s fucking Seven James.

She sits behind the desk, her long brown hair flowing down around her shoulders. There are dark circles under her eyes. Seven clearly slept as little as I did. I expect her to be pissed, to yell and shout like she normally would. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially me.

Her eyes soften, though, as they pass over my body. I shrug my coat off and place it on the chair next to me, as I take a seat in the other plush office chair.

“Who did this to you, Star?” She’s upset. With me?

The tears slowly start to flow, and eventually turn into full blown sobbing hysterics. I choke out her brother’s name in between gasps for air. I try and control myself, but it’s too late. The flood gates are open, and I must tell her before I chicken out again.

“Seven, I didn’t want to. I never wanted to. But he threatened to tell everyone what I did. He has held it over my head for years.”

I start to tell her. This is my first step to being free of Blue. All the threats of telling Seven our secret are gone. I will not allow him to have the upper hand anymore.

Confusion is written all over her face, but she sits quietly and listens to every word I purge from my soul.

My entire body heaves as I still struggle to catch my breath.

“Seven, I had a baby. Blue’s baby. The year you left for college.” She’d left me behind with Blue, my sisters, and our parents. I wanted to leave with her, but she would have never had a fair shot at a real education if her wayward twin tagged along. I needed to let her go so she could become who she needed to be. And by God, if she fucking did.

I was pregnant when she left, and I sobbed like a baby as her little Honda Civic pulled out of the campground we were living in at the time. I will never forget the colder than usual spring day as she drove away, or the way I felt that night when I told my mother in confidence. I naively believed she would stand by my side. However, you would have thought I was a criminal the way she turned on me.

Seven rounds her desk and sits down in the chair next to me, spinning the chair until she faces me. Tears slowly pool at the edge of her eyes, encouraging my own hysterics. This woman never cries. Everything about her is the fucking epitome of tough as nails, and here she is, crumbling right alongside me.

But I can feel it. A weight has been lifted. The burden of this secret has weighed me down for far too long. The only person I continued to hide it from knows. She takes my hands and comforts me.

“I’m so sorry, Seven. I never meant to hurt you.” I take a deep breath. “I wish things were different. I just can’t lie about it any longer. You deserve to know, and I shouldn’t have kept this hidden this long.”

I want to drop to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. But she doesn’t let me. Instead she comforts me. This is how our relationship has always been, and will always be. She is the protector. I am the victim. She is strong. I am weak. She is fucking bad ass. I am an epic coward.

“It’s okay, Star. He won’t hurt you again. I will make sure of that. I’m going to have Clyde take you to my penthouse until I get home. You are also going to fill out a police report detailing exactly what he did to you.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want the police involved, mostly because I don’t remember large chunks of the previous night. I don’t want to remember, either. But I listen, and I do everything Seven tells me to. I would walk right off a fucking bridge if she told me to, because I know deep in my heart, she would never steer me in the wrong direction. No matter how badly I fuck up. No matter how much I fuck her over. No matter what way I wrong her. She always forgives me.

I just nod and gather my things, then turn for the door. Her voice stops me once more.

“And Star?”

I turn back, and a small smile starts to pull at the corner of my mouth. I want to be happy, and this was my first step.

“Where’s the baby?”

The smile instantly fades. I wish I knew where she was. I wish I could answer her question. I wish I never gave up my Willow. I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, before it spills down my cheek.

“I don’t know, Seven. After she was born, my parents took her to a commune upstate, and I never saw her again. Christmas Day, she’ll be eleven.”

I turn and walk out the door before I start crying again. It hurts to think about Willow. It hurts to believe I was one of those women who just gave away her baby. I’ve kicked myself in the ass enough over the years.

When my parents took her from me, I wasn’t ready to let her go. I didn’t have a choice, though. Years have passed, but not a day has gone by that I don’t want for her. If I am going to finally get my life right, I need to know she is happy, safe. Everything I never was when I was a little girl. I need to know she can have a good life. That the choice my parents made for me was truly the right one.

My journey to freedom will bring me right back to my little girl. Come hell or high water, I will find Willow. Or I will die trying.

Clyde, Seven’s driver, lets me stop at my place for my overnight bag. I pack as much as I can into the black Playboy duffle bag. I don’t expect to be back at my apartment anytime soon.

I grab a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, all appropriate clothing normal people would wear. Nothing sparkly or fancy, nothing that screams porn star. Okay, maybe I put a couple pieces of glittery clothes in my bag, only because I can’t bear to part with them. If glitter was a fucking blood type, it would be mine.