Nina Levine - Storm

The only thing that gave me a buzz anymore was sex, and even that was starting to lose its magic.

Madison

Fifteen minutes later I was on my way home when my phone rang.  Retrieving it from my bag, I checked the caller ID.  Private number.  No way, buddy.  I ignored it and threw it back in my bag.  However, the asshole was persistent and rang again.  I ignored it again but after three more rounds of this I was pissed off.

I stabbed at the phone to answer it and snapped, “This had better be good.”

“Madison, it’s Griff.  Got some news for you that you’re not gonna like very much.”

Fuck.  Griff was a member of Storm, the motorcycle club that my Dad was President of, and my brother, Scott, was Vice President of.  I grew up in the club; it was my family.  I’d gotten my hands dirty for the club but two years ago I walked away from that life.  Storm was based in Brisbane and I had moved to Coffs Harbour to put distance between us.  Now I spent my time working an honest job and tried to keep my nose out of club business.  My family had supported my move two years ago, but now they wanted me to come home.  Scott often called and visited, trying to convince me, but I never caved.  When I had left, I had been a broken mess, and I was still trying to put myself back together.  Going home would be going backwards as far as I was concerned.

I sighed.  “What’s up, Griff?”

“Scott wants you back here.  There’s some shit going down with Black Deeds and he doesn’t want you alone in case they retaliate by going after you.”

Black Deeds MC was a nasty club that Storm often had problems with so I couldn’t see that this would be any different.  “Griff, I’m fine, and you can tell Scott that I am not coming back.”

“It’s bad shit, babe.  Be best if you did come home.”

“The answer’s no.  Not happening,” I was getting impatient with this conversation.

There was a long pause while he took in what I had said.  He probably hated this part of the job.  Dealing with me.  I would.  “Right.  I’ll pass that on to Scott,” he replied, and then hung up.

I stared at the phone.  He gave in way too easily and it made me suspicious.  They had to have an agenda and I wondered what would be the next step if I said no.

Storm didn’t take no for an answer.  Ever.  And they didn’t tend to get involved in bad shit.  They barrelled through anything that got in their way.  They had a reputation for being a strong and ruthless club so there was only one question on my mind now.  What the fuck had they gotten themselves into that made them feel this threatened?

“Hey, honey, I’m home,” I yelled out as I came through the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen, chica,” came the reply, and I headed towards the voice.

The scene that greeted me in the kitchen stunned me.  My best friend and roommate, Serena, had filled the kitchen with muffins.  It was after midnight and there she was with about fifty muffins spread from one end of the kitchen to the other.  Her hair, face and clothes were covered in flour, and there were ingredients and cooking utensils everywhere.  My BFF was not a domestic goddess, that was for sure.

“What is all this cooking in aid of?” I asked, because it had to be for a reason.  Serena didn’t often bake.

“My mother,” she said simply.  And that said it all.  Serena’s mother was a domineering woman and when she said jump, you said how high.

“Ah, another one of her charity assignments?” I asked.  Her mother was always doing stuff for charities so I guessed this was just another one of those.  Usually she didn’t get Serena to bake though, because let’s face it, we all knew her skills in this department were somewhat lacking.

Serena nodded.  “Yep, and at the rate I am going, I doubt she will ever ask me to cook for her again.”

I laughed.  “Do you want some help, honey?”

She flashed me a huge grin.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

We spent the next hour tidying up and getting the muffins packed and ready to be delivered to her mother later that day.  At about two am I crawled into bed, exhausted after a long day, but sleep eluded me.  Thoughts of Storm and my life before I left assaulted me, and as much as I tried to avoid them, I just couldn’t.

I had been in a living hell for most of the year prior to leaving Brisbane.  Actually, to be honest, it had started before that.  It had started after Rob attacked me and that was nearly two years before I left.  Back when I was dating J, the guy who I had been sure was going to be my forever.

You see, J killing Rob after he attacked me had fucked my relationship up with J and we had never been able to get it back on track.  J blamed himself for the attack and I blamed myself for J killing him.

That night had started like any other for me.  I had gone to work at Hyde’s, the bar I had worked at for a couple of years.  Rob worked with me as a bartender and we had had a fun night with all the regulars.  However, after close, while I was waiting for J to pick me up, Rob had turned on me and tried to rape me in the car park outside the bar.  J had been late picking me up and arrived mid attack, just as Rob had pulled a knife on me and slashed my arm.  Five minutes later, Rob was dead after J shot him and so began our descent into hell.

J and I had been together for just over two years at that point.  We had been great friends for a lot longer than that.  He had joined Storm when he was nineteen.  I had been a seventeen year old schoolgirl at the time and fallen hard for him.  However, nothing but flirting happened between us for six years, and during that time we had built a strong friendship.  Our relationship as a couple had been fiery.  We couldn’t get enough of each other but at the same time we argued constantly.  Our main problem stemmed from the club.  J didn’t involve me in club business and this annoyed me.  I wanted to be a part of every aspect of J’s life and when he refused to talk about the club with me, I felt closed off from part of him.  That had led to many arguments.

In the end though, what tore us apart was our inability to deal with the fallout from Rob’s death.  After the attempted rape, J tried to wrap me in cotton wool.  He constantly monitored my whereabouts and tried to dictate where I could go and what I could do.  I was not a woman who could cope with that style of relationship.  On top of that, I had started drinking heavily.  Feeling responsible for Rob’s death and being unable to work through my feelings associated with that, I had resorted to shutting it all out by hitting the bar.  It had started out as a bit of fun but had quickly spiralled into an addiction that I couldn’t get under control.  J had lived with an alcoholic parent and had no tolerance for drinking to excess.  He had tried desperately to get me help but I had blocked all his attempts.  This had gone on for almost a year and the final nail in our coffin had been Jodie, a club whore who J had supposedly cheated on me with.  I had believed the rumours, or perhaps I had wanted to, simply to have an excuse to walk away from what our relationship had become.

The year after I left J had been the lowest point in my life.  My drinking had gotten worse, I had shut myself off from family and friends and I had hooked up with a violent and controlling biker from Storm’s rival club, Black Deeds.  Nix was the VP of Black Deeds and getting involved with him had angered my father, brother and J.  This had been a good reason for me to continue the relationship because at the time they were all pissing me off and it felt good to return the gesture.  A couple of months into the relationship, I discovered that J hadn’t cheated on me.  I was gutted that I had thrown our relationship away because of this, and went to him to apologise for not believing in him.  That had been a turning point for me because we rekindled our friendship and he tried to help me get my life back on track.  The problem was that Nix wasn’t about to give me up that easily.  Although we had only been together for a very short time, he was very committed to keeping us together.  He didn’t like my friendship with J and eventually realised that I was still in love with J.  The day he worked that out was the day he beat me almost to death.  And that was the day that had turned my life in a new direction and led me to where I was now.

I hadn’t spoken to J in over two years now.  I also hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in that time.  Moving away from Storm had saved my life.  The problem was, I felt dead on the inside.  I was a twenty-nine year old single woman just going through the motions of life.  Sure, I had a job, good friends, and a great social life.  On the outside, my life looked like fun.  But it wasn’t real.  And I didn’t know how to make it any better.

Madison

“Hello, my name is Madison, and I am an alcoholic.”

“Hello, Madison,” the group responded and I proceeded to share my story.  This group was my safe place and tonight I needed them in a way that I hadn’t for a very long time.  As I finished, I blew out my breath and let the group’s acceptance and support envelope me.  I felt it seep into my bones and glanced around the room, offering a small smile in thanks.  Someone else started sharing their story and I sat back and silently lent my support, as had been done for me.

When I first started coming here two years ago I absolutely hated it.  Although I knew I had to get my shit together, the last thing I wanted to do was give up drinking.  It was the shield I used to stop the grime of life from touching me.  When I drank I could just let it pass on by.  In the end, however, it sent me to a place I never wanted to go back to.  I may have fought this group and what it offered for awhile, but I had made myself a promise to clean up my act, and I had followed through on this.  Slowly, I realised that the support I found here was exactly what I needed.

I attended meetings weekly now.  Not so much because I still craved alcohol, because I didn’t.  No, it was more out of habit now and to make sure I never went there again.  As I looked around the room, I saw people at varying stages of their journey.  The ones I liked to focus on were the AA newbies.  They reminded me of how far I had come and the fact that I was so much stronger now.

Tonight, though, I was feeling a little bit vulnerable.  Thinking about Storm and J had stirred up old feelings of hurt and anger; feelings I had spent the last couple of years avoiding.  To get from where I was then to where I was now, I had had to lock away all thoughts of J.  I hadn’t allowed myself to think about him and that had worked for me.  It wasn’t working so well now.  And while I didn’t feel like a drink, I knew myself enough to know that I needed to be here, at the meeting tonight.

The meeting ended soon after and I headed straight out rather than staying for a coffee.  I stepped out into the warm January night and lit a cigarette as I walked home.  My mind was already onto my list of jobs for tonight.  Christ, I was supposed to call my brother over an hour ago.  I pulled my phone out and dialled him.  No answer.  Fuck.  He would be pissed at me.  I left a message and then sent a text to Serena, to let her know I was on my way home.

Me: On my way, what’s for dinner?

Serena: Fuck off.  You’re taking me out.

Me: Am I?  Make sure you wear that slutty dress for me.

Serena: Oh I’ll wear it babe but I’m not putting out.

God, how I loved this chick.  She was my sunshine at the end of a shitty day.  Even on days like today when I was exhausted, she managed to pick me up.  I would forever be thankful for the day she came into my life.  When I moved to Coffs Harbour I hadn’t expected to find a new family, but that’s just what I did find.  I had started a job in a clothing boutique and Serena was my workmate.  She and I had hit it off straight away; we shared the same sense of humour, and bonded over our love for slutty dresses, heels and inked men.  Serena introduced me to her inner circle of friends and I became fast friends with them as well.  Now the five of us were inseparable and they were always there for me.

My phone rang and I answered it with some attitude as I figured it was my brother calling back.  “Scott, what the fuck is so urgent that you felt the need to leave five shitty messages for me?”