Page 31 of Stag

She tapped me again as I tried to watch the characters and subtitles at the same time. This is why I watch movies many times. I have to see it multiple times to see what’s happening as well as know what’s being said. People don’t get that. Subtitles need our attention, and then we miss the subtle points of the actual movie itself.

*I feel like you’re mad at me, and I just want to keep you safe. You’re my sister, my twin, my other half. I just want what’s best for you.*

I sighed, grabbing the remote to pause the movie, before I turned back to her.

*I have to make my own way, and my own decisions. You trying to control every element of my life isn’t love or protection. It’s possession. It’s you trying to live my life for me, so I don’t get it wrong, but your version of wrong isn’t the same as mine. I should be fully independent, but you want me relying on you. It’s…* I paused, my hands dropping as I opened my mouth. “It’s weird. It’s creepy. I just want you to be my sister again.”

“This IS me being your fucking sister!” I know she yelled it, because not hearing something doesn’t mean I can’t see a person’s face when they speak. She was angry. She was frustrated with me. I suddenly wanted to be anywhere other than here. I got up, grabbed my jacket, and pocketed my phone.

Marissa slipped in front of me. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

I pushed past her as she opened her mouth to argue. This wasn’t her decision. It was mine. Sure, I had nowhere to go, and she had the car keys, so I couldn’t drive.

Imagine my surprise when I was heading down the street and realised there was a biker guy sitting on his motorcycle chatting on his phone, and imagine my further surprise when I got closer and realised it was him. My mystery man from the rock club.

“You.”

He murmured something to whoever he was chatting to, and slid the phone inside his leather jacket.

“Hey.”

I glanced behind me to make sure my sister hadn’t followed, and although she hadn’t, I could see the curtains moving. She’d been watching. She’d follow me out here and give him hell again, so I did the only thing I could.

“Get me out of here, please.”

He blinked, glancing down that the helmet in his hands, and frowning deeply.

“Do… do you not want to?” I was really hoping he’d be my hero tonight and get me away from her. He’d seemed interested in me before, but was he just faking that? Was he just trying to get in my pants, and then he’d ghost me anyway?

“No, I really really do,” he said, suddenly looking determined. He climbed off the motorcycle and lifted his helmet in my direction. “You need to wear this.”

I cast my eyes at the empty motorcycle and realised the problem. He didn’t have a spare.

“What about you?” I glanced behind me again, and the curtains were gaping enough that I knew she was watching right now. Oh god. She’d be out here in mere seconds now. They suddenly dropped closed and I knew I’d run out of time. When I turned to him, his eyes found mine again, from looking past me, and I knew he got it too.

“Here.” He eased the helmet over my head, and fastened the strap at my chin. “Good?” I nodded, and he smiled, lowering the visor for me. He climbed back on his motorcycle, and reached out to help me climb on behind him. He tapped my thigh and lifted his hands over his head, clasping them together. Huh?

Next he reached for my hands and pulled them around him, tapping my fingers and lifting his hands again. Oh. He was demonstrating how to hold on. He started the engine, and there was an instant low rumbling hum that I could feel vibrating through my body. Why hadn’t I realised this before? Motorbikes were something else I could almost hear, because of how they filled my other senses and made me feel them.

The biker guy, Stag, patted my hands again and the motorbike started to move, my grip tightening as he picked up a little speed down the street, just as my sister charged out of the house and started waving her arms. She was probably shouting too, if Stag’s tensing shoulders were an indicator of him feeling her words hitting like knives. She would probably go nuts when I got home. Wow, she wouldn’t do anything else, right?

The motorbike was taking a bend, and again, my grip tensed as I felt myself leaning with the movement, and then we were parking up somewhere. Already? I was just getting to enjoy myself. We were outside a still open business, that was lit up in the darkness, and in the window, I saw a man in leathers moving boxes around.

The sign said ‘Harley’s’, and not ‘Harleys’. Huh? A grammatical error, or something else?

Stag patted my hands again and I assumed that meant to release him, even though I really didn’t want to. He fiddled around and next he passed his phone back to me with a message typed on it.

I need to get a helmet from here before we can go anywhere. You wanna come in and meet Harley?

I passed the phone back and lifted my hand in a ‘thumbs up’ gesture, because the engine was still rumbling, so I assumed he wouldn’t hear my response.

The guy from inside was already in the doorway by the time we were off the motorcycle and Stag’s helmet was in his hand again. The guy looked seriously pissed off, and that was aimed directly at Stag, his lips moving in anger.

“You came here without a fucking helmet on? Are you out of your mind?!”

Chapter Thirteen