Page 5 of Stag

Marissa sighed, nodding slowly. “I saw you going out, and figured I’d just keep an eye.”

“I’m not someone who needs your protection. You should be working, but instead you’re watching me.”

She ducked her head, her hands moving instead to speak, because she knew I’d miss her emotions this way.

*I don’t trust that man from the club. He was creepy.*

She meant the biker she attacked for daring to speak to me in the club. I know he would have apologised for yelling if he’d realised, but she never gave him that chance.

“He’s probably too worried about bumping into you again, if he even remembers us.”

Her mouth was pressed together in a grim line as she lifted her head, her fingers moving once more.

*He remembers.*

Why would she know that, or was she just making a stupid assumption because of arrogance?

“It’s water under the bridge to him. He’ll have moved on. You need to as well, Mar. This isn’t right. I’m not your charge to protect. I’m your sister and I’m capable of living a normal life!”

She reached out to grab me as someone pushed their way past me, and that look in her eyes was her response. She clearly felt that I needed to be protected, because I might get bumped by some dickhead. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it would have happened if I could hear or not.

“Some guy was attacked just down the road from here the other day. Beaten up by some guy in leathers.”

She eyed me intensely, trying to burn the meaning into my soul, but she was making assumptions. I shook my arm free and stomped my foot, the jarring movement sending a shockwave up my leg. A reminder that the things I couldn’t hear were still right there around me.

“I don’t need your protection! Leave me alone.” I turned and marched away from her, feeling her gaze burning into the back of my head the whole way down the street. I wasn’t trying to be cruel, but she needed to focus on herself and live her own life now. I wasn’t her pet, or her child. I had my own life to live, and she needed to stop taking on the responsibility for another person, so she could move on.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I carefully slid it out and pressed my thumb against the screen to open up the message.

Marissa: I’ll never stop watching out for you.

Why did that sound almost like a threat, rather than the comforting message it was probably meant to be, at least if she weren’t the person invading every part of my life in the name of protection.

Chapter Three

It felt like forever had passed since I saw her that one time in the street, but I think it was just days. When all your days feel the fucking same, time tends to blur into a dull routine, monotony to the max. You’d think I’d like that, I mean, as an accountant, surely I like a boring life. Yeah, right. That’s why I joined an MC. For boredom.

“There she is,” I hissed to myself, watching her head into the large superstore with a trolley, ready to do her shopping. It wasn’t wrong of me to follow her if I was just watching out for her, right? I’d strapped my helmet to my ride, and shoved my phone in my pocket. That left my hands free to protect her if she needed it. Don’t ask me why her safety had become the most important thing in my life, especially as we’d never spoken to each other.

My heart thudded in my chest, a bitter taste in my mouth, as I realised we never would speak to each other. I needed to learn how to sign, because at least then I’d have a chance of conversing with her, and understanding her responses. Fucking idiot. I’d tried learning some on my phone, and that’s what Henley walked in on. Me trying to learn to say I’m sorry. If I could at least say that to her, I’d feel like I’d redeemed myself a little.

“YOU!” Someone hissed from behind me, as they shoved me hard from behind, both hands firm against my back. I spun on my heel, using the momentum to keep me upright, and there she was. The toxic asshole sister.

“Jesus fuck,” I grumbled, straightening my cut.

“You’re following her now?”

I grinned at her, despite my frustration at being kept from my duty to keep my woman safe. My woman? Why did I keep thinking of her that way? We’d never even met properly. I didn’t even know her fucking name. I just kept seeing those wide green eyes, and those pouty lips open in a gasp, and I wanted to know her.

“Looks to me like you’re the one following her… either that, or you’re following me.”

She tried to slap me, but I caught her wrist in a fairly tight grip. I mean, the bitch was trying to attack me, so I wasn’t about to hold back.

“Let go of me!”

“You alright, love?” Some older guy asked and I shoved her away from me to turn and eye him. Thought he was brave, but he was asking for trouble. Not from me. From this crazy bitch.

“She’s the one attacking me, mate. She’s fucking nuts.”