Chapter Two
That fucker pushed her. I saw him, shoving his way past her like that so she nearly fucking fell down. Let’s see how he likes being shoved. I ran past her as she rested against the wall, making sure I didn’t trip either of us over, and I made my way around the corner that asshole had turned down.
There he was, up ahead, striding on like he was on a mission. Well, it was a mission he was about to fucking miss out on.
“Oi fucker!”
I yelled as I approached him, and he spun on his heel, noting the emptiness of the little side street, and just me glaring at him.
I could tell he was eyeing my leathers, and the cut, the helmet in my hand. If he was worried I was about to be trouble for him, he was fucking spot on.
“You get off on shoving women around?”
He frowned, glancing around us again. “What?”
“You nearly mowed her down, you asshole. Did you think it made you look like a big man?”
He was shaking his head, backing up slowly, but there was nowhere to go. Sure, there was the other end of the alley, but I was about to make him regret taking this short cut. I set the helmet down carefully by the wall, and advanced on him.
“Whoa. What are you doing, mate? I’m not… I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t want any trouble.”
They never wanted the trouble, but they invited it. He shoved my… he shoved a woman who couldn’t hear him coming. He could have injured her.
“Did you see how she nearly fell?”
His eyebrows twitched and he shrugged a shoulder.
“I did say excuse me, but the bitch wasn’t listening.”
He’d run out of time, because I was on him, shoving him down onto his back, resting a booted foot on his throat.
“Wasn’t listening? The lady is deaf, motherfucker. How’s she supposed to hear you? Now I’m gonna show you the consequences of shoving her, then I’mma add a few bruises for calling her a bitch. You know you deserve this, so shut up and take it like a man.”
He didn’t shut up, nor did he take it like a man, but a few well-placed punches, and a solid kick or two to his gut did hopefully teach him the valuable lesson I’d intended. It wasn’t difficult, right? You walk around the person in your way. Not through them.
She was gone when I came back out of the alley, but now I’d seen her here once, I was already planning to take this route more often, just in case I could set my eyes on her again.
At the clubhouse, which was approaching completion at last after months of rebuilding, I gathered with the guys around the old firepit which was being dug out and disposed of tomorrow. It was like a last night party, for a fucking pit we lit fires in, but still. It meant beers, so I was in.
“Cast any spells lately, brother?” Henley asked me as he passed beers out, and he missed my glare in response. He’d caught me trying to learn sign language the other day, but he chose being a dick over paying real attention. Story of my life.
“Spells?” Rocket piped up, and I knew the piss-taking was about to start.
“I was just flipping you off, man. You’re too sensitive.
” I tapped the neck of my beer against Rocket’s as he laughed, and the attention shifted from us to Micro who was standing up to address us.
There were about twenty of us here tonight with others working or away, or just being standoffish fuckers.
“Brothers, it’s been a long time and a ton of hard work, but we’re getting there!”
“Like you’d know,” Ghost muttered, grinning at us as Micro flipped him off.
“As I was saying, the end of an era, and the start of another. A club rising from the-”
“I swear to god, if the next word out of your mouth is ‘ashes’, that’s what you’ll be,” Grease snapped, tossing a bottle cap at Micro.
“It’s the whole Phoenix thing, brother. It’s literally what happened! Okay, dead. Can I say dead, you annoying fucker?”
Grease shrugged, lifting his hands, so Micro continued.
“We’ve risen from the…” a smirk at Grease, “ashes.”
“Fucker!”
“This is the beginning of wonderful things, brothers. A family, a brotherhood, fun, plenty of riding, and you know, bedrooms with windows!”
“Finally!”
Micro sobered a little, and here we go. Wah wah wah, I was a prick but you all love me now.
“I know we had to destroy this club before we could rebuild, but I’m invested in every one of you who stuck around, and our new prospects and members. This is a future we can all look forward to.”
I groaned. “I was kinda looking forward to a beer and a chillout. You gonna keep jawing at us?”
Someone tossed a beer cap at me, and I grinned. Micro merely sighed.
“Have fun, brothers. I’ll be here for a bit, then I have to go home to Soph and the baby.”
Yeah, rub it in. You have a woman who actually willingly chose you. I don’t know if the woman I like will even give me the time of day, but I can’t just give up. Persistence is key, right? Isn’t that what they say?
“So what were you doing, man?” I ignored Henley, because the fucker was prying into my personal shit, and I didn’t exactly see myself clueing him in anytime soon.
“Planning out my new room, you know, where my furniture goes and stuff.”
He smirked. “Sure. Keep lying, but I know the truth.”
I finished my beer, and grabbed a second, because if we were getting rat-arsed, I needed to drink faster.
“The truth is, you’re an annoying nosy cunt, yeah?”
He frowned, looking a little shocked at my outburst, which nobody caught, because they weren’t paying any attention to us at this point.
“Sorry,” he said finally, “it’s none of my business. I just… felt like I recognised the gestures, that’s all.”
“It’s not a fucking wizard kink or something!”
He nodded. “I know.” He got up and walked over to join Harley, who was talking to Ghost about his ride, and I realised I wasn’t in the mood for this shit after all.
Somewhere out there was the woman of my fucking dreams, but she wasn’t even aware I would still be thinking about her, because of her fucking sister getting in my face. What was that bitch’s problem anyway?
Claudia
Marissa was definitely following me around, and today I caught her, and decided to confront her.
I didn’t speak often around people, because I’d been laughed at before, and told I sounded weird, but sadly that’s how you sound when you haven’t heard your voice in fourteen years.
I was twelve when it happened, which meant I knew what I was missing by not hearing things, and I knew how to speak, but I mostly read lips or used sign language.
It frustrated me that sign language wasn’t taught as standard in schools, since most people would know someone in their lifetime who needed assistance with hearing or speech, and it was so essential to help deaf people feel less isolated.
I was teaching a class at the local community centre, but frustratingly people came and went regularly, so there was no real opportunity to take anyone from knowing none, to being able to converse naturally. Anyway, back to Marissa.
“Hey,” she said, her lips forming the word carefully, almost too carefully. I didn’t need over enunciation, I just needed her to speak normally. She tried way too hard to accommodate my lack of hearing.
I swallowed hard, knowing the art of talking always felt a little rusty to me now, and of course while I could feel the vibration of my voice, I couldn’t actually hear it.
“You’re following me.”
She looked a little startled, like she was surprised I’d even noticed. That was because she thought I wasn’t capable of looking after myself.
“It’s been fourteen years, big sis. I swear, I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Her lips softened into a smile at the reference to her being my big sister. Eight minutes between us, but you’d think it was eight years with the responsibility she’d taken on her shoulders after my illness.
“I’m just shopping,” she protested, but even without hearing her words, I knew they’d sound lame, an untruth that was just as visible when you could see every tic of a person’s features.
Lipreading gave me this extra sense, in a way, because if I wasn’t watching someone’s hands as they spoke, I was seeing every twitch and nuance of their emotion on their faces.
Probably seeing it to a level that they didn’t even realise, because hearing people didn’t need to look so hard.
Her lips always turned down a little when she lied.
Some people’s lips would twitch, and for others, they’d actually lower their heads a little, like the shame of lying weighed them down.
“You hate it here. I come here for the thrift shops and you hate those.”
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.