So here I was, lying on my bed in a foggy haze as I was still taking some drugs for the pain, and though I could move on my crutches, I still spent most of my time lying on the couch or in bed. I was bored. Holy shit, was I bored. I watched endless movies, read book after book after book, and texted a bit with my friends from school. I was going to miss the last few weeks of my eleventh year, but it had been arranged for me to take my finals through an online program at home, which I intended to do as soon as I wasn’t high on pain medication.
I tried keeping my mind as occupied as possible so that I didn’t have to think about things that were going to cause me to break down. I wasn’t ready to face any of it. Not yet. I needed to feel stronger before dealing with everything that had happened, and before I thought about what had been stolen from me that night, or about mum…
So, I spent most of my time daydreaming about crashing waves, soft sand, and the smell of pine in the air as I remember the feel of his soft hair beneath my fingers...
“Really, I’ll be okay,”
“Are you sure? Because I can put it off for another day or two-”
“No, James. Go. It’s been too long since you’ve been to the club. You and Shay are going crazy, I can see it.” I laugh lightly as I finish my breakfast, munching away on some toast and eggs my stepfather had made for me. He and Shay are standing on the other side of the table arms crossed and their faces etched with concern. But the fact that they are both dressed in dark shirts, jeans, and their black leather cuts, looking like the badass bikers they are, makes the whole scenario kind of hilarious in my eyes.
Since I’ve been too handicapped to do the usual household chores that were originally my responsibility, I’ve had a front row seat watching these two sweep, vacuum, dust, and do laundry. When they do it in their black leather, with the amazing Celtic blue dragon on the back, it makes me bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. But the best was when I caught James wearing my mom’s red gingham apron one morning while he was trying to follow her recipe for chocolate chip banana bread. He was good at making lots of things… like steaks, pasta, and breakfast food… but baking was not his forte, and the apron was covered with flour and spatter, plus the bread caught on fire somehow.
They needed a day out. Badly.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell them, and flash a rare smile, hoping it will convince them that I’ll really be okay. I don’t think I’ve truly smiled since the attack. When I do, it’s forced and half-hearted. But I do my best acting now to be as convincing as possible for the boys, hoping I look like the Mina from before, and not the injured, afflicted girl that I’ve become.
James seems convinced, and gives me a smile as he clears my plate for me, knowing I can’t with my crutches. “We’ll be back before dark, but keep the house armed while we’re gone,” he says as he quickly washes the utensils and plate. He dries off his hands, grabs the keys to his bike, and moves over to me. Cupping the back of my head gently, he gives my crown a chaste kiss. “If you need anything, you call, alright? I don’t give it a shit if it’s because you’re scared or… or… if you’ve fallen while taking a piss and need help getting up. Understand?”
I genuinely laugh at this and nod. “Gotcha.”
Giving my head a final pat, he heads out, letting the screen door crash shut behind himself. I can tell he’s eager to get back on his bike again by the way he’s been staring longingly at it from the sitting room window the past few days.
Slowly, I shift my gaze to Shay, knowing he’ll be harder to convince than my stepfather. Sure enough, his silver eyes are locked on to me, scrutinizing and studying as though he can read what’s going on in my mind. For a moment, I feel a flicker of panic bubble in my stomach, but I quickly quash it. If he had found my box of notes, or the exchange spot for the messages, he would have come to me immediately. It’s A-OK, he doesn’t know, I tell myself.
Shay moves around the table slowly, his black, leather biker boots clomping loudly on the hardwood floor, before stopping right beside me. I hold his stare, trying to appear confident and sure of myself. But the way my stepbrother stares me down, I feel a weird blush rise up my cheeks and I shift uncomfortably. At twenty-three, Shay’s become a serious chick-magnet at the club. He always had an easy time getting women, and for just a split-second, I find myself admiring him physically. His dark, almost black hair, is in its usual stylish mess around his face, falling over his eyes. His chin has a layer of dark whisker, and his skin is already tanned, though it’s just mid-June. His muscles bulged under his t-shirt and the leather cut completes his bad-ass biker look. For a few seconds, I find myself seeing what those other women see when they look at him…
And I quickly shake that thought away. What the hell is wrong with me? Must be the meds I’m on. I fight back the blush and smile up at him. “It’s okay, Shay.”
He lets out a long, harsh, sigh, running his hands through his messy waves, shoving them back off his face. He looks so torn, his eyes tight in the corners and his mouth pressed in a firm line. After a brief pause, he bends down on one knee so that he is looking up at me slightly, and holds onto the small of my waist. “You need me, I’ll be here,” he says, his voice sounding so tortured, it catches me off guard. He leans in and hugs me, his nose pressing against the hollow of my collarbone. “I’ll be here in a heartbeat. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you.”
Tentatively, I reached up and lightly touched his dark, wavy hair and his hard shoulder, “I know.” I whisper.
He shudders a little when my fingers touch his head, and murmurs, “I’ll be home before dark. I promise.”
I feel a weight lift from my heart at his words. I do need this time alone, but if I was stuck in this house alone after dark, I’m pretty sure I’ll have a heart-attack. Just the thought of it has my palms turning clammy.
“Thank you, Shay.”
He gives me one final squeeze before he lets me go, casting me one last regretful look before he stomps away, heading outside after James. After he locks the door behind himself, I breathe a shaky sigh of relief and look at the clock over the stove and wait...
The Past…
Mina: Eleven Years Old
December
“I made your favourite. Rocky Road cookies!”
“Ah, sweetheart, you slay me.”
“May I come by the club and drop them off? I made enough for the guys.” I was already wrapping the cookies up in Tupperware and stepping into my snow boots, eager to get going.
“Of course. We’ll all see you in a bit.” James’ voice was filled with affection. I was always welcome at the club, especially when I brought baked goods for him and the other guys. Shay, at seventeen, was there almost all the time now, and I wanted to see him, too. I missed seeing him as often as I used to. I hung up the phone and shoved my arms into my pink parka and shouted up at the landing above. “Mum! He says we can come by!”
“Coming! Coming! Hold your horses!” Mum stepped out of her bedroom, tying her long, dark hair back off her face. She was dressed for the cold weather in a sweater and jeans, and joined me by the door. “Anxious to see Shay?” she asked, casting me a disgruntled sort of look. She and Shay bickered all the time, but she knew I idolized him, and tried her best to hide her dislike around me.