Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
"The past is never where you think you left it."
―Katherine Anne Porter
I paced back and fourth along the barred cubicle, starting to feel a bit depressed by the lackluster color scheme. I wasn't the type of girl to wear a rainbow, but a dab of red never hurt anybody. I could feel the cabin fever slowly creeping up on me. I was waiting for the fuzz to get me a doughnut and coffee because it was morning now, but I didn't know what time. I didn't have my phone because that was taken and so was the baggie of Blue Diamond I had stashed on me. I doubted they'd charge me for having the pot, but that was still a dick move.
I didn't consider myself a stoner, but I did smoke on a pretty regular basis because of my Anxiety problem. I had my first public attack when I was in 7th grade and it was because a group of girls decided to pick on the new freckle-faced ginger kid by surrounding her in the bathroom. Of course, they all ran away when I passed out and a janitor found me. I got sent to the school counselor, got professionally examined and found out that the root of it was Rosemary, my mother. I already knew that fire-breathing bitch fucked me up and gave me a horrible childhood, but I declined therapy sessions and was given treatment options.
Since I started smoking, my Anxiety's really gotten under control and an attack is as frequent as a blood moon. I met my best friend when I was looking for dealers to buy from and he took me to the dispensary store a good friend of his owned. I became a regular customer and a valued one at that.
Zane and I have gotten closer since we met. He meant everything to me, took care of me and always was there when I needed him. I loved him to pieces. He always kept a calm demeanor and had his temper in check, but he was a silly guy. He told me his last name was Nakano and that he was from Japan. Zane had these amazing amber eyes that made me think he was a demigod or supernatural being for a while. Those lovely eyes were almost always covered by his long black hair and I'd always put it in a ponytail or 'man-bun' as he calls it. He was older than me, but I didn't know by how many years because he never told me. He was legal for sure though.
During one of our Stoned Sessions, I found out that Zane earned his living by street racing, which was very illegal in Scotts Valley, but that didn't stop him or the other racers from competing almost every weekend. The races ranged from late-night highway runs to out of the state competitions and according to Zane, the rush was addictive. He had a motorcycle for when he was in a race, but I've never been on it because he says that was his most prized possession. I knew he belonged to a gang because he always carried a pistol and he's been teaching me how to use one, gave me a Jesse James customized Kimber 1911 to keep. It was a beautifully designed gun and I carried it with me like he said.
I was 'kindly' escorted to the station last night because I was caught in a bar fight turned street brawl. One of the things about being so tight with Zane was that he'd sometimes ask me to start a public disturbance alongside some random people he paid, so the police would be distracted while his races were going on and that would open the possibility of getting arrested. I never had a problem causing trouble and it was pretty fun to me, but the only thing that sucked was getting arrested. That wasn't a common thing though. I always made it hard for the fuzz to catch me and I loved sending them on a wild chase. Zane was a bit of an adrenaline addict and I guessed some of it rubbed off on me. I've been to Juive on an assault charge and it was for a year. I got out when I was 17 and graduated high school early. Zane was waiting at the gates for me too and I've never seen him so happy before.
Since then, I haven't been back to prison, but I've gotten a few public disturbance and assault charges due to my rowdy distractions. Since they were always misdemeanor offenses, I'd be given the option to pick a few weeks to 3 months in the pen, Community Service or house arrest and I gladly stayed boxed in Zane's condo. I didn't go to my house because he could be there or he could break in and I didn't want to be trapped with him for a year with no way out.
Just thinking about him made my heart beat a little faster and I knew that terrifying feeling all too well. The walls would start closing in, I'd feel like I was floating in outer space without a helmet which would make my chest tight and the nauseating dizziness would be next. Zane told me he got out 3 weeks ago and I've been keeping my eyes peeled, but I haven't seen him around town. My nerves were suffering from the possibility of him just popping up out of nowhere.
Like I was taught by my high-school counselor, I sat down on the cot, started taking deep breaths, closed my eyes and started thinking positive thoughts. Most of them were memories of Zane and I. There was something about him that always calmed me down and when I was around him, there was no such thing as panic. He made me feel safe and loved.
I opened my eyes when I heard a door open and shoes on the concrete floor. A female guard stopped at my cell and unlocked it, holding the gate open. Her golden-brown hair was bulled back in a neat bun and she had very pretty chestnut-brown eyes, but I've never seen her in the station before. Her name-tag said 'B. Gibson.' I usually got handled by Officer Dallas Creed or Edward Kaine, but I didn't even see my regulars when I came in. Maybe they got fired or transferred to a new station and this Gibson woman was one of the new replacements.
Gibson wasn't looking at me like I was a no-good delinquent' her eyes weren't judging. She actually looked a bit relieved and I wondered if this was her first day on the job.
"You got bailed out. There's someone out front to take you home." She briefly explained in a light tone, locking the gate after I stepped out and cuffing me.
Gibson had her hand around my cuffed wrist to escort me though the buzzing, modernized station and other than stopping for a brief second to chat with another officer, she led me to the exit. I squinted at the bright sunlight and when my eyes adjusted, I saw Zane at the curb leaning on his street legal CR500AF Supermoto. His dark-blue flannel was cuffed to his elbows and open, letting me see the black tank under his tightly crossed arms. He had his dark aviators on and he wasn't smiling because he absolutely loathed the police, but I knew he was happy to see me.
Officer Gibson took the cuffs off me and instinctively, I rubbed at my slightly itchy wrists when they were freed. I was about to run to Zane, but Gibson gently grabbed my shoulder. Zane stood up straight and I was starting to plan a way to get away from her without getting another assault charge. The woman held up a plastic drawstring bag and it had my name on it, so this was the stuff they took off me.
"You don't have to live this way, Marceline." I was looking though the bag to make sure all my stuff was accounted for, already having my bracelets back on, but the sound of my first name made me look at the cop. Gibson was giving me a solicitous look now, one a parent would to their child when they got in trouble, and I knew I wasn't going to like whatever she was about to preach. "I've seen kids like you change for the better and no matter what anyone says, you can change. Just stay in school, get away from the wrong crowds and keep your mind off boys."
"I already graduated high school, got out early." I bluntly stated and she looked surprised to hear it. "They didn't put me on some special plan because I got knocked up either. While everyone else was getting into 12th-grade with a 5th-grade reading level and opening their legs to anyone who called them pretty, I was working my ass off to nourish my brain cells."
"Then get off the streets, they aren't a place to call home and you can do so much better. You're obviously a very smart girl and you have so much potential. Don't you want your Mother to be proud of you?"
"Rosemary's rotting in a ditch and I wouldn't give a single shit if she was proud of me or not. I don't need life lessons from some 9-to-5 Police Academy grad either, so piss off." I glared at the woman and turned on my heel, leaving her insulted and red with embarrassment.
When I was close enough, Zane raised and eyebrow at me and I groaned in response. I heard him chuckle and he mounted his bike. I got on and wrapped my arms around his stomach, happily anticipating the rush of wind about to be blown in my face. The first batch of times he had me on this bike, he refused to put the goddam keys in the ignition until I put a helmet on, but he lets me ride without it now. I liked it better without a helmet anyway.
I always got lost in myself when I'd ride with Zane and I never felt more relaxed than when I did. I was in a state of complete bliss and I almost felt like I was dreaming. All my problems would evaporate from my mind, trail down my copper-brown hair and dissolve into the blurred scenery of Scotts Valley, California. There were no worries, no problems, just the long road and clear skies.
When the pleasant rumbling under me stopped, I knew we were at my house and I finally opened my eyes. I dismounted first and opened the black, metal gate to the path of my folk Victorian home. It kinda looked like a pale-yellow version of the house from Up. With a gander at the streets, I didn't see his bike or car parked anywhere, so he wasn't in there or lurking around. I was watching Zane roll his bike inside the gate and I glanced down the street at all the other houses. There weren't a lot of teenagers on my block and those that were around here were pretty cool with me. I wouldn't call them friends, we were barely acquaintances, but we'd always wave whenever we saw each other.
3 doors down in a Point Grey Craftsman home was Ms. Lavinia Delavan and she reminded me of Jessica Lange with her honey eyes and golden-blonde wavy bob. She was in her late 50s or early 60s, not that she'd ever admit it, and she was a Southern Belle if I've ever met one. She had a beautiful, flourishing garden that she took care of like it was her children and her hard work payed off every year because our community had a Most Gorgeous Garden competition.
Ms. Lavinia had a record of winning, but on the accounts that she didn't, Ms. Maisie Caswell would take 1st place. She was right across the street from Ms. Lavinia and had an equally breathtaking garden. She was more of a Tilda Swinton with her vanilla-blonde androgynous pixie cut and ice-blue eyes. She had more of a country-farm charm and she wore her denim jumper more than anything.
As sweet as they were, those 2 had a century old rivalry going on. Since both women were fond of me, they'd always make me a bouquet of white Anemones and coral Poppies. When they were ready, I'd always go pickup their medications or run little errands for them and I refused to take money, so they repaid me with homemade treats. In my time with them, figured out why they hated each other. They were friends turned enemies all because of Sebastian Decelle, the man of their dreams.
They both wanted Sebastian and were constantly competing for him throughout high school. Sebastian took Ms. Lavinia to Senior Prom and 2 years after graduation, they moved in together. With Ms. Lavinia being raised in an old-fashioned kind of way, she was expecting him to marry her and when she started talking about it, he went over to Ms. Maisie and started a goddamn love triangle. After years of backstabbing, police calls and both women throwing Sebastian's clothes out the window, the bachelor died about 10 years ago, but the women have still been giving each other a hard time and claiming that Sebastian loved one of them more than the other. I wasn't sure if Sebastian was the father, but both women had children that came to visit a few days every month.
Ms. Lavinia just poked her head up from the hordes of colorful plants in her garden and looked down the street. Even under her violet Pioneer bonnet, I saw the corners of her eyes crinkle in delight as she smiled and waved to me. I waved back and Zane walked with me on the small porch. I unlocked the door and poked my head inside. The house was still in order and nothing looked like it was moved or taken, but I went into the kitchen to check the back door. It wasn't broken in, but I peeked out of the short curtain covering the window on the door to look in the backyard. Nobody was sitting in one of the patio chairs under the canopy gazebo or in the wooden daybed swing hanging from the tree.
"He's been out a few weeks." Zane said and I felt his chest press against my back as he looked out the window. "He hasn't come around?"
"No, haven't seen him or his car."
"I haven't seen him around town either, but Hikaru and Michi think they saw him riding around with Scrap."
"They think?"
"It looked like him, but it didn't. I know, it's confusing. I rode by their clubhouse on my way to get you and things were quiet. I don't think we've got anything to worry about. You changed the locks, right?"
"Yeah, you're key's in my room on the nightstand."
"Where's you gun?"
"Under my pillow and it's loaded."
"Good girl." He chuckled and gave me a peck on the cheek.
Zane squeezed my hip and I turned around just in time to see him slide his flannel off, revealing his muscular arms. He took his phone out and I heard him talking in Japanese before he started heading upstairs. I looked at the clock on the stove and it was 12:47, so I'd make us sandwiches for lunch. I got the cheese and lunchmeat out of the fridge to set them on the counter, peering out of the window over the sink as I made them. I got some sodas from the fridge and it was then that I noticed the light-avocado eyes on top of the icebox. I smiled up at Melinoë. She was my black, ginger and white calico cat and she was my little goddess. I didn't know what breed she was though. She used to be a street kitten that would wander the neighborhood and almost everyone on the block would set out a bit of food for her, but she let me adopt her.
I got Melinoë down, but she just curled up under the table. She was such a lazy cat. I clicked my tongue to get her to follow me and after she stretched, she was languidly sauntering behind me. My house only had 1 bedroom, but it had an attic and that's where my room was. The attic wasn't tiny and cramped, but it wasn't huge and spacious either. It was just right. The real bedroom used to be Rose's, so I never went in there and it was more of a guest room now. I climbed the dogleg stairs and the latch was already open, Zane's voice floating from the opening.
My full bed took up the space between the staircase railing and the wall. That's where the ceiling slanted a bit, but there was a picture window on it that let all the soft sunlight in to wake me up everyday. My bed was on a white captain's platform frame and all my artistic stuff was in the drawers. There were slate blue, peach or white cotton ball string lights stretched along the cream walls, a vintage dresser with a 32 inch TV and my Xbox on top, a matching desk with my black laptop on it and a bookshelf made from skateboard decks next to it; movie or music posters taped everywhere else.
Zane was sitting on the edge of my bed with my pistol in his hands and still talking in his native language. I sat next to him and put our lunch on my bed before unlacing my knee-high Converses. I started peeling the crusts off my sandwich when I recognized Zane say 'jaa ne', a form of 'goodbye', and he stuffed his phone back in his jeans.
"So..."
"Nani." Zane finished my sentence and I narrowed my eyes at him. That meant 'what'.
"So, are you gonna tell me what happened last night or are you gonna leave me to wonder?" I asked and he swung his legs over the bed so he was facing me, our legs next to each other. He still had his shades on, but he smirked at me when he bit into his sandwich.
"You got arrested, obviously." He quipped back and I scoffed at him, trying not to smile at how sassy he was being right now.
"Smart ass." I playfully scolded, thinking about flinging a strip of crust at him. "What happened with the race?"
"Nothing, much. It was just a regular one, I guess." He plainly answered and I set my napkin-covered meal down. He always said 'I guess' when was lying. I leaned forward and took his shades off, finding a fading crescent of black eye under his right one. He usually didn't get into fights, so this was something new and I didn't like it one bit.
"That's nothing?" I scoffed, tossing the shades in his lap, and he shrugged.
"Someone didn't agree with the ref that I came in first and he picked a fight. It happens all the time. No worries, Marci."
"You won?" I asked, smiling, and that made Zane smile too. His straight white teeth sunk into his bottom lip in a mock attempt at modesty and I felt my heart flutter at the gesture. I loved seeing him smile, but he always tried not to.
After taking the last bite of his sandwich, Zane dug into his pocket again and he pulled out a thick wad of cash that was somehow held together by 2 thin rubber bands. That was way more than what I was used to seeing him win for a night's race. I knew he had to give some of his winnings to his racing gang and he'd still have a couple grand for himself, but that had to be at least 20 or 30.
"You're drooling, babe." Zane chuckled and leaned forward to tap my chin.
He beckoned me to come to him and I did, leaning my back on his chest. His arms curled around me and rested on my legs as he took the elastic off the money. He swiftly swiped through the hundreds, fifties or twenties and I could hear him mumbling as he counted. He was going too fast for me to keep up, but I was trying to and he definitely won more than 10 thousand.
"Race lasted all night. Started here, went around Oakland and stopped at Olympic Valley." Zane explained, still flicking through the cash.
"I thought you were going to Nevada."
"We were, but that's someone's turf and we didn't want to start any shit with whatever are guys running the place, so the end point got tweaked."
"Anything happen other than that fight? You got back pretty late."
"No, they just remove the checkpoints once the last rider comes past and I had a little trouble finding my way back."
"Can't have the cops knowing where you guys play." I quipped and he chuckled, but it turned into a yawn. He probably hasn't gone to sleep since he came home. "You should take a nap."
Zane put the rubber bands back on the cash and set the wad on my nightstand. His arms tightened around me and I felt his chin rest on my shoulder, his warm cheek on mine. I guess that meant he was staying up. I leaned back into him and nuzzled my head into his neck, closing my eyes to savor the peace of this moment.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, just being close and silent. That was one of the things I liked about Zane. He wasn't the kind of guy who needed to be vocal, his eyes or little gestures said everything. We didn't have to talk to know what we were thinking and I swear we could read each others minds. He wasn't too touchy or clingy either; he was just right and I'd never tell him, but I thought he was perfect.
I opened my eyes when I felt Zane's lips on on the bare skin of my shoulder that was exposed by my sleeveless gray tunic dress. His soft kisses trailed across and to my neck, making my heart start to thump against my rib cage hard enough to shoot out of my body. This wasn't a bad thing though, wouldn't trigger an Attack. I was nervous, but not to an extreme point.
This has been happening a few months after Zane settled into my life. The first time he kissed me, he brushed it off as him being intoxicated and I let it slide because he was a bit drunk, but it happened again when he was very sober. After that, he'd start cuddling with me, holding my hand, giving me long hugs and a quick kiss when he'd leave. There were feelings between us, but neither of us said anything about them. I didn't know if we were an exclusive couple or just friends who kissed, but I was totally fine with whatever we were. I just wanted him to stay around.
I was so nervous because I've never been with a guy before. I've had boyfriends that I've fooled around with, but we never went to that intimate level mainly because I always got so tense. Zane was different though. When I'd get too nervous, he'd stop instead of trying to pressure or convince me to keep going. The guys in my past would really push the boundary of "No means No", but Zane never has and he never got mad at me if I asked him to stop.
I wasn't a shy girl, far from coy, but I didn't like drawing unneeded attention to myself. I wasn't afraid to start cursing up a storm or getting into a catfight and when I was in lockup, I really had to start fighting because some of those girls liked to bully the new meat. My jail time made my skin tougher than it already was.
But girls were one thing, guys were a completely different subject.
I got severely nervous when it came to a guy seeing me naked and sex. I didn't know what to do and I was afraid that I'd make a horrid yowling noise or that I'd hurt him in some way. I knew I was going to embarrass myself when experiencing my first time and that's probably why I was so edgy about the whole thing. I think I was trying to avoid an awkward situation and I was prepared to steer clear of it for a long time.
"Z-Zane..." I breathed out, tingling when his lips were on my cheek and I felt them flushing.
"I know, I wasn't trying to push you." He kissed my cheek again and slid from behind me, the loss of his warm body making me cool down.
I finished eating and Zane told me all about his overnight race. It amazed me how these things were planned by a huge network of people and a rambunctious audience would gather to watch, yet the cops never caught on to them unless they saw 10 motorcycles zipping down the street. Even when they did, they could never catch any of the riders. Well, there were some arrests, but Zane always slipped away from the law and those who did get caught never snitched on the host of the competition or any of the other participants.
The thing that always worried me about Zane and these races was that other than following the checkpoints, there were no rules. The riders could do whatever they could to eliminate the competition and that sometimes resulted in horrible crashes. One of the accidents made the news and I saw the shredded guy who got dragged down 20 feet of asphalt. That always made me worry when I wouldn't hear from Zane all night or when he wouldn't sneak in. I tried to, but I could never prepare myself for the day I got a call from the hospital saying he was in critical care.
Zane hasn't told me much about his racing gang. They had a bar downtown that they used as their hangout and all the women in town would swarm the place to catch their attention. I believe they were called Kōsoku Haiburiddo and all the members were Japanese. Zane doesn't let me hang around his crew much, but I've met a few of them and they were all tattooed, tough guys with a steady glint of danger in their eyes. He said he didn't want me getting involved with his gang because they weren't anything good and he didn't want me getting hurt. I felt like he contradicted himself because I cause public disturbances to distract the cops until the racers were out of the city, but I didn't mind.
Zane went downstairs to use the bathroom, so I took the opportunity to change into something comfortable and that was an extra-large Nitro Circus t-shirt. Zane took me to go see them a few months ago and it was epic. I just crawled into bed when he came back up and he grabbed the TV remote, plopping next to me with enough force to make me bounce.
We watched a couple movies and like always, Zane had his arm around my shoulders. My head was on his chest and I could hear his mellow laughter as we watched the screen. His phone buzzed a few times and every time I'd try to peek at who he was texting, he'd cover my eyes until he was finished. We were halfway into Fantastic Mr. Fox, one of our favorite movies, when I started dozing off and I didn't realize how tired I was. When I got to the station, I was up for most of the night and I finally went to sleep when the sun made the sky into that romantic purplish-pink color. The cell's cot felt like a sack of potatoes, but it was always hard to sleep without Zane.
~.~.~.~.
I felt a humming under me and it made me open my eyes. Zane's light snoring never bothered me, it actually helped me sleep, but the vibrations weren't coming from him. Speaking of Zane, he altered the position we were in before I fell asleep. I was laying on him now, straddling really, with my head on his chest and his right leg was bent up to act like a seat for my butt. I heard him groan a bit before his hand slid between us to the front pocket of his jeans, his phone the source of the tremors. He flicked the tiny prepaid open and sighed.
"Kuso." He muttered and I looked up at him. He looked annoyed as hell, but his expression changed to a relaxed one when he looked down at me. "Hey there, beautiful."
"You have to leave, don't you?" I purposely ignored his compliment and he sighed a bit.
"Yeah, soon. I, uh...I'm not gonna come back tonight." I started to sit up, but his arm went around me and kept me on him.
"You just got back." I griped, pouting a bit.
"I know you don't want me to go and I wanna stay, but I got stuff to do, Marci. If he comes here, call me and I'll come back, but I have to leave. You know I'd stay if I could."
Zane let his eyes fall from mine and I knew he couldn't look at me because he'd stay if he let my heartbroken expression sink in. He usually crashed up here, sneaked out in the middle of the night and came back before I woke up. He had to do something with his racing gang, I knew he did. When he doesn't tell me what he's going out to do, that's always the reason. Most of their pivotal 'activities' took place at night and if he wasn't coming back, that meant something important was happening...something dangerous.
"Stop worrying about it, babe." Zane pulled me from my thoughts and tilted my chin up with his finger, making me gaze into those beautiful eyes of his. "It's nothing major."
"You're gonna do something stupid tonight, Zane. Some reckless shit that's gonna end with you getting sent to prison or worse."
"I'll be back tomorrow morning, Marci."
"Are you gonna kill someone?" I bluntly asked.
"What? No." He sat up and his eyebrows were fixed in a firm furrow. "It's nothing like that."
"...have you...before?" I asked in a mumble and Zane's expression changed into the impassive one he had at the station.
That was usually a sign to stop asking questions because I wasn't going to like the answer or he wasn't going to tell me and no amount of prodding would make him crack. Zane had to be the sweetest guy I've ever known, but there was another side of him that he kept hidden from me and it was when he'd deal with his crew. I knew illegal groups like his had illicit ties, but all I knew was that they partook in illegal races and that most of their members spent years behind bars at one point. Criminal gangs like his had rivals and when a problem arose between them, bodies started dropping. I don't think Zane's ever killed anyone before, but I could never put it out of my mind because he'd never tell me and his silence made my suspicions rise.
"23." Zane said after a few minutes of silence and I quirked an eyebrow at it. He was smirking at me, but I didn't know why. "That's how old I am."
"Bullshit." I said in breathless shock, smiling like a goof.
"I bullshit you not and I put that on a pack of strawberry Pocky Sticks." My jaw dropped and Zane laughed a bit, trying to stop smiling by biting his lip. He got me hooked on those treats and we always swore on them when we were being criminally serious.
"You're a goddamn creep!" I scolded in mock anger and punched him in the arm. "You were preying on an underage girl!"
"I wasn't preying on you!"
"You were 20 when I was 16!"
"But I don't bang jailbait 'cause prison's not my scene."
"Oh, so you were waiting until I was legal and lawfully consenting before you tried to rip my pants off?"
"Duh." He scoffed and tackled me on my back, making me laugh.
Zane started tickling me and I managed to push him off. I was a second away from getting out of bed when he grabbed me and pulled me back down, continuing the joyful torture until my gut was burning. I'd never think he was already in his 20s because I just turned 19 last week. I always thought he was a year older than me, not 4.
Zane and I were settling down, our laughs dying down as we calmed. Once I got myself together, I looked up at him and he was already gazing at me. I started blushing when I noticed he was settled between my legs and our chests were firmly pressed together. Zane gently moved the strands of hair from my face and I knew he could see my scarlet cheeks because I could see them reflecting in his eyes.
"You really are beautiful, Marci." He whispered and I felt his soft lips brush against mine, but I leaned up to kiss him before he pulled away.
That was a pretty bold move because he'd usually be the one advancing on me and I'd follow his lead. Something was different today though. This wasn't like earlier when I got nervous and he stopped. It was probably just me being upset that he had to leave, but this felt right and I wanted to explore this foreign feeling, get used to it...and him.
It took a second, but Zane kissed me back and I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers weaving through his slightly greased hair. While our mouths danced to their own tune, I felt his hands on my bare skin to caress my sides and my body started to heat at his touch, goosebumps instantly rising. I could feel my boyshorts starting to dampen with how riled up I was and Zane suddenly detached from my lips, making me gasp for the air I forgot I needed. His lips trailed down my cheek to my neck and he gently bit me. I arched at the pleasure it gave me and Zane went down to the scoop neckline of the oversized shirt to plant his sweet kisses all over my skin.
"Can I take this off?" He asked in a husky voice and it sent a jolt though me. I've never heard his voice sound so sexy before. I felt him tug the hem of my shirt. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded and he slid his hands under it, pulling it up.
I sat up to let him remove it and blushed harder at how much more exposed I was. I noticed Zane was staring at my chest and I remembered that I put on a lacy, dark-blue bra yesterday night. I favored the bandeau style, but I obviously had a change of heart. My bust wasn't anything to brag about though, full B-cups weren't something to drool over, but Zane was. He finally looked at me again and smirked, showing half his teeth.
Zane's head went to my chest and the smallest moan slipped out when I felt his lips on the tops of my mounds. Then, his strong hands started to gently grab and fondle, making me squirm under him. I was on fire and the feeling was out of this world. It was more like a hunger though and I needed more of him. Hesitant to tear him away from my chest, I tenderly pushed at his shoulders and shuddered in joy when he started going down, making a trail of kisses. His lips planted a final one on my navel and he looked up at me. His pupils were so dilated and the darkness was starting to push out the alluring hue of his eyes.
"You wanna keep going?" I nodded again and his hands went to my hipbones, his fingers slipping under my panties.
Slowly, he started to pull them down and his lips were kissing across my waistline. Zane and I have never gone this far, but I was so curious to see what he could make me feel like that I didn't want him to stop.
But it all came crashing down. Like a storm cloud rolling in, I was drenched from head to toe in a sudden coldness that made that little fire inside me burn out. I was nervous again and I couldn't think with all the insecure questions in my head. I tried to ignore the sudden nervousness, but another tug at my underwear almost made me panic.
"Zane, wait. I-I can't...I don't-t..." I hastily blurted out and he shot up, waiting for me to tell him what was wrong in plain English instead of the jumbled mutters spilling from my lips. Defeated, I sat up and sighed. "I liked it and everything you did felt amazing, but then I didn't and I got nervous and I don't know what happened and it just stopped...I'm sorry."
"Don't be, you're just not ready. It's okay, Marci." His hand went to my cheek and turned my head to him. He smiled at me and I gave him a smaller one back.
Zane gave me my shirt and I slipped it back on. It took a second for me to calm down and I tried apologizing to him again because I knew he was probably just as excited by that steamy session as I was, but he told me that everything was fine. We played a few rounds of Bomberman and I totally kicked his ass in Halo: Reach. Time passed quickly as we had fun animatedly playing videogames and he was about to get me off this aggravating level of Bioshock 2 that I've been stuck on for weeks, but he got another call...he had to go.
I sucked up my sadness at Zane leaving because he didn't need to think about me moping without him while he was with his crew. He held my hand as we walked to the front door and the moon was high in the sky now. Time was easily forgotten when I was with him. Zane gave me a long hug on the porch and he told me to blow up his phone if he comes tonight. He gave me another kiss on the cheek and rolled his bike out on the street. He never looked back when he left me and I never tried to make him. It was easier that way.
I sighed when Zane's bike was out of hearing distance and I felt something soft rub against my leg. I picked Melinoë up and cradled her in my arms, smiling at how her eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. Like always, I looked down the both ends of the street and checked all the cars. Nothing new and most of the lights were off in the houses.
I was about to go inside to attempt to enjoy a rare night without Zane, but a car caught my attention. A red and black Plymouth Hemi Cuda was across the street and the headlights were off. I frowned at the ride. That car's never been on this block before and it was in front of Mr. Gordon's house. He was a 30-year-old hermit that rarely came outside because he thought the end was near or something along those lines.
I didn't think anyone was inside the stationary car until the door popped opened. Even in the darkness, I could tell, just by the walk, that it was him and my heartbeat picked up. I closed my eyes and tried to think about that beautiful moment I had with Zane earlier, of anything that would make me relax, but the sound of his boots scraping on the cement walkway were out of sync with my hammering heart. The smell of cigarettes sunk into his leather flooded my senses and I knew he was on the porch, he was too close.
Fear and distress got the best of me. I had to open my eyes to see where he was and what the hell he was doing. As soon as my eyes focused, the red patch with golden letters over his heart was the first thing I regrettably recognized. Towering before me was Asher 'Gage' Levy, the current President of the infamous Spartans Motorcycle Club.
That patch was the last thing I saw before everything went black. I hoped this was a horrible nightmare, but something was telling me I was living in one a hell of a reality.