The Biker's Rules

Red balloons go by

Date = 7 November

Place = San Francisco (Mel’s house) (Scoma’s Restaurant)

POV - Melaena

“Ouch,” I grimace as I lift the razor. Blood trickles from just below my knee where I nicked myself with the blade. I hate shaving my legs, but I hate waxing even more. Carefully, I glide the razor over my knee, removing the last bit of golden hair. I rinse it away under the tap.

Now for under my arms.

I wipe the steam from the mirror and stare at myself. My intestines pull into a knot as I look into my own eyes, trying to ignore the message my ‘windows to the soul’ portray back to me. My deepest, darkest secrets; the ones I’m desperately hiding from everybody — including myself — I have more feelings in my right tiny toenail for the devil I hate, than I have for the guy who is picking me up later.

How messed up is that? And what’s more, I want that devilish naked body sprawled over mine. That there is not just messed up, it’s juiced up crazy.

And even worse is that the devil was right. I do want a love that engulfs me, with someone real, that understands my soul.

The problem is that, if I let him, he can probably engulf me, and yeah, he seems to understand my soul, but — and there’s always a but — he’s not real.

I shake the thoughts of him from my head and meticulously scrape the baby-blue Gillette Venus under each arm before I walk into my room to get dressed.

A single red balloon hangs from my ceiling, an envelope with my name on, attached to the string.

“f**k!” Terror grips me by the throat and between one heartbeat and the next, I’m transported to another place and another time.

I was almost eight. There was a carnival, and as you entered the haunted house, you were given a red balloon and told to follow the path. Somehow, I took a wrong turn and got separated from my brothers. Three f**k-ass ugly clowns, with sharp teeth, bloody knives, and eerie voices stormed me all at once.

Run. I told my feet. But they were stuck.

I watched them creep closer and closer.

Then BANG!

My red balloon popped. It unstuck my feet and I ran. I’ve always been fast, but that day I broke all records.

Afterward, my brothers went looking for the clowns. I don’t know if they ever found them. But I do know that I hated clowns ever since. They scare me shitless.

It’s just a balloon. No clowns I think to myself. Just a balloon in my room. I take a deep breath in. And out. Then another.

But then another fear settles into my gut. How did it get here?

“Kiara! KIARA!” I yell and she runs into my room with big eyes, dressed in only a bra, panties in hand. I take a deep breath of relief — she’s okay.

“What the fudge!” she wails and I point to the balloon with my eyes. She turns her head and a frown pulls between her perfect brows. Then she looks back at me.

“It’s a balloon,” she hisses and steps into her undies.

“I know that,” I say and take another deep breath. “How did it get here?”

“Oh … OH s**t!” Realization hits her and she frantically scans the room. She grabs the envelope, pulls out the card, and reads it out loud.

Babe, I can't wait to make you mine. You belong to me, always and forever.

Your one true love.

D

XOXOXO

Ug, the talking pig reverence again. What is it with guys and that word? Almost every guy uses it. I’m so glad Damion doesn’t call me that.

“Okay, this is getting crazy creepy,” I say.

SHATTER.

We both yelp and Kiara grabs my arm. The broken glass noise came from the kitchen. We are not alone.

A small rational part of my mind tells me not to panic. No one can get into this complex. It’s safe.

But it is too late for logic. Panic steals my breath, stops my heart, and I can hardly think.

Or move.

I look at Kiara, and she stares back, fear in her eyes. Fear that kicks my survival instincts into drive.

I pick up the baseball bat Jackson got me, especially for occasions like this, and swing it over my shoulder.

Slowly, I make my way down the corridor, one step at a time, with Kiara following, clinging to my towel. At the entrance to the kitchen I stop, close my eyes, and take one last deep breath. I peek around the corner.

The shadowy outline of a man is standing at the coffee machine. Hell, a caffeine-addicted intruder.

I move into the kitchen, bat in position, best friend at my back.

“Freeze or I’ll knock your balls in.”

The man swears and turns around, his hands cupping his junk. “Chill, it’s me,” Axel’s voice says.

“f**k. What are you girls doing?” he asks lightly, leaning his long body against the counter. “You nearly gave me a f*****g heart attack.”

We scared him. I snort and swing the bat around to point it at his face. I still have the urge to kick his butt.

“You are the one sneaking around like a frickin burglar,” I sneer through my teeth. He moves his eyes over us from top to bottom and then he splits his sides. Yeah, I’m in a towel and Kiara is in underwear … but who cares? It’s Axel.

“What are you doing here?” Kiara grunts. He crosses his arms, still slanting against the kitchen bench.

“You asked me to babysit, remember.” Kiara rolls her eyes and disappears down the hallway, mumbling something about how the world would have been so much better without men.

He takes his cup from the Nespresso and frowns at me.

“What’s really up with you?” There’s no hiding stuff from him, he’s as psychic as my brothers. I tell him about the balloon.

“Yeah, Anton at the gate brought it over, so I put it in your room,” he chucks, “You were in the shower, so I couldn’t very well go in and tell you.” This time I do the eye roll.

“It’s from D.” He takes an extra big sip of coffee.

“I thought it was from the douche.” Meaning Ren.

“Anyway, I guess I should get ready to dumb the douche then,” I tease and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“It’s about time.” He strolls out of the kitchen, stretches himself out on the sofa, and switches on the TV.

“You better get ready, Kiara planned a whole movie night.” He and Kiara don’t share the same taste in movies.

“I’m game as long as there’s popcorn. And because I can do with a nap.”

“Don’t you sleep at the station?”

“Yeah, but it was a rough shift.” I leave him to go get ready.

I stare at the balloon. Why would someone go to such extremes? I pull on the pastel pink knit ribbed mini dress and pull the zip up to the middle of my cleavage

The only reason that comes to mind is that the man must be mental. Yep, he’s as crazy as a cannibalistic rabbit with swine flu. That’s the only explanation. I sit down, pull on my thick black leggings, and fasten the laces of my black Doc Martens.

I can get that a lunatic can become an obsessed stalker … but why me? Where have we met? And even more to the point … why me?

I’m not wearing makeup today, but add pink gloss to my lips.

I hear the beep of the intercom. Ren must be at the gate.

With one last twirl in front of the mirror, I grab my leather jacket — the one with the skull on the back and lots of patches — and swing it over my arm. Enrique brought it for me from Italy, one of my favorite items in my wardrobe. And it’s even more precious because Kiara hates absolutely everything about it.

She and Axel are comfy on the couch with blankets, pillows and what smells like hot chocolate. I wish I could just stay here and snuggle in between them. I’ll even watch Kiara’s movie choice, that’s how badly I don’t want to do this.

But it must be done.

“See you later, guys. Enjoy.” I throw my handbag over my shoulder. Axel turns his head and does a double-take.

“Hey, hey,” he yaps, “Are you going like THAT?” I look down at my clothes but don’t see any problems — no toilet paper sticking to my butt, no holes in my stockings, no stains on my dress …

“Is there something wrong?” I turn from side to side trying to scan every angle for a flaw. Now Kiara is also looking. She whistles through her teeth and then bites into her bottom lip.

“Eh,” Axel stutters with a slightly heated face, “Not wrong … " he scratches his cheek, “It’s just a little … eh hot … it’s not quite something I would like a girl to wear when she’s breaking up with me, you know,” he stutters. I look at the little long-sleeved ribbed dress.

“Too casual?” I inquire. Axel groans, but Kiara suddenly beams a bright wide smile.

“It’s perfect,” she sneers. “Absolutely-frickin-perfect.” Axel opens his mouth but she slams him on his chest hard enough to make him huff.

“Now go,” she yells and waves me off. I give my outfit one last look and then walk to the gate.

“Good afternoon, Miss Melaena,” Anton greets politely. “You look very nice today.” I give the elderly guard a warm smile. He opens the passenger door of Ren’s car and I get in.

“Hi,” Ren says as I fasten my safety belt, glaring a moment-and-a-half too long at my dress, and I feel an impertinent ping creeping down my spine to settle uncomfortably in my tummy.

“Babe,” he adds, swallowing down spit.

Between him and D, I’m seriously starting to hate cute pink piglets. I’m not sure exactly what it is about the pet word that drives me up the walls, but I am sure I despise it.

“Hi.” I’m as tense as a wine cork and I wonder when all this stress is going to pop and hit me in the face.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?” he asks after a while.

“Nothing, just …” I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t tell him about D so I lie, “ … some family issues.” I feel guilty about being distracted so I try to focus on him. I turn my body a little in the seat and look at him. He is sweating and pale — as if he’s feeling sick.

“You know,” he starts, keeping his eyes on the road. “When I was around 14, we visited Jason once.”

“How do you know him?”

“He’s actually family … his dad and mine are cousins once or twice removed or something.” I suppose I should have put two and two together sooner — they share the same surname.

He seems anxious, clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles. “But that’s not important. I came to visit him and fell in love …" My eyebrows shoot up. “With you.” What? We met before?

“Come again?” It comes out as a whisper. “We’ve met before?”

“You would not know, I only saw you from a distance.” I was not expecting this.

“You were … eh … one of Jason’s classmates.” Not by choice.

“Anyway, I thought you should know. I didn’t ask you out on just some random urge, I’ve wanted to do so for a very long time.” Is it bad that I suddenly feel sorry for him? I still think he’s not that bad a guy. The problem is me. I don’t feel anything romantic for him. Not even in the slightest.

“I know you think I’ve been moving a bit fast, but if you take into account that I’ve been waiting for years, it’s not that fast after all.” I guess he has a point. But he needs to understand mine.

“Ren, listen, I understand now why you’re thinking about a future together, but I’m not nearly ready for that stuff. I’m nineteen. It’s going to take me at the very least about 8 years to get there.” Maybe even ten.

“I suppose I can be a little more patient, maybe in a year or so you’ll feel differently.” No, I won’t. Although his talk about marriage and babies rattles me the f**k out, it’s not the real problem. Driving down Al Scoma Way, we’re in luck to find a parking spot right next to the restaurant.

Ren takes my arm, but I walk to some benches on the pier and sit down.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks uncertainly, his attitude still tense. I motion for him to sit down next to me. He does.

“No, this place is perfect. I just … eh … you’re the first guy to ask me out …” I stutter and mumble together. “Well except for the one that fell off his bike and started the curse — ”

“You mean the one Damion assaulted to prove a point,” he interrupts. Yeah, that.

“The thing is I’ve never done this before,” okay, a good start I guess, “So I’m not sure how to say this.” I really don’t know what I’m doing. And contrary to the belief that I’m tough and bitchy, I’m not nearly as mean as Kiara can be.

“Maybe just come out and say it.” His voice is as glacial as his impassive face. It’s as if he’s holding his breath.

In contrast, his chocolate eyes stare at me, eagerly hopeful, reminding me of how Jinx eyeballs the cookie jar. My brain mangles into a catastrophic mess that closes up my throat so no sound can escape. The result is me staring at him with a dropped jaw and huge eyes.

“Okay, I’ll need some words, ‘cause I’m not a mind reader and you are like a closed book to me. I never know what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft, almost pleading. Damion can read me.

‘I think you want a love that engulfs you. With someone real. Someone who understands your soul.’ His words jump to mind.

“Ren, this might sound stupid …” cause believe me Kiara for sure thinks so, “But I —”

“Hi, baby, where have you been?” A girl walks up to Ren, interrupting me, and throws her arms around him, kissing him full on the lips. He pushes her away, throws a quick glance at me, then wipes his mouth and, with an angry face, grunts, “What the hell, Julia?”

‘He’s cheating on you,’ I hear Damion’s voice again in my mind. Dammit. But then again, he’s not officially my boyfriend so he can see whomever he wants.

Julia frowns and looks me up and down — her face an expression of disgust as if I’m something the cat dragged in. Anger bursts through my veins, but I’m not here to get into a catfight over a guy I’m dumping. It’s just not worth it.

“Call me later, sweetheart.” She trails a finger along his cheek and then walks away with swaying hips and her nose in the air.

Ren looks uncomfortable and opens his mouth, “It’s not what it … “ he starts to explain, but I hold up my hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re not official.” But the slight anger attack boosts my courage. “I was going to say, that I want a love that engulfs me. With someone real. Someone who understands my soul.” I quote Damion’s words, thinking to myself, that if Ren knew this, he would probably explode his lid.

He’s now stiff as a board. I need to push through. “And you’re not that person.”

He exhales as if he got punched in the gut. “I’m sorry, Ren. Really I am. I wish a person could choose who you fall in love with, but you can’t.” He’s quiet for a beat.

“So does that mean you fell in love with someone?” he asks with a gruff voice.

“No, it’s not what this is about. I don’t know what the future holds, or who my soulmate will be.” I have an idea, but I’m not going to go there. “Love can not be forced.” You could easily fall for the person you hate.

“If you want, we can still be friends,” I try the cliche tactic.

He stands up, his handsome face pale and stricken.

“I can’t be your friend,” he says in a meek voice, “Please excuse me.” It takes me a moment to compute, but, by then, he’s already at his car. He gives me one last look.

Mindless dejection. That’s what I see when he tears out of the parking place. I stay seated for a moment or three, staring at the boats that are calmly fluxing to and fro, with no care in the world.

I’m in deep thought, trying to regain my composure, but mostly waiting for my noodle legs to stiffen enough to carry my weight when something wet presses against my leg.

“Frock!” I jump up, trip over something, fall over, and regain my balance all in one spectacular move.

“Woof.” I look down at the puppy sitting at my feet.

“Jinx?” I look around. There’s no big handsome badass in sight.

“Woof. Woof. Woof.” He keeps on barking, looking proudly up at me.

“Good boy,” Alejandro suddenly says behind me. “You found her.”

“Woof.” I turn around with a surprised smile, grateful for the distraction. And the company.

“What are you guys doing here?” He stares at me with icy blue eyes.

“Training. And you?” He stares at my dress the same way Axel has, but he doesn’t say anything. I scratch Jinx behind the ear and he leans into my legs.

“I’m trying to decide between having dinner by myself, or getting a take-away on the way home.” Alejandro turns his head towards the restaurant.

“There is another option … you could help me and Jinx with our training.”

“Training? In the restaurant?” He chuckles at my wavering question.

“A dog’s got to eat.”

“Woof,” the dog agrees.

“Well, who am I to stand between a pup and its food.” I’m still not sure dogs are allowed in restaurants, but what do I know? As soon as D-Boy gives his first step, Jinx heels on his left, and I do the same on the right, thinking that our love for food might just be something I have in common with the Doberman. We walk into Scoma’s Restaurant and Alejandro directs me to a table with a view while a delicious smell scoots through my nose and rumbles into my tummy. My mouth drools for what’s to come.

Jinx doesn’t leave his position on Alejandro’s side, his training too strong to break posture, but his little nose darts in the air, eagerly sniffing in the lavishing scent, eyes stuck on his man as if he’s genuinely concentrating to keep focus.

“You’re torturing the poor thing.” Jinx falls to the floor with a sigh, as soon as we take our seats.

“He’ll get his share, but he needs to learn to be agile no matter how big the distraction.”

And then my distraction walks straight towards us. With a woman melted into his side.

The girl is so beautiful, it’s annoying.

Her body is soaked into faded jeans with a loose emerald top that matches her smoldering eyes. She throws back a loose strand of whiskey-colored hair and struts a smile that could melt the Arctic.

But what’s cooking my goose is her arm — familiarly hooked around Damion’s as if she has every right to do that. Dammit. I will acknowledge — I’m frickin jealous.

“Hi,” she says holding out her hand, “You must be Mel.” Her greeting is warm and sincere. “I’m Thalia Green.” I feel rather green. And to make it worse, she seems nice, unlike his usual bitchy bimbos.

Damion and Alejandro nod at each other like civilized cavemen. Damion’s expression is as clear as day — utterly pissed off. As for the latter, he seems to harbor a yearning desire in his gaze. One I don’t understand.

“Girl, I LUUUVV the dress,” Thalia says smirking at Damion as if sharing an inside joke.

The boys are still on their stare-off, D-boy’s eyes sparkle with misconduct, not a single hint of fear in them, even though Damion looks as if he’s going to explode.

“Thanks.” I think. It’s tight and short, but plain and the zip is pulled up to a way decent level. I really don’t see the problem.

“Mel,” the devil is killing me with his eyes, I’m sure.

“Damion.” Without another word, they walk off. I peer after them with a bereaved look and Thalia looks back like a mouse in a cheese factory. Yeah, girl, you won.

“You know, my gran always says, if it has tires or testicles it’s going to give you trouble,” Alejandro snickers. “And he’s sort of both.”

Through the window I see him helping her with her helmet before they get onto his bike.

Trouble. That’s an understatement.

My phone vibrates and I slide it open.

D Stalker: Mayday! Mayday! A little biker took a tumble!

I jolt up and start running to the door, but they’re gone. A horrifyingly pathetic whimper comes from my throat.

My legs wobble and give way, and I brace myself with one hand as I fall onto my knees on the tar.