Overexposed

Someday

Chapter 13: Someday

Haz walks away with confidence, but I can't deny the sinking feeling in my stomach. What if he gets hurt? What if he DIES? Of course, these are things that seem to constantly be running through my mind, but they still retain every ounce of potency I experienced the first time.

Sighing, feeling as if I'm actually tearing myself away from the ground where my feet had been, I follow my curly haired friend's instructions and find Tommo, apparently interrupting the conversation he's having with three men I've never seen before.

"What?" he asks tartly, though lacking his usual hostility, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've been asked to shadow you- at least until Haz is done," my voice drops to a whisper because I have no idea what audience we're keeping, considering the three guys have decided to stick around.

"Why?" Tommo sounds offended or maybe simply irritated.

I motion for him to stoop down a bit so I can whisper, "I kind of, maybe, punched Montreal when I saw him earlier."

"You WHAT-?"

"It was outside the forest!" I work to quickly justify myself, taking a step back to avoid any splashes of wrath. "Haz said it was practically Head Rush territory still!"

The anger fades from the bronze haired man's... my brother's eyes, "How hard did you hit him?"

"Knocked him flat on his ass," I can't help the smirk, letting my left hand rest on my hip, bringing the right up to show him the spider webbed pattern of blood under the skin around my knuckles.

"Princess, you have a MAJOR death wish," he shakes his head, but I think I catch a glimpse of a rare, REAL smile. He nods his farewell to the other people around us and motions for me to follow his lead.

As we walk towards the edge of the racetrack, I can't help but glance around, looking for the man with the scars and now probably a bruise on his face as well. Oddly, I don't see him.

Tommo has us come to a stop about halfway down the straight strip of track nearest the cabin, further from the rest of the crowd than would casually be necessary. My companion doesn't touch me, but it's like I can feel his presence all around my person. If I was someone looking onto the scene, I'd say it created an atmosphere of tension, maybe aggression or irritation.

But I now have a cursory understanding of the guy and I recognize the almost undetectable nuances, his body language, his expression, the context. I can tell the presence I feel, heavy though it may be, is a veil of protection.

His gaze flicks about constantly and I can sense the readiness to grab his gun if need be as if it's radiating off of his person.

I'm abruptly grateful for Tommo's acceptance of Haz's and my agreement, his lack of protest at the off-putting of possible plans he had. Furthermore, I can't help but feel shame for all of the judgements I have made about him. His coldness, intensity, his uncaring. Looking back, I realize that he hasn't been all too bad to me.

First off, Tommo hadn't killed me when POGs brought me back to the warehouse, which I now know is something not many other gang leaders would do. Then, he let me stay when I had nowhere else to go. He gave me a place, a job, and a family. Hell, the guy even let me share his wardrobe.

And now he's standing guard, my big brother watching over me. The idea brings a small smile to my lips and I'm about to feel like we're having a moment- a good one, a bonding between siblings that have otherwise been remarkably indifferent to each other, but then I see the redheaded girl.