Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  There was a long pause, the men using the mirrors on the back of the bar to consider the other. Mason’s face went tight and hard, and he tipped his chin down finally with a drawn-out, “Fuuuucccck.” He got up and refilled their glasses before taking his seat again. “No, man, you are not. If you are interested in Mica, then you aren’t going to like this at all,” Mason said, staring down at the bar-top. “It’s your own fault, you cocksucking piss-ant. I can tell you that it won’t happen again, because I value her friendship so goddamn much, but she called me before dawn, crying from a nightmare…and when we were together…it was the most…just so much…” he paused and licked his lips “…so much…more there than has ever been with anyone else I have ever been with. I had to wait this long to find out there was such perfection in the world, and that’s just un-fucking-fair.” He paused. “I wanted her to not be afraid or so sad. I wanted to show her there was truth, and love, and beauty in the world. I wanted to show her herself, and how strong she is…and how fucking much she means to me.”

  He picked his head up and looked at Daniel. “It could have been you, man. It should have been you, even though it would have torn my heart in fucking two.” Mason pounded his chest with a closed fist. “I fucking treasure her like a diamond, man. I am so in awe of her and how strong she is, but she fucking called me, you lightweight little fucker; she called me…and you weren’t there. You were crying, ‘Oh, no, I had too many beers; I’ll scare my woman’. More like, ‘I’ll scare myself’, you goddamned asshat.” Closing his eyes, Mason blew a steady stream of air out through pursed lips, sat back on the barstool, and picked up his mug again for a drink.

  Daniel looked at Mason warily. “Mason, I don’t know if you are mad at me, or yourself, but I need you to tell me what has happened. She’s not hurt, right? I got that part, but you were with her, and while I think I understand, I need some help.”

  Mason raked his fingers back through his thick hair, disheveling it even more and making it stand straight up from his head. “She’s okay, not hurt. She’s at work right now, and Jess is with her, but, Daniel, she needs someone in her life she can count on. For too long, that’s been me in a lotta ways, but there was never anything sexual between us before. When I met her, when she first moved in next door to me, I thought sex would be what I wanted—could’ve been all I wanted from her at first, but then I got to know her and we became friends. I found that her friendship is so arrow fucking true, just straight through my heart, and I didn’t want to fuck that up. She means too much, just too much, man, and now, because of you, I know…you know? But I won’t go there again, because I really want her friendship. I want to be good for her, be there for her when she needs me, and I think I’m better for her with a little distance. She deserves someone better than me. Like I said,” tapping his chest with a stiff finger, “she’s a fucking treasure to me.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Let me get this right. You are mad at me, because you had sex with Mica—”

  Mason interrupted him, pointing a strong finger and barking, “Made love.”

  Nodding, Daniel corrected himself, “…because you made love with Mica after she called you when she had a nightmare. But you didn’t want to ‘make love’ to her, because you value her friendship, and don’t want the drama and tension of an intimate relationship to tear that apart. So you are pointing me her way, hoping I’ll be good for her.” Spreading his hands in the air, he asked, “Is that about it?”

  “Fucking right,” Mason growled. “If you had just stayed with her, I wouldn’t be sitting here wondering if I fucked up totally and if she’ll be avoiding me like she did before she trusted me. I wouldn’t be wondering if she was safe all the time, because I’d fucking know she was safe, because she’d fucking be here. I wouldn’t feel like kicking your ass right now, either, and goddammit, I could seriously go a round or two with you. I love her, man, and have for years, but I’m not the man for her. I know it, and so does she. I can be a goddamn remarkable friend for her, and I am, and I will be…but I’d screw up courting her so fucking fast.”

  Sitting up straighter on the barstool, taking a deep drink from his warming beer, Daniel asked, “So, Mason, if I was going to ask her out, would that be okay with you?”

  Mason grinned at him, some of the cloud lifting from his eyes. “Fucking A, Daniel,” his face sobered, “but if you hurt her, I tell you truthfully right fucking now, you will answer not only to me, but to about 60 of my brothers.” Tapping that stiffened finger against Daniel’s chest this time. “She’s precious to us all, and you better not fucking forget it.”

  31 -

  Freak out

  In the conference room, with her shoes kicked off and sitting cross-legged on the upholstered casual chair, Mica was staring at the design images projected onto the wall. “Dim the lights a little more, would ya?” she asked Jess without turning around, and reached out to the conference phone to punch in a number. “He’s already sharing his screen, but I can’t get him to pick up,” she said distractedly, listening as the ringing went on until it was cut off by the voicemail picking up. She punched the phone off again, sighing.

  “Oohhh, let’s watch; maybe he doesn’t know we’re peeping in on him. Who knows what he might show us!” Jess laughed. “Wouldn’t it be nice to get something over on Gentry for a change?” She reached back and tugged the lighting adjuster down a little, darkening the room a slight bit more, allowing the images from the computer to show in better contrast. Jess was seated in a more typical conference room chair, but she had kicked off her shoes too and was swinging her legs back and forth like a little girl in a swing.

  “What the hell?” Mica murmured, eyeing the screen and seeing pictures of herself on Gentry’s computer. “Where were those pictures taken, Jess? Did you post them to Facebook, or Pinterest, or something?” The pictures were mostly taken from a distance, and they weren’t the usual portrait composition. She realized nervously that all the pictures pretty much only featured her. Casual photos of her walking and talking on her phone, getting into or out of her car, standing outside the office, or getting onto the train. These photos slid past quickly, flicking through a dozen or so in less than a minute.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jess shaking her head back and forth in a negative response to the question. She was looking at the screen closely, and there was a look on her face Mica couldn’t place. Mica tried to focus on the screen, trying to make sense out of the next set of images that flashed up there, even as they slowed in progression.

  She heard a click in the room, but couldn’t look away. There was an image of her against a brick wall. Her mouth was open, and one hand flying up to the back of her head. She was surrounded by shadowy figures softly out of focus.

  Another one in the same setting, clothes and neck bloody, she was crouching against that brick wall. Mason was standing in front of her, frozen in the exact moment his fist hit someone in the face, his own face drawn into a rictus of fury.

  Glancing at Jess, Mica still didn’t know what she was thinking as she focused back on the screen.

  There was another photo of Mica in someone’s arms, being carried towards the photographer. Her arms and legs were hanging loose and awkward, Mason running out of frame towards a car. The photos slowed even more, each staying on the screen for longer than the one before. Next, Mica was sleeping in a hospital bed, lying with her head slightly elevated and her arm in a sling. This was the closest the photographer had been to the subject of his lens so far.

  Hearing another click, Mica looked at Jess as she took a picture of the screen with her phone. Shaking her head, she looked back up at the picture projected on the wall—Mica in a wheelchair next to Mason’s car, going home from the hospital. Click.

  Mica in a booth at Jackson’s, an arm entering the frame with the hand behind her neck, her hair hanging across her face. Click.

  Mica being carried through her front door, the camera angled to see a car at the curb and a man standing in
side her house. Click.

  Here her skin chilled into goose bumps, because the next photo was of Mica sitting in her house on the window seat, looking straight at the camera. She stood, all of a sudden, feeling the panic beginning to set in. Looking around wildly, she saw Jess still taking pictures of the screen.

  A picture of Mica walking down the street in her coat, head down and earbuds in. In frame, you could see a car idling at the curb ahead of her, with a shadowy face turned towards her from inside the car. That was Mason’s car. Click.

  Mica, her mouth open in a laugh, looking up at Mason, walking beside him and carrying a bag of groceries into his house. Click.

  Mica standing in the dark on her back porch face-to-face with a figure. That figure’s hands were cupping her jaw, and she was facing, but not looking at the camera. Click.

  Mason stepping out of her front door into the snow in what looked like low light, no shirt or shoes, a sick look on his face. Click.

  Mica walking to the door of the office from the elevator. Click.

  “That’s from this morning, Jess! Look at the clothes!” she yelled, pointing down at herself. The same jacket, light blue shirt, blue jeans, and white converse sneakers were on her body, just as they were in the photo on the screen. “That was about twenty minutes ago!”

  The photos froze on the screen, and she saw the mouse moving across the computer, dragging the images into an email as attachments. She watched as an email address was entered, but couldn’t make out the characters that would tell her who would get those pictures. A short subject line was typed; it looked like one word, maybe ‘photos’. She saw the mouse cursor hit ‘Send’, and then the window the pictures were in closed unexpectedly, leaving a web design on the screen. It was one of the designs Gentry was working on for her.

  Behind her, in the main office, her phone began ringing. Looking hard at Jess, she punched the pickup code into the conference phone and heard Gentry say, “Mica, I thought you were going to call me. Are you ready to start? I’ve got my screen shared so we can review the three most critical designs.”

  Mica froze for a moment, thinking hard about what she had seen on the screen. “Gentry, sorry, give me a sec. I’m having computer issues.” She hit the mute button and stared at Jess. “Tell me what we just saw was freaky, Jess. That was freaky, right? Really, seriously freaky? Those were pictures of me. There were so many pictures of me. That was freaky.”

  Jess looked at her with wide eyes. “Freaky isn’t a strong enough word, Mica. Freaky is about fifteen levels below where we are. Is it okay to freak out, girly? Because I think I’m already there.”

  Nodding her head, Mica made a decision and hit the mute button again. “Gentry, I need to reschedule. Either Jess or I will let you know what works for us, and we can get going again. Thanks.” She hit the end button next, and cut Gentry off in mid-protest.

  “How many pictures did you take? Do you think you got them all?” she asked. “And yes, it’s okay to freak out, really. I’m going to in 3, 2…1. Take a deep breath and let it out.”

  ***

  A while later, they were both still in the conference room. They were looking at the screen, and watching the photos scroll across as The Lumineers sang quietly about submarines in the background. This time, the pictures were from Jess’ phone hooked to the projector. The women were taking their time studying each photo, speaking quietly, and trying to dissect the locations and events that had been captured in the pictures. Both of them were looking at the screen so intently they didn’t hear the outer door open, and were shocked into little yelps and screams when a voice spoke from the conference room doorway.

  “What the hell is that supposed to be, Mica?” Daniel asked, pointing at the screen. The photo displayed was of him carrying Mica to his car in the alley after the attack. He looked shocked to see the image of him, with blood smeared down the arm tucked under her thighs.

  32 -

  Projections

  Jess startled and twitched uncontrollably, and the image was replaced with the one of Mason leaving Mica’s house half-naked, a regretful and contemplative look on his face. Jess smacked wildly at her phone, and the picture shifted to Daniel and Mica on her back porch, standing in an intimate pose that left little question about the passion of the kiss they had shared. “Goddammit,” she squeaked, reaching over and hitting the power button on the projector.

  Mica stood up, looking steadily at him. “Daniel,” she said quietly.

  Nothing more than one word, his name…just that, giving him little to go on as he looked back and forth from her to Jess. “What were…where did you get those pictures?” His mind was racing frantically; what was she up to with the pictures of him and Mason. He was getting exasperated at the lack of response from her, and so he turned to Jess. “Who took those pictures, Jess? Why are there pictures of Mason and me on your phone like that? Are you following me?”

  “Those pictures weren’t of you, Daniel; they are of me—well, mostly just of me.” Daniel turned to look at Mica as she spoke. “I don’t know who took them. I’m still digesting all of this, and I…I just need some coffee. I’ll be right back.” With that, Mica swept out of the room.

  Chewing on the inside of his lip, Daniel considered Jess for a few minutes, using his best game day glare, silently watching as she finally looked away and picked up her phone, disconnecting it from the projector to make a call. He stripped off his coat, tucking his gloves into the pockets and flinging it on the floor along the base of the wall.

  Turning back to stare him in the face, after a moment, she quietly said into the phone, “Mason, she needs you here,” and hung up the call.

  “What the fuck, Jess?” He scowled at her. “Why’d you call Mason? I’m right here,” he pointed at himself, “so what is going on? I could help, if I only knew what the problem was.”

  She stood and marched towards him, frowning tightly and lifting her upper lip a little, sneering, “That’s right; you are standing right here…right…here…and she walked away. What does that tell you? Anything about her state of mind? Do you think she wants to talk to you about this? No way. No fucking way. You are just the guy who took her to the hospital. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just some random guy, who happened to be present on what turned out to be a very bad day in her life. You are not a friend. You are not a fixture in her world. I personally think you don’t have anything she needs. Nothing. Remember, you let her walk away. No fuss, no muss.” Shaking her head, she repeated, “Not what she needs.”

  Daniel was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. Not being one to back down from a challenge, he took a step away from the doorway and towards her. “I am not just some guy, Jess. I like Mica. I like her a lot, and I think there’s something going on here that I can help with. So I’m not going away, and your little hissy fit doesn’t prove anything.” He rubbed the back of one hand across his mouth. “I mean…seriously? What the hell, Jess? I walk in, and you guys are looking at pictures of private moments and horrible events like they were nothing, like they meant nothing. Are they simply images to wallpaper the office with?” He took a deep breath. “Could you please tell me what is going on? Because I gotta tell you, this has been a weird fucking morning.” They stood staring at each other for a couple of minutes, not talking.

  Mica walked back into the conference room with a tray that held four cups of coffee and a small plate of mini-cupcakes. She announced, “I’m sitting; you can both stand if you want. Jess, hand me your phone, please.” Reaching out for the device, she attached it to the projector again. Turning them both on, she took one of the coffee cups in-hand, faced the wall, and asked, “Is Mason coming?”

  “Mason’s here, babe,” came the deep reply as he walked into the room. He moved to stand behind her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, his leather jacket creaking with his movements. “Jess, you called. What’s up?”

  Daniel watched with jealousy as Mica relaxed into Mason’s hands. She reached up to touch one of t
hem with her fingertips, and tilted her head to trap it momentarily between her cheek and shoulder.

  Mica answered the question. “Jess and I have acquired some photos that are seriously odd, Mason. I want to know what both you and Daniel think of them.” Wriggling her forefinger at the remaining cups on the tray, she looked at Jess until she got the idea and distributed the coffee around the table. Jess popped one of the mini-cupcakes into her mouth. She sat another one pointedly in front of Mica, who snatched it up and ate it, still looking at Jess, asking snarkily, “Better?” Breaking the glare, she reached a hand out towards Daniel and pointed to the chair behind Jess. “Sit if you want to, but here we go.”

  She pulled up the pictures Jess had taken of the screen, starting with the very first one—a simple one of her getting out of her car. “This morning, Jess and I had connected to a screen-share conference a little early. These photos started showing up on the computer screen as we were waiting to dial in on the phone. Jess had enough sense about her to take snapshots of the pictures, and that’s what we are looking at—not the real photos, but pictures of the images projected. Actually, we are looking at projections of the projected images.” A near-hysterical giggle tried to surface, but she fought it back down.

  She shook her head, clearly trying to focus. “As best as I can tell, this one was taken several weeks ago. It’s from outside Jackson’s at lunchtime, as I headed in for food.” She looked around the table; Mason was the only one still standing. As his fingers tightened reflexively on her shoulders, she realized he wasn’t going to let go unless she made him. “Mason, can you sit please? I’m a little freaked out here.”