Defense Mechanisms

RAINEY

“I’m not sure you caught my question.”

The guy who was just sitting shotgun is now standing before us, hands casually tucked in his pockets, chin lifted in a show of arrogance.

“Where the hell is your brother?”

Ansel doesn’t seem fazed. He’s staring back at the guy, his face a mask of indifference.

“And why would I know that?” he finally replies, his voice low but commanding as he meets the guy’s gaze head-on.

“Just give him the message, Ken. We don’t have all night,” the driver instructs, now leaning against the Subaru, puffing on his joint.

The smoke rudely assaults my senses, and I wave it away, grimacing at the blatant disrespect. He grins smugly, raking his eyes over me with a lewd look.

“Tell him this…” Ken steps closer to Ansel, his brows furrowed. “My boss is in the know now. So he either coughs up the cash or your whole family is in for a wild ride.”

Despite the threat, Ansel’s face remains impassive. Ken’s gaze then shifts to me, and he snorts. “And your girl will be in danger too.”

I shoot him a glare. I think he was trying to scare me, but I wasn’t joking when I told Ansel I’m not scared of thieves or gangs.

I secretly don’t mind him thinking I’m Ansel’s girl or whatever. But ~babe~? Seriously? I despise being called ~babe~ and ~baby~ more than anything.

“Make sure he gets the message.” Ken’s thin lips twist into a vile smile before he kicks Ansel’s bike over.

Finally, Ansel’s expression changes.

Anger.

Ken notices this too, and his smirk widens, pleased that he could provoke such a reaction. He smugly pulls a cigarette from his pocket.

“Your girlfriend is pretty,” he chuckles before turning away to light his joint. He nods to his buddy. “Let’s roll.”

The guys start to move toward the car, but Ansel lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“First my tires, now this. Hey, you’re not done here yet.”

I glance at him, and Ken finally gets his cigar lit and turns around, staring at Ansel with amusement. “What did you say?”

“My bike,” he replies calmly. “You need to pick up my bike.”

Ken studies Ansel for a moment, then bursts into laughter. His friend joins in, and they’re both doubled over, faces red with mirth.

They finally calm down, but grins still play on their faces as Ken steps closer to Ansel.

“Look at this little shit. Got some balls, huh?”

Ansel’s face is stone as he stares at the boy before him. “I don’t see what’s so funny about picking up a bike.”

“Joe, are you seeing this?” Ken glances back at his laughing buddy before turning back to Ansel, his jaw set. “This guy wants to challenge me. You sure about that?”

“Pick up my bike. That’s all I’m asking. Or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

I look at him. The danger in his voice makes him even more attractive.

Ken smirks, tossing his cigar aside. “What if I don’t?” He gets in Ansel’s face. “What you gonna do if I don’t?”

They stare each other down for a moment before Ansel speaks.

“I might have to rearrange your face.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and Ken laughs again, looking back at his goofy friend, who’s grinning as he takes a drag from his joint.

He cocks his head to the side, amused. “Well, that’s interesting. I’d love to see that. So I guess I’ll just ~not~ pick up the bike then.”

He spreads his arms wide, grinning mockingly, his tongue lolling out.

Something tells me Ken has a death wish, because the look on Ansel’s face is so intense it sends a chill down my spine.

He shrugs. “Your call.”

A dark look crosses Ken’s face as he picks up on the threat in Ansel’s voice.

He raises his fist to throw the first punch, but Ansel quickly grabs his wrist and lands a solid punch to his nose.

I hear the crunch of bone, then Ken doubles over in pain, clutching his face as he yells out.

“Ah, damn it!”

My jaw drops, and Joe’s expression mirrors mine as he stares wide-eyed at the scene.

“Pick up my bike,” Ansel orders again.

“Ah, you bastard!” Ken straightens up, massaging his bleeding nose, his face contorted in pain.

He looks at the blood on his fingers and laughs. “Ha, you think one punch makes you a champ. Huh?”

Ansel rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh as he glares at the bleeding boy. He looks impatient as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his plaid pants.

Joe’s face hardens as he stands up from the car, tossing his cigar aside as he slowly moves to help his buddy.

“Let’s see how you handle both of us, you jerk,” Ken spits, balling his fists and raising them.

“Uh…Ansel?”

“It’s okay,” he reassures me.

They charge at him, and I step back, taking in the scene. Ansel grabs Ken by the neck while he kicks Joe in the stomach.

Joe goes flying against his car, and Ansel takes the opportunity to punch Ken in the face. I watch in disbelief as Ansel takes on both guys.

Everything becomes a blur. Ansel is handling both guys with ease, and the fight has become so intense that I’m afraid he might actually kill one of them.

Joe’s crumpled on the ground, hurting, while Ansel’s on top of Ken, landing punch after punch.

I see Joe struggle to his feet, wiping the blood streaming from his head out of his eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something shiny and sharp.

I squint, and my eyes widen in shock when I realize what it is: a knife.

Joe’s limping towards Ansel, who’s too focused on Ken to notice the danger behind him. I scan the area, then grab a large rock from the corner of the fence.

I’m not one to stand by and watch someone I care about get stabbed in the back. ~Someone I care about.~

I run over, and just as Joe raises his hand to stab Ansel, I slam the rock into his head.

“Fuck!”

Joe’s groan makes Ansel turn from Ken to me.

“You little bitch!”

Joe’s on the ground again, clutching his head and crying out in pain. Ansel’s eyes move from me to the rock in my hand, a look of surprise and admiration on his face.

I shift awkwardly. “Uh, he had a knife…”

He smiles, his eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

I give him a small smile.

Ken’s groan pulls Ansel’s attention back to him, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he leans over to whisper in Ken’s ear.

“Now, are you ready to pick my bike up?”

Ken swallows, looking like a beaten puppy as he glares up at Ansel through swollen eyes.

Ansel lets go of Ken’s shirt collar as Ken stumbles over to the bike. He picks it up reluctantly, then rushes over to help Joe into the Subaru.

“We aren’t done!” Ken shouts. “You will regret doing this!”

He jumps behind the wheel, and the car speeds off down the road.

The street is quiet again, the only sounds the whistling wind and the distant chirping of crickets. Ansel sighs, then flops down onto the concrete sidewalk.

He adjusts his glasses, then winces as he looks at his hand. I sit down next to him, and the sight of his bruised knuckles makes my eyes widen in concern.

Without thinking, I take his hand in mine, examining his cracked knuckles. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding. We should get this cleaned up. We should go to a hospital.”

I look up at him, worried, but his expression is completely different.

He’s smiling, his black hair falling over his right eye from the fight. He’s so attractive it makes me swallow hard.

I realize how I must look, and I pull my hand back.

“It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine,” he says, trying to hide a grin.

I bite my lip. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad.”

“No, I just need a band-aid and I’ll be fine. Ken and Joe are probably the ones who need to go to a hospital. Considering how big that rock was,” he chuckles.

I smile a little. “I couldn’t just stand by while he cheated.”

“Thanks.” His eyes sparkle as he looks at me.

He’s doing it again. He’s looking into my eyes, and it feels like he’s seeing more than I’m showing.

I swallow and look away. “So, um, who were those guys?”

“Uh…just some guys who have some business with my brother.”

His voice is low, and he doesn’t seem eager to talk about this. I can tell he doesn’t want to discuss it, but I can’t help but ask.

“Your brother?” I tilt my head. “You mean Alex?”

Suddenly, I see a car speeding towards us. I can’t make out what kind it is from this distance. Is this more trouble?

My question is answered when a Chevrolet Chevelle pulls up under the dim streetlight.

Ansel jumps to his feet as Alex gets out of the car and runs over to us. I stand up, brushing off my skirt.

“Dude, Max just told me that Ken and Joe came here looking for Alaric.”

~Who’s Alaric? I’m confused. Maybe I should just mind my own business. Nothing is making sense.~

“Yeah, they were just here. Don’t worry, I handled it.” Ansel glances at me. “With some help from Rain.”

I give him a small smile. I didn’t do much.

Alex’s eyes widen comically. “Oh, so you were the hottie that hit Joe in the head with that huge rock?”

“Uh…the last part is correct.”

“Damn!” Alex grins. “That’s cute.”

Ansel smiles. “Anyway, you should head home now, Rain. It’s late.”

“Now that she did something like that, they might start coming after her too,” Alex mutters, scratching his head.

“They won’t. Even if they do, they can’t do anything to her. Not while I’m here,” Ansel says, and I look up at him.

Alex smiles softly, looking between us before sighing, his breath visible in the cold air.

“It’s cold out here. Are you guys ready to go home or what? Ma made stewed chicken, Ansel. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

I laugh.

“Are you ever not hungry?” Ansel teases, shaking his head as we head towards the car.