CHAPTER TWENTY.

Welcome to Oregon.

Well it was about time.

I grinned, listening to Vic enthusiastically sing along with the radio. I loved it when he did that, because he did all the small details – all the screams, pauses and even accents – and besides, he was really talented. I seriously wondered why he didn’t become a singer, he was great at it.

“…You wanna be tough, better do what you can, so beat it, but you want to be bad…”, he did what he thought was a Michael Jackson move, but he just managed to look sillier. “Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it, no one wants to be defeated! Showin' how funky and-”

“We’re in Oregon now, by the way.”, I informed him, trying not to giggle and ruin his “performance”.

“Great, whatever.”, he murmured absent-mindedly and kept singing, slightly dancing in his seat. “It doesn't matter who's wrong or right! Just beat it…”

“Beat it,” I sang the backing vocals. This made him grin wider.

“Just beat it,”

“Beat it…”

“Just beat it! C’mon, don’t stop!”

“Beat it!”, I tried louder with a giggle.

“Just beat it!... Well done, Kell, well done.”, he winked. “Don’t forget, you still need to sing for me. Remember our deal? You already got your drawings. I want my song.”

“I think I already have something very special in mind, but we’ll see…”, I glanced at him, then looked back at the roadside signs, indicating where the nearby cities are, and turned right.

“Very special? Aw, man, I’m touched.”, Vic put his hand on his chest and let out a deep sigh, grinning like an idiot, obviously to show how touched he was.

“You silly idiot.”, I laughed. “Stop distracting me, you don’t want us to get hit again, right?”

“Oops, yeah, sorry.”, he smiled a bit, fixing his cap. After a week of taking care of each other, he didn’t need a bandage anymore, but on his forehead was left a big, lacerated scar. I could tell it was going to vanish after awhile, but by the time it wasn’t looking very pretty, so Vic liked to keep it under his hat. It didn’t matter to me, though, I thought he looked handsome either way, but I agreed that it would attract too much attention, so it was better if it remained hidden.

I kept humming along, lightly drumming on the steering wheel with my fingers. In moments like this, my life seemed so perfect, I almost forgot that I have about four weeks left to live. Four weeks. Damn, that was… that was just not enough. I wanted more time with Vic, I needed more time with him, I craved for it, but I knew I wasn’t going to get it. Death can’t be put off. I thought back of the days I had spent with him, and I realized that I shouldn’t regret it, though – I got probably more than I actually deserved. That was the most beautiful friendship, partnership, relationship I’ve ever had.

We spent the last week looking after each other, drinking pills and resting, sometimes watching TV, reading, or… enjoying each other’s company, if you know what I mean. Once Vic was better, he drew me a few more sketches, but not portraits, just random things I requested him. I loved to watch him draw, he looked so concentrated, so into his stuff that he barely noticed what was going on around him. Of course, he’d throw a joke or two, too, because that was Vic, he simply couldn’t stay serious for more than, like, three seconds. Another thing I loved about him. Hell, I think I loved everything about him. I wasn’t going to let him know that, though. It was better to keep things this way, otherwise it would be really hard for both of us.

Feeling a movement next to me got me out of my thoughts just in time to see him headbang like crazy. I laughed.

“Dude, how many coffees have you drunk today?!”

“Um…”, he pretended to be thinking. “I think I lost their count at the thirty-fifth.”

“You’re such a jerk.”, I shook head with a grin, but we both knew I didn’t mean it.

“Perhaps.”, he shrugged, chuckling.

I looked at him and smiled as our eyes met. His naturally curly hair was falling around his face and freely onto his shoulders, and his fringe, now even longer than it was when we first met, was almost fully covering his hurt forehead. The late afternoon sun was throwing soft, warm light over him, slightly changing his eyes’ color from deep brown, through hazel to almost yellow, and they were playfully sparkling in enthusiasm. Noticed how I’m staring at him, Vic grinned, lightly blushing.

“Watch. Your. Fucking. Road. Kellin.”, he gently touched my chin and turned my head towards the windshield.

“Stop distracting me and I will!”, I giggled, taking another turn.

“Oh, I’m distracting you? How so?”

“You’re distracting me with your face.”, I insisted, amused. “You should be ashamed.”

“Well, okay, sorry then, I will rip it off whenever I get the chance.”, he helplessly waved his hands in the air, trying to keep a serious expression on his face.

“Want some help?”, I poked him, teasing him. “Okay, whatever, let’s be serious. Be serious, Vic.”

“Hah! Look who says it.”, Victor rolled eyes. “Because you’re the mooost serious person alive, right.”

“True. I’m serious, responsible, reliable, and nice. Guys like me are rare, you must feel honored to even know me.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep lying to yourself, Kell, keep trying.”, my boyfriend allowed himself another grin. “Anyway. What were you gonna tell me?”

“I was about to say,” I continued, trying to sound formal to confirm my statement (that I’m serious, responsible and stuff), “that I need to inform you that we are almost out of gas.”

Vic furrowed his eyebrows, pretty much ignoring my silly behavior, too used to my shit to be impressed.

“Didn’t we stop for a refill a few miles back?”, he asked, tilting head.

“Are you kidding me? It was, like, ages ago, after we left the hotel. Where have you been the rest of the time?!”

“Huh. I don’t know, man, I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. I can check the map, if you want, maybe there’s written where the nearest gas station is.”

I waved my hand. “Nah, don’t worry, we’ll find it, eventually. We can get some food there too, ‘cause I’ve started to get hungry.”

“You shouldn’t eat unhealthy stuff, though.”, Victor reminded me. “You gotta be careful, the food poisoning might be gone, but you don’t want to provoke your stomach to start hurting again, do you? Besides, we can’t be sure if you’ve completely healed. So yeah.”

“I know, I know. I don’t want to get worse, too, so it would be better to keep a diet or something. And,” I raised a finger, “I’m going back to being vegetarian, I don’t care what my doctors say.”

“Alright, from now on I’ll only get you only salad burgers, then, bunny.”, he joked.

I frowned. “Nooo, I don’t like salad!”, I objected. “And don’t call me that!”

“With extra pickles.”, he added, his grin widening.

“No, I don’t like pickles either!”

“Shh, calm down, I’m just kidding.”, Vic shook his head. “What, you think that even though I spent a whole month with you and bought food for you, like, one hundred times, or even more, I still don’t know what you like and don’t like eating? Seriously, Kell?”

“It’s impossible to have bought food for me one hundred times, I mean, each month has thirty, or sometimes thirty-one days. In our case it’s thirty. I eat about two times a day, because the rest of the time we’re on the road. So if you multiply thirty by two you’ve got sixty, and you haven’t bought food even half of the times. Anyway, let’s say you did, to make the thing easier. So that means you must have done it about… what, fifteen times? Simple math, dude.” I leaned back on my seat, and if I didn’t have to hold the wheel, I would cross arms, slightly proud of myself.

“Fifteen? Seriously? Your calculations suck, Kellin, really.”, he chuckled, somewhat mockingly.

“Nope, they don’t. You’re just too stupid to get it.”

Of course, I knew my calculations sucked, I was kidding the whole time anyway. And Vic got it, but he just liked teasing me. Not that I minded it – it was fun when we teased each other.

“I might be too stupid, but I’m observant.”, he said in his defense.

“Bullshit, you wouldn’t notice a potential danger until it’s so close that it can slap you in the face, and even in those cases you might miss it.”, I laughed.

Vic didn’t reply, instead he simply pointed at something in the distance.

“Gas station.”, he announced.

I narrowed eyes, searching for it.

“Where?”

“Right there.”, he pointed again, then grinned. “…See? Observant.”

“Real Sherlock Holmes, no shit.”, I let out a short laughter. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit it. You’re observant.”

“Why thank you.”, Victor grinned.

“And not stupid, in fact.”, I added, casting him another smile. “Sometimes a pain in the ass, indeed, but absolutely adorable most of the time.”

“Aw, stop it, you. I know you start with the compliments every time you want something.”, he giggled.

I thought about it for a moment. “…Not always.”, I half-agreed. “Not this time, at least.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief.”

“…Except a pack of chips. And a beer. And something chocolate.”

“I knew you wanted something!”, Vic shook his head, laughing again. “And nope, you’re not getting any of those. Remember what we talked about unhealthy food?”

I widened my eyes and looked at him innocently.

“But chips and chocolate are both healthy! And beer, especially the beer.”

“Not to you.”, he wasn’t going to give up.

“Oh, come on, man.”, I rolled eyes, seemingly annoyed, but actually quite amused. “You can’t tell me what to eat and what not to eat, you’re not my mom!”

“Damn right about that, I’m your boyfriend, who likes our new car, and doesn’t want you to start throwing up all over it when your stomach fucks up again.”, he grinned, knowing he won the argument.

“We can always steal another one, you know.”, I shrugged, not sure if I was joking or I was serious about it. Maybe both.

“Hell yeah, we’re the Bonnie and Clyde of our century, after all, we do whatever we want!”, Vic crossed his arms.

“Including eating unhealthy food despite our stomach problems!”, I added hopefully.

“Everything except that”, he threw me a warning look.

Aw, here he goes again. He obviously enjoyed mothering me for some reason, and funny thing was that most of the time I was the one, who was watching over him. Anyway, even though I pretended it annoyed me, I actually liked it when he did that, it made me feel safe and protected. I had never had a real family, really, none of my parents had taken care of me this way in my whole life, so until now I barely knew how it feels like. The way he surrounded me with care and concern just made me feel loved, it made me feel important.

…However, at this exact moment I certainly didn’t like his mothering tone. I knew he was probably only teasing me, but I felt the need to keep objecting. I’m not sure who won the argument in the end, but I guess it was me, because Vic shut up soon and returned to singing with the radio.

A few minutes later we reached the gas station. It didn’t look much used – there weren’t many people around, just a few bored attendants, and a bunch of rockers, who had left their bikes for a refuel and now were talking loudly about something I didn’t quite want or care to hear. I parked our car, talked to one of the gas station attendants for a minute, and then entered the store to buy the chips and beer in question. Of course, I didn’t forget to take my bag with me, because my money and my gun were there, so were my precious pills I had sworn I would never lose again.

The place itself was as dusty as if it had gone through a sand storm, even though we were in Oregon and sand storms weren’t exactly an usual occurrence here. A man, half-asleep, was standing behind the counter and was lazily rearranging some magazines. I threw them a glance, but I wasn’t interested, they were mostly porn or from the “home and garden” kinda things. Not what I consider as an interesting read. Although it was still at daytime, the weak neon lamps were already on, and some of them were flickering, creating this certain feeling of uneasiness.

I looked out of the window to see Vic standing near the car, waiting for me. When he saw me, he smiled and waved me, then turned to the employee and told him something. The rockers were still there, discussing something near their motorbikes, and I noticed one of them was carrying the same bag as mine. I chuckled, wondering what he keeps there, and what he would think if he knew that right now, in a bag absolutely identical to his, are being kept weapons, stolen money and different kinds of medications. Or if he knew that one of what people thought were the two most dangerous criminals of our time, was standing just a few feet away from him.

I took a few more moments to watch my boyfriend and admire him from a distance, then crossed the shop, looking for something good enough for me to eat. There were only two brands of chips and they both sucked, so I got a pack of some sort of chocolate cookies, a coke, and a bottle of water and a Snickers for Vic. Before leaving, though, I decided to drop by the bathroom. I mean, y’know. Long road, lots of drinks… I stuffed the things I had just bought in the bag and headed there.

I was just opening the door, when one of the rockers basically rushed out and stumbled over me. The feeling was like being attacked by a small, long-haired, tattooed mountain. Perhaps I was just too short for his standards, so he didn’t see me, but that didn’t change the fact that I tripped in his foot and only my quick reflexes stopped me from falling down on the ground. I gasped and, to grab the wall and keep myself up, I dropped my bag. I murmured a curse.

“Fuck, dude! Watch your fucking feet!”, the guy grumbled, but then he realized he’s being rude, besides, he was the one, who pushed me, so he felt the need to apologize. He leaned down and picked my bag up, murmuring: “…Sorry, sorry, man, I just didn’t see ya, y’know, you’re such a little guy…”

Well thank you very much. Yeah, I called myself that sometimes, too, but who did he think he was to judge?! Was I using the fact that he was a fucking giant, that he looked like a fucking giraffe, which did bodybuilding, as an excuse? No, of course. Because I was nice. At least he helped me with the bag.

“It’s okay.”, I murmured quietly. I mentally cursed at myself for sounding so shy, so I added, making my tone as sassy as I could: “It’s okay, dude, it was totally my fault, I didn’t notice you. I thought I’m about to run into a wall or something, but that wall turned out to be you.” A very hairy wall, indeed, I added to myself. I wasn’t sure he got my humor at all, though. “Oh well. Next time be more careful and make way to the little guys like me, ‘kay? We deserve a bit more respect, after all. Right? Oh, and take this advice from me: Lose some weight.”

Before he could reply, I gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder (standing on my toes to reach it… figuratively said), grabbed my bag from him and disappeared in the bathroom, leaving him there at the door. I really hoped I didn’t go too far, because it would suck if such a tough guy decided I don’t deserve “a bit more respect”, but some good beating. I bit my lower lip at this thought, but I was actually trying not to chuckle. What? It was fun, messing with people.

About five minutes later I returned to the car. Vic was now inside, sketching something in a small notebook. Interested, once I was in the car as well, I leaned closer to look.

“What’s that?”, I asked with a small smile.

“A monkey.”, Vic shrugged.

I tilted head. “Why?”

“Because.”, he simply murmured, added one last touch and closed the notebook.

“Alright. Whatever. Look what I got for ya.”, I put the bag in my lap and started opening it.

“Ooh, you got something for me?”, Vic’s face lightened up as he continued in a childish voice. “What is it? Is it a present? Is it something cool? Is it a new toy? Tell me, tell me, tell meeee!”

“Condoms.”, I joked, giggling and enjoying watching him blush. “…No, just kidding. Well, not that you’re not gonna need them, though…” I poked him with a playful grin.

He slapped my hand and kicked me lightly, laughing a bit.

“You’re such a jerk.”, he tried to frown. “What is it, then?”

I kicked him back, putting my hand in the bag.

“Shut up, my sweet little asshole. It’s a Snickers and some water… Wait… What the fuck…”

“What…? What is it, something wrong?”

With my eyebrows furrowed, I buried my hand deeper in the bag, and took out… someone else’s underwear. Woman’s underwear.

What. The. Hell.

…I just hoped it was clean.

“…Oh, wow, that’s so nice, Kellin, such an awesome present.”, Vic said ironically. “Am I allowed to see what else you keep in there?”

“Shut the fuck up, it’s not…”, I sighed. “This is not mine.”

“Well that’s a relief, I don’t think it would look good on you.”, he teased, then tilted his head curiously. “Where did you get that from?”

“I have no idea.”, I said honestly and looked inside the bag again.

Most of the other stuff was men’s clothes, a toothbrush, some earphones, a laptop, and… uh-oh, what was that? I carefully took out a small plastic bag, full of something that suspiciously looked like powdered sugar. I held it out, using only two of my fingers, and narrowed my eyes at it.

“…Well damn.”, Vic generalized my thoughts out loud.

“This is definitely not mine.”, I announced.

“Kell. Are you sure this is your bag? Because I really doubt it, honestly.”, he shook head.

“Yeah, that’s damn evident, question is whose…” Suddenly I slapped my own forehead, remembering. “Shit! The big dude in the bathroom!”

Oh no. Oh crap. The man I had seen earlier, the one, who was carrying a bag identical to mine, was the same guy that almost ran over me inside.

“What?”, Victor blinked, now even more confused.

“I ran into this guy on my way to the bathrooms, and because of him I dropped my bag on the ground. So, he helped me up with it, but now I realize he was carrying the same one, and we might have accidentally switched them…”, I gave him a guilty look. “…I’m sorry.”

For a moment Victor stayed quiet and I got worried he might be mad at me. Yeah, I totally deserved it and I knew it, it was my fault only that I didn’t pay attention. Damn, I kept proving to the world that I’m probably the dumbest criminal in the history of humanity…

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize to me.”, he shook head finally. “What worries me is that your pills and your gun with your fingerprints on it are there. We need to get the fucking bag back.” He tried to smile. “Now you go to that guy, give him his back and apologize to him, okay? But fast, before they open ours.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.” I hesitated. “Though, I’d be calmer if you do the talking…”

“Nope, nope. You can do it.”, he patted my shoulder. “Now go.”

“…Right.”

I was just about to get out of the car, when I heard a very familiar sound, which this time made me froze. The sound of motorbike engine running. It took me a second to realize that the rockers were leaving, and one more to rush out and start yelling at them to stop and come back, waving the bag in the air. It was too late, though, because even the last one took a turn and followed the others on the road.

Damn. Damn. Damn. For a second I caught a glimpse of my bag at the back of one of the motorcycles, but they were already too far.

“Shit!”, I exclaimed and kicked one of the tires of our car. “Just… Crap!”

“Dammit, Kellin! Don’t take it out on the poor car, just get in, fast!”, Vic moved to the driver’s seat. “We can catch up with them and make them stop, and then we’ll explain everything, come on!”

“Good, we should do that, but how come you’re gonna drive?”, I frowned.

“Because I’m good at reckless driving, and honestly said, you drive like my grandma.”, he rolled eyes. “Now get the fuck in, would ya?”

I let out a deep, annoyed sigh, went round the car and heavily sat on the passenger seat next to him. Even before I could close the door, Victor had hit the gas and we left the station. Once on the road, I saw the motorbikes at some quite big distance from us. A second later they turned right and found themselves hidden behind a bunch of trees, so I couldn’t tell exactly how fast they were moving. Faster then us, anyway.

“Hurry up!”, I urged my boyfriend eagerly. “They’re already too far ahead, if you wanna get to th-”

“How about you shut your mouth and let me do what I can, hm?”, he interrupted me sharply. “I’ve got this.”

I waved my hands in the air, to show I give up.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Jesus, I’m just trying to help.”

“You don’t need to…”, he murmured, concentrated on the way.

Slightly irritated, I looked out of the window, actually deep inside pissed at myself for being so dumb and losing the things I needed the most. No, a voice in my head corrected me, not the things I need the most. Vic is the thing I need the most, and he’s still here, I still manage to keep him safe. So we’re good. This made me smile a little, but the concern drowned this smile in the sea of anxiousness and small amounts of adrenaline. The landscape seemed to fly past the windows, trees flashed for a moment and disappeared somewhere far behind. I looked through the windshield and saw the rockers about half a mile ahead of us.

“We’re shortening the distance!”, I grinned. “Hurry!”

“I am hurrying! And, yeah, told ya I’m a badass driver.”, Vic glanced at me for a second and winked. “Wanna know how fast we’re moving?”

“I’m not sure I do.”, I said hesitantly. “…No, I certainly don’t.”

“Almost a hundred miles per hour.”

“Shit, man, the last thing we need right now is to get fined for reckless driving.”, I let out a short, nervous laughter. “I think you really should slow down a bit.”

“Hurry up or slow down? Decide already! Do you want your bag back or what?”, he sighed.

“Of course I fucking do.”, I rolled eyes.

“Then stop complaining, we’re almost there.”

And really, soon we almost caught up with them, and Vic played the horn to get their attention. At first they didn’t seem to get the hint, though.

“Come on, turn off the road, bitches, turn off, turn off…”, he murmured, watching them, as he tried with the horn again. “Come on…”

It took a minute more until they figured out we wanted them to stop, and they started turning aside one by one. Once they had all parked their motorcycles, Vic stopped the car near them, but didn’t go out right away.

“Alright, I did the driving, you do the talking, Kell.”, he pretty much ordered.

“Hah, why me?”, I raised eyebrows, noticing the expressions on the guys’ faces. They weren’t exactly pleased with the situation.

“Because I can’t do all the work.”, Vic simply said. “Now go, before they leave or something. Just gotta warn you, if they do, I’m not chasing them again.”

“Mkay, great.”, I snorted out. “Sure, I’ll go talk to those titans over there and hope they won’t smash me with a hammer.”

“That’s Thor, silly.”, he chuckled.

“Huh?”, I knitted eyebrows.

He sighed and then explained slowly, as if he was talking to a little child.

“The guy with the hammer is Thor, and he’s not a titan, he’s a god. Wrong mythology, man.”

I waved my hand. “Well, titans, gods, what’s the big difference? They’re all some Roman religious bullshit.”

This just got me another patient sigh.

“None of them is Roman. The titans are from the Greek mythology. And Thor is Scandinavian. Jesus, dude, educate yourself!”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter!”, I frowned. “Okay, then I’ll say I’m going to talk to the giants, hoping they won’t strike me with a lightning.”

“Giants can’t do that, that’s Zeus’s job. Do your research.”, Victor stubbornly insisted, trying not to giggle at our stupid conversation.

“Whatever.”, I repeated, rolling eyes. “Be right back.”

Without arguing anymore, I grabbed the bag and went out. I fixed my tie and realized how big the contrast between me and the “titans” in question was. They were all tall, pretty tough, dressed in leather and boots that reached their knees. I, on the other hand, was wearing my smart, expensive black suit, leather shoes, and sunglasses in the same color, even though it was a bit cloudy today. To other people it would seem like I’m just trying to look cool, but I was pretty much using the sunglasses for a disguise, at least they did some decent job at covering a part of my face. By the stares I received from the rockers, though, I figured I didn’t choose the right outfit.

“Hey!”, I waved, smiling and trying to act friendly. “’Sup?”

Five faces, hidden behind helmets, gazed at me suspiciously, but none of them got off their bikes. I got no reply and this worried me a little… Well, I mean, a little more than I already was.

“I, um, I’m sorry for slowing you down, but I gotta talk to you about a bag…”

One of the guys tilted head. “You fucking pulled us over only to talk to us? Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, I am, but it’s important. I, um… I believe that at the gas station I accidentally switched bags with one of you, guys. I urgently need mine, though, I’m not well and I need my pills, and they’re in there, you know… So, heh, would you mind giving it back? Here’s yours.”

I showed them what I was holding and tried another smile. The expressionless “masks” of glass, metal and plastic kept watching me for awhile, then one of the men finally took his helmet off, letting me know two things. One, it was the exact guy I bumped into at the station. And two, the moment I saw the expression on his face, I could clearly tell that he had already opened my bag and perfectly knew what was in there. Money. The greedy bastard wasn’t giving it back, I was sure.

“I remember you, you’re the little guy I saw back there.”, he said, an amused smirk on his face. “Don’t fuck with us, Dwarfie, what you’re saying is total bullshit. I already checked what’s in my bag, I know it’s mine. And I know you tried to steal it when you “accidentally” tripped over me, so I advice you to stop trying.”

I blinked. “…Wait, what?”

The guy threw a look at his friends, as if he was saying: ‘Is he stupid or something?’

“Not that you don’t know, duh.”, he shrugged. “And since it didn’t work out last time, you’re here to try again. Well, it ain’t gonna work, midget. Now shoo.”

Oh, yeah, I knew what that was about. Finding ninety-eight thousand dollars isn’t something that happens every day, and once a person does, later they aren’t quite willing to give it back. I started wondering what I should do. Usually I’d simply threaten them with my gun, just to scare them enough to make them do what I tell tem to, but, unfortunately, now my weapon was in the bag, and it was too fucking far for me to get it. I came to the conclusion that I have a few choices: to keep asking to take it back and end up beaten up; to try to threaten them I’m gonna kick their asses if they don’t give it to me and also end up beaten up; to leave, and find myself disarmed, poor and in pain; to let them know I know the reason why they want to keep my things, and try to negotiate with them… although I wasn’t sure how this would turn out; or to use the secret weapon I kept hidden in my sleeve – my super-clever, super-badass boyfriend.

I glanced at the car and gave Vic a barely visible nod. He was used to having soundless conversations with me, though, so he nodded back and got out as well.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”, he gave them his big, charming, shiny smile.

“Oh, look, Dwarfie has an even tinier friend. How… sweet.”, one of the other rockers bitched. I felt the strong urge to punch him, but I resisted it.

Victor chose to ignore him too.

“I’d stick out my tongue out at you for being such an asshole, or show you the finger, but I’m too polite to do that.”, he said calmly, but emphasizing on the word “tongue”, and glanced at me as he was pronouncing it. I knew what this meant.

We used some of the time we spent in the hotel, while healing from our injuries, to invent a special code language which we’d use in case we get caught by the police, or in situations like this one. It was simple – we just slipped a code word in a sentence, no matter who it was directed to, and we already had about twenty different words, each of which meant a different thing. For example, ‘tongue’ meant that I had to improvise and distract the others with my bullshit while Vic does whatever he’s up to unnoticed. Now I just blinked at him, to let him know I understood, and then turned to the motorcyclists.

“No, that’s not okay. That was it. My patience is done.”, I declared, crossing arms. “Who the fuck are you callin’ ‘Dwarfie’, you… goddamn giant? And are you saying I’m a thief? Is that what you’re trying to say? Well, you know what, you’re the fucking thief here, not me, so give me my bag back if you don’t wanna get into trouble.”

…That totally worked, but I wasn’t sure if for good or for worse. Five pairs of eyes were now fixed on me, all surprised, and definitely unfriendly, and the men started getting off of their bikes one by one. I tried my best to stay calm and keep my arrogant attitude, but it wasn’t easy, you know, when they were all looking at me from above. Uh-oh… I just hoped Vic’s plan was worth it.

“What did you say?”, a man with long, greasy black hair, narrowed eyes. “Get into trouble?”

The bathroom guy laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, right. And what are you gonna do… Dwarfie?

Suddenly I was reminded of Stanley Taylor from my school years. The way he threatened me and talked to me, the way he stressed the offensive names he called me, and an unexpected fear took over my body. I felt young, weak and helpless again, so vulnerable, so alone. For a moment I found myself back there, trapped in the locker in my high school, horrified, claustrophobic and abandoned. Before I could stop it, the flashback uncontrollably rushed into my mind, causing me to blankly stare at the tall man, who now seemed even taller, and much creepier than he really was. In reality he was just a dumb junkie with bad manners, who urgently needed a shower, but my brain built a stronger, darker, evil version of him, and I found myself completely paralyzed. With my peripheral vision I spotted Vic sneak closer to the motorbike, where my bag was placed. My thoughts were too clouded to realize what he was doing, though, so I remained there, frozen.

Sports classes. Damn, how I hated sports classes. I was so bad at this, I just couldn’t play as well as the other boys, so they usually laughed at me because of that and isolated me. I never cared about sports anyway, I’ve always preferred sitting somewhere alone, reading a book. Playing, for example, basketball, included too much people, sweat and useless effort. Besides, I was a skinny, tiny boy, I’d always end up hurt, physically, but mostly psychically.

I was used to it. I didn’t care… or at least I pretended not to. But no matter how used to physical pain I was, words would always hurt more and leave a more permanent damage.

”Hey, Kellin Queer, think fast!”

I turned around, startled, just in time to see a ball fly directly towards my head, and before I could react and catch it, it hit me in the face. I stumbled back, holding my hurting eye, and all I could hear was laughter…

…No. That wasn’t a ball. It was a punch.

It made me snap out and go back to reality to realize that the motherfucker had used my distraction to hit me and bruise my eye. Mumbling curses, I managed to stay up and glare at him, ready to hit back. I noticed that Vic had finally gotten to the motorbike and was now looking for something in my bag. The others, interested by me and exited by the thought of a possible fight, had totally forgotten about his existence, and that would be great, if the reason they ignored him wasn’t me getting my ass kicked.

I received another punch, this time in the jaw, but now I was prepared, so before my opponent could pull back, I grabbed my his wrist, pulled it closer and bit it hard, as at the same time I stuck my fist in his stomach. I didn’t do him much harm, I’m sure, but the sound he made reminded me of a dying mammoth, which totally satisfied me. In the meantime Victor had found what he was looking for and even though I couldn’t see him (because having been punched in the eye pretty much limits your visual capacity), his words were enough for me to realize what he was about to do.

“Gentlemen, may I get your attention, please? Hey? Hey! Hey, assholes, look at me, dammit!”

A gunshot sounded in the air and that finally managed to distract the men from using me for a punching bag. I stepped back and leaned my back against the car, trying to catch my breath. After a few moments, when I was finally able to see properly, I blinked and found Vic stand where I last saw him, but this time he was holding my gun pointed at the guys, just as I thought. I smiled a bit. That’s my boy…

“You alright there, Kellin?”, he asked without moving his look from the rockers, whose hands were now raised in the air.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.”, he smiled. “I’m glad you’re alright.” Then he spoke to the others: “Now, guys, listen to me carefully. I was going to let you go peacefully, but it seems you didn’t get my message right. To show you how deeply offended I am by your disrespectful behavior, I’m taking one of your bikes.”, he patted the closest one. “Nice ride, not gonna lie. I’ll get this one if you don’t mind. Also, have this free advice, as a gesture of my totally friendly intentions. Don’t do drugs.” He took a second to think. “…And stay out of gangs.”, he added. “’Kay, bye. Come on, Kells.”

He fired one more time, just for the fun of watching the men jump alarmed, then he got on the motorbike and started it. I stumbled to him, still a bit dizzy, but at least glad I didn’t receive any hits in my recently healed rib.

“Do you know how to drive this thing?”, I asked as I was sitting behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, to make sure I won’t fall off.

“Sure, I do, my little brother taught me.”, Vic glanced back at me. “Thing is, I don’t have a license for it, but who cares.”

“Just don’t get us killed and I’m fine with that.”, I laughed a little. “I had enough of your reckless driving today for a lifetime.”

“Don’t start again”, he warned me, grinning

He took two of the rockers’ helmets, handed me one of them, after that put the other one on, himself. Then, after casting one last look at the men, he drove off.

My grip around him tightened as we sped up. My eye was still aching, but I had the feeling that it wasn’t going to close completely, I’d be as good as new in a few days. What I regretted for was losing my sunglasses. Damn. I really liked those sunglasses. Oh well. I was going to get new ones… or simply steal Vic’s.

I rested my head on his back and closed eyes. Again, we had proven that team work can beat any danger. I was still embarrassed for losing myself into a flashback, but I decided not to think about it or bring out the subject for now. Instead, I let out a soft sigh and let the wind play with my shirt, as I snuggled closer to Victor, to keep myself warm. It was one of those moments, when you are supposed to be upset, but instead you feel unusually happy. Yeah, I had just gotten myself into a fight once more, but that didn’t really matter. I still had the things I needed the most with me. The gun. The pills. The money. The List.

And Vic. Especially Vic. My Vic…

I smiled.

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY.

Notes

Sorry, it took me a long time to post this, because I had been writing One Eye Open Wide. Anyway, I hope this one turned out alright.

There were a lot of typos in it, I hope I managed to fix them all.

Also, some references:

>Kellin doesn't like salad and pickles referring to Jesse, in this interview: [link]

>The Michael Jackson bit was inspired by PTV's version of Beat It. Here it is: [link]

>The "Don't do drugs and stay out of gangs" thing Vic says in the end was inspired by different interviews I've watched of him and PTV, he often says it, so I thought I'd use it XD

So yeah, I think that's all. Feel free to comment and subscribe, and all. :3