My dragon-dog didn’t get a chance to follow through on his threat. Suddenly, all bets were off. I didn’t wonder why this was happening or how to get out of it, how to get him to leave me alone and keep me safe. How to politely, nicely, civilly ask if he would just stop. For a second, one glorious second, I was that girl in Sable’s tattoo, the girl who slashed open the Crown Prince of Damorica. I brought my head back and smashed it into Connor’s nose.
“Tess?” Suddenly I was free. Dizzy, staggering, not sure what the fuck was going on, but free.
Well done, little warrior.
I shook my head, trying to stop the spinning, the world righting itself. My equilibrium gained back with a snap. I opened my eyes to see Flea standing over me, looking worried. “What the hell happened?”
“None of your business, mate,” Connor said. His grand statement was somewhat diminished by the fact blood was streaming down his face and his voice sounded all nasal and weird. “She is my love, my beloved.”
“Love? Fuck off, mate. I’ve known this girl for a lot longer than you have and she wouldn’t fall for a dickhead like you,” Flea said.
“Yeah, well, this dickhead was in her bed this morning,” Connor said.
“And? Doesn’t give you the right to grope her now, does it?”
“She wants me, all of us.” He looked over his shoulder and sure enough, the rest of Team Bro was there. “She was so wet when we were running our hands over her body—”
“And y’see, that’s when I get angry,” I said, moving into Connor’s space this time and poking my finger in his face. “Vaginal lubrication is a largely involuntary reaction. It is not a window into my brain, it is not a Magic 8-Sex Ball that will help you predict the likelihood of any sexual encounters. Some women are hugely turned on and not wet at all. That’s why lube exists. Shit, things like where you are in your cycle and menopause can affect it. You can’t. Assume. Consent. Based on an observable bodily phenomenon,” I said, grinding my finger into the man’s chest to punctuate my points. “You have to ask. And let me say to you, no, no, no, no. Not your bros, not one on one, not in any kinky combination you can come up with. Not even with someone else’s vagina. Just no.”
“Think the lady has made herself clear, mate. You and your buddies can piss right off,” Flea said. Miazydar stalked after the lot of them as they walked off, sending me sulky looks over their shoulders as they disappeared into the night.
“That was impressive,” Flea said, trying for a grin. “How are you feeling?”
I looked around and noticed the curious and concerned looks coming from inside Gabe’s shed. “Embarrassed, dizzy. Actually, really dizzy.”
“Come and sit in my car for a sec, lemme see if you’re OK.” While I was definitely a little woozy, I managed to be very aware of the arm slung across my shoulders, steering me along. “Your dog, he was gonna rip that guy’s head off.”
“He’s not dangerous.”
“Didn’t think he was. Was just impressed.”
As if I need the approval of a man thing. I fought back the urge to laugh. Flea let me go, my skin felt cool and somehow lighter once he pulled away and it wasn’t entirely pleasant. “Sorry,” he said, grabbing my hips and then pushed me backwards gently. I blinked, sitting down in the driver’s seat and my vision cleared up right as he bent over to look at my eyes.
He was doing much the same thing as Connor, his face moving slowly closer, though I felt none of the same irritation or fear. He grabbed his phone and turned on the torch, sending a beam of blinding light straight into them. “What are you doing?” I said, flinching back.
“Nothing really. I mean, you see doctors doing it in TV shows, so I assume it helps, though I have no idea why.” I slowly opened my eyes to see the torch had been switched off and it was just him looking me over. He smiled; a small, slow, thing. “Feeling any better?”
The question was little more than a hoarse whisper. This close I could see it all, the angular shape of his face cast in deep shadows in the dim light of the shed spotlight, the tangle of his dark hair. Were His eyes were always a murk of, hazel? Green? I could never tell. His lips pursed, then relaxed, drawing my eye to them, his scanning mine, searching for something, but I didn’t know what. “Tess…” my name was a hiss, blending in with the background rumble coming from the party, forcing me to strain to hear it, to wat
ch his mouth to see it move. His hand went to my jaw, gently cupping it, holding me still, but making it plain I could pull away. His thumb twitched, a small caress of my skin. His breath, my breath, it came in ragged, creating a dull roar that blocked out all else. A tiny frown formed between his brows and then he moved…
“Hey, Flea.” A couple of guys appeared beside the car. They were dressed similarly; loose, worn clothing, though one had a respirator hanging around his neck. He had longish sandy coloured hair, the other had dark hair that had been shaved close to his head. “We’re gonna do a piece for Macca, for his birthday. You in?” Flea turned to look at me, so the others did the same.
“It’s OK, go,” I said. I was feeling a little breathless. I could sit out in the carpark for a bit with Miazydar, get my head together, stick around for as long as was polite and then catch a cab home, ready for a long, hot bath and a sleep.
“Yeah, alright,” he said to his friends, then moved in close. I watched him come closer and closer, wondering what was about to happen. He let out a little huff of a laugh, grabbing a spiral-bound journal from between the front seats. “I’ve got some new stuff I reckon would be right up Macca’s alley.” The fellas flipped through the pages of the book, oohing and ahhing over his designs.
“That’s some old skool Frazetta shit right there,” one said.
“Yeah, Dad used to have a panel van with the same kind of artwork on it. I reckon Macca’ll be into it,” Flea said.
“Well, alright,” said the other. “Let’s get this shit started.”
I just waited there like a stunned mullet. Get out of the car and walk away, I told myself tersely. I got to my feet, yay me, and wasn’t feeling as dizzy. I was about to take off when Flea moved past me, locking up, then grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him as we entered the party.
Miazydar flinched as soon as we were under the bright lights, the shouting and drinking and pump of the music causing both of us to shrink back. Flea turned when I lingered, his eyebrow cocked in question. His eyes whipped about the shed as if seeing it for the first time and he pulled me closer. He looked down at me as his arm went around my waist. “It’s quieter up the back.” I just nodded. His friends led the way, walking across the massive warehouse space until we reached a door that led to the outside area. There was a metal roof and a few cement sheet walls that formed an exterior smoking area.
A couple of older men stood out on the wide cement slab beyond, drinking as they talked shit and a girl with floppy limbs smoked something not entirely legal within the arms of what I assumed was her boyfriend. One of the guys disappeared inside, reappearing with a big box of spray cans. “Ironlak,” he said with a grin and tossed one to Flea.