MC Sinners Boxed Set #1-7

CHAPTER 4 | CIARA - PAST

CHAPTER 4

CIARA - PAST

“ W here are you going, Ciara?” my mother asks, following me down to the front door.

She hasn’t asked where I’m going, or whom I’m hanging out with for months. I know why she’s doing it now, because Cheyenne had a problem with her friend and is now sulking in her room, and I’m expected to stay and give her some company. Not going to happen. Cheyenne certainly wouldn’t do it for me. I meet my mother’s gaze, and shrug my shoulders. It’s so very teenager of me.

“I’m going out with a friend.”

“Cheyenne is upset, it would be nice if you supported her like most sisters would.”

I hate that. Just because she’s my sister, doesn’t mean I should have to drop everything for her. It takes much more to create a bond with someone, then just being blood related. Cheyenne has very rarely done anything for me. The whole ‘family bond’ thing doesn’t really cut it in this household. Sadly, it never has, but my mother still expects me to want to drop everything to help Cheyenne out when she’s in need. I don’t mind helping her either, when her problems aren’t petty and childish. I know for a fact this problem is just that.

“She’ll be fine.”

“Ciara, I am tired of all this attitude. You continually backchat me, and treat your sister like she’s no more than an acquaintance. She’s family. Family always comes first.”

I snort. “Yeah, well, funny she doesn’t have the same values when it comes to me.”

“Cheyenne would die for you, don’t be so selfish.”

I roll my eyes, and she crosses her arms.

“Sorry, Mom, but I’m busy tonight. Perhaps you and Cheyenne can have a girls night, because you do enjoy those...”

I’m being sarcastic and mean, but I don’t care.

She gives me the pained, hurt expression. “At least go and see her, she’s hurting.”

I sigh and growl loudly, before turning and storming up the stairs. I won’t get to walk out of this house until I see Cheyenne and listen to her bitch about a friend who did wrong by her, even though she was likely the one who started it. I get to her room, swing the door open, and find her lying in bed, staring out the window. It’s seriously like a movie. Next minute, it will be raining and a sad song will start playing. Can anyone say ‘drama queen?’

“What happened?” I say, though my voice sounds snappy.

She rolls, pinning me with a glare. “You don’t need to be here, Ciara. I know Mom is making you. I never asked you to care and we both know you don’t.”

Well shit, now she’s making me feel bad. I drop my bag at the door and walk over, sitting on her bed.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok before I left.”

Her eyes widen, and she sits. That’s all it takes to get her to talk. “I’m not, it’s Lisa.”

Ah, the beloved best friend, with whom she fights on a daily basis. I nod my head, encouraging her to go on and trying to ignore the fact that Danny will be here in five minutes.

“So, I was seeing this guy...you remember him? Jerald?”

What a stupid name.

“Anyway, things were going really well until this afternoon when I saw him at the café with Lisa. They were laughing and joking, like they were on a date.”

God save me.

“Maybe they just ran into each other...” I offer, trying to play it down as much as possible.

“Or maybe,” she snaps, “she was trying to steal my boyfriend.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No.”

“So you could be moping over nothing? Unless you ask her, then you shouldn’t be jumping to silly conclusions.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have spoken to you...” she growls. “You wouldn’t understand men. You just hang out with that idiotic motorcycle man who you say you don’t like, but we all know you do.”

“You know nothing,” I snap.

She hits me with that icy glare. “I know you want him. Better tell him soon, Ciara, or someone else will snap him up.”

Every time . We cannot speak without her turning sour.

“Whatever,” I say, turning and walking towards the door.

I don’t bother saying anything else. Our heart to hearts always end in the same way – with Cheyenne and I fighting. We are always fighting, and the rare moments we aren’t, go by so quickly I couldn’t name any memorable ones. It’s not that we don’t love each other, because we do. It’s just that we have nothing in common. She’s outgoing, bubbly, and the light of most people’s lives. I’m quieter, more reserved, and tend to stick in the shadows. It’s how it’s always been, and likely how it always will be.

I grip my bag, storm down the stairs and straight past my parents sitting in the living room. They don’t even call out for me. Why would they? There’s nothing for them to say to me. Not even a be careful . I rush down the front steps just as Danny pulls up. He sees the look on my face, and pulls off his helmet. I wave at him frantically, letting him know I don’t want to stop. I just want to go. I need to get out of here, and away from the constant reminder that I’m second and I always will be. I lift the spare helmet off his bike, and climb on the back, saying nothing. He pulls his helmet back on, takes off, and we head to the movies.

I hold him tight the entire ride, struggling to steady out my emotions. When we pull up, and we’re both off the bike, he turns to me. His big, brown eyes scan my face, and I can see he’s worried about me, but he’s also not the type to talk emotions. He’s hard. It’s just the way he is. His parents died at a young age, and he was left alone. He lived a hard life, and he’s continued to live a hard life. He tried though, he went to school, got a job, and tried to build up something that had been so severely broken in the past. Sadly, it didn’t last long. I know he’s into some pretty bad stuff, even though he leaves me out of it.

“You okay, Tom Cat?”

“Just Cheyenne being an ass again,” I say softly.

“Sorry,” he says, it’s the only thing he ever says, emotions aren’t his strong point.

I wave my hand, plastering a smile on my face. “It doesn’t matter. What are we watching?”

He grins, offering me his hand. I take it, and we walk into the theatre. Girls automatically turn and stare at Danny, it’s hard not to. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a tight black shirt, and heavy black boots. He’s got a few colorful tattoos running up his left arm, and he’s wearing a great deal of silver jewelry. He looks like a bad ass, and let’s face it, girls love a bad boy.

“You wanna go funny, or scary?” he asks, as we scour the titles, still hand in hand.

“Scary.”

He smirks, and we order two tickets to some horror flick that I have no doubt we will laugh the entire way through. It’s our thing. We come to the movies, and we laugh. It doesn’t matter if it’s a scary, funny, sad, or downright boring movie. We laugh, and we have a great time. We’re both the kind of people who will laugh right at the moment everyone else is crying. I remember watching the Titanic when it came back on big screen for the second time. Right at the end, people were blubbering and a complete mess, but Danny and I? Nope. I’ll never forget Danny’s comment right at the end, when Rose has just let Jack go, and she whispers, “I’ll never let go, Jack.” Danny snorted, and stared at the screen in horror as Jack sunk. His words? “She just fuckin’ let him go!”

We laughed for days about it.

That’s just us.

And our friendship might not be for everyone, but it’s ours, and because it’s ours, I love it.