Dangerous by Suzannah Daniels

my lips.
    “Her name was Tiffany. Her family was renting a nearby cabin for the summer. I was sixteen, and I thought she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. So did my brother.”
    “What’s your brother’s name?”
    “Dylan is my older brother, but I had a twin brother, too.” I blew air out between my clenched teeth. I hadn’t talked about my twin since the months following the accident.
    “You had a twin brother?” she asked, waiting for me to clarify. She turned sideways, so that she could get a better look at my face, her legs dangling over my thigh.
    “He died.”
    She gasped. “How?”
    I rubbed my palm over my face. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    She leaned over against my chest and hugged me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
    I laid my chin on the top of her head and held her close. She was so easy to talk to, maybe too easy. But I couldn’t do it. Not now.
    I needed to be on my bike. I didn’t want these memories swirling in my head like heavy fog creeping along a mountain road, just waiting to wreak havoc.
    “You want to go for a ride?” I asked, knowing that I would only accept one answer.
    Dara leaned up and looked at me, and I thought perhaps I had caught her off guard. “Yeah. Sure.” She scrambled over my leg and rose to her feet.
    I stood and led her back into the house. Mike and Crimson were curled up on the couch watching a movie.
    “Hey, guys. We’re going for a ride. Stay as long as you want, but lock the house up when you leave.”
    Mike waved his hand in acknowledgement. “Sure thing. We’ll probably leave as soon as this movie’s over. See ya later, man.”
    “Later.” I rushed out the front door, feeling the overwhelming need to be under the night sky.
    I tried to slow my stride, so that Dara wasn’t too far behind me as we walked along the sidewalk to the driveway. When I reached my bike, I swung my leg over it and grabbed the handgrips, relief washing over me and pushing some of the uneasiness of our former conversation out of my mind.
    As she climbed on the back of the bike, I noticed the note tucked in the same spot as the previous note. One note was bad enough, but this guy was really starting to piss me off. I snatched up the note and crammed it into my front pocket. If Dara wasn’t with me, I’d probably take off looking for Chance. A few punches might actually make for some stress relief right about now.

    ***

    The alarm on my cell phone alerted me to the fact that morning had arrived. I forced my eyes open, and memories of the previous evening came flooding back. I had said too much to Dara in a moment of weakness. Now she would be asking more questions, and I had no desire to answer them.
    I showered and dressed for work. Thanks to my big mouth, it would be incredibly awkward working side-by-side with Dara.
    I searched for my wallet, realizing I had left it in the jeans that I had worn the previous night. I scooped them up off my chair and fished the wallet from the back pocket. Then I remembered. I stuffed my hand in the front pocket of the jeans and pulled out the note that had been left on my motorcycle last night. It angered me that Chance had the audacity to step foot on my property. I’d have to pay him a little visit later and tell him what he could do with his note. If he thought I would stay away from Dara because he had left me a note, he was incapable of properly assessing the situation. If anything, it would only make me want to prove to him that his words had no effect on me.
    I tossed last night’s jeans back on the chair and unfurled the note to reveal another typewritten message. Dara doesn’t belong with you.
    I laughed. What a freaking stalker! Who was Chance Murray to say whether Dara belonged with me or not?
    I never liked Chance, but I wouldn’t have taken him to be such a wuss . What self-respecting guy ran around leaving notes? I couldn’t fathom why he wouldn’t just say it to my face. Or better yet, why