Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives)
Read Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives) Online
Authors: Marita A. Hansen
Behind the Hood
By Marita A. Hansen
Copyright
Behind the Hood
Marita A. Hansen
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2011 - Marita A. Hansen
All rights reserved
Edited by John Hudspith
Cover Art by Marita A. Hansen
For subsidiary rights enquiries email [email protected]
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters, names, places, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
UK and Commonwealth English used due to the New Zealand setting.
Contents
1
Maia Daniels knew she should just ignore the boys.
Walk past, don’t listen
, she told herself.
Don’t talk back.
It was ten o’clock on a Saturday night. The gang were sitting on a wall outside Claydon Pub, passing around a smoke. She’d seen some of them at high school, when they decided to turn up that is.
Whooping and yelling came from the pub. A television blared loudly, no doubt replaying the All Blacks’ rugby match against the Wallabies. Maia stopped at the driveway as a purple Holden drove into the car park. Music blasted from inside the souped-up machine, the bass pumping its steady beat out into the night.
“Maia, c’mere,” Tama Harris yelled.
The gang leader was eighteen, tall and solidly built, with a wide, flat nose. He’d shaved off his hair recently, replacing it with a curved pattern called a
moko
. Usually, the tattoo adorned the face, a sign of a Maori warrior—something to be proud of. But Tama was no one to be proud of, nothing but a dreg who constantly harassed her. Unlike the other boys, he wore his hoodie tied around his waist, his ripped jeans and muscle shirt unsuitable for the cold autumn weather. Maia figured he was probably high on something, either from the weed in his hand or the empty bottles at his feet—or both.
“Hey, Maia! Are ya a double d?” a podgy boy with spiky blond hair shouted.
“They sure felt like it,” Tama replied, his hand actions eliciting laughter from the gang.
A blush ran across Maia’s cheeks. Shit, she hated her breasts. Even in her oversized sweatshirt they still grabbed attention. She pulled her hood further over her head, and rounded her shoulders. After another car passed, she hitched up her track pants and walked across the muddy driveway.
Tama hollered, “Oi! I told ja to c’mere.”
She looked back, aching to give him the finger, but instead jammed her hands into her pockets. God, she was a moron for sneaking out, but ... Ben’s raves were always awesome. Why couldn’t her mum let her go? It wasn’t like she did drugs, and the boys at the party were just mates.
Tama’s scowl changed into a grin. He threw his joint onto the ground and jumped off the stone wall. With a jerk of his head, he indicated for the gang to follow.
Maia’s heartbeat picked up. Still concentrating on Tama, she stepped off the kerb and onto Waiata Crescent. The blast of a horn made her leap back. The front passenger leaned out of a battered sedan, and swore at her. Ignoring the pimply git, she scooted around the car and across the side road.
A loud wolf-whistle made her jump. She glanced over her shoulder. Tama’s eyes were fixated on her, promising things she didn’t want.
He grabbed his crotch. “I like ya from behind, Maia.”
All the boys, except for Mikey Thomas, laughed. Tama’s cousin looked away as though uncomfortable with what was happening. He was fourteen and in her class at school. She thought he liked her; either that or he had a staring problem. Yeah, she’d only noticed because she was usually checking him out too.
Maia wondered if she could lose the gang by cutting across the highway. Traffic was heavy, making this option just as dangerous as stopping for Tama. Further up the road, past the tyre yard, the video and liquor stores’ lights were on. The neon sign of the happy video man was a welcoming sight. It was maybe a hundred metres away. She thought she had a chance of outrunning Tama. She was fast, damned fast. If she’d showed up to school enough, she probably would’ve been on the track team.
“Maia, pretty Maia,” Tama taunted. “I’ve got sumpthin’ to show you.”
Maia wasn’t sure whether it was a knife—or something else in his pants. She knew he carried a switchblade. He’d stabbed her brother in the arm once when Nike attacked him with a baseball bat. She’d always wondered whether this was why Tama harassed her. But she couldn’t blame Nike for it. Leila, his girlfriend at the time, had caused the fight. The bitch had cheated on him with Tama, then cried rape after he found out.
“Leave me alone, Tama,” she said, remembering the last time he’d approached her. She’d kicked him in the balls for grabbing her breasts. “Nike said he’d beat the living snot outta you if you came near me again.”
