by Emma Louise
***
Sitting in the late afternoon California sunshine, I let the vibrations from the cars on the track flow through me. The scream of the engine helps push out any other thoughts. I’d give my left nut to be the one who’s behind the wheel right now, but even I know I’m probably still half-drunk from last night.
“He looks good out there.” Beckett Daniels’ deep Southern twang breaks through the peace I was just beginning to find.
“Yup.” I don’t take my eyes off the car.
“How long do you think you can keep doing this?” I’ve been wondering how long it would be before we had this conversation, but Becks probably doesn’t realize that he couldn’t have picked a worse time to come at me with this.
“Not today, Becks.” My voice is flat. I don’t have it in me to fight today. I’m already battling the memories of Brooke’s face last night, and there’s not enough left of me to try to explain what’s going on to Becks. The fear in her eyes has plagued me all day. She's all I see when I close my eyes.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He tries again.
“No offense, Becks, but you’re my race manager, not my life manager.” I regret the sharp words the second they pass my lips, but he needs to quit already.
“See, that’s where you’re just plain wrong,” he drawls, sounding a little smug. “When the choices you’re making outside the car affect the things you do inside the car, it becomes my business to tell you that you’re out of line.”
“My driving is fine—”
“Your numbers are down, Tuck.” He cuts me off. “You’ve consistently pulled your slowest laps every run for the last three weeks. And shall we talk about how your sponsors will feel if it gets out how much you’ve been cutting loose lately? They love a bit of controversy, we all know that, but falling out of clubs with barely dressed women hanging off you at three-am gets old real fast.”
Fuck. I don’t need this today. The urge to run blazes through me. Everything is falling apart around me, and it feels like I can't do anything to keep it all together.
“Whatever is going on in that head of yours, work it out. You can’t continue down the path you’re on, kid.”
“Beck—”
“Yeah, yeah. Save it, kid. I already know what you’re about to say. There’s nothing wrong; you got it under control. Newsflash, Tuck, this ain’t my first Rodeo. You’re not the first tortured soul I’ve had to deal with. On and off the track.”
The denial is on the tip of my tongue. The need to refute what he’s saying burns inside me. Beckett doesn’t know me; nobody knows me, not really. I learned long ago that letting people in only causes hurt, and that’s why every person in my life is held at arms-length. Nobody gets close enough to get the opportunity to hurt me, not anymore.
I might not have let anyone in, but I trust Beckett Daniels with my life; I have to in this business. So I have to accept that there’s some truth in what he’s saying, even when I’m almost consumed with the need to tell him and everyone else to go fuck themselves.
“This team needs you, kid. But we need the Tucker Neal we signed, not the one that’s sitting here with me now. Get ahold on it or you’re out of the car for at least a week.” Slamming his hand down on my shoulder, Becks gives me a little shake before he stands and walks down the bleachers, leaving me with more shit swirling around my mind than when I sat down here hours ago.
I’ve worked too damn long and too damn hard to fuck this up. I need to get my head out of my ass and back into the car. And to do that, I have to face the cause of my problems. The past. That starts with apologizing to Brooke.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TUCKER
The screen of my phone illuminates the gloomy evening light of my balcony. Ignoring the incoming text, I take a long drink from the bottle in my hand, concentrating on the city lights that sprawl out in front of me.
Fuck.
I wish I was drinking something stronger.
Growing up in the wide-open spaces of the Savannah suburbs, I never thought I’d end up here in a penthouse apartment in downtown LA. The day I left Georgia behind, I had nothing but the clothes on my back, ninety dollars in the bank, and my shitty truck.
California wasn’t on my radar when I ran; I just knew I needed to get as far away as I possibly could. Starting out, I worked any job that would pay me enough to eat which was construction more often than not. That first year, I worked my fingers to the bone doing sixty-hour weeks, then I would race the piece of shit car I saved to buy at nights and weekends. I never stayed in one place long; the loneliness plagued me no matter where I went.
It was pure luck that I won a race out in Phoenix against a kid who worked for a legit race crew. Instead of threatening to kick my ass like most of the idiots that tried to race me, he gave me a business card and told me to meet him the next day at the track.
I skipped work the next day and went to meet him. Turns out, that was the best damned decision I’d made in a long time. Within a week I’d quit the construction job and was working on a race crew. It was grunt work for the longest time, moving shit around and doing whatever heavy lifting was needed.
None of that mattered. Just being there amongst the revving engines and smell of grease gave me a peace I hadn’t had in a long, long time. I killed myself working day and night to prove my worth. It took a while, but I finally got my chance to get in a car. I got my chance to prove that I was good enough to race.
A year after that I got my big break and was signed to Donavan Racing. I moved out to California immediately after, and I’ve been here since.
The screen lighting up once more pulls me from thoughts of the past. If I unlock the phone, I’ll ignore the multiple messages and missed call. I know the second that phone is in my hand I’ll be calling Rylee to get Brooke’s number.
At least that’s what I should be doing.
I should be turning the city upside down, trying to find her so I can apologize for scaring her. Fuck, not just that. I need to apologize for so much more than that.
For the first time since she returned in my life, I don’t use alcohol as a crutch to get me through the night, but the need itches at me. The urge to pick up a bottle of Jack to drown the nonsense in my head is always there. I hate feeling like this. I’m on the cusp of becoming just like him. The alcoholic that raised me. He used alcohol to drown out all the shit in his life, and here I am doing exactly the same thing. Guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?
“You look like shit,” Zander announces as he pushes his way out onto the balcony next to me.
“Thanks, man.” I try to sound offended, but the reality is, I probably do look like shit. I gave up on trying to sleep around four-am, same as every night lately.
“Just calling it like I see it, man.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” My words get a quick burst of laughter from us both, but it doesn’t last, and the silence soon stretches around us.
“Becks called you, didn’t he?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yep.”
“No lecture from you?”
“Who am I to speak? It's not like I haven’t had enough of my own issues,” he says. Zander’s upbringing makes mine look like a walk in the park. He might have been lucky enough to be adopted by Colton and Rylee, but that didn’t stop him from struggling over the years. There was a time I wasn’t sure his demons would let up their hold on him, but since meeting Getty, his girlfriend, last year, he seems to have made peace with his past.
“I’m just here to make sure you don’t miss the party today,” he announces, standing up. “Mom said she’s going to kick your ass if you miss it.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise. I might be in a fucked-up place, but I wouldn’t miss seeing the boys over at The House for anything. He hangs around for a while, and I’m almost glad for the company, even if it is the two of us sitting in silence. It’s the reminder I need that I’m no
t as alone as I think I am. I have a team. A family that supports me.
“You know my grandad?” Zander asks bizarrely, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
“Well, he once told my dad something, and he passed it down to me.”
“What’s that?”
“He told him that hurting is feeling and feeling is living.” He chuckles lightly. “I used to think it was pretty much bullshit. Who wants to hurt? Fuck if I did.” He laughs, and I can imagine a teenage Zander hearing that and thinking it was a load of shit. “But I get it now.” He continues quietly. Another beat of silence passes as I let his words filter through my mid.
“Use it, Tuck. Use the feelings. Don’t go back to that place inside yourself. The place where you use the wrong things to push away the pain.”
***
The back yard of The House is full of kids running everywhere. It’s total chaos. There’s a long line of tables full to bursting with plates of food, and there’s balloons dotted around every available space. Juggling the gift bags that are digging into my fingers, I search the sea of people for any of the birthday boys. Since two of them have birthdays in the same week, they asked for a joint party. I guess that explains why there seems to be kids everywhere.
Finally seeing Rylee standing with the boys, I make my way in her direction. I’m almost there when a familiar sound hits my ears. My chest constricts at the light laughter that floats across the space between us. My eyes scan the crowd, finding her without effort.
She’s kneeling on the grass, three little boys surrounding her. Each of them stares up at her like she’s an angel. With her long blonde hair down around her shoulders, they’re not the only ones. Her stunning face is lit up as one of the boys says something to her.
God, I miss her.
The thought slams into me, making my breath catch. I’ve been so consumed with anger since she came back, and seeing her now I can’t help but feel like it’s not really her I’m angry at. It’s me. I blamed her for our demise, when it was me. I caused it.
The realization is a bitter pill to swallow. The woman in front of me is a stranger because of my own actions. I can’t keep blaming her.
I’ve not really looked at her the few times we’ve been around one another. She’s changed so much. She’s still all long legs and gorgeous hair, but she’s filled out over the years. She’s not the girl that broke my heart. She’s all woman now.
One look at her and I know she’s even more dangerous for me than she was back then. For some reason, that thought doesn’t scare me like it should. What should scare me are the other thoughts that are currently running through my mind. Thoughts of how good she looks in that short summer dress she has on. Thoughts of those mile-long legs and how good they’d feel wrapped around me.
Get a fucking grip. Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away. For now, at least, I’m going to start by making some amends.
Brooke is back in my life, and I can’t help but think there’s a reason for that. Fate brought us back together, and I’m not about to let her go again. Not without a fight this time.
We were both stupid kids back then, playing at being in a relationship neither of us were mature enough to deal with. Now it’s time to show her that she’s not the only one who did some growing up over these last ten years.
CHAPTER NINE
BROOKE
I’m listening to Jacob, one of the boys whose birthday party is, tell me about all the gifts he’s gotten so far. His hands are flying everywhere as he animatedly fills me in on his day so far. Jared stands quietly next to us, but I can tell he’s enjoying today just as much. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile so much.
“You came!” I hear Jared shout right before he takes off running. Looking over my shoulder, my stomach drops at the sight of Tucker walking toward us. I want to keep looking at him, but I’m distracted by the sight of Jared taking a flying leap and throwing himself at Tuck. He doesn’t miss a beat, dropping the huge gift bags from both hands and catching him. They’re not close enough for me to hear what’s being said, but I’m still mesmerized by the smiles that light up both of their faces. It's obvious that they have spent some time together.
I’m so caught up in watching the scene in front of me, I miss my opportunity to escape. Before I know what’s happening, Tucker is standing next to me, the boys have their hands full of gifts, and they’re running over to where Rylee and Colton are.
Realizing we’re alone, I turn to leave, but I don’t get far before Tucker is grabbing my arm. I can’t help the way my body jerks back at the contact. I can’t forget the last time I saw him. I still have the fingertip bruises on my arms as a reminder of how Tucker feels about being around me.
“Brooke...” His pained voice rips through me.
“Let me go.” I wish I had it in me to say the words with the venom he deserves, but I’m weak. Always weak for him.
“Please. Let me apologize.” I’m frozen in place, and once again being around Tucker fries every ounce of sense I usually have. Does he deserve the chance to apologize? The things he said to me the last few times we’ve met, the way he’s treated me? What’s the point in saying sorry? It doesn’t erase the past. “Brooke, I need to apologize to you.”
Drawing up every bit of strength I have left, I turn to face him. God. He looks good. My mind betrays me by noticing how handsome he grew up to be. He filled out nicely, and he’s really working the rugged look with the short beard that covers his strong jaw.
I don’t miss how most of the adults around are staring at us. I feel the heat creep up my cheeks as the whispers start.
“People are watching, Tucker.” I look up at him, desperately needing him to let me go, let this whole thing go. “I don’t want to cause a scene.”
“I don’t care.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine. Typical of him to not give a fuck that everyone is watching this drama play out. He never did care what people thought of him. “Please, we need to talk.” His eyes beg for me to give him this.
“I can’t do this.” I whisper, dropping my eyes from his. I can’t keep looking at him. I’ll end up doing anything he wants if I keep staring into his eyes. I watch, fascinated as Tucker raises his hand as if he’s going to touch me, before he drops his hand back to his side, clenching his hand into a tight fist.
“Let me take you out later. We’ll get dinner, somewhere private.”
“Why?” I voice the one question that’s been bouncing around inside my mind since he stopped me from walking way.
“Why?” he repeats. Letting out a long breath, he steps closer. Close enough for me to feel how tense he is. “I’ve been vile to you. That’s not me, Brooke. I need you to know that’s not who I am now.”
Pushing my fear to one side, I risk another glance at his face. There’s no trace of the anger I’ve gotten used to seeing there recently. He looks at me, his eyes clear of any emotion, and all I can see is how much he needs me to really hear the words he’s saying. Something inside me shifts in this moment. I don’t know if it’s curiosity at what could come from going to dinner with him, or if it’s some kind of masochistic need to let him keep taking his anger out on me.
“Tucker, I don’t know if this is a good idea?” I’m not sure why it comes out as a question, but it does. I hate how weak it makes me sound.
“I think we need this, Brooke. Let me take you out later.” It’s a statement, not a question. I watch as he swallows deeply, mesmerized by the way his throat bobs.
“I’ll meet you.” I hear myself say the words, surprising the both of us. His whole body appears to deflate at my acquiescence.
“Give me your address and I’ll—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Finding the dregs of my inner strength, I stand firm on this. Tucker wants to apologize? Fine. I can be strong enough to make it through one conversation. But this isn’t a date where he’ll be picking me up and taking me home at the end of the night.
I need
to set the boundaries for this, and I definitely need to stick to them.
CHAPTER TEN
TUCKER
Checking my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, I see Brooke is late. She's not coming, the voice inside my mind tells me. Why would she? After the way I’ve treated her lately. She probably only agreed to come in the first place so that I’d get out of her face.
Sitting on the bench outside the small beachside coffee shop she agreed to meet me at, I can’t help but smile as I let my mind wander back to the first time I asked Brooke out on a date. Well, I didn’t actually ask her first.
Rubbing my hands down the leg of my jeans, I lift a clammy fist and knock on the door. I count to thirty before knocking one last time. If they don’t answer this time, I'll leave.
I'm halfway down the drive when I hear the door open. “Can I help you?” The hard voice booms from behind me. This is it, Tuck. You can keep walking and pretend you never heard him, or you can grow a pair and go face Brooke’s father. Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m turning around to face Duke Nash. Growing up with a dad like mine, there aren't many men that scare me. I’ve spent as long as I can remember dodging the wrath of a man who towers over me. But even years of beatings couldn't lessen the fear I feel standing here right now.
“Is there a reason you’re knocking on the door, Tucker?” This isn’t the first time I’ve been here; I’ve been friends with the twins since as long as I can remember, but it’s the first time I’ve been on my own with their dad. His huge frame fills the door as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at me.
“Mr. Nash,” I start, hoping I don’t make a complete dick out of myself. His eyes narrow.
“Which one?” he asks on a resigned sigh, realization dawning on his face.
