Rett

by Tess Oliver

  RETT

  (CUSTOM CULTURE, #4)

  TESS OLIVER

  RETT

  Copyright© 2014 by Tess Oliver

  Cover Design by: Avanti Graphics

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chater 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Strangely Normal

  Tess Oliver

  CHAPTER 1

  Rett

  A slim hand slapped my bare chest, and I opened my eyes into the darkness. The girl attached to the hand was still fast asleep, snoring softly against her pillow. My fingers wrapped completely around her wrist as I gently lifted her hand off of me. Without a sound, I rolled toward the edge of the bed and moved to lower my feet to the ground. Something held my leg. A cold metal cuff was locked around my ankle. I pulled and twisted my foot but it was no use. I was trapped in the bed. I struggled against the shackle. A shadowy figure sat up on the bed, and a pretty blonde girl stared down at me. Her eyes nearly glowed with rage as she lifted a gleaming knife above my chest. Her cackle echoed off the unfamiliar walls, and I writhed against my restraints. Her mouth opened into a wicked smile to expose long, yellow teeth. I sat up with a yell.

  I sucked in a deep breath. Morning light poked through the slats of the blinds covering my bedroom windows. I looked around to assure myself that it had been a bad dream. My crap was littered all over the room, and Taylor’s laughter skittered down the hall.

  I combed back my hair with my fingers and swung my feet to the floor. I was free. No crazy woman had bound me to her bed, but the whole nightmare hadn’t been all that far-fetched. Scotlyn would blame the bad dream on karma, but I was pretty sure it had been the jalapeños on my burrito. Still, Scottie was right. She always teased me that one day I’d meet a girl that would be too hard to walk out on. And maybe she was right, or maybe I never wanted to stick around long enough to find that girl. Sometimes escape was just easier. But I really needed to stop my endless parade of one night stands.

  I pulled on my jeans and walked to the kitchen. Taylor was sitting at the table picking the sesame seeds off a bagel, and Jimmy was leaning into the refrigerator.

  Taylor’s plump, pink lips were fighting a grin. “What were you up to this morning, Rett? Sounded like you found a monster under your bed.”

  “No monsters, Tater Tot.” I pointed questioningly toward the bag of bagels, and she nodded her consent.

  Jimmy straightened with a carton of milk in his hand. “Rough night?”

  I patted my stomach. “Too much spicy food before bed, that’s all.” I sat at the table and pulled a bagel from the bag.

  Jimmy pulled up a chair and sat across from me. His big feet kicked the table as he stretched out his long legs. Ever since I could remember, my brother had had a hard time fitting at any regular table. “Hey, if you’ve got nothing to do today, we’re driving down toward the beach. Some guy is selling a 1970 GSX and I’m going to check it out.”

  “Sounds great but I’m going to try a little motocross action up at Lake Piru. Cole will be here in a few minutes to pick me up.” I took a big bite of bagel.

  “Motocross? But you don’t have any gear, or any bike, for that matter.”

  “Cole has everything I need.”

  Jimmy shook his giant blond head and it was obvious an unwanted nugget of brotherly advice was coming next. “Rett, I don’t know if it is such a good idea to get so chummy with the owner’s son. If something comes between you two then you’re out of a job. And this has been the first steady job you’ve ever held.”

  “You worry too much. Besides, now that Dray is back together with Cassie, I’ve got no one to hang out with. Cole and I have a lot in common.”

  Taylor laughed. “Like what— sleeping with every girl you meet? That’s probably why this guy, Cole, is so glad to have Rett, the chick magnet, around. Or maybe it’s the opposites attract thing. He’s mega rich and you’re mega poor.”

  I reached for the milk. “First of all, Cole needs no help from me with girls, and, secondly, Tater Tot, you and Scottie have this insane notion that I’m just jumping from bed to bed every night, sleeping with every female member of the human race I meet.”

  “That about sums it up.” Jimmy lifted the carton, tossed back the rest of the milk and swallowed with a sigh. “It’s got to be the girls. Why else would this rich guy want to hang out with you.”

  “And fuck you too, Jimmy. People like to hang out with me. You’re the Mason with the asshole reputation. Not me.”

  Taylor plucked off some more sesame seeds. “He has a point.”

  Jimmy lifted a brow at her, but she went on defacing the bagel. “Taylor, why the hell didn’t you just take the plain bagel?”

  “I like the sesame ones.” She tore off a piece and brought it to her lips.

  Taylor was the kind of girl who could sweep through a room and render all the guys silent. But the only guy she’d ever had eyes for was my brother, Jimmy, or Clutch as everyone else called him. Taylor had had her sights set on my brother since she was sixteen, and everyone knew they’d end up together. Jimmy’s best friend, Nix, had found his true love with Scotlyn, a girl whose picture he’d carried in his wallet for a year before he’d even met her. Their love had been strangely predestined. And there had only ever been one girl for Dray, a guy who I’d always considered to be my best friend. Cassie was the one person who could keep Dray grounded. I had never found my match, and sometimes I wondered if I would even allow myself to find her.

  “Well, always a pleasure having breakfast with you two.” I pushed back my chair. “I’ve got to get ready. You two have a safe drive to the beach, and I’ll see you later.”

  “Take it easy out there. I’m not paying for any broken fucking bones,” Jimmy called as I left the kitchen.

  ***

  A flash of red passed me, and as Cole raced by, he kicked his bike sideways. A hurricane of dirt and gravel flew at my face, pinging off the lens of my goggles. The helmet fit snugly around my chin and face, but the bitter, salty taste of the dirt found its way into my mouth. I squeezed the throttle and raced after Cole.

  We’d only been at the track for a few hours and I’d barely ridden ten laps around, but every muscle in my body ached. I squinted through the hazy goggles and focused on the Honda ahead of me. Cole was skilled, and I was a complete novice. The only thing I had on my side was what Jimmy referred to as my ‘complete disregard for mortality’. Growing up the youngest of five boys, and with parents who hardly paid attention to anything I did, had made me stupidly fearless.

  With the faint reminder from my brother not to break any bones drifting through
my head, I poured it on just as I hit a jump. My front tire lifted and the bike got some respectable air, or at least in my mind it had. I managed to stay upright, but just barely, as my tires slammed back down to the ground. The jarring sensation sent pain through my tired hands and shaky arms. I leaned down farther over the handlebars and twisted the throttle. Just as my front tire reached Cole’s back tire, his bike flew into the air and he pulled away from me. I was spent, and my arms and legs twitched with fatigue. The exit gate was around the next curve. I rode off the track and headed back to the truck, defeated and dead tired.

  A long line of trucks and vans bordered the fence along the track. Dust burned my eyes as I yanked off the goggles and pulled my helmet and gloves off. The loud, almost irritating, buzz of the bike motors mixed with the loud music roaring from the speakers on the truck next to us. Cole came off the track and his bike vibrated as he rolled toward the truck.

  I reached into the ice chest, pulled out two bottles of water and plunked down hard on the fold-out chair. Cole took off his helmet and gear and sat in the chair across from me. He rubbed his hand through his hair, and sweat and dirt caused it to stand straight up on his head.

  “Not bad for a newbie, Mason.”

  I tossed him the second bottle of water. “Except that I feel like I just ran a fucking marathon while holding a shitload of bricks with both arms. That is one tough ass sport.”

  “Hell yeah, those dudes at the top are like fucking Ironman . . . without the suit. Can’t believe you’ve never ridden before. Especially since you ride a motorcycle to work.”

  “Always wanted to, but motocross was for kids with money.” I turned my foot and looked down at the expensive boot protecting it. “My parents couldn’t have afforded any of this gear or a bike. I had four older brothers, and, as it was, I was always stuck with all the hand me down shit they grew out of. I’m the youngest and the smallest.”

  His eyes grew round. “You’re the smallest? Bloody hell. No wonder your parents had no money. It must have been like feeding a fucking army.”

  “Yep, my dad worked a couple jobs just to keep us fed and my mom had no time for being a mother because she had so much to do. And did you just say bloody hell?”

  He shrugged. “A phrase I learned from my dad. I’ve always lived with him. My mom is around still, but I don’t see her much. She used to be my dad’s accountant. Business and pleasure should never mix. But at least I still see her sometimes, which is more than I can say for my brother and sister.” He jumped up and looked out at the track. “Shit, that was a bad one.” I glanced in the direction he was staring. A rider was lying face down in the dirt, and his bike was a good ten feet away. Several people ran to his side as he sat up groggily. Cole sat back down.

  “I didn’t know you had a sister too, and why doesn’t she get to see your mom? Does she live far away?”

  “No she lives at home. She sees my mom sometimes. She just doesn’t see her own mom. Her mom travels a lot, and she and my dad had a bad break up.” Cole stared down at the bottle in his hand, and his expression hardened as if a bad memory had just resurfaced. “I had two sisters but one died when we were young. It put a strain on the marriage.”

  “Sorry to hear that. So you and your sister have different moms?”

  “All three of us have different moms. And we’re all just a year apart. Jude’s the oldest at twenty-four and Finley is twenty-two. Jude’s mom died in a car accident, and Fin’s mom took off to Europe after the divorce. My sister doesn’t talk about it much but I know it tore her up. My mom fought for custody, but my dad’s money bought the better lawyers. I would have stayed with him anyhow. He’s a great dad despite what people say about him. He and Jude sometimes get into it, but I think that’s because they are a lot alike.” He looked up at me. “Have you met Jude? He rarely comes to the work sites.”

  “No, you’ve only mentioned him, but I’ve never met him.”

  “Jude’s a real hard ass, but he’s a good brother.”

  I nodded. “Sounds like my brother.”

  The water cooled my parched throat as I downed the entire bottle and then reached for another. “The only time I’ve ever been this thirsty was when my buddy, Dray, and I got thrown into that shitty ass jail cell down in Mexico.”

  Cole sucked down his water and poured half the bottle over his head. “Yeah, that sounded pretty fucking sketchy. You never did tell me all the details about that.”

  I thought back to the trip and shook my head to obliterate the ugly visions. “Let’s just say some sick mother fuckers were running the place, and while I’d always known that Dray was one of the toughest dudes in the world, in those few days he made Superman look like a goddamned wuss.” I gulped down another bottle of water. “And when my brother showed up, I thought the guards were going to piss their pants.” I looked over at Cole. “You need to meet Jimmy. One of his nicknames is Viking. Fucking giant. Kingston Construction was rebuilding his burned down garage when your foreman, Harris, hired me.”

  “Yeah, I think I was already working on that house up in wine country.” Cole stretched out his legs and clumps of red mud fell off his boots. “How did your brother’s garage burn down?”

  “Neighbor’s house was on fire and while we were pulling her out, Jimmy’s garage burned. He had a sixty-five Shelby sitting in there waiting to be restored.”

  Cole leaned forward and snatched up the bag of chips leaning against the ice chest. “That sucks. So those scars on your shoulders really did come from saving a girl from a burning house?” He grabbed out a handful of chips and offered me some.

  The scars were on my back so I hardly thought of them, but that night was still etched strongly in my mind. “You didn’t believe me, huh?”

  “Nah, I guess not. But that’s cool. Don’t know if I’d be so quick to jump into a burning building.” Cole’s attention was caught by something behind me and he lifted his chin. “Here come the Volcano Energy Drink girls. Passing out flyers to a promotion party, no doubt.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder. The two girls were dressed in the typical black miniskirts and leather halter tops. They struggled across the rough ground in their tall black boots. The ginger haired girl smiled down at Cole and handed him a blue paper. She looked over at me and her smile broadened. “You two boys really need to come to the Volcano party tonight. We need some hotties like you to liven things up.”

  Cole read the flyer in his hand and then leaned back in his chair. “Instead, why don’t you two come to our party. It will be very private. Just the four of us and some wine and some music and whatever we can come up with for entertainment.”

  Scotlyn and Taylor thought I was a player, but I was sitting across from a guy who made me look as novice with girls as I was out on the dirt track.

  The girls laughed, and I was sure the brunette was going to sit in his lap. Instead she leaned over him and her lips came close to his. “Come to the party and maybe afterward we can split off for the private one.” She straightened. We watched as they walked away.

  Cole rocked back on the two rear legs of the chair. “Rett, you and I could rule the world together.” He dropped the chair back down. “Of course, we might die trying.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my friends have been warning me about.” I smiled to myself. “This morning I had a weird dream that some gruesome looking chick had me chained to her bed. I’d had a burrito last night from this place where I swear that they soak their jalapeños in fucking turpentine. I’ve got to stop eating that shit before bed.” I’d done a great job assuring myself that it had been the spicy food and not my conscience that had produced the nightmare, but it had gnawed at me all morning. “Most of my high school friends were a bunch of flakes, so my closest friends have always been my brother and his buddies, Nix and Dray. Especially Dray. We always got along because we were both great at getting into trouble. But all three of them have these amazing girlfriends. It was as if they all had these perfect girls waiting for them, and
sometimes, I hate to admit, I envy them. There has never been any girl out there that seemed to be meant for me, but I think I’m getting tired of jumping from girl to girl.”

  Cole reached into the ice chest for a sandwich and tossed me one as well. “Oh, come on, Bro, don’t start getting all sentimental on me now. There is so much variety to choose from out there. Can you imagine walking into an ice cream shop and ordering vanilla every time?” He plowed the sandwich into his face and wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Boring,” he muttered over a mouthful of food.

  “Do you mean you’ve never thought about sticking with one girl for a change?”

  He shrugged. “Occasionally. But my dad has been with at least a thousand different girls, and, I have to say, he is pretty damn happy.”

  I lowered my sandwich. “A thousand? Come on, Dude, the only guys who have been with a thousand girls are fucking rock stars. I know your dad is rich but—” I looked at him. “I’ve never asked— how did your dad make so much money? Construction?”

  Cole’s eyes rounded. “You don’t know, really?”

  I shook my head and took a bite of sandwich.

  “See, that’s what I like about you, Rett. You could give a shit about stuff like that. I was sure you would have heard from the big mouthed jerks we work with. Kingston is our family name, but my dad goes by the name of King.” He looked at me apparently expecting some type of response, but I continued chewing my sandwich.

  He leaned forward. “Nicky King, as in Black Thunder’s Nicky King.”

  A piece of bread caught in my throat, and I drank some water to wash it down. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”