by Debra Kayn
CHASING HIS FOX
By
Debra Kayn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
CHASING HIS FOX
1st release: Copyright© 2019 Debra Kayn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Part One | Chapter 1 | Scarlett | May 1982
Chapter 2 | Nelson | August 1982
Chapter 3 | Scarlett | September 1982
Chapter 4 | Nelson | June 1983
Chapter 5 | Scarlett | December 1984
Chapter 6 | Nelson | May 1984
Chapter 7 | Scarlett | August 1985
Chapter 8 | Scarlett | May 1986
Chapter 9 | Nelson | July 1986
Chapter 10 | Scarlett | September 1986
Part Two | Chapter 11 | Scarlett | Summer 1996
Chapter 12 | Nelson
Chapter 13 | Scarlett
Chapter 14 | Nelson
Chapter 15 | Scarlett
Chapter 16 | Scarlett
Chapter 17 | Nelson
Chapter 18 | Scarlett
Chapter 19 | Nelson
Chapter 20 | Scarlett
Chapter 21 | Scarlett
Chapter 22 | Nelson
Chapter 23 | Scarlett
Chapter 24 | Nelson
Chapter 25 | Scarlett
Chapter 26 | Scarlett
Chapter 27 | Nelson
Chapter 28 | Scarlett
Chapter 29 | Nelson
Chapter 30 | Scarlett
Chapter 31 | Nelson
Chapter 32 | Scarlett
Chapter 33 | Nelson
Chapter 34 | Scarlett
Chapter 35 | Nelson
Chapter 36 | Scarlett
Chapter 37 | Nelson
Epilogue | Nelson
Author Bio
Debra Kayn's Backlist
Sneak Peek | The Sandbar saga
Prologue
Part One | Katie | Chapter 1
Dedication
To the neighborhood kids – Baseball games in the vacant lot. Bike races over the mounds in the field. Going house to house from dawn to dusk. Running away from killer sparrows. Playing under the street lights. Skateboarding on every hill, hitting curbs to fly. Sharing chewed gum and half-filled Pepsi bottles. Dinging and ditching. Secret forts. Forming gangs. Our imaginations never stopped us from wasting hours and summers.
Kid Rock and Uncle Kracker said it best. "Damn, it feels good to be me."
Everyone has a reason why they joined a motorcycle club.
This is Nelson and Scarlett's story.
Part One
Chapter 1
Scarlett
May 1982
TWO DROPS OF BLOOD landed on the plywood board. Scarlett squeezed her hand, trying to stop the flow from where the nail pierced her skin. Fear rolled through her, staunching the tears.
"Scarlett, get down from there," yelled Nelson.
She scooted on her bottom to the corner of the treehouse, away from the opening. "This is all your fault, Nelson Steel."
"You can come down. I put Butch in the garage."
Not believing him, she pulled her knees up to her chest, hiding her hand against her stomach. She hated Nelson's dog.
Butch was mean and scary like Nelson's dad, who always glared at her whenever he spotted her hanging around Steel Mechanics. She sniffed and lifted her hand to inspect the cut. The bleeding only bubbled on the surface of her skin.
"Come on." Nelson stuck his head into the opening of the treehouse and looked around. "It's not safe to be up here."
His dark hair fell in front of his eyes, and he whipped his head back to move the strands. His brown eyes softened in concern. He wasn't mad at her.
She scooted over to him. "You told me Butch was tied up."
"He must've gotten loose."
The boards underneath her creaked. He slipped his hands in her armpits and lifted her to the edge. She dangled her legs over the board, and trusting him, leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him pack her down the skinny ladder rungs.
Nelson's foot slipped, and his arm came around her as they slid to the next board. "I should tear this damn thing down."
As long as she'd lived next door, the treehouse had been in the vacant lot between her house and Steel Mechanics. Though she'd never seen anyone climb the tree. Nelson and his two brothers, Ollie and Josh, were too old to play.
He put her down and grabbed her hand. She held still while he inspected her cut.
"I'm going to have to cut your arm off."
"Nuh-uh." She jerked her arm, but he refused to let it go. "It's only a scratch."
"Yeah, fox." He stepped closer and used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the blood away. "You'll live."
She careened her neck around Nelson, looking for Butch. One of the garage doors in the back of the building banged, and she grabbed his shirt, hiding her face in the material. He might've closed the two exits in the back, but there were three garage doors that were open during business hours in the front of the building.
Butch could sniff her out and run around the side if he wanted to bite her.
Nelson reached behind him and grabbed her by the back of the neck, bringing her around to the side of him.
Wrapping her arm around his waist, she hugged herself to him. Butch hated her.
Nelson had told her Butch was around to keep people from ripping them off and taking tools out of the garage. She couldn't believe anyone would steal from them, but the big, black dog with the tan markings would keep anyone away.
She worried about Nelson getting bit because the dog would even growl at him.
"I'll walk you home." Nelson's hand eased on her neck, and he urged her to walk.
She stumbled beside him over the large pieces of gravel, refusing to leave his side. Mr. Steel, Nelson's dad, liked having the dog loose on the property. If the dog's barking bothered him, he'd look outside and then yell at her as if it was her fault for interrupting the dog's day.
He'd done it before.
In the back lot, only three other cars parked in the area. That wasn't many places to hide if Butch broke out. With the dog behind her in the garage, she hurried Nelson to go faster. She would never have snuck over to see Nelson, but Chuck, her stepdad, was home and drinking.
Chuck worked the graveyard shift at the local mill. When he wasn't sleeping, he stayed in the garage and drank beer. Because those were the only two things he liked to do at home, he was tired and grouchy most of the time.
Luckily, once she'd turned twelve years old earlier that year, her mom let her play outside in the backyard when Chuck was home to keep her out of the house.
Chuck hated children and believed she shouldn't be seen or heard. In fact, today, he'd told her to get the hell out of the garage and go somewhere else to play when she tried to get her bicycle when he wasn't looking.
Hazel, her older sister, had moved out when Chuck mo
ved in. She stayed with two friends in a two-bedroom apartment and had to sleep on the couch. Hazel was eighteen years old and worked at the same grocery store as their mom.
Once a week, Hazel came over and took Scarlett out for ice cream. She was too old for treats to make her happy. But, because she wanted Hazel to keep coming to see her, she pretended ice cream was her favorite thing in the world.
Nelson pushed the top of two fence boards, making the bottom of them pop out. She dropped to her knees and crawled through the opening he created for her, back to her own yard. For as long as Scarlett could remember, the boards had always moved like that. She only found out about the easy escape when she'd spied on Nelson and his brothers sneaking away from Mr. Steel when she was little.
She wasn't tall enough to push the fence but found out she could pry the bottom open with her fingers and squeeze underneath.
"Nelson?" She peeked between the old fence boards. "Don't let Butch out until I'm in the house, okay?"
The dog could also work the fence and squeeze underneath when he wasn't on a chain.
"Is Chuck drinking?" Nelson took his pocketknife out of his pocket and flipped the blade open, then cleaned under his fingernails. "Don't lie to me."
Nelson hated people who drank like Mr. Steel, who was a mean drunk. Chuck wasn't mean, he just didn't like kids around.
She sighed. It would be easy for Nelson to find out if she lied.
"Yeah, but I'll sneak in the house," she whispered. "He won't do anything but tell me to go outside and play if he catches me."
Chuck wasn't like Mr. Steel. Her stepdad had never hit her. He just wanted her to stay away so she couldn't tell her mom he was drinking. He thought he was hiding the alcohol from everyone, but after a couple beers, he no longer cared who seen him.
"I'll put Butch on his chain until your mom comes home." Nelson glanced at her through the space between the boards. "She should be home in an hour, and then I'll have to let the dog loose."
Warmth filled her. "Thanks, Nelson."
"Go play until your mom gets home, and stay away from Chuck." Nelson walked away.
She squinted, watching him until he disappeared around the building. Since Nelson graduated from high school, he worked all the time.
He must be good at what he does because when he wasn't fixing a car, he worked on his motorcycle outside because his dad wouldn't let him use the garage unless he was earning money. That's how he'd heard her creeping through the back lot. She would've snuck past him, too, if it hadn't been for stupid Butch.
She sat down by the fence, wishing she was across the street from Nelson's house in the blackberry bushes. It'd taken her two months to cut out a hidey-hole where she could watch him from the other side of the block.
Spying on Nelson helped the hours go by faster until her mom came home. Ever since they moved into the house when she was five years old and spotted Nelson, Ollie and Josh hiding behind the building from the window of her bedroom on the second story, she'd found the three boys fascinating, if not scary.
They never wanted a little girl around, though. Even Nelson, being the youngest Steel brother, was eight years older than her. She picked a blade of grass. That would make him twenty years old now.
She hoped he never moved away like her sister. If he were gone, she'd have nobody around to talk with and keep her company.
A dog barked on the other side of the fence. Scarlett jumped to her feet, ready to run. Beyond the fence, she could barely see Butch at the end of his chain, straining to get to the back of the lot. To her.
Shoving her hands in her pockets, she walked toward her house. She missed Hazel.
When her sister lived at home, she had someone to tag around with and talk to. They were the Color Sisters—that's what their mom called them.
Each named for something her mom noticed about them after they were born. Hazel—for the color of her eyes. Scarlett—for the color of her hair.
It was a silly thing to do. If she ever had kids, she'd name them something normal and easy to spell. Like Amy or Bree.
She walked through the sliding glass door of the house, stopped in the kitchen, and got a drink of water from the faucet. If she would've been born first and bald, she could've been named Green—for her eyes. Instead, she was born with red hair and named Scarlett.
No one ever heard of Scarlett colored hair. It was auburn or just plain red.
"Scarlett," yelled Chuck. "Bring me another beer."
She glanced at the open door leading to the garage, estimating if she had enough time to run outside, pretending she hadn't heard—
"Scarlett!"
She sighed, opened the fridge, grabbed the last bottle on the bottom shelf, and walked to the garage. A stench tickled her nose. She pinched her nostrils and handed Chuck the can.
"What's your problem." Her stepdad opened the beer and tilted it back.
"It stinks."
"Then, get out of here." Chuck turned his back on her and tinkered in his toolbox.
She held her breath, let go of her nose, and grabbed her bike, rolling it out of the garage. In the driveway, she exhaled and hopped on the seat.
Pedaling fast before Chuck changed his mind, she rode out on the street. Only allowed to ride around the block when her mom was at work, she weaved around the parked cars and turned at Mrs. Philamin's house, cutting through the empty lot at the end of the block.
Barely slowing, she popped the front of the tire off the ground and hopped onto the sidewalk, staying away from the busy main road. Looking ahead, she prepared to ride fast if Butch was loose out front, but she spotted the heavy chain around his neck, laying in the parking lot, so she slowed.
Nelson's head popped over the seat of his motorcycle as he worked on the engine. She braked and put her feet down, waiting until he stopped what he was doing.
Butch barked and charged his chain. She put her foot on the bike pedal, prepared to ride off if he slipped his collar.
Nelson straightened and looked at her. "I thought you were going home?"
"How'd you know I was here?" She jumped off the bike, letting it fall to the sidewalk, and walked to the motorcycle and stood in front of the tire, out of view of Butch.
"Butch only barks like that when you're on the property." He wiped his hands off on his jeans, leaving black streaks.
She shrugged. "He barks at everyone."
He picked up his wrench. "You tease him."
"No, I don't."
"Do, too," he said.
"Don't," she mumbled, walking away from him.
"Do."
She looked over her shoulder, glared, and mouthed, "Don't."
She got on her bike and rode away without looking back. He always tried to get the last word, but she knew if she stayed and argued with him, he'd end up laughing at her. She hated it when he made fun of her.
Chapter 2
Nelson
August 1982
THE AIR COMPRESSOR started downstairs in the garage. Nelson grabbed the third piece of toast he'd made and shoved half of it in his mouth before pulling on his boots. His dad would beat the shit out of him if he was late opening up the business.
He walked down the stairs, closing the door to the living area, and finished his breakfast. Wiping the crumbs off his mouth with his forearm, he spotted his oldest brother, Ollie, unwinding the hose from the reel. A quick look around without seeing his dad, and he relaxed.
Most nights, his dad fell asleep in the office downstairs after drinking his weight in beer.
Butch barked. Nelson checked the food and water bowl, surprised that someone had fed the dog already. Unlatching the end of the chain, he walked Butch out to the strip of grass in the front of the building and secured him to the ring to do his morning shit before he went back inside.
As the compressor shut off, he asked, "Where's Josh?"
"He headed over to the parts store to see if they had any U-joints for the Ranger parked out front." Ollie fired up a blunt and held it out
to Nelson.
"Nah, I'm good." He rolled his tool chest toward the lift.
He was the only one in his family last night who hadn't partied. When he'd gone to bed, the other three, plus the ex-convict friends of his dad that had shown up after closing, were well on their way to being fucked up. He suspected the only thing that got Ollie and Josh up in time to work was the fear of their dad waking up first and beating their ass for not keeping the business going.
His dad's heavy-handedness about being responsible was a joke. Everyone in Missoula knew Tank Steel preferred the bottle more than being fair in prices and doing decent work. At twenty years old, Nelson's reputation and success had succeeded anything his father had built over the years.
He'd painted his first car when he was thirteen years old. Rolled out his first rebuild on a turbodiesel V-8 engine at fifteen years old. He could take a totaled car and make it new again, straightening the frame, until it rolled in a perfect line. Insurance companies hadn't sent anyone to oversee his work in over a year. They knew by experience that if a vehicle left Steel Mechanics, it was done right.
Books and teachers hadn't taught him a damn thing. His dad's fists and child labor had beaten him until he had no other option but to be the best at what he could do.
Ollie and Josh had it easy compared to him. They worked when they wanted and stuck to running the money side of the business.
He brought Butch back into the garage. Hopefully, the dog would stay quiet when his dad woke up. He couldn't count the number of times his dad let the dog loose to shut Butch up. Each time, he was afraid a customer would get bit.
Or worse, Butch would attack Scarlett.
There was no reason for Butch to go after the neighbor girl. She'd never hurt the dog. He suspected her red hair and small body enticed Butch. The dog probably thought she was a fox, skirting the property all the time.
Nelson grabbed the keys off the pegboard for the Chevy Silverado. Pulling the truck into the first bay between the two posts, he walked around the vehicle, squaring the lift, then hit the button for the hydraulic.
