Beastly (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #3)

by Michelle Irwin

  Knowin’ there was no gettin’ rid of her when she was in that state, I took another mouthful of the whiskey and flicked the lock on the door before pullin’ it open. I tried to convey with my expression that I wasn’t in the mood for anythin’ she had to say.

  She stood on my doorstep with my cell phone in an extended hand. Across the screen, a series of spiderweb-like cracks spread from the point where it had hit the tree. When she saw me glance at it, she raised one brow. “Ya wanna talk about it?”

  “Nope. That’s why I told ya to go away.” I turned away from her, takin’ another swig of the Fireball in my hand as I did.

  “You really are drinkin’? It ain’t even eleven.”

  My answer was a shrug and another sip. It was a dangerous pattern I’d fallen into over the last few months, but the burn of the alcohol took the other aches away. Or at least numbed them for a while.

  “What happened?”

  I pointed the bottle of whiskey at her. “Phoebe Reede happened. Ag’in.”

  Cass reached for me, grabbin’ the bottle from my hand before searchin’ for the lid. “I don’t understand. The way you were yesterday, I thought y’all were back on track.”

  “I thought so too, but apparently not. She don’t wanna be with me.”

  Cass looked down at her stomach and traced her hands over her bump. “Maybe there’s a misunderstandin’?”

  “There ain’t no misunderstandin’. Not this time.”

  She lifted her gaze to mine. “How can you be so sure of that?”

  “The coldhearted . . .” Despite everythin’, I couldn’t bring myself to voice an insult against her. She might not have loved me, but that didn’t make what I felt any less real. “She tol’ me outright that she don’t love me. That she ain’t never loved me. That this was all just a game. Does that sound like a misunderstandin’?”

  “Well, no, but it don’t sound like the Phoebe I know either.”

  I scoffed. “’Cause y’all are best friends.”

  “Course we’re not, but over the last few days, I got to know her a little better. And I can’t see her sayin’ that. She cares about ya.”

  “She’s got a funny way of showin’ it. She didn’t even ask me to go with her back to North Carolina.”

  “Call her back, Beau. Find out what’s goin’ on. Don’t throw it away over nothin’.”

  “It ain’t nothin’. Ya didn’t hear her, Cass. She didn’t leave a single thang open to interpretation.” The hatred in her voice when she’d said she didn’t love me still burned through my mind, scorching the happy memories all over again.

  Cass swapped my SIM card into her cell phone and held it out to me. “Call her.”

  With a snarl, I snatched it from her and called up Phoebe’s number. All of the texts we’d shared were on my phone, and lost, but at least all my contacts were stored on the SIM card. “Are ya ready to deal with the fallout when this goes bad?”

  Cass rolled her eyes. “Just call her.”

  I swiped to call Phoebe and it instantly went to voice mail again.

  “Hey, you’ve got me,” she said, her voice full of mirth and hidden secrets. “Leave a message, if you want.”

  I huffed out a breath as I prepared to give her a piece of my mind. “Darlin’, it’s me. How could ya do this? After everythin’ we’ve been through. After—” I couldn’t finish the thought because Cass snatched the cell out of my hand and disconnected the call.

  “By call her, I meant talk to her. There ain’t no use leavin’ an angry voice mail.”

  “It’ll make me feel better, givin’ her a piece of my mind.”

  Cass laughed. “No it won’t. Not once you’ve calmed down. What you need is to blow off some steam. When’s your first race?”

  “A week from tomorrow,” I answered even though she already knew. It was a distraction technique, and I was willing to let her try to distract me. Better than lettin’ me wallow any longer.

  “So you’re headin’ down to Florida on Monday?”

  My mood sank again. I’d been plannin’ to take Phoebe with me when I went. We were supposed to spend the next few days together and then start her new career side by side. At least, that’s what I’d thought. Not only had she deserted me and played games, she’d done it while I was at my lowest. She’d left me alone and grievin’ just a few days before I turned twenty-five.

  Heartless . . .

  I sighed and pinched my brow. “I’m sorry, Cass. I ain’t feelin’ sociable. I’ll talk to ya later.”

  She rested her hand on my shoulder and nodded. “You know where I’ll be if ya need me.”

  Twistin’ my mouth into a knot, I nodded.

  “Are you still gonna have the party?”

  I sighed. The information for the party had already been posted to guests. Not the full details of who was going to be there, but enough that we couldn’t back out. “It’s too late to cancel, but that don’t mean I’m gonna be there.”

  “I’ll let the boys know they might be runnin’ it without ya.”

  After she’d gone, I locked the door and went in search of my guitar. There were still things I needed to arrange for Abby’s estate, but I couldn’t focus on anythin’.

  Guitar in hand, I selected a playlist on my tablet. It was one I’d set up after Phoebe left the first time, filled with songs of hope for reunions and sorrow for missed opportunities. Letting the music wash over me, I plucked at the strings and sang along whenever the mood took me.

  I was a teenager again, pinin’ away pathetically over the one girl who didn’t want me. It was ridiculous that I felt that way again. And over someone who was just eighteen. At her age, she shoulda been the one tragically in love and brokenhearted, not the one who did the leavin’ and the breakin’.

  When I couldn’t play anymore, I pulled out the letter she’d left the first time she was in the States, when she’d snuck out in the early hours of the mornin’. A note that had made me believe she’d felt somethin’ for me.

  She’d said she’d never loved me, but why was she in the States again if that was the case? Was it for me, or for the stock car racin’? When she’d let slip a few nights earlier that I was the reason she’d arrived in the States, it made more sense than just her tryin’ to settle some vendetta on the track. After all, it wasn’t like she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to race cars in her home country. If her daddy was willin’ to finance a team overseas for her, I doubted anythin’ woulda stopped him from puttin’ her in a car back home.

  But why tell me she was just playin’ a game? Unless the trip to the States was just part of the fun for her?

  Cassidee was right about one thing, Phoebe and I needed to talk. And if that meant waitin’ until the lead-up to the first race of the season, then so be it. She’d face me there whether she was ready to or not.

  AFTER RESOLVIN’ TO speak to Phoebe at the track, it was easier to push her out of my mind—momentarily. I’d spent the few days we shoulda had together settin’ things into motion with lawyers so I could focus on other things besides finalizin’ the details of Abby’s estate. Other than a small trust for Cass’s baby, everythin’ was bein’ donated to a number of charities related to Abby’s cause.

  Even when my birthday rolled around, I ignored everyone and finished my bottle of Fireball in my den rather than facin’ guests and fakin’ a smile or pretendin’ to enjoy my party and cake.

  The day I left for Florida was the first time I faced anyone, and that was only to check that Mitch and Joe were gonna be all right with Cass. Her due date was fast approachin’, and I didn’t want her left alone. The baby mightn’t have been mine, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t gonna be family or that I wasn’t gonna do everythin’ I could to ensure Cass was looked after.

  By the time I arrived in Daytona, I was anxious to talk to Phoebe—to demand the answers I deserved. Only, she didn’t arrive with the rest of the team. She was my focus, but that didn’t mean I could ignore everyone else. People approached m
e to wish me a happy birthday, or to run through some plannin’ for the race, but none of them was the one I wanted to see. My eyes scanned the crowd regularly, but I never saw her.

  “Where’s Phoebe?” I asked Jackson, certain that if anyone knew her schedule, it’d be her team manager.

  He rolled his eyes and slammed the clipboard in his hands down onto the bench. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  I frowned. “What d’ya mean?”

  “I mean she hasn’t turned up to any meetings I’ve tried to arrange and isn’t responding to any voice mails. It’s a mighty fine time for her to get cold feet.”

  It didn’t seem right. His statements didn’t gel with what I knew of Phoebe. Or at least, what I thought I knew. I’d seen her porin’ over track information, her in-car telemetry from practice laps, and videos of old races. She had a simulator set up in her livin’ room so that she could get in extra practice with the restricted track time. Even if she enjoyed playin’ games with hearts, she was dedicated out on the track. If she wasn’t, there was no way her daddy woulda entrusted her with the fortunes of a team—no race team woulda survived long with someone that irresponsible at the helm.

  “I’m sure she’ll turn up soon,” I said, uncertain why I was defendin’ her after what she’d done. Still, it didn’t sit with me that she’d let the whole team down on a whim.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Cash asked as I moved away from Jackson.

  “Have ya seen Phoebe?” Even as I spoke to Cash, my gaze trailed the crowd, tryin’ to find her unusual eyes.

  “No. She’s not flakin’ out now, is she?”

  I smacked his chest. “Don’t talk about her like that. She ain’t gonna flake. She’ll be here.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s right. I forgot we’re all on the pro-Phoebe train now.” He made the sound of a train whistle before pulling his lips up into a sneer.

  Pushin’ past him, I let my gaze trail the area again. “This ain’t about her and me. This is about her and the car. She wants to prove herself out there. ’Specially after what went down with Jase. She’ll be here.”

  I spent the rest of the day tryin’ to help with setup and plannin’ while keepin’ one eye peeled on every new arrival for the one I wanted to see. By the time I headed to the hotel for the night, I still hadn’t seen her.

  Maybe she doesn’t know how long it takes to set up. Maybe things are done differently in Australia.

  Despite my thoughts, designed to reassure me, I couldn’t shake the dread that had settled over my limbs and was twisting tighter around my chest with every passin’ hour. Couldn’t fight the feelin’ that somethin’ was wrong.

  She wasn’t at the track the next mornin’ either.

  “I think we need to have a contingency if Phoebe is a no-show,” Jackson said as he pulled me aside. Why he was talkin’ to me and not Dale was anyone’s guess, but I figured maybe our illustrious owner had decided to stay in North Carolina again, like he had for the better part of the end of the last season. It was no wonder things were fallin’ to pieces.

  “She’ll be here,” I said with a confidence I barely felt. I was startin’ to suspect somethin’ was wrong, but had no idea where to start checkin’ for more information. Any calls I made went straight through to voice mail. Her Facebook hadn’t been updated, and the messages I sent her on there went unseen. It didn’t even seem to matter who was callin’ or contactin’ her; everyone went unanswered. Surely she was just havin’ some time out?

  My stomach twisted.

  “But if she isn’t?”

  “Cash’ll have to do it. We ain’t got no one else.” I had no idea where that’d leave me as far as a race manager went, but that was the least of my worries.

  Jackson nodded. “I’ll get him to be ready just in case.”

  I clapped him on the back. “Thank ya. But she’ll be here. I know she will.”

  As I said the words, I saw someone else who might have spoken to Phoebe after she’d left my place. I raced across to him.

  “Xavier!” I shouted as I covered the distance between us.

  His blue eyes glinted with cold steel as he glanced up at me. It was clear he still harbored the same ill feeling toward me that he had since first befriendin’ Phoebe. It wasn’t surprisin’. It was never easy meetin’ the eye of someone who loved your girl. He’d seen through me long before I’d admitted anythin’ to Phoebe. We’d even had a few . . . encounters that she’d known nothin’ about. Still, I was willin’ to play friendly in order to get to the bottom of Phoebe’s whereabouts.

  “Have ya seen Phoebe?”

  For a moment, his eyes widened. Then he frowned and shook his head. “No. Not since she left for your place with her friend.”

  “Ya haven’t spoken to her?”

  “Oh, yeah, we’ve talked, but I haven’t seen her. She said she needed to go away for a little while, but that she was looking forward to going out when she came back.”

  My head spun as the words she’d said to me ran through my head. It was a reminder of the doubt I’d had over whether she mighta still been with him. Had she cheated on him with me? Was that why she’d said the things she had? “When did ya talk?”

  “A couple of days after she dropped her friend at the airport.”

  Around the same time as she’d called me. The day after we’d spent the night together. My stomach twisted and I wanted to vomit. I couldn’t breathe. “And she didn’t tell you where she was goin’?”

  “Sorry, she just said she needed some time to herself to think and she’d come back when she could.”

  “Is that all?”

  He frowned and glanced around. “Well, she told me that she loved me. That she wanted to commit herself fully to me, to us, but she needed some time away first. To prepare herself for what happens next.”

  The inklin’ of doubt over whether Phoebe still wanted me returned. Had I been the other man? I’d thought she’d used me that way once before, but I’d been wrong.

  Or had I? Maybe Max hadn’t lied, only exaggerated and stretched the truth. There were so many other coincidences that weren’t explained by his lies. The I love yous and the nights out. The men arrangin’ dates . . .

  She’d said she was playin’ games. Maybe her return alone to help me cope after Abby’s death was one of them. Maybe it was a game of cat ’n’ mouse for her. Setting me up to pursue her until she could claim another notch in her bedpost.

  Only, that didn’t feel right. It didn’t make no sense, because she coulda played her game and taken what she wanted the first night she sat with me in my hallway. I’d offered it all to her then. If all she wanted to do was prove she could hold my heart between her teeth, she coulda done that at any time.

  Still, she’d told Xavier she loved him after being with me. That she wanted to be with him. Whatever it was she and I had shared, maybe it meant nothin’ to her. Just like she’d tol’ me on the phone. My mind warred between the parts of me left hurt and betrayed—without even an “I love you” to comfort me—and the parts that were startin’ to suspect somethin’ was wrong.

  “For what happens next?” I repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  A twisted smile curved his lips. “Beats me, but I’m sure she’ll be back at my side as soon as she’s ready.”

  It would have been so easy to shatter his world. Five words could have taken away his happiness and smug smile. We spent the night together. I couldn’t do it though. He deserved to hear it from her mouth, not mine. I wouldn’t get in the middle of their relationship—it wasn’t my place. If Phoebe had decided for certain he was the one she wanted, I wouldn’t ruin it for her—even though it was dang temptin’. “Thank ya, Xavier.”

  “Anytime. And when I hear anything more from her, anything at all, you’ll be the first to know.”

  I walked away from him feelin’ like I’d left my stomach behind. Without a backward glance at Xavier, I went in search of Jackson and Cash. If Phoebe was off somewhere tryin’
to find herself, well, then we needed a contingency plan in place for gettin’ the car on the track if—when—she didn’t turn up. I wouldn’t let her stupidity risk her parents’ investment, or our shared team’s reputation. Until we could talk to Dale to confirm what he wanted to do, we’d just have to do our best to put together a plan.

  Dale turned up on the Thursday. He pulled Jackson, Cash, and me aside to advise he’d received an e-mail from Phoebe, sayin’ the same sort of things she’d said to me on the phone. Then he said he’d been unable to confirm her parents’ desire, so we were goin’ to run with the plan the three of us had set.

  For the rest of the week, and the whole weekend, I was torn in two. I went from hopeful and expectin’ Phoebe to turn up with an apology for bein’ late to her first race meet to needin’ to give her a piece of my mind.

  Each hour that passed without her arrival made my blood run that li’l bit hotter. How could she risk the team for her own petty reasons? I’d turned up regardless of my personal issues. I’d barely buried my sister and yet was there to fulfill my commitments.

  No matter how irritated her lack of attendance made me, I couldn’t help but wonder whether there was more to it. She didn’t seem the sort to shirk her responsibility. Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I’d thought, but I woulda sworn black and blue that family and work were two things she’d never let down.

  When the weekend ended with still no sign of her, and no returned calls to Jackson or me, the feeling grew that somethin’ was wrong.

  Very wrong.

  But what?

  ALTHOUGH IN PREVIOUS years, I’d always stayed in Daytona straight through to the following week, I couldn’t be stationary after Phoebe’s no-show. I needed to go back to North Carolina to see if she’d left anythin’ that could clue me in on her thoughts before she disappeared.

  Bookin’ a flight for Wednesday mornin’ so I’d be back in time for the races, I drove back to Richards Racing headquarters—using the time on the road to clear my head. I could’ve left my truck in Florida and flown back to North Carolina, but I didn’t want to leave my car unprotected so far away. At least, I would be able to put my truck into the team’s preferred airport parking at Charlotte to keep her safe.