Turn & Burn: Revenge is a Red-Headed B*tch (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 2)

by Eden Connor

  Your shoe size is definitely bigger than your fucking IQ.

  I let the strap slide through my fist, clenching the buckle. Watching through narrowed eyes, I waited until he swapped hands. When he raised his right arm, he still stared at the sky.

  I drew back and slung my arm forward, in the motion I’d use to go bowling. The Fiberglass helmet slammed into the spot between Barnes’ thighs.

  “Oof!” His legs buckled. Watching his kneecaps hit the concrete made my headache ease.

  “Don’t. Wreck. The. Cars. You’re the reason we can’t have nice things.” He fell onto his side and curled into a ball. I rolled my eyes. “Drama Queen.”

  Mack Brown began to cough, a hideous, wracking wheeze.

  Turning, I collided with a slender guy wearing a rescue squad uniform.

  “Fine,” I spat at the bespectacled attendant, shrugging off his hands. “I’m fucking fine.” I waggled the fingers of my left hand, annoyed by the tingling sensation, but my fingers moved. “You might wanna check on the sheriff. Barnes is faking. Asshole don’t have no balls, just shit for brains.”

  I stalked toward Dale and my stepbrothers, who had slowed considerably. Well, actually, they had their hands on the knees and were doubled over. Their laughter ricocheted off the barriers.

  I stalked past them. I felt... weird. My heart raced. My chest ached. I wanted to slap every face in sight. I had to get myself under control. Too many eyes were on me. I refused to fall apart in front of these Kolby Barnes fans. The tunnel beckoned.

  Caroline jumped off the truck tailgate. “Don’t.” I raised my hand. “I just need to be alone for a few minutes.”

  It seemed to take forever to reach the tunnel. The crowd’s shouts and jeers hurt my head, but at last I made it. I stopped about ten feet inside and leaned my forehead against the cool block wall.

  All I’d been through—all this family had been through for this fucking race—for nothing. No doubt, Dale would owe Lee for using the facility. He’d spent a fortune on gasoline alone. Not to mention all the parts he’d used to make the engine swap.

  I recognized the footsteps behind me. “Please, Dale, don’t. Not yet. I just need a few minutes.” I had to wrap my head around all that my stepfather had lost before I could look him in the eye.

  I jerked my head up. The engine. Mr. Ridenhour’s engine. Was it okay? Was that what the prick had tried to do, demolish that engine? I should go whack him in the nuts again.

  “There damn well better not be tears in those pretty eyes. Rather have a hot poker shoved up my ass than see that. This is the best fuckin’ day I’ve had in a long time.”

  “What?” I whirled, wincing at the sharp pinch at the base of my neck when my left shoulder scraped the block wall. “How? That... that prick ruined everything! He reneged on the bet. He wrecked your four million dollar car. He destroyed the damn Audi. Now, you don’t have the money to start your own race team. And it’s all my fault, for pulling his dick.”

  His grin flashed in the gloom, but the tunnel shaded his eyes. “Now that alone was worth the price of admission. Girl, don’t you know people come to the track for the grudge matches, not the damn cars? This race? Successful beyond my wildest dreams.”

  Successful? I could only stare. The gas fumes had gone to his head. I was sure of it, actually. My eyes still watered from the fumes. It felt like a thousand hornets drove their stingers into the muscle between my neck and my shoulder. Shaking from the adrenaline surging through me, I leaned against the cold wall, but the damn suit blocked the soothing chill I sought.

  “It’s a fucking disaster.”

  He shook his head, moving closer. “Shelby, honey, tonight, you ran the fastest quarter mile that’s ever been turned here with a six speed. Lee Haney’s gonna have to close this place soon, but that old man’s feet ain’t never gonna touch the ground again till he dies, because he had a hand in lightin’ that fire in you. The whole fuckin’ world—well, my whole fuckin’ world—is gonna be crowing over the videos everybody took, showin’ you knockin’ Kolby’s nuts around every possible way.”

  “But the ‘Cuda—” Pain shut off my breath.

  He stopped in front of me. “Girl, you know how I feel about trailer queens. Ain’t gonna own no damn car I can’t drive into the ground. That one that sold out in Reno was in cherry condition. Nobody never enjoyed her. This’un was worth about a hundred grand the night I won her. Prices kept climbin’ and it grated on Jesse that he lost it. So, he’s been tryin’ to buy it back ever since. The day I called you, he’d upped his offer to three hundred grand, and I took him up on the deal. Now, after Caine does the bodywork, he’ll still gimme two, because it’s the car that beat Kolby Barnes. She’s got a legend now. And the stories are what sell these old buckets of rust. But you already knew that.”

  “You won the car... off Jesse Hancock?” Not possible. Caine would’ve told me.

  I couldn’t see his face clearly, but satisfaction rang in his voice. “The title was in his name. That’s why it took me so long to put it on the road. As long as I didn’t title it, I could look at Hancock’s signature and laugh.”

  My head swam. I jerked the zipper down on the Nomex suit, desperate for a breath of air, trying to keep Dale’s wide grin in focus.

  “Now, my young’uns done proved they can work together. Thanks to you, I know who’s wearin’ the pants in Jamie’s household, so I won’t be makin’ him a partner, because I don’t have no use for that connivin’ bitch Bliss. Once Caine gets the Audi all fixed up, you’ll have one hell of a ride, sweetheart. Best of all, Richard knows now, his boy ain’t got no character.”

  Footsteps echoed. Dale and I both turned toward the figures headed our way. The glare of lights from the grandstand cast the two as shadows, but their heights were too different to be Colt and Caine.

  “Dale.”

  I didn’t recognize the masculine voice, but when the pair stopped a few feet away, I made out Jesse Hancock’s face. My attention was drawn to the slender figure at his side. Her hair.

  Dear God, the young woman with Hancock had cut her hair in a mannish style shorter than Dale’s. A wild cowlick curved flat around her face, but the rest stood up straight. Human hair just didn’t come in that shade of platinum, but the effect drew my eyes to hers like a magnet. Even in the dim tunnel, those dark eyes snapped with life—or anger.

  Has to be Marley Taggart.

  “Guess your ride got a little banged up.” I was almost grateful to Kolby for throwing a temper tantrum, now that I knew who the buyer was.

  She lifted her shoulders, studying my face, while my eyes slid to her cropped sweatshirt and the tattoo that snaked down her core. The design split to surround her bellybutton, then dove down the front of her low-cut jeans. Her abs rivaled Caine’s. And that damn tan had to be spray-on.

  “Just came to get my suit back.”

  I blinked. Caine borrowed this Nomex prison garb from Marley? I couldn’t get out of it fast enough. Pain ripped through my shoulder when I tried to shrug the garment off. My vision went black. I pressed my butt against the wall, hoping it’d hold me up, but my knees buckled. The last thing I wanted was to show any weakness in front of this bitch. I bit my lip, but intense pain ripped the cry from my throat.

  “Call a fuckin’ medic!” Dale’s bark reverberated in my ear as he knelt at my side. “Jesus Christ, Shelby, what’s wrong?”

  “Her shoulder.” The words came from Marley, but I discerned no sympathy. “Saw her slam into the door when Barnes put the nose of that Audi underneath the ‘Cuda.” The tone warmed. “Took guts to walk it off and still hammer him in the nuts.”

  Hancock spun and raced for the tunnel entrance, barking for an ambulance.

  Dale raked my hair from eyes. “This one here? She’s all guts.”

  No, Dale, I’m a coward.

  “Shelby!” Caine’s yell echoed through the tunnel. I closed my eyes.

  Never. Never again.

  A pain sliced through my chest th
at had nothing to do with my neck and shoulder.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mom breezed into the room. I eyed the margarine container she pulled from her purse. Adding a spoon, she placed both items on the bed tray.

  “Banana pudding.” Diving into her bag again, she pulled out a pint of ice cream. “Cabarrus Creamery. Butter pecan. Want me to scoop some on top?”

  “Yes, please.” I punched the button to lift the head of the bed.

  “Good thing it’s not your right arm that’s broken.”

  I kept my eyes on the curl of ice cream arcing above the edge of the container.

  “Yeah. Mom, about Dale.”

  She dumped the first spoonful on top of the pudding. “What about him?”

  “Get off his ass. I did want to race... that jackass. Sorry I can’t fix your car problems, but I’ll make you a deal. You stop treating him like shit and I won’t have anything to do with Hannah-built Racing. Deal?”

  I pinned her with a look, noting the way she kept her eyes on the pint container. She didn’t speak again until she’d added several more spoonfuls. Laying the spoon on the fake woodgrain tabletop, she set the ice cream beside the butter container and pulled the chair closer to the bed.

  She sat her purse on the floor at her side, scowling when it tumbled forward. She lifted the handle, gave the contents a shake, then returned it to the floor, smiling when it sat up straight. A knot formed in my gut, watching her smooth her skirt over her ass before she took a seat, then tug it over her knees. Whenever she focused on perfecting things, I was next.

  “It’s more than the race team, Shelby. I’m not blind.” She finally lifted her eyes to mine. The skin around her eyes was so tight I feared her eyeballs might pop out.

  “It’s Colt. And now Caine, too? I know you think I was a slut. But I never slept with two guys at once. What you’re doing is a disgrace, and I won’t stand for it, you hear me? I did not raise my daughter to humiliate me in public.”

  I tried to open my mouth, but she just steamrolled right past. Tears gathered in her eyes.

  “Oh, I see how tight you and Dale are, and honey, that makes me happy. But, I refuse to go to my grave with people laughing at me because my daughter’s wedding announcement said Dale Hannah was the father of the bride and the damn groom. I can see that all you’d have to do is give one or the other the nod, and they’d go down on one knee. But it’s not going to happen, do you hear me?”

  Funny, I didn’t feel the usual stab of pain whenever she announced I’d let her down. I felt... nothing. Certainly no fear. She used to be the scariest person I knew. Now, all I could think was that she needed a hair appointment and a manicure.

  “I have bigger plans than marriage, so find something else to obsess about. But you get off his ass, you hear me? Stop snapping at him, and if he’s sleeping in another room, you get down on your knees and fix that shit.”

  The blush began at her neck and crept up her face. “I do not discuss my sex life with you, young lady. And you do not scream at me. I don’t give a damn what that doctor said, you will not raise your voice to—”

  “But you want to talk about mine?”

  The nurse came rushing in. “Is everything all right in here?”

  “She was just leaving.” I grabbed the spoon. “Once that happens, everything will be just fine.”

  The nurse stood in the doorway with raised brows. Mom’s cheeks were scarlet, but she yanked her purse off the floor and stalked past.

  I took my first bite. Way to go, Macy. This pudding came from some grocery store deli.

  “And get your roots done. You look like trailer trash.”

  She didn’t look back to see the grin I offered the nurse.

  ***

  I looked up at the tap on the door. Caine peered around the edge. “You awake?”

  He sauntered in. My laptop was tucked under his arm. Why hadn’t he shaved? That scruffy look made my body do weird things. Things I couldn’t let it do around Caine.

  “Did you get the memory card?”

  He lifted a brow at my snappy tone. “I already loaded the files on here. You owe me some good ass for setting the record feature to three-sixty. Not only do you have the driver’s view of the race, but we got that little grin on your face when you hit fifth gear and knew you’d won.” He plopped into the chair. “So, you think you can teach me how to work your editing software?”

  “Sure. There’s a travel mouse in my purse.”

  “I always knew you were the smart kind.” His eyes lit and he dove into my handbag. Dragging out the tiny mouse, he gave it a skeptical look. It did look like a kumquat in his huge hand.

  An hour later, we’d just finalized the clip I wanted to upload, when a tiny tornado rushed into the room.

  “Uncle Caine!”

  He gave the child a warm smile. “Hang on, wild thang. Let me get this uploaded for Shelby before you climb me like a tree.”

  “This is a hospital. You have to use your inside voice.” Caroline reached for the child’s hand, but my friend’s eyes were on Caine. The look disappeared in a split second, but I spied the longing in her eyes.

  “I’ll do it later. Hand me the laptop, Caine.”

  “You sure?” At my nod, he slid the device onto the tray. Grabbing little Shelby under the arms, he lifted her over his head. The child squealed. Caine lowered her until their noses touched. My heart twisted.

  “Bad influence.” Caroline smacked his shoulder, but her cheeks turned rosy and her soft smile told me she’d lied at the fairgrounds. I’d die before I took anything else from her.

  Jerking my attention to little Shelby, I watched Caine turn the child and plop her onto his lap, sheltering her under one big arm. I blinked back sudden tears, but the sight steeled my resolve.

  “Did Santy Claws bring you them fancy boots?”

  “No, she gave ‘em to me.” The child pointed in my direction. “Hey, what’s that?”

  “My cast. Uncle Colt told the doctor to make it look like this. Caroline, there’s a marker in my purse. Let her sign it.”

  “You, uh, know she can’t write yet.” Caroline giggled.

  “I don’t care.”

  “I want one!” My namesake kicked her feet, driving the heels of her red boots into Caine’s shin.

  “Keep yelling, then.” Caroline scowled, but leaned across Caine to grab my pocketbook. I pretended to eye the laptop, but caught the caressing gaze he raked across her ass when she bent to grab my pocketbook.

  They belong together.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Dale paced at the foot of my bed. Mom’s new bed. Whatever.

  “Shelby, what’re you doin’? You just got released from the hospital. Your mama and I want to baby you some.”

  “No babying allowed. I’m ready to go. I have my prescription. I have an appointment with a doctor in Spartanburg. I’m fine.” I scanned the room to be sure I had everything.

  “Shelby, goddammit, your mama’s gonna have a cow. She’ll be back from gettin’ her hair done in an hour.” Dale scowled. “Why not stay with us till school starts back? That’s just eleven more days. Damn house echoes, it’s so empty.”

  I shoved the last pair of tights into the bag and yanked the zipper.

  “Which one done it this time? Whose ass do I need to yank a knot in?”

  I sank onto the edge of the bed. “Neither. Or both. Depends on your point of view.” I lifted my eyes to his troubled face. “You know better than me how this story ends, right?”

  Comprehension flickered in his eyes. He dropped his gaze to the footboard. “I’ll get the truck warmed up, but you gotta stick around to say goodbye to your mama.”

  My cell phone buzzed. I lifted it off the bed and scanned the message before turning my gaze to his. “Not necessary. Robert’s here to pick me up.”

  “Who?”

  “My boyfriend. Well, we broke up before I arrived, but I’m going to fix that. He’s from Rock Hill. Goes to Wofford.”

/>   Dale, God bless his ass, grabbed my bag and stopped arguing. I followed him down the stairs. To my right, Caine looked up from the tiny table when I followed Dale into the elegant new kitchen. A thick book lay open in front of him. He waved his cell phone with a scowl.

  “So far, four of these goddamn parts are backordered. Fucking imports. So, I can’t say how long it’ll take to get your Audi fixed up.”

  “I can’t drive for eight to twelve weeks. I don’t need a car.”

  The doorbell chimed.

  “That’s him now.” I spun, hurrying to the elegant foyer.

  Robert lifted his eyes from the slate tiled porch with a smile. His khakis had a sharp crease and the scent of heavy starch rolled off his shirt. I eyed the little polo horse while I took a mental deep breath and forced a smile.

  “Hey. Damn, that’s... bright.” He gestured to my neon purple cast.

  “One of my stepbrothers missed his calling as a comedian. In my defense, I was drugged to the gills when this happened.” I hesitated. “Let me grab my suitcase. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  His light brows rose. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your parents?”

  “My mom’s gone to get her hair done. Only the guys are here. Let’s just go. Please.”

  “Shelby. This is rude.”

  Heart sinking, I stepped back to let him in. He eyed the thick crown molding, nodding with approval and then gave the Oriental rug under our feet a quick smile.

  Colt peered around the open refrigerator door when we stepped into the kitchen. His brows drew together. Caine tipped the chair back, hooking bare feet around the slender legs. Exchanging a glance with Colt, he turned back toward me with a slight frown.

  Dale broke the silence before I could sort out which name I was supposed to use first to make a proper introduction. Dale’s? The visitor? I couldn’t recall.

  “I’m Dale. Nice to meet’cha.” He crossed the room to shake Robert’s hand.

  “Nice meeting you at last, Mr. Hannah. I’m Robert Kossell. Did y’all have a nice Christmas?”