Flagger
Page 1
Flagger
Red Bird Trail Trilogy Book #1
By Laramie Briscoe
Copyright © 2015 Laramie Briscoe
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
Edited by: Lindsay Hopper
Proofread by: Dawn Bourgeois & Monica Holloway
Cover by: Kari Ayasha of Cover to Cover Designs
Formatted by: Paul Salvette
Photography by: MHPhotography Stock & Custom Photos
Models: Thomas Addison & Leigha Heverly
Note From Laramie
Hi everybody!
I want to say a huge thank you for taking a chance on a brand-new trilogy. Sometimes as a writer, my brain works much faster than my fingers can type something out. This trilogy has been in the works for over a year and I am beyond excited to bring it to you!
Settle in, grab some snacks, and delve into the world of Cash Montgomery and Harper Stillwell. I think you’re gonna love it!
—Laramie
Table of Contents
Flagger
Copyright Page
Note From Laramie
Summary
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
About the Author
Connect With Laramie
Other Books by Laramie
Also by Laramie Briscoe
Summary
Fast Cars
Quarter-miles
Broken homes
Vulnerable hearts
Cash Montgomery likes fast cars, fast women, and living his life only as far as he can see with his own two eyes. There are very few people in his life who he answers to. One of them being his little brother Remington (Remy).
When Cash and Remy are forced to make a life-changing decision they no longer have a place to live, no idea where their next meal is going to come from, or any prospects as to how they will make it. They need help.
That help comes in the form of the Heaven Hill MC and Harper Stillwell.
Harper Stillwell comes with her own set of problems, but when she and Cash Montgomery meet, sparks fly.
None of them know what they’re doing, where they will end up, or how they’ll get there. The only thing they know is that the race for their lives is only beginning—the flag is waving—and they have to hang on for the ride.
Red Bird Trail
Flagger
Definition: A flagger starts the race…
‡
Prologue
“Cash.”
The deep voice behind him, made him turn. It was the voice of one of the most powerful men in the region. Liam Walker, the president of the Heaven Hill MC, was the type of man that, when he spoke, others listened. It didn’t matter who you were or what station you were in life. He demanded respect.
“Sir?” Cash always wanted to treat this man with the respect he deserved.
“We got money on you tonight. Don’t let Rodrigo withhold it from you when you win.”
The grin on Liam’s face could be seen even in the dark of the night. His white teeth flashed against the dark beard on his face. He had that much confidence in the young man he spoke of.
Cash chuckled. “Will do.”
“It should go a long way in helping your financial situation out.” Liam raised an eyebrow.
While some people would feel embarrassment about someone outside of his family knowing his particular financial situation, Cash knew that this came from a good place. For a kid who’d never had any kind of family he could trust, Cash counted on the Heaven Hill MC, and they had yet to let him down.
Unlike everyone else.
If they believed he would win, then he would move heaven and earth to make sure he did just that.
‡
Chapter One
The road passed in a blur as he accelerated through the gears. His eyes on the prize, the only thing he focused on was the point they had marked to be the end of the quarter-mile drag strip fashioned out of Louisville Road. It was desolate this time of night, but he knew if they weren’t careful, the people at Donna’s Country Store would call the local sheriff’s office. They had to be in and out with lightning speed. His thumb itched—where it sat on the steering wheel—to press the button that would activate the NOS system Walker’s Wheel’s had just put in.
He would be working to pay that off for a few weeks, but the boys of the Heaven Hill MC were good to him, and for that he was appreciative. It also meant the money he would be winning tonight would go to the people who needed it most. The car on the right-hand side was coming up fast, but Cash Montgomery knew just when to time the press of that button that would push him across the finish line first.
Wait for it, wait for it. His brain slowed him down. The beating of his heart roared in his ears. The winnings meant so much that sometimes he felt like he was going to have a heart attack in the mere seconds it took him to complete the quarter-mile.
At just the right moment, he engaged the button and held on for the ride of his life. The finish line passed in a haze as he down-shifted and let the engine cool. As the engine cooled, his breathing leveled out, and the tense muscles of his body relaxed. He pulled the car around into the parking lot of a local church.
“Cash, you’re a ballsy motherfucker. I don’t know how you hang onto that car.”
Hearing his fiercest competitor call him a ballsy motherfucker was worth it. “Thanks, Slim.” He couldn’t help the grin that tilted up the side of his mouth.
He walked over to where the ringleader for the racers of the Trail held court, counting out money and handing it over to the people who had bet on him for the night. “Where’s my cut for the night, Rodrigo?” he asked, holding his hand out.
Rodrigo looked at him, his eyebrow raised. “Give me your arm.”
“Seriously? Dude, I’ve been doin’ this shit for almost a year. I still gotta show you?”
“Rules are rules.”
Cash blew out a breath and lifted his long-sleeve shirt up over his forearm. “Well, do it.”
Rodrigo pulled a black light out of his pocket and shined it over Cash’s forearm, revealing the cherry tattooed there. It was white and used black light responsive ink. Nobody saw it but Rodrigo and the other members of the illegal s
treet racing circuit. The cherry was an inside code—when they wanted to have a race, they would always text that their grandmother was bringing cherry pie over for dinner. And they were a bunch of boys barely past teenage years—cherry was a euphemism for almost everything. It cracked them up and allowed them to keep their secret.
Cash pocketed the money, walking straight over to the scantily clad girls who normally showed up for races at the Trail. He liked to indulge, and tonight was no different as he crooked a finger at a black-haired beauty. Quickly he pulled her back behind the church, slapping hands with Slim as he went. He didn’t respect these girls; they offered one thing and one thing only. They were a means to an end for him. Cash never knew how the encounter would go, but when the girl dropped to her knees in front of him and unbuckled his jeans, he had a damn good idea.
Shoving his hands into her hair, he gripped the back of her head and thrust his hips as she opened her mouth and sucked him deep.
*
He was re-buckling his jeans, making sure everything was tucked in, as he made his way back around the building.
“C’mon, Cash.” Samantha, one of the girls he’d fucked before, lifted up her shirt, flashing her tits for not only him but everyone else to see.
“Sorry, darlin’, maybe some other time.” He was tired and there were people he needed to get home to.
She pouted, because that girl was used to getting her way in everything she did. “I’m countin’ on it, Cash!”
The way she moved on to the next guy—before she’d even finished saying his name—made him think maybe she shouldn’t count on it ever again. It was best to stay away from the ones who wanted to cause problems. Walking over to his car, he got in and cranked the ignition. None of these people understood his life or what he went through on a daily basis. They thought he did this just because he could, but the fact of the matter was, he flat-out needed the money, and this was the easiest way to get it. With a sigh, he took off, going home to the two most important people in his life.
*
Harper Stillwell bit back the curse word that wanted to come out of her mouth as the red car—she wasn’t sure what the make or model was—cut her off and stole her parking spot. Parking was a premium in Bowling Green, especially anywhere around the traditional four-year college and technical college. This spot had been primo, and it had been hers. She laid on her horn as the guy got out of his car.
“Hey, asshole! That was my spot!”
When the guy turned around and flashed her a grin, she almost forgot why she was so mad. He was hot; brown hair set off hazel eyes. The beginnings of a beard accented his jawline, and just under the sleeve of his T-shirt, she could see some sort of ink on his shoulder. All the hallmarks of things she found hot in a guy.
“Sorry, sweet cheeks, but I gotta get to this class on time, or they’re going to kick me out. Next time, I’ll save you this spot.” He held up the book for his automotive class before turning to take off at a run.
“So fucking lucky he was hot,” she mumbled as she pulled around to find another parking spot.
It figured he would be in some sort of automotive class; his car had been just as sexy as he was good looking. Harper sighed. She was a sucker for a fast car with a hottie driving it. But that hottie had been way out of her league, even she knew that.
“Harper, wait for me.”
The voice of her best friend, Natalie, yelled from further back in the parking lot.
“Hoof it, Nat, we got like ten minutes.” Harper tapped her flip flop against the asphalt of the parking lot.
When Natalie finally caught up to her, they power-walked to the entrance of the building.
“Where were you last night? There was a huge party over on 13th,” Natalie questioned as they opened the doors and walked in.
“I know.” Harper sighed. “But I had to work last night.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. Work was sometimes a bad word.
“Which job?”
“The one I actually don’t mind. I was with the catering crew at the back-to-school function for Western.” Harper stopped at the snack machine that sat in the lobby and quickly stuffed some quarters in it.
“No time for breakfast?” Natalie shook her head.
“Dude, you have no idea. I’m running on fumes.” She made a selection and beat on the glass gently when it took forever to vend. Her stomach was about to eat itself, and if she didn’t get nourishment soon, she felt like she would die.
“You do realize you’re living on the Britney Spears diet circa 2007. Red Bull and flaming hot Cheetos.”
“Such a smartass.” Harper pulled her bag higher up on her shoulder and opened the door to the room that housed her class. “Need I remind you it got her a Las Vegas residency? See you later, toots.”
“See ya.”
*
Cash rolled his head around on his neck, stretching out the tendons there as he tried valiantly to listen to everything the teacher, who stood at the front of the class, said. Intro to engine repair was just that, an intro class. It was also one he hadn’t needed, but he couldn’t convince his advisor of that. He’d been repairing engines since he was fifteen years old.
“Hey.”
Glancing to his left, Cash raised an eyebrow at the whispered word. “What, Slim?” he questioned his fellow racer.
“Word has it there might be another race tonight.”
“Really?” It was unusual to have two races in two consecutive nights. They liked to throw the cops off and not keep a set schedule.
He couldn’t deny, though, that a second race in as many days would greatly improve his bottom line. Buying books and paying for this semester had diminished his emergency fund, and with his little brother, he never knew when a medical emergency might need him to dip into it again. “If there is, tell Rodrigo I want in.”
Another day, another dollar, another race, and another chance to make a better life for him and his family. That’s all it boiled down to. Taking care of the ones who mattered and living life a quarter mile at a time.
‡
Chapter Two
“I don’t know, Nat; I have homework.” Harper wrinkled her nose as she talked to her best friend, cell phone up to her ear.
“And I don’t?” she argued. “It’s not every week the Red Bird Trail runs twice. C’mon, live a little. That homework will be there three hours from now when we’re done.”
“Three hours from now will also be two in the morning,” she retorted, but she was already going to her closet to look for something to wear. Harper had to admit she wasn’t getting the full college experience, and she’d only seen the Red Bird Trail once.
“Am I wearing you down? ’Cause I’m hearing some movement.”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
“Great, wear something hot and sexy that will show off the curves you like to keep covered up.”
“I’m not going to pick up a date,” she argued as she looked through her jean collection. “I’m only going to get out of this house for a few hours.”
Nat laughed. “None of us ever go to pick up dates, but you never know what happens on the Trail. I’ll come pick you up in forty-five minutes. Be ready.”
Harper sighed and threw her phone down on the bed. She loved Nat; they had been best friends since they were in middle school, and Nat had been getting her in trouble since then.
“Are you getting dressed to go out? It’s almost midnight.”
Her head flew up as she heard the voice of her aunt, her guardian since she had been a kid. “Yeah.” She grinned. “Nat’s on her way to come and get me, and we’re gonna go see some friends.” No sense in telling her aunt exactly what they were doing. That was a lecture waiting to happen.
“You’re an adult now, and I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you to be careful. Good things don’t happen after midnight.”
“Don’t worry, Cara. I’m not looking to be in the back of a paddy wagon going down to 911 Kent
ucky Street tonight,” she joked, referencing the address for the local jail.
“You see that you don’t,” Cara warned before turning around and heading down the hallway.
Harper glanced at the pair of jeans in her hand and hoped to God those words wouldn’t be prophetic. She knew the Red Bird Trail could sometimes get crazy.
*
“Are you going out again tonight?” Cash glanced up from where he sat on the couch putting his shoes on at the sound of his mom’s voice.
“Yeah,” he answered, glancing back down. “I have some stuff I gotta take care of. Don’t wait up on me.”
“You don’t have to do this,” she told him softly.
Cash knew he did. At twenty-one, he was the main breadwinner in the household. His money provided the care his severely asthmatic little brother needed. They always had hope Remy would grow out of his allergies and grow out of the asthma, but until then, there were medications, doctors’ visits, and sometimes hospital stays that needed to be paid for. Unfortunately, his mom’s job at a convenience store meant there was never enough money for those incidentals. He hoped he was making the right decision going to school for mechanic work. Someone always needed a car to be worked on and a lot of times mechanics were paid in cash.
“Yeah, I do. Who else is going to do it?”
There were tears in her eyes as Janet Sawyer looked at her son, the one who had grown up way too fast. She’d had him young and then struggled with a drug addiction for much of his young life. She hadn’t made it easy on him, but she was doing the best she could. “I can get another job,” she argued.
“Doing what and when? You’re already required to work at least fifty hours a week since you got promoted to management. Mom, for now this is easy money, and it provides what Remy needs.” Not to mention it alleviated the guilt he felt at all the times he’d talked down to her or talked bad at her when she was high. It felt like he would always be making amends for that, but as long as she stayed clean, he would do it and not bitch one bit about it.