Dangerous Curves

by Larkin Rose

Oh, how bad they ached.

  Chapter Nine

  Lacy followed Sellars under the canopy at the high school football field where the fundraiser had been set up. She set her bag down and snapped several pictures as Sellars quietly began unpacking boxes and hanging T-shirts and hoodies on the display rack.

  The day would be a long one, she knew. Sellars had been moody all morning indicating she was in her head once again.

  What was in there? What dark secrets made her drift inside herself so often? Were the dirty deeds that rested in the darkness the reason she acted out so often? Had they made her this reckless misfit?

  Lacy hated to admit that she actually missed the sarcastic banter between them. No witty humor. No money in the swear jar. She didn’t even stall when Lacy plucked the keys from her grasp in the driveway. Not a single grunt.

  Or maybe it had more to do with being here, at this NASCAR function, among the other racers, people who disliked her for good reasons. Not one person had said hello to her or even helped her locate the gear she would be selling. Was it eating at her? That she’d created this rift between them by being such a careless asshole?

  Fans were already beginning to mingle, yet her tent remained unoccupied. No one had asked for an autograph or checked out the memorabilia.

  Did she regret that she had only herself to blame for their dislike? For their blatant hatred?

  For the first time since they’d met, Lacy felt a pang of pity for her. She was in this game all alone. Of course she’d put herself there. But right now, that was beside the point, and Lacy didn’t plan to spend her entire day in stuffy silence.

  “Why don’t you go out and mingle with the people? Maybe greet some fans,” Lacy said.

  “Why don’t you put that camera down and help hang this crap up?” Sellars barked.

  Lacy snapped a picture, then another, and another, until Sellars gave her a scowl. “Because I’m not the star of this show.” She shielded the sun from her eyes and looked around dramatically. “But then again, looks like you aren’t the star either.”

  “Screw you.” Sellars yanked a hoodie onto a hanger then jammed it on the rack.

  “Ooh. Do we have touchy feelings today?” Lacy let the camera hang from the strap around her neck. “Is da baby upset that no one wikes her?”

  “Suits me fine. I don’t like people, anyway.” Sellars slammed another hanger onto the rack.

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Lacy grabbed a hanger and started helping. “It bothers you a lot.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Sellars glared at her.

  Truth was, she really didn’t care. Maybe she should, but she didn’t. Wasn’t that the problem? She never had. Well, maybe once she might have. But not anymore. Their opinions, the fans, her opposing racers, didn’t matter at all to her. Only her own opinion meant anything and she couldn’t think any less of herself, so why should their hatred intervene?

  Sellars’s gaze landed over her shoulder, and a mask of anger drifted across her expression.

  Lacy slowly turned to find three racers standing behind her, all wearing their own sponsor T-shirts. She recognized one of them immediately. The racer whose wife had been photographed in the alley with Sellars.

  Brett Inman. New king of the track, though there was only one true king of any track in Lacy’s eyes. Richard Petty, long retired from the racing world, would forever hold that title. Like Richard, Brett was an amazing racer who seemed to be collecting trophies. Unlike Richard, he was a brazen asshole who didn’t deserve a single one.

  And his appearance obviously wasn’t going to end well.

  “Shit,” Lacy mumbled.

  “Come on, man. Let’s keep it moving,” one of the other men said.

  “Kip Sellars,” Brett growled. “Didn’t think you’d show your sorry face here today.”

  Sellars cocked that sarcastic smile. “I think I have a rather handsome face.” She propped her hand up on the end of the rack and appeared cool. “Pretty sure you’ll find a few others who agree. Just ask around.”

  Brett took a step forward, and the two other men stuck their arms out. “You’re not wanted here, you outcast!” His teeth ground tightly together as he pushed against the men’s arms. “You need to go the fuck away while you can still walk away on your own two feet!”

  Sellars chuckled while Lacy’s heart raced. “Threatening to take my feet out from under me, Brett? I can see why you’d be threatened by them. Seeing how they’re made of lead.” She shrugged, her expression unreadable. “But don’t be afraid of losing, my man.” Her jaw tightened. “Because I’m coming for you.”

  Lacy took a step toward Sellars, unsure why she did it, somehow knowing she needed to. As much as Sellars played by her own rules, something deep down inside told her she might have a fighting chance of stopping Sellars when this got ugly. And it would get ugly. She was positive of it.

  “Bring it, faggot!” Brett pushed against the men again, gaining a few inches toward Sellars.

  Sellars cut her sights on Lacy and she laughed. “Look at this guy showing his education and maturity.” She turned back to Brett and the laugh vanished. “How’s that tasty wife of yours?”

  Ah, shit.

  “You fucking bitch!” Brett shoved and pushed against the men, arms flailing. “I’m going to rip your faggot head off!”

  Sellars never moved from her relaxed position as he withered, attempting to push through the strong arms holding him back.

  “Don’t be such a spoilsport, man. I left plenty of meat for you.”

  Brett relaxed, his glare more daring than it was angry. He moved back and shucked off one of the men. “That’s more than I can say about your girlfriend.” He lifted his chin like he was proud of his comeback.

  Lacy glanced up at Sellars. Her jaw was clenched again. Fire sparked in her expression.

  “How much fun did you have scooping up her body pieces from the asphalt, you fucking cunt!” Spittle flew from his mouth.

  Sellars pushed off the rack before Lacy knew she was in flight.

  “Sellars! No!” Lacy screamed.

  The sound of her plea was swallowed in Sellars’s agonized roar. She charged at him, breaking past the first man who tried to intervene by blocking her path.

  She didn’t stall as she reared her fist back, pushed the other man aside with her free hand, and punched Brett square in the face. And again. And again.

  The men bellowed as they dove for Sellars.

  The sound drew attention from other people. They raced toward the fight, cell phones angled, and seconds seemed to tick by while they struggled to drag Sellars off Brett.

  She was still swinging when they pulled her backward, her face contorted with rage. Her teeth ground tight, her eyes narrowed and trained on Brett.

  “I’m coming for you, mother fucker!” Sellars screamed.

  It was the first time Lacy had even heard her cuss and mentally reminded herself to make sure Sellars paid that swear jar accordingly.

  Brett wiped blood from his nose and mouth. “You’ll find me in your windshield, bitch!”

  Lacy finally found her footing and her thoughts. Trouble. This was bad. She was supposed to be keeping Sellars out of trouble, not watching her get into it.

  She grabbed Sellars’s arm and tugged her backward. “Sellars. Stop it! Please!”

  Sellars’s glare was still pasted forward, daring him, anyone, to make a move.

  Lacy had never seen anyone so angry in her life.

  She stepped in front of Sellars and put her hands against her chest. “Sellars!”

  For several seconds, Sellars stared over her head, eyes trained on him, and finally, she looked down at Lacy.

  “Stop it.” Lacy smoothed her hand down Sellars’s arms. “Take his ass out on the track, okay? This isn’t the place.”

  Sellars watched her for several seconds, and with a final glance in his direction, she barged out from under the canopy.

  Lacy turned toward the men and let her gaze walk o
ver each of their faces before she stalled on Brett. “I hope your calculated and premeditated visit ended exactly how you wanted.” She gave an admiring whistle when Brett wiped more blood from his lips. “You’ll need ice for that swelling, dumbass.”

  She didn’t give any of them a chance to speak before she charged after Sellars

  She finally caught up with her at the car, already behind the wheel, hands gripped tight on the steering wheel.

  Lacy hesitantly dropped into the passenger seat and waited, unsure what to say, knowing full well it was only a matter of time before she asked about the girlfriend. No way she could let a statement, or a reaction, go without being nosy.

  Minutes passed while Sellars continued to loosen and tighten her grip. Lacy wanted to say something, anything, but she was more worried that the sound of her voice would do more harm than good.

  “Buckle!” Sellars barked.

  Lacy only stared, confused by the single word, until Sellars turned those sexy green eyes on her.

  “Buckle!” Sellars barked again.

  Lacy finally understood the word for what it meant. A command. To buckle up.

  As soon as the metal clicked together, Sellars slammed the clutch down, shoved the stick into drive, and pulled away from the parking space.

  Lacy expected tires to squeal. Expected to be thrown around the car like a rag doll. Instead, Sellars obeyed every speed limit as she made her way out of the city and onto the back roads, seeming to be going nowhere in particular.

  “Two roads up, take a right,” Lacy finally said after too much time of silence.

  To her surprise, Sellars slowed down and turned onto the dead end street.

  “When you come to the split in the road, veer right,” Lacy said.

  This was a place she came to almost every vacation. It was a quiet spot down a long dirt road, set back in the woods overlooking a wide creek.

  It was the perfect place to capture all of Sellars’s anger. The very images she’d envisioned capturing from the second she laid eyes on her.

  When the dirt path ended, Sellars stopped the car and killed the engine. “If you wanted me alone, all you had to do was say so.”

  Lacy opened her door. “Get out, asshole.”

  Sellars got out, slammed the door, and met Lacy at the front of the car with a scowl on her face.

  Lacy snapped the first picture.

  “Will you get that damn thing out of my face?” Sellars growled.

  “Show me, Sellars.” Lacy took a few steps back, lens trained on that enraged expression. “Show me that anger.”

  Sellars stopped her slow pace to stare at Lacy. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Lacy continued to snap. “Capturing the real you. The mad, hate the whole fucking world, you. That’s the person you want us all to see, right?” She moved backward again but zoomed the lens in.

  Sellars was so damn sexy. Her hair hung in her face, masking those green eyes into lustful pits of darkness.

  “I don’t hate the whole world.” Sellars kicked a pine cone across the path.

  “Who do you hate, Sellars?” Lacy stepped closer. “Your granddaddy? Mommy? Daddy?” She took another step and snapped. “Take off your jacket.”

  Sellars arched a brow at her. “Now you’re talking my language.” She shucked out of the blazer and tossed it on the roof.

  “Take that fucking shirt off, too.”

  The lens hummed.

  “My pleasure, sexy.” Sellars peeled the T-shirt over her head.

  Lacy licked her lips behind the camera as the delicious view of Sellars’s body bloomed in front of her. A mean set of abs greeted her zoom; buff, strong arms; and dear God, there were detailed cut marks disappearing down into those jeans. Not to mention the starched white sports bra that was bright against her tanned skin.

  Sex. She was sexually deprived and needed to alleviate that particular situation in the near future. The nightclub was screaming her name as she kept depressing the shutter.

  “Sit on the edge of the hood,” Lacy commanded.

  Sellars did as told, and Lacy stepped closer.

  “The racers can’t stand you,” Lacy said.

  “I don’t care.”

  “The fans hate you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Say something to them, Sellars. Show them all what you think about them.”

  Sellars shot her a bird, her expression set.

  Lacy snapped several more shots, easing closer, or being pushed. She wasn’t sure anymore. Only that she needed to capture this moment.

  “Yes. That’s it.” Lacy snapped another picture. “Fuck you, world! Fuck you, fans. Fuck you, Granddaddy.”

  Sellars raised her other hand and gave the same salute with the other finger. Her lips curled back in another snarl.

  “Oh yeah.” Lacy squatted down near the bumper to get another angle. “I’m Kip Sellars, and I don’t give a good goddamn about your opinions.”

  Sellars lowered her arms but continued to stare at the camera.

  Lacy rose. “Tell me about the girlfriend, Sellars.”

  Lacy regretted the request, the dying desire to meet Sellars’s demon, as soon as her lips thinned into a grim line in the viewfinder, and then she pushed off the hood.

  Chapter Ten

  Sellars dropped off the car, her heart racing, her gut knotted, and tugged the camera from Lacy’s grasp.

  Lacy turned her chin up in defiance. Defiance that only fueled Sellars’s rage.

  How dare this woman poke into her secrets? Into her heart.

  Sellars trained the camera on Lacy’s face and circled around her. “Let’s talk about your skeletons, Lacy.” She started walking forward, forcing Lacy to walk backward.

  “I don’t have any skeletons. My life is practically an open book. Especially with Billy blurting everything.” Lacy smirked.

  “Is that so?” Sellars continued walking forward. “Is this the camera you used? The one you used to freeze-frame death?”

  Lacy’s smirk vanished and her expression changed to anger. “Fuck you.”

  “Ah. Yes. There it is.” Sellars pressed the button on the camera. “The ghost in the machine. The demon you can never outrun. Isn’t that right, Lacy?”

  Lacy reached for the camera, but Sellars ducked backward. “Give me the fucking camera.”

  “Why? You were so eager to capture my demon, weren’t you? So eager for me to air my dirty laundry.” Sellars snapped another picture. “Let’s talk about your skeleton instead.”

  She continued walking Lacy backward when all she truly wanted to do was drop. Right there. To her knees. She wanted to open Lacy up. Wanted to feast on her. Drink from her. Taste her.

  “How much blood money did you earn, Lacy?” Sellars snapped more pictures, seeing through the lens that Lacy was enraged. “Couple hundred thousand? More?” The shutter hummed. “No. Not Lacy. She likes that big money. The cha-ching! You went straight to the top, didn’t you? Only millions would do for the proof hidden inside this contraption.”

  “Fuck you, Sellars,” Lacy growled. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Now give me the goddamn camera!”

  Sellars continued walking toward her, pressing the button, capturing that beautiful rage. “I heard the rumors. All of them. How you sold the pictures to his family. How you leaked them to the press before the money could even get cozy in your bank account. Yep. I heard them all. And we all know how reliable those rumors are. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

  Lacy’s legs buckled against the bumper and Sellars stopped walking. She trained the camera on Lacy’s lips and snapped another picture.

  “Go to hell,” Lacy whispered.

  Sellars moved the camera from her face.

  Lacy looked so vulnerable trapped against the car, her eyes moist, her lips set in a narrow line. For the first time, Sellars saw the pain in those eyes. The pain Lacy forced herself to ignore. Or maybe she had convinced herself that it was part of life now
. That the pain was part of life. Just like Sellars had accepted that her own pain was a permanent part of her life.

  Sellars wanted to part those lips with her tongue. Wanted to hear a cry of release roll over them.

  She slid the strap through her fingers and let the camera slowly drop to the ground beside her.

  Lacy chewed her bottom lip, and her angered breaths grew shallow as she locked her sights on Sellars. Lust danced in her eyes.

  “I can’t go to hell, Lacy.” Sellars pressed herself between Lacy’s thighs. There was no stopping herself now. Her thoughts had already gone too far. She had no choice but to make them reality. “I’m already here. I’ve been here for many years. Long, endless days of hell.”

  “Then drop dead!” Lacy pushed her hands against Sellars’s chest.

  Sellars grabbed her wrists and leaned forward, not thinking, just bittersweet need coiling tight. There was no thinking left to do. No words left to say. No anger or rebellion left to give.

  Lacy hummed all the way to her soul as Sellars crushed their lips together, her wrists still clamped tight in that powerful grip. She instinctively ground against her, desperate to feel Sellars’s weight pinning her down, driving deep inside. More afraid that she would react to that inner voice screaming out a warning, demanding that she stop Sellars.

  As if Sellars could feel her indecision, she pushed against Lacy, climbing up the bumper until Lacy was flat against the hood with Sellars hovering above her. She pinned her arms above her head and deepened the kiss.

  That warning voice bellowed in her mind. Begging her to end this. To not let Sellars make another move.

  She wanted to listen. She wanted to obey. Needed to obey. That voice was right. Sellars was nothing to her. Meant nothing. Amounted to nothing. She would always be the reckless destroyer of her own future. And she was going to do it with that sexy smile on her face.

  Yet Lacy couldn’t obey. She was without willpower to reject the promises that lay beneath those grinding hips. The selfish, idiotic part of her would win every time.

  Sellars pulled back and stared down over her, her breaths hard, her eyes pleading.