Fury 2: A Second Chance Romance

by Ward, Kira

  “Don’t be so quick to judge,” Mason said. “The street racing scene here is even bigger than in The OC, but Miami is a bit more subdued, a lot of retirees here.”

  “So?” I asked.

  “So to keep the kids off the street and prevent someone smacking into uncle Richie’s town car, the City Hall decided to allow TITS to operate. Same rules as The Bluffs, but the police don’t just look the other way. They literally don’t even come here.”

  “You’re kidding?” I looked over towards the longer track where a sky blue Audi R8 was dominating a grey Porsche Panamera. Expensive cars. Fast.

  “No risk of jail time,” the bald man insisted, “so long as you keep your squabbles on the track.”

  “This is Yosef, by the way,” Mason said. “He’s one of the owners of the track.”

  The man held out his hand, and I shook.

  I turned back towards Mason. “Sounds pretty cool, I guess. So you wanted me to see where you’ll be racing?”

  “No,” Mason chuckled. “I want you to race here.”

  “What? Me race here?”

  Mason placed his hand on my shoulder. “The moment I saw this track, I knew it was suited for you. I know your driving style. You could become the best of the best here with the GT-R. And…”

  “And?”

  “And I won’t have to worry about you. You never know when cops are going to pull a sting at The Bluffs. Here, you’re safe. And I want my brother to be safe.”

  The cars on the track slowed to a stop, and a tall, thin guy with Spanish features emerged from the Audi R8. He had obviously beaten the Porsche, if they were actually racing each other rather than just playing around, and now he was checking out his car.

  “I’m not worried about—”

  “Not worried about what? Sitting in jail and losing everything you’ve got? I’ve had to outrun the cops at least a half-dozen times. How many times have you had to do it?”

  “Two…”

  “Two?”

  “Or three.”

  “Exactly. Now how nice would it be just to race? To not have to worry about all the bullshit and just focus on you and the car. The car and the track.”

  I nodded, acknowledging that it all make sense. “But I live in the OC… Everything I know is out there.”

  “Yeah, I haven’t fully adjusted yet either.” Mason snapped his lips. “You know I am working on opening the Mod Shop up nearby.”

  “Yeah, you told me.”

  “It’s going to be big. Bigger than the branch I have in the OC. I’ll need somebody as my right-hand man, and I’d love for it to be you. And most of all, I’d love to have my brother around.” Mason paused a moment. “I promise I won’t ask you to babysit Travis.”

  I laughed. I wouldn’t have minded babysitting the little bugger. “I don’t know. I guess I’d have to think about it.” I leaned up against the rail, right when the R8 driver approached us.

  He held his hands out to his side and smiled confidently. “So what’d you think? Did I tear that shit up or did I tear that shit up?”

  Yosef snickered. “You’re always impressive, Hector. Come here and say hello to a couple new drivers.”

  Hector stepped up to Mason and held his hand out.

  “Hector, this is Mason.” He turned to me. “And what’s your name again?”

  “Caleb.” I held my hand out and took the second shake from Hector.

  “These guys are all the way from Orange County.”

  “Californians?” Hector asked.

  “Yeah, two of the top names in street racing over in SoCal. Brothers even.”

  Hector laughed. “I love how these West Coast racers keep showing up for me to put them in the meat grinder.”

  His comment made my jaw tense, and I could see Mason’s brow furrow a bit.

  “I take it that you’re a regular at the tracks here?” Mason asked.

  Hector let out a phony-sounding laugh. “Regular? You think I’m just a regular?”

  “Hector has ran over 100 races here,” Yosef explained. “He’s undefeated, and as far as I’m concerned, he’s the best street racer in the world.”

  Hector grinned and winked. “You heard it yourself and... well, fellas, I’ve got to get back to my car.” He turned and started walking away as he continued. “Always good to have fresh faces to race against… Just make sure to ring your best automobile. I love adding them to my collection.”

  “Are all the racers in Miami cocky snakes like that?” I asked.

  Yosef shrugged. “He has reason to be cocky if no one can beat him, right?”

  “Mason can beat him,” I insisted. “My brother is undefeated too.”

  “So I heard.” Yosef grabbed the belt of his pants and adjusted himself, turning to face directly toward Mason. “And I think it would be one hell of a race if two undefeated racers went head-to-head. The best of the best, right here in Miami. That kind of competition could grow the scene even bigger than it already is.”

  “If you want the best from California, then you’re looking in the wrong direction,” Mason said.

  “Pardon?” Yosef asked.

  “The man standing right behind you is the best racer you’ll ever find.”

  Me?

  Chapter 9

  Amanda

  “Hi, Mommy,” I said as I exited Los Angeles International Airport.

  “Hey sweetheart,” Mom said and held her arms out for a hug. After a brief squeeze, she pulled back and looked me up and down. “What is this nonsense you’re wearing?”

  “I told you I left my luggage in Florida. It wasn’t worth getting.”

  “You look like you’re about to hit the basketball court or something.”

  “Oh, shut up Mom. It was pretty comfortable to wear on the plane ride at least.”

  “Well, come on. Let’s get head back to car.”

  We hopped into my Mom’s Camry and pulled out of the airport. When I looked at my mom, I wondered if I would look like her when I was older. Her boobs were bigger than mine, but her face had grown fine lines since the divorce with my dad, and her short brown hair and started gaining streaks of grey. Still, I found her beautiful.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” I said.

  “I didn’t have work today, so it’s okay.” Mom sighed. “So what’s the plan?”

  “I was hoping I could stay with you for a while.”

  “For a while? And do what?”

  “Just until I get a few modeling gigs and make some cash.”

  Mom sighed. “Well, you can sleep on the couch for a couple weeks, I guess. But you know my apartment isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

  After Mom and Dad divorced, they sold the house and mom moved into a small Orange County apartment alone.

  “I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can.”

  “Alright, Amanda,” she said. “Do you want me to take you to get your Mercedes?”

  I paused a moment and sighed. “Rick bought the Mercedes for me, but he didn’t put it in my name. He isn’t going to let me have it now that we’ve split.”

  She huffed. “Well, then how the hell are you going to get back and forth to work?”

  “Can I borrow your car when you’re not using it? Maybe I can even pick you up and drop you off at work…”

  “Amanda…”

  “Just until I have enough for my own car. I’m sorry Mom, I’m really in a fucked-up situation now.”

  “What the hell happened to you and Rick anyway? I didn’t quite understand over the phone.”

  “He blew up at the wedding, disrespected my friends and almost got into a fight. And not just that. He hasn’t been treating me the same way that he did when we first met. I was beginning to feel like he was just using me for sex.”

  “Well, that’s what they do, Amanda. They use you for sex, and when they’re done with you, they toss you to the side. Just like your—”

  “Mom, please. Can we please not get into Dad right now? You know I sti
ll love him.”

  Mom sighed. “Just telling you how it is, Amanda.”

  “With all due respect, you two stayed married for almost 30 years, so your relationship with Dad is a lot different than Rick and I.”

  Mom paused and blinked her eyes, before moving her hand deliberately to the radio. She pressed the power button, and an oldie’s station kicked in, loud. It was a good move, really. If we had kept talking about our broken relationships, it would’ve all just ended in a fight.

  I said a silent thank you as we continued to her apartment.

  * * *

  “Hey, this is Amanda Fox. I sent you my portfolio a few days ago. I was wondering if you had a time to take a look?”

  “Oh, um… Hey Amanda,” the strong, manly voice on the other end of the phone said. “We did have a look at your portfolio, and we just don’t think you’re what we’re looking for at this time. I’m sorry, but I wish you good luck in your search.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I muttered somberly.

  I clicked my phone off and let it fall from my hand and onto the couch. I just didn’t get what was going on. I had contacted 20 modeling agencies in the LA and OC area, and none of them were interested in working with me. Before, when I was living with Rick, I was getting calls from the same agencies asking me if I could do work for them.

  What the hell happened? My portfolio hadn’t changed much. I hadn’t gotten any complaints about my previous work. Was business just getting bad?

  It was already an entire week without a call back, and my stuff was still sitting in a corner of my Mom’s apartment, sitting in suitcases and clogging things up even more than they already were.

  Thankfully when I went to Rick’s house, shortly after getting back to California, he didn’t put up much of a fuss. He had already packed up all my belongings. He did ask “Did you come to back to stay?” but I told him no and just loaded everything up into my Mom’s car and left.

  Five minutes and one word. Hopefully, the last five minutes and last word that I’d ever waste on him.

  Deep down, I still felt like I loved Rick and missed him, but I was too young to put up with someone so unstable. Trying to teach him to respect my friends and better yet, respect me would be too much of an uphill battle. I had to move on. I needed to get my independence back.

  And I wanted someone who wanted a family with me. I didn’t want to give that part of my life up.

  But so far, I was feeling like a complete loser. I had sold a lot of my jewelry just to have some money in the bank, and my job search was turning into a total disaster.

  I picked the phone back up off the couch and called Layla.

  “Hewwwoooooo!” Travis’s voice answered.

  “Hey darling!” I squealed. Just the sound of him put me in a better mood. “Do you know who this is?”

  “Aunt Amanda!”

  “Yes! It’s Amanda. How are you doing sweetheart?”

  Before he could answer, I could hear Layla pulling the phone from his ear. “Hey, bitch,” she said.

  “Hey, I was having a conversation with Travis. Why’d you take it away from him?”

  “Ohhhh? So you’d rather talk to him than me? Okay, if that’s what you want…”

  “No, you little hooch. You know I called to talk to you.”

  “So how is the job hunt going? Did you get any gigs yet?”

  “No, none at all. Not a single callback. Can you believe it?”

  “That doesn’t sound right. I mean, I’ve seen your portfolio… They should want you.”

  “Someone should want me. But apparently, I’m wrong. And you’re just biased because you’re my best friend.”

  “No, I’m not just saying it. You’re so hot, babe! Hmmm…” Layla paused. “What about Tracy Conner? The girl in our Junior Year Economics class. I remember you telling me she was a recruiter at AK Models now. Did you try her?”

  “AK Models didn’t return my call this time.”

  “But try Tracy anyway. She knows you, so maybe she can pull some strings.”

  I sighed. “Alright, maybe I’ll do that now. Can I call you back?”

  “Yes, please do. Travis is trying to climb the kitchen cabinets to get jellybeans. I need get him before he falls. He’s been so hyper since Mason and I got back from our honeymoon. Travisssss!” The phone made a thumping sound and clicked.

  I chuckled at how similar our calls were to when we were in High School, yet how vastly different they were at the same time. Layla was built to be a mom.

  I scrolled through my contacts, and thankfully I still had Tracy listed. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too offended that I was asking for favors after such a long time chatting.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hey Tracy,” I said.

  “How are you doing Amanda?” Something was a little off in her voice.

  “Not so well actually.” I clicked my lips together. “You know, I sent my portfolio over to AK Models about a week ago and haven’t heard anything back. Are agencies all booked up now? I’m having trouble finding work anywhere.”

  “Ummm…” Tracy sighed, and then I heard her footsteps and what sounded like her closing an office door. “Amanda,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Rick Chantley has it out for you…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He called AK Models and warned us not to work with you. Said you had some psychologic issues and drug dependence. I’m sure he called the other agencies he works with too, which is practically all the agencies in SoCal.”

  “What?! And you listened to him?”

  “He assisted with business development for AK years ago. He holds a lot of weight with the company. It would be a bad look if recruiting ignored him. An even worse look if people thought we were hiring known drug addicts.”

  “But I’m not a drug addict!”

  “I know, I know,” she said. “But you need to straighten things out with Rick first. Get him to clear your name and everything will be back to normal.”

  I was at a loss for words. “I’m… I’m…”

  “Look, I can’t talk long. Give me a call when Rick has fixed things, and I’ll get something set up for you.”

  “Yeah…”

  Again, the phone clicked.

  I was shocked. Somehow, even after separating from him, Rick was managing to control my life. He was a monster. A cold-hearted monster.

  I looked down at my phone again, unsure of who the next call would be. I didn’t want to call Rick, but part of me wanted give him a piece of my mind and beg him to quit spreading lies about me. But then he would win. He wanted me to call him. He wanted me to beg. He was a control freak, no matter how low he had to stoop to stay in control.

  No, I wouldn’t let him win this time.

  I scrolled to Layla’s contact and sent her a text message:

  Hey, Bitch. What do you think about your BFF settin’ up shop in Miami?

  Chapter 10

  Caleb

  I walked out of my parents’ house with my head spinning. I had gone to them for counsel, asking them what they thought of Mason’s proposal that I go to Miami and start racing there. I expected them to say “Nooo, please don’t go! We can’t stand to have both our wonderful sons so far away!” but instead they thought it was a good idea. They wanted to see me quit racing at The Bluffs and thought that going to Miami and working with my brother at the Mod Shop might give me a better perspective on life.

  Hell.

  Truth was, I was starting to want to go anyway. For the longest time, I always felt like I was chasing Mason’s shadow, to be the top racer in the OC, to accomplish everything he had. Meeting Hector, the cocky Miami racer, almost flipped a switch inside my head.

  It made me wonder if I really wanted to shadow Mason or if I wanted to carve out my own legacy in the world. Beating an undefeated racer like Hector might be the start of it.

  And for some weird reason, Mason ha
d started rambling that I was the best driver he’d ever seen. I questioned him about that after we left TITS, but he just insisted that I was gifted, skilled. He said that he was undefeated because he was a smarter driver, because he only took races that he knew he could win, and how The Beast was perfect for running the tracks at The Bluffs.

  I, on the other hand, he claimed had taken stupid races and that my car was better suited for racing tracks like the ones at TITS. He said if I just played smarter, I’d never lose.

  I didn’t really believe him though. It sounded more like he was trying to give his little brother an ego boost rather than speaking the truth. But it still felt nice knowing that he believed in me.

  I hopped into the GT-R and listened to the engine purr, rubbing my hand across the leather of the dash. She had been a great car since the moment I won her, and despite her being worth a small fortune, I had pushed her to the limits on several occasions. Never once did she back down to what was thrown at her.

  I could see her now, whipping around the tracks at This Is The Street in Miami.

  Almost as if my brother was reading my mind, Mason’s name appeared on my phone as it started to buzz.

  “Hey bro,” I answered.

  “Heya Caleb.” I was surprised to hear a female voice on the other end.

  “Layla?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Mason is in the shower. Are you coming to Miami or not?”

  “Well… umm… I’m kind of thinking yes. I haven’t told Mason yet.”

  “Really? Cool. Well, can I ask you a favor?”

  “Maybe…” It was unusual for Layla to ask me for anything.

  “Can you pick up Amanda and drive her to the airport on Thursday? She’s coming to stay with us for a while.”

  “What? Amanda is going to stay with you?”

  “Yeah, she’s going to look for work out here. Do you have time?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Mason is having The Beast shipped over there in the next few days. If I’m coming over there, I’ll need to ship my car as well. Let me work the details out with him first.”

  “Okay, thanks Caleb. Talk to you later.” Layla was a bit slow pressing her power button and a bit quick to share the news. I could hear her yell, “Babe! Caleb said he’s going to come to Miami!” halfway across her room before her phone shut off.