by Eden Connor
I had to find another way.
For the moment, there was only one thing left to do.
Drive like the devil was on my ass.
Chapter Twelve
“Shelby!” Caroline threw her car door open. I couldn’t help gaping at the shining, motorized sex machine she was driving. Jonny rolled Caine’s truck to a stop behind me while Caroline jerked the passenger door open and jumped inside the Mustang.
We hugged, but I kept eyeing the car over her shoulder while she giggled in my ear. “What the fuck is that?”
She pulled back, grinning broadly. “My Christmas present. Sweet, ain’t it?”
“My nipples are hard. What is it?” The sleek two-seater boasted a rakish profile, similar to Colt’s Corvette, but the lines were curvier. Jesus, it might be prettier than Kolby’s fancy Audi. Standing stock still, the car gave me the sense of a predator in a crouch, ready to chew up asphalt and kick ass.
Caroline bounced, her eyes snapping with excitement. “Dodge Viper. Jesse brought it down from Lexington last night.”
“Wow.” My heart kicked a bit. Poor Caroline. Now that Brandon had ditched her, was it Colt who was still feeding her this bullshit that her father bought her these expensive ca—
I jerked my gaze to her face. “Jesse brought it? In person?”
She nodded. “Mom got sober after little Shelby was born, so he don’t hate comin’ around now.” Leaning forward, she tugged her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. Thumbing through a couple of screens, she held out the latest model iPhone.
Robyn got sober? Something I might’ve known, had I not felt so guilty for getting out of this town after Caroline got pregnant and turned down a full scholarship.
How much of the scholarship funds earmarked for her had been diverted to me? The weight of that guilt had grown after her baby was born. I’d started avoiding her calls because all I had to talk about were exams and cute college boys. Meanwhile, she’d been left to raise a child alone because her ex-boyfriend and former stepbrother, Brandon McKenna, was a bigger dick than Colt
I took the device, scrolling through photo after photo of the former racecar driver who’d stepped behind the wheel for Richard Ridenhour after Dale quit driving. Though he’d left the Ridenhour team after only a year, Jesse Hancock was a god around these parts. I’d passed at least three billboards with his picture on them last night, driving to the house. There was no mistaking his face. Especially when standing beside a beaming Caroline, holding her little girl in his arms.
I’d never met the woman, but Robyn Mason had to be the parent who’d given Colt and Caroline their fair coloring. Looking at the photos, I realized Caroline’s eyes were the color and shape of Jesse’s. She had his jaw and nose, too. Colt had Dale’s features.
I handed the phone back to Caroline, but my mind went back in time to the day Colt shattered my world. I could almost hear Colt’s voice in my ear, saying he’d gotten the idea to take money from guys to fuck me after a race from Brandon, who was Caroline’s ex and Colt’s best friend.
Colt swore Brandon used the cash he took from guys wanting to fuck Caroline, and bought her the Dodge Challenger, but he also said Brandon told her the car was a gift from the father who’d abandoned her before she’d been born.
My heartbreak over the fact that my friend’s father wasn’t the source of the Dodge had stopped me from talking to her about the entire mess. I could’ve told her that her boyfriend turned her into a whore. But I absolutely could not tell her that Jesse hadn’t been the person who’d bought her that Dodge.
Except, apparently, he had.
So, was this what Caine had been trying to tell me when he reminded me how good a liar Colt was? I’d heard the rest of the story from someone else, so that part had to be true.
But, why would Colt lie about—
“Hey, where’d you go?” Caroline waved a hand in front of my eyes.
“I was wondering what happened to the Challenger? Since it was the car I learned to drive a stick in, I was kinda partial to it.”
“Oh.” She giggled, still sounding like a little girl. “You and me both. I had to sell it to buy a minivan right before little Shelby was born. I thought I’d told you that.”
“Maybe you did.” Four years had passed since she’d called to tell me about her daughter’s birth, but I still hadn’t quite recovered from my shock that Caroline had named her baby after me.
She laid her head against the headrest and rolled her eyes my way. “Oh, Shelby. I put my head down on that hood and cried like a little bitch when I had to sell that car, but I had to be a responsible parent.”
Picturing Caroline on the car’s hood was easy enough. Filling in her tears wasn’t difficult, either. Knowing how much the pick-up drag races that happened out here meant to her—well, the whole damn story had echoes of Dale.
Jonny yanked my door open. “Ladies, y’all want to chat? Take up knitting. Wanna beat Kolby Barnes? Let’s turn and burn.”
Of all the phrases, he had to pick that one? I’d barely gotten my half-baked revenge plan off the ground before Colt found a way to bring me to heel. Wasn’t I right where I’d sworn to never be again? Under his thumb, trying to find a way to forgive him? I scanned the lonely lane, staring at the leafless trees and soggy pines, still weeping with last night’s rain.
“I can’t believe you’re racing one of the hottest drivers in NASCAR. I told Jesse and he just about died laughing.” Caroline’s comment made me turn to her in dismay.
“Fabulous. Thanks for that.” I faked a scowl. “Get the fuck out.”
She let loose a peal of giggles. “No, dumbass. He said, ‘Who’s makin’ book? I’ll take Shelby and the points if Dale’s her crew chief, and I’ll bet the whole fucking farm.’” She touched my arm. “Listen, ask Dale if he’d mind if Jesse came? He said he’d really love to watch.”
“Like I want an audience for this disaster?” I muttered. Too many emotions hammered me. The respect and admiration I felt for Dale. The hatred burning in my soul for Colt and Caine. The bitterness of realizing I had to become my mother’s accomplice to protect my newfound father-daughter relationship. My paralyzing fear I was in over my head.
The idea that, in order to get even with Colt and Caine, I had to let Dale down.
Caroline’s cheeks glowed and her eyes gleamed with envy. “Shelby, you’re gonna put your car on the line against an honest-to-God NASCAR driver. That’s like, my dream come true.”
I’d already had one of Caroline’s dreams come true for me when she had to give up on it. Two made it seem like God had it in for this sweet young woman. I was glad I hadn’t eaten that damn bacon sandwich, because my stomach knotted.
The happiness in Caroline’s eyes faded. “You know Jesse got a stepdaughter when he married after he dumped Mama? She’s runnin’ in the Xfinity series with Colt. Her name’s—”
“Marley Taggart.” All the old gossip came back to me, stuff I’d gleaned during my few months here, and things people mentioned when they stopped me to talk about the ‘Cuda.
Marley’s biological father, Brad Taggart, had also been a NASCAR driver. After he’d died in an on-track accident, Jesse had vowed to look after his young wife and brand new baby girl. In the process, he’d fallen in love with Kim Taggart and had broken off his relationship with Robyn to marry Kim, even though he’d known Robyn was pregnant. He didn’t give a damn that he was abandoning Caroline to a mother who’d rapidly become an alcoholic.
NASCAR was like a daytime soap opera.
The idea that Caroline had to settle for illegal street racing, while Jesse’s stepdaughter had the weight of his career behind her bid to drive for NASCAR, pissed me off.
You bet your ass, I’d give up my virginity again to the disgusting fat bastard. Even today, I’d do whatever I had to in order to save Caroline’s car.
At least one good thing had come out of that horrible summer.
While I gave Colt a mental middle finger, Caroline ju
mped into her new toy. She lowered her window with the push of a button, while Jonny took her seat at my side and labored to turn the Mustang’s window crank.
He hooked the safety harness. “Fire it up.” Shoving his arm out the window, he slapped the Mustang’s roof. “Get the tires hot and let’s see what you can do.”
I turned the key in the ignition. The Mustang’s engine roared to life. I could barely see past the monstrous chrome breather jutting from the engine compartment, something new since the last time I’d driven this vehicle. The hood rested against the wall in the garage. That missing expanse of candy apple red metal bothered me.
Lifting the emergency brake, I pressed the gas pedal. The back wheels spun on the wet asphalt. The rear of the car swung toward the edge of the road. My heart lurched and I let off the gas.
“What’re you doing?” Jonny demanded. “Heat ‘em up, Shelby.”
“Didn’t you feel them slip? It’s too wet.”
“Then back the fuck up and get in the center of the road. You ain’t got a prayer of winning with cold tires.” His eye roll said I was an idiot for not drying the pavement under my starting position, but I’d be damned if I wanted to slide into Caroline’s new car if the Mustang decided to slip in the opposite direction.
Glaring, I jammed the shifter into reverse and backed up about twenty feet. His subtle headshake made me want to slap him. The only sign Caroline’s engine was even running was the small plume of smoke drifting from her exhaust—until she started her burnout. White smoke roiled from her tires.
Jerking up the hand brake, I shoved the gas pedal to the floor, shifted into first, and let the clutch out about halfway. At first, the tires just spun. Finally, the moisture burned off and the stench of burning rubber drifted into the car. Smoke blanked my view of the deserted lane in the rear view mirror.
I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the throb of the engine. The growl from the motor sounded deeper than I recalled. More intimidating.
What if the sheriff came out because someone called to complain of the noise?
Or because I’d basically dared him to keep an eye on what happened on this road?
I knew I had to quit stalling, so I let off the hand brake and eased to the line. Jonny threw the door open to squint at the faint white line of spray paint. “Whoa!”
I set the emergency brake again and hit the gas. The rubber was hot now, so the car didn’t slip before the tread grabbed the asphalt.
“Better.” Jonny grinned and patted my knee. “Take her ass down. So fucking tired of seeing these folks who can’t drive with these high dollar cars.”
I managed not to smile. Maybe I could entice him to race Caroline next. It would do my heart good to see him have to go to his knees and—
Uh, no. Not going there. What the fuck am I thinking?
I took a deep breath and slid my hands to the two o’clock and ten o’clock positions on the unfamiliar wheel. I narrowed my focus to the two white lines bracketing the deserted lane, but in my mind, I heard jeering male voices. My channel clenched as I felt ghostly thrusts from men I didn’t know.
“Ready!”
My concentration faded as sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I just wanted to get out of here. I dropped my right hand to the shifter. Letting the clutch out, I stomped the gas pedal to the floor, letting the handbrake do all the work.
“You burn out that brake and you’re screwed. Doubt there’s any place open to get a new part. Quit doggin’ it, Shelby.”
I ignored Jonny’s ill-tempered bark.
“Set!” In my head, I pictured Caroline’s taillights. There was no way I could beat her fancy new car. Not in this old Ford.
“Go!” Jonny barked. I let the clutch out. The rear tires made a gratifying grab. The front tires lifted off the asphalt. A slight lift of the front end was normal, but the Mustang just kept getting air under the front tires. My heart knocked against my ribs but I kept my foot on the gas. What goes up, must come down.
The front end kept rising, until I could see wet asphalt through the spaces in the engine compartment.
It’s gonna flip. I yanked my foot off the gas pedal. Relief sent a hot flush across my skin when the tires dropped to the pavement. Pressing the gas again, I yelled, “No!” when the back tires skidded sideways, toward the woods. I spun the wheel in the direction of the skid and jerked my foot to the brake.
Caroline’s taillights flashed—a quarter mile ahead.
“Fucking amateur hour.” Jonny scowled. “Jesus, Shelby, you gave up a full second before you even got off the line. Then you lost control of the goddamn car.”
“Well, I know all that!” Puffing my cheeks, I blew out a breath. “I just don’t know why it happened.”
His eyes widened. He unhooked his safety harness and made a grab for his phone. “See if you can get her backed up. Think you can handle that?” He jabbed a number and put the device to his ear. “Yo, Colt? Seriously, what’s Plan B?”
I eased forward so I could straighten, then reversed so hard, he snapped forward, but to my annoyance, he slammed a hand to the dash so I didn’t get to see him bleed. When I had the car lined up, I turned off the engine and rolled out. Slamming the door, I stalked from one end of the car to the other, watching Caroline’s smooth reverse through narrowed eyes.
She hung out of the window. “What happened?”
“I don’t know what the hell Colt’s done to this damn thing. It’s... it’s possessed.” I threw my hands out. Jonny let out a loud groan and slid down in his seat. Slapping a hand to the side of his face, he spoke into the phone, but I was too pissed to listen while he tattled.
“C’mon, Shelby. Let’s give it another go,” Caroline urged. “You just gotta get used to the car, is all. You can’t quit. We just got started.” She giggled. “And I still got gas in the tank. Fire it up, girlfriend. Let’s go, before my babysitter calls to say I need to come home.”
Easy to say sitting on sixty grand worth of new car. And why, oh, why, did she mention that baby? How could Colt ask her to do this? What if something happened? If the car continued to malfunction, I might lose control and hit her vehicle. If she got hurt, how would she work? I’d never be able to forgive myself if I made it impossible for her to look after her child.
“I’m telling you, it’s that... that,”—stabbing a finger at the monstrosity sprouting from the engine, I spluttered—“whatever the fuck that is. It’s not set right or something.” I crossed my arms over my chest and bent my knees, stooping to glare through the window until Jonny slung his door open and got out.
After scanning the engine compartment, he glanced up. “Huh. Hang on, I see the problem.” He reached in to wiggle a belt on the chrome plated phallic symbol the guys called a breather.
“Oh, okay.” He straightened with a smile. “You were right. All good now. Let’s go.”
“Do you think I was born yesterday? How many damn hours have I spent watching Caine and Colt play around in this engine? You didn’t fix a goddamn thing.”
“Because there’s nothing to fix.” His reasonable tone made me clench my fists. “Let’s try again.”
“Grrr!” I yanked the door open and flopped into the seat. Feeling for the lever, I tried to adjust the seat forward. The seat slid forward the extra inch I needed, but there didn’t seem to be a catch at the right spot.
“We didn’t make any adjustments to the upholstery. You need to worry about some shit that might help.” He blew a raspberry.
“I will slap you.” I wrenched the safety harness over my shoulder.
He ducked his head to study the side mirror before he cut hard eyes to mine. “Do I need to explain what would happen next?”
His hot and cold act reminded me too much of Colt. “Look, Jonny, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I left you standing in that parking lot yesterday because I don’t want what you have to offer.”
He raked his hands through hair that was already a hot mess. “Thank God you
did. I need to play nice with the Hannah family. Giving their little sister a much-needed tumble would’ve blown up in my face. But—”
“No worries. I would never out you.”
Relief washed over his face. Which, in turn, made me relax, now that I had an explanation for why he’d cooled off around Dale and the boys.
The crunch of tires made me glance into the rear view mirror. Caine skidded to a halt off the side of the lonely lane and got out of Dale’s truck. Waving to Caroline, he strode to the GT500’s engine compartment and peered at the blower. To my relief, he began to nod after a moment’s perusal.
“What’s the matter with it, Caine?” Caroline called.
“Lubrication issue.” Caine straightened and stalked to my door. Yanking it open, he barked, “Get out, Shelby.”
I slid out of the car, but didn’t get why Caroline started clapping. “Oh, this is the best Christmas gift ever,” she squealed.
Looking from her to Caine, I tried to catch up. “So, you brought what you need to fix it?”
Caine curled a hand around my arm. “The car doesn’t need lubricating. You do. Spread your legs.”
I jerked from his grasp, alarmed by the hard thump his commanding tone sent to my girlie bits. “No! I’m not the stupid girl who does whatever you say anymore, you bastard.” I had plenty more to say, but Jonny’s presence saved Caine from hearing it.
He took the wide stance I was learning to hate and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, just hear me out. After Jonny called, I got to thinkin’. When I taught you to drive, I mixed racin’ up with sex in your head. I think that’s your problem, because all that big blower’s doin’ is gettin’ more air to the fuel mix, so you can fly.”
I wanted to scream, but kept my voice low. “You’ve been here all of one minute, Caine. You don’t know what my problem is.” His grin told me I’d misspoken. I hurried to say, “What the car’s problem is, I mean.”
The way his eyes narrowed made me wish I wasn’t backed up against the Mustang’s door.
