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FUEL (DirtSlap Series Book 1)

Page 1

by Ashlynn Pearce




  FUEL

  DirtSlap Series

  By

  Ashlynn Pearce

  FUEL

  FUEL Copyright © 2015 Ashlynn Pearce

  Kindle Edition

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Published by: Whimsy Notions Press, LLC

  Cover artist: PickymeArtist.com

  Editor: Labelle’s Writing on the Wall

  Formatting: BB eBooks

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Whimsy Notions Press, LLC.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Use of artists and song titles are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  Dedication

  To my man…for always being there. You’re in every hero I write. I love you.

  To my girls…

  Linda ~ for always being there. Never letting me give up and keeping me sane through some of the darkest days of my life.

  Nichol ~ for being my first ever fan and becoming a best friend. You know I couldn’t have done this without you!

  Silver ~ for being the best cheerleader a girl could ask for.

  Jennifer ~ For being an inspiration and always telling me I can do it. Can I be you when I grow up?

  To every person who reads my stories.

  Thank you.

  It’s been a long road getting back and I cherish that you’ve taken the time to buy and read my books.

  Love and happy reading/writing!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Coming Soon: Wreck

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Free.

  She was finally free.

  The air brakes hissed as the bus came to a stop at the depot. Cassie Dalton stepped off for the first time since she’d boarded nine hours ago. She tightened her long ponytail and walked down the sidewalk to peer around the bus. Her hometown was barely big enough for a high school, much less the multiple story buildings that stretched into Nashville’s blue sky.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The warmth from the Tennessee sun relaxed her and she shook off all she’d left behind. Her life started now.

  She rubbed the worn, brown leather cuff on her left wrist. This is for you, Cam.

  She’d done it. She wouldn’t spend another birthday in that slow as molasses po-dunk town. She’d barely resisted flipping off Oklahoma when she crossed the state line. Now, she was headed to New York, with a one-way ticket.

  She was more than ready to start her new life.

  Everything she owned fit in a backpack and duffle bag. She didn’t need much. With those bags in hand and a couple of hours before the next bus would show, she walked to a nearby convenience store, grabbed a sandwich, a bottle of water, and sat beneath a tree.

  The late spring breeze ruffled her hair and fluffy clouds dotted the sky. She’d expected Nashville to be cold concrete. Instead, the city burst through the trees and blended seamlessly into the countryside. Unlike Memphis, with its raw edgy feel, Nashville was a gem in a midst of green.

  She glanced at the time on her phone and frowned. She got up, stepped into the mostly empty bus station and moved to the office window.

  “Isn’t the next bus to New York supposed to be here already?” she asked the tiny man behind the counter.

  He blinked at her, his eyes huge behind the lenses of his glasses. “Seems there’s been a problem. Your next bus won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon at two.”

  “Why?”

  “Bus broke down.”

  She sighed. “Guess I’m stuck here for the night.”

  She took a glimpse of the skyline. Not a bad place to spend her twenty-first birthday. It was light years from Woodbridge Grove, Oklahoma. And that was good enough for her.

  After she checked into a cheap motel, she roamed down Honky Tonk Row ready to celebrate her freedom, and her birthday. She’d never had much to be happy about, but now she couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips. Even though it was Wednesday, the place was hopping…at least to her it was. She’d never seen so many people, in one place, in all her life.

  Music poured out of each bar, club, and restaurant she passed. She paused to take it all in. A couple of bars over a band played a cover of Jason Aldean’s Crazy Town and it had her tapping her worn boots. The tune seemed more than appropriate, so she followed the sound.

  The bouncer at the door stopped her, asked for ID, then grinned when he looked at it.

  “Twenty-one today, huh?” he said more than asked.

  “Yep. Is that a probl—”

  “Hey, Cliff,” the bouncer yelled into the bar, “you got a virgin here.”

  Cassie froze at his choice of words and was hauled inside by one of the laughing waitresses. “Ah, you look as fresh as they come, sweetie.”

  The woman shoved her onto a barstool and the bartender slapped the wood right in front of her so hard it made her jump. “Ooowee! So you’re the virgin, huh?”

  She blinked as heat crawled up her cheeks. She hoped they were talking about her birthday and not something else. But she couldn’t tell because the music was deafening, and she had gathered a crowd. A crowd that hooped and hollered around her, making her ears ring.

  “No one with you, darling?” asked Cliff.

  She shook her head.

  He lowered dark brows and gave her a knowing smirk.

  “Well, you won’t be alone for long.” He poured her a shot. “Bottoms up. Virgin, you’ll be no more.”

  With the partygoers chanting bottoms up, she warily picked up the glass and downed it. She choked on the burn that sizzled all the way to her toes. But as people roared in approval and clapped her on the back, she tossed her head on a laugh. For the first time in her life, she didn’t worry about who might judge her. She didn’t have to keep a look out over her shoulder for the next snide remark or, even worse, for her dad’s next slap. She couldn’t live like that anymore.

  And vowed she never would.

  With a group of strangers, she could be herself.

  “Cliff, give me another one.” Her voice rang clear with confidence and her heart beat fast with the knowledge she could make her own rules.

  He happily set her up.

  Cassie was having the time of her life. Not once did she have to pay for a drink. And if she wanted to dance, countless guys stood in line to fill the role. They’d told her their names, but she hadn’t paid enough attention to remember them. Not until one guy, Mason, who kept slipping his hands where she didn’t want them.

  The bar became downright suffocating, and she needed some air, so she stepped outside. She made her way toward the Cumberland River to breathe and clear her head but hadn’t gotten very far when an arm wrapped around her waist. She turned in time for lips to land on hers.

  She was lit, but her instincts were still intact f
rom years of having to fight for herself. She sunk her teeth into his lip. The guy yelped, loosened his grip and she brought her elbow hard into his face.

  Slippery hands Mason, she sneered and was about to kick him in the nuts when someone stepped between them.

  “Hey, dude, back off. I don’t think she wants your attention.”

  Cassie’s brows furrowed as her fuzzy brain latched onto that voice. She stared at the broad back encased in black leather attempting to decipher how she knew him.

  “How do you know? Maybe she’s playing hard to get,” Mason mumbled.

  The guy chuckled. “Sure. Like she didn’t just bloody your lip. And I think she was about to kick you in nuts. Take a walk, man. You don’t want any part of this.”

  Cassie rubbed her eyes and swayed on her feet. That voice . . . She knew that voice but couldn’t place it.

  “Darlin’, you all right?” The guy had turned toward her and touched her elbow.

  She opened her eyes and the blood drained from her face. No. It couldn’t be him.

  “Hey, you okay?” He cocked his head. “Wait. Do I know you?”

  Those familiar blue-gray eyes narrowed as he stared at her. She tried to answer. But the only thing she accomplished was opening her mouth and gaping like an idiot. Happiness, sheer joy, sadness then rage hit her all at once. Every emotion she had kept locked away bubbled to the surface. How the hell had she run into him of all people? It made her head spin worse than all the alcohol she had consumed.

  “Thrand,” she yelled and balled her fists, ready to punch his shocked face.

  “Buzzkill?”

  She hadn’t heard that nickname in years and her heart constricted. His face blurred through her watery gaze. It was too much. Her stomach rolled and lurched.

  Then she threw up on his boots.

  *

  Thrand Medlam peeked into the dim bathroom to check on Cassie. She was sitting up, her back against the tub, her elbows resting on her knees, with her head in her hands. Long honey-blonde hair covered her face.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Oh my god. I thought I was awake.”

  “What?” He put a glass of water and two aspirin on the sink and squatted in front of her. He touched her head. “Cas.”

  She screeched and jumped so hard she banged her elbow on the tub. “Shit.”

  He got a glimpse of green eyes through the fall of her hair as she rubbed her arm.

  “You’re…real. Fuck.” She dropped her head back to her knees.

  “As real as the vomit I cleaned off my boots.” Thrand chuckled.

  She groaned. “I really did that?”

  “Yup. You also puked in my toilet all night. But it’s okay. I think that’s how most people spend the morning after turning twenty-one.” When she didn’t answer or look at him he asked, “Would you like some breakfast?”

  “You’re joking, right? Unless you want a repeat performance…no.”

  “Got it.” He grabbed the water and aspirin. “Take these and drink. I promise they’ll help.”

  She pushed her hair out of her face and licked her lips.

  “I highly doubt it,” she muttered but took them. When her hand brushed against his, he stared into her face—the same yet different.

  He couldn’t believe Cassie Dalton, his best friend’s little sister, was in his home. Seven years had passed since he’d last seen her. She’d been fourteen, him nineteen. He never thought he’d see her again.

  “Take a shower. I’ll get you one of my shirts and some coffee. That should help perk you up.” His voice was hoarse. The memories of everything he had left rushed back in force.

  “My shirt is fine. Thanks.”

  “Darlin’, I believe it fared worse than my boots.”

  She looked down. “Ewww…yeah, okay. At least I know what that smell is now. Yes, shower. Clean shirt.”

  He grabbed her hand and helped her up, putting his other hand on her waist when she swayed into him.

  “I’ll never drink that much again.” She gripped his arm and peered at him.

  Her gaze struck him hard. Innocence clung to her face even with a hangover. How had she held onto that when he knew what, or more to the point, who she’d lived with? And he’d left her there to deal with it on her own. Had she gotten the help he’d tried to get for her?

  She continued to stare, and he tried to read her thoughts. He knew last night she was ready to hit him. Did she still feel that way? And the biggest question of all, how the hell had she found him?

  He stepped back. “I’ll get that shirt.”

  He took the stairs two at a time, headed to his bedroom, pulled the first shirt he found out of his closet, then rushed back down. He dropped the garment on the sink in the bathroom. Cas was already in the shower, her clothes piled on the floor.

  Yeah, he was not going to think of her naked in his shower because right now, she was anything but a buzzkill.

  He was making coffee when he heard the barstool slide. He turned and almost dropped his cup. Her hair hung in long, wet strands and she’d tucked his loose shirt into the front into her frayed denim shorts. It brought attention to those mile-long legs and bare feet.

  She’d certainly grown up. No longer the lanky, shy girl he’d left, she was a woman who looked him right in the eye. They’d been close back then and seeing her like this blindsided him.

  Hot didn’t even begin to describe what she was doing to his blood. His friends would call her a long, tall cool one. But she was more like a strong shot of whiskey leaving that same sort of burn.

  He placed the cup in front of her as she slid onto the stool.

  “Better?” he asked and forced himself to focus on who she was—a girl who had once been a lot like a sister to him.

  “Much. Thanks.” She took a sip. “Caffeine, the cure for anything.”

  Her lips curled up slightly and he leaned against the counter.

  “So how did you find me?” He’d told no one where he was going when he left Oklahoma and he hadn’t talked to any of them since.

  “Really? You think I came here looking for you?” She took another drink then straightened her spine, her eyes chips of green ice. “You left. Without a word. Why the hell would I come looking for you?”

  “I think it’s a little coincidental that you ended up here.”

  She shoved at her wet hair and choked on a sarcastic laugh. “You’re telling me. Trust me, I had no idea you were here. I’m on my way to New York. Transfer bus is supposed to be here at two.”

  “You’re headed to New York? Why?” He had been to New York and no matter how different or tough she seemed, that place would eat her up and spit her out.

  “Yeah. No worries. I’ll be on a bus headed that way in a few hours. And why not? Anywhere is better than where I was. You should know that. You took off as soon as you could.” Venom laced her voice and matched the fire in her eyes.

  Oh yeah, she still wanted to punch him.

  “Cas, that’s no place for you and,” he scrubbed his face and sighed. “I tried—”

  She held up her hand. “Save it. I really don’t care. Just take me to my motel and I won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

  *

  Cassie didn’t say much as they got in his truck and headed to her motel. The fourteen-year-old girl she used to be was thrilled beyond belief to see him. The woman she’d become was ticked off.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her from stealing glances at him. At his house, he’d been wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans and she wasn’t immune. He’d filled out quite nicely. She’d thought he was cute before…but now? He was what women posted as wallpaper on their desktops so they could drool on a regular basis.

  He’d really thought she was looking for him? How dare he?

  He’d left her there to deal with her drunk father. Alone. The last person she ever thought to see again was Thrand Medlam. No way in hell was she about to admit that her first instinct was to hug hi
m and not let him go.

  “What do you do here?” She had to say something so she wouldn’t fixate on the tattoos that emphasized his arm and made him sexier than he was already.

  “Drums. I play in studios and fill in for bands around town now and then.”

  “You don’t have your own band?”

  “No. I like what I’m doing. I also write songs. Bartend when it’s slow.”

  He wore a black cap on backwards and dark sunglasses, so she couldn’t read his eyes, but his lips twitched. She wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile or frown. He also sported a beard clipped close to his face. So short it was just scruff. Her hand itched to test the feel.

  She nervously twisted her hair and looked out the window as she pointed to her motel. “Room 54.”

  “This is where you’re staying?” He didn’t bother hiding the disdain in his voice and it pissed her off.

  She glared at him. “You have a problem with it?”

  “Hell yeah, I have a problem.” He shoved up his glasses and glared back. “Could you have picked a more unsafe place?”

  She lifted her chin in defiance. “It was the best I could do.”

  She got out and slammed the truck door. She damn sure couldn’t wait to be on that bus to New York, because she didn’t get out of that hell-hole just to have someone tell her she was doing everything wrong.

  She searched through her purse for the key.

  “Don’t think you need the key.” He stepped up and pushed at the door that was already slightly ajar.

  The breath left her body as she rushed into her trashed room. Her clothes were strewn all over the place. “No…”

  She shoved past Thrand and lifted the mattress where she had hidden her money. Gone. All two thousand she had scraped and saved to get out of Oklahoma was gone.

  “No. No. This cannot be happening.” Her heart thundered in her chest. What the hell would she do now?

  “Don’t tell me you hid your money between the mattresses? That’s the first place they look.”

  She grit her teeth, willing herself not to cry.

  “That was the only place my father wouldn’t find my money.”

 

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