Rebel on the Run (Hot Rods)

by Rylon, Jayne

  “What’s so funny?” Tom swatted Rebel in the back of the head then shoved him toward the kitchen table, where so many of the Hot Rods’ troubles were hashed out.

  “Nothing. Nothing.” Bryce held his hands up. “Seriously. I think that’s a nervous tic or something.”

  Honestly, he couldn’t help smiling.

  Despite the gravity of the situation, a sliver of Bryce celebrated having Kaelyn in his life again for however long he might manage it. That kiss had been everything he’d dreamed of as a teen, and beyond.

  “It’s not like you to be edgy.” Tom narrowed his eyes as he took a seat across the scarred wood from Bryce, who still stood. “Usually you leave that to Roman. So why don’t you spit it out? Tell me quick how you’ve fucked up.”

  “Why assume I screwed up?”

  “Would you be here pussy-footing around if you hadn’t?” Tom grunted. “These little chats are becoming a regular thing lately. Eli, Al, Sally, Kaige…now you. Think I could have my own talk show on TV? No? Fine. So let’s put it on the table and figure out how to fix it.”

  The reassurance that it could be handled settled Bryce.

  He took a deep breath, leaned forward and held onto the edge of the table. “I lied to you.”

  “About what?” Tom didn’t seem angry, more curious.

  “Pretty much everything. Where I came from. My…situation.” Rebel cleared his throat.

  “Bryce, you’d have had to tell me something in order for it to be a lie.” A wave of Tom’s hand flashed knuckles that seemed more gnarled than Rebel remembered.

  “I guess I was embarrassed to admit the truth. Afraid you’d take me back if you knew I didn’t have it as bad as the rest of the Hot Rods.” He hung his head.

  “You mean because your dad is some highfalutin senator? A rich bastard?” Tom crossed his arms. “Huh. Didn’t make him any less of an asshole, did it? He certainly didn’t deserve you or any other kid.”

  “You knew? All along?” Rebel sat down hard, letting the air rush out of his lungs. “And you didn’t send me away?”

  “Rebel, you’re the only kid who’s ever shown up at the youth shelter in custom-tailored navy slacks and a blazer. Your story about the store feeling bad for you and donating them was lame. And so was your poker face.” Tom laughed as if remembering that day as clearly as Bryce did. “We did have the Internet, even back then. It wasn’t hard to pin you down when you only came from two states away. Especially when your father was using your so-called charity work in Europe to pander for votes. Sorry, Rebel.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.” He shrugged.

  “Look, there’s no way in hell I’d ever have let him have you after using you like that. There’d be no one to watch out for you since your mom had left you in that snake pit alone. I shouldn’t judge, though—maybe she didn’t have a choice. He might have threatened to harm her, or you, if she’d stayed.”

  “What do you mean?” Bryce leaned forward, his head tipping. He couldn’t hardly remember his mother. Not as more than a warm, soft memory comprised of big smiles and bigger hugs.

  “Oh, uh…” Tom cleared his throat. “I guess it’s time we both came clean. After you became one of the family, I hired an investigator. I stockpiled as much evidence as I could collect, the only kind of insurance I knew how to get. In case your dad tried to reverse his banishment—when it became convenient for advancing his agenda. The PI asked a lot of questions. Interviewed your old housekeepers, stuff like that. I’m sorry, Rebel, but I think your dad chased your mom out too. All accounts say she was unhappy once she realized your father had never loved her, only wanting an heir and a spot in her father’s party. She threatened to leave your dad and take you with her. If your grandfather hadn’t had a massive stroke a few weeks later, she probably would have gotten you both out.”

  Bryce’s heart sank as he realized his mother probably hadn’t died, like he’d always been told. Like Kaelyn, he’d taken too much at face value. Then a ray of hope burst inside him. “Did my father lie about her? Do you think she’s still out there somewhere? Could I track her down?”

  “No. Sorry, son.” Tom grimaced. “She really did get pneumonia. Probably a few months later than you thought, though. She didn’t last the winter without a place to stay. Her coward friends were afraid to cross your dad, I think. And, like you, she refused to take a penny of his dirty money. At least that’s what it seemed like from what scraps we could pry out of people. Certainly her bank account ran dry the day after she took off. I can’t tell you how badly I wish the shelter had been open back then and that she’d found her way there. Like you did.”

  Bryce recalled hounding his father about where his mom had gone. How he was told over and over that a boy couldn’t understand adult business. To accept that she wasn’t coming back. And finally when his father had “cracked” nearly half a year later and spilled the secret that his wife had passed away.

  Had the single tear that had tracked down Raymond Ellington’s—Bryce refused to ever consider that scum his father—cheek been real?

  Likely it had been. Except borne of relief rather than grief.

  “I was such a fucking moron.” Bryce had the urge to smack himself in the forehead, though he knew nothing could obliterate the shock and the dull ache blossoming in his chest.

  “Nah, you were a kid.”

  “What about Peter DuChamp? Have any dirt on him?” Bryce didn’t care so much about himself at the moment. He’d spent years missing his mother. Knowing the truth hurt, but it couldn’t bring her back. They needed to help Kaelyn break free of the same glass prison that had ensnared him and his mom.

  Their fathers wouldn’t win this time.

  “No, but we can find some if we need it. Why?” Tom sat back and steepled his fingers over surprisingly toned abs. For an older guy, he could still kick some ass.

  “His daughter, Kaelyn… She’s here. And she needs our help breaking away. Permanently. Her father tried to force her into marrying some dirtwad politician. Maybe a new running mate for her dad. He’s my dad’s rival, you know?”

  “Yeah. I never cared much for politics, but I’ve kept my eyes open when I heard about those two duking it out. Anything to do with your father, really. Maybe we could set them against each other somehow?” Tom sighed. “Let me think on it tonight. I can make contact with those old informants, see what we turn up.”

  “Jesus.” Bryce rubbed his temples. “It’s the same pattern over and over, isn’t it? Using people, threatening them, twisting the power bought by cash into a weapon that bludgeons people into submission. I thought I was so smart, getting out of the game. I can’t believe I didn’t think about how Kaelyn would be their pawn too eventually. I imagined her thriving there. A protected princess. A material girl put up on a shelf like a trophy and worshiped like the rest of the fine things they collected. Not being used like they tried to do to me. I didn’t belong there, but she always seemed like she did.”

  “You were young. And doing your best to survive.” Tom growled. “I should have asked you about it long ago, realized there might be more kids who needed help. That one’s on me. You were immature. I was the adult. You know, I always thought you were mourning your mom. I didn’t realize you’d left someone else behind.”

  “It nearly killed me, Tom.” To finally be able to say it out loud had Bryce’s heart cracking. “I only did it because I thought I was keeping her safe. That’s all that mattered to me. She was scared today. Hurt. Angry. I failed her.”

  “We both did. But I’ll make it up to your girl, I promise. We’ll get her out of this mess now. Find a way to keep her father, and yours, from interfering in your lives ever again. You know they’re coming, don’t you, Bryce? They’re not going to let this go. Not with a loose end out there that could hurt their campaigns. It’s an election year.”

  “I know.” He rubbed his temple, already preparing himself for the fight ahead. “I hope we have enough time to show Kae this
could be her place too, or help her find her own path. She’s not going to trust me easily, Tom.”

  “You might be surprised.” He grinned. “I can’t wait to meet her myself and see what I can feel out. Maybe I’ll give Ms. Brown a call and get her take on the situation. Nola’s mom is a great sounding board. And you know she’ll keep her lips zipped. Plus she’s way better at using the computer than I am. Between the two of us, and you kids, I’m pretty sure we can come up with a plan.”

  “Son of a bitch, what did I get myself into?” Bryce couldn’t help but laugh. With the meddling that was surely about to start, he stood no chance at resisting the chemistry that still zinged between him and Kae. Not that he wanted to.

  “Rebel, can I give you some unsolicited advice?” Tom paused as though he’d really hold his tongue if Bryce didn’t give him the go-ahead.

  “Of course.” He’d never ignore his adopted dad’s wisdom.

  “Be careful not to let your girl think your hatred of the corruption that scarred you includes everything from that life. If you’re not cautious, she might assume your crappy attitude is aimed at her and the pampering she had while you roughed it.” Tom laughed and waved him off when he tried to explain how he’d had everything he needed and then some with the Londons. “You’re going to be in for it. Kaelyn probably doesn’t even realize how spoiled she’s been.”

  “Maybe I wish I could keep her that way.” Bryce sighed. “I can’t give her everything she’s used to, but I can try my best to make things easy for her.”

  “Who says that’s what she wants?” Tom asked as he slapped Bryce on the back. “Why don’t you ask her how she sees her future? Help her figure it out. So much has changed, she’s got to be confused. And lost. Show her there’s another way. And that she’s welcome to drive down that road with you.”

  “How do you know that’s what I want?” Bryce didn’t outright deny it.

  “Because I know you. I can see the hope you’re trying to bury. Don’t give up without a fight, Bryce. Maybe you can have it all. Why not try?” For a moment, a cloud crossed Tom’s face. “Not everyone gets a second chance. Don’t blow yours.”

  “I won’t.” Bryce owed it to the man, who’d lost the love of his life too soon. “I promise. Thank you, Tom. Dad.”

  They hugged, quick though fierce. Then he strode for the door before the mist in his eyes could condense into tears.

  By the time Bryce crossed to the apartment, he’d gotten himself mostly under control. He loitered in the hallway with Holden, Kaige and a couple of the guys. They seemed to understand how much he needed them nearby to reassure him of the strength of their link. For the most part, finding out about his past hadn’t changed what they thought of the person they’d come to love over the last decade. They made that clear by teasing him about his girlfriend and otherwise making jabs like they would any other day.

  They didn’t even judge him when he laid his palm on the bathroom door, around the corner from his own room, knowing Kaelyn was in there. So close, and yet untouchable.

  They also didn’t try to stop him from kicking it in when she shrieked loud and shrill enough to shatter the mirror. Or at least it seemed like she had.

  Had she fainted again? Hit her head? Was she okay?

  He didn’t wait to find out.

  Kaelyn glanced around the bathroom. Simple yet functional, it seemed spartan compared to the opulence she’d lived with her whole life, long enough not to notice the fine materials or elegant fixtures until they’d been replaced with basic porcelain, cracked in a few spots. What she hadn’t been as oblivious to was the hole in her existence Bryce had left when he’d disappeared. Or the wounds his father had caused, like water damage seeping through the cracks opened by her insecurity and eroding the glue that had bonded her and Bryce. The man had used every opportunity to brag about his son’s conquests in Europe. And she’d taken the bait. Hook, line and sinker.

  She felt like one of the broken tiles she spotted on the shower surround. A less than perfect version of her old self.

  No matter how pissed off she wanted to be, she couldn’t help but be sad instead. Obviously, their friendship hadn’t meant the same thing to him as it had to her. Stupidly, she’d even dreamed that someday they might have…more. Once he’d gotten over his foolish sense of nobility, given their age difference. What was a few years’ gap once they were no longer teenagers?

  She’d never had the chance to find out.

  Then again, how could she blame him for doing the same thing she had by fleeing? Especially if, in some convoluted way, he’d thought his absence would insulate her from her dad’s scheming.

  It had, for a while.

  Hating Bryce became impossible when she thought with her head, instead of her heart. Darn it.

  Every part of her ached. At least she could do something about the muscles that had knotted with tension as she listened to the bitter truths Bryce spewed to his friends and to her. She trailed her fingers through the steamy water filling the plastic tub.

  A knock on the door startled her.

  “Kaelyn?” one of the Hot Rods’ women called to her.

  “Yes?” She clutched the borrowed robe around her, amazed by how soft it was despite the plain-ish synthetic material.

  “Feel free to raid Nola’s stash of bath bombs and goop in the baskets on the surround,” Sally offered, then begrudgingly admitted, “as much as I hate to say it, they do feel nice and help a girl relax.”

  “Ah, thank you.” Kae didn’t think they’d understand what her usual spa regime entailed. With no plans to enlighten them about the benefits of organic Japanese seaweed, she surrendered the terrycloth hugging her and dipped her toe in the bath. When had she become such a snob?

  Her father had counted on that weakness to keep her captive.

  Regardless of the blows she’d been dealt in the past several hours, her determination had not shaken. She would build her own life. One she could maintain and enjoy. The finer things hadn’t guaranteed her happiness.

  A sigh escaped her lips as warm water flowed around her, surrounding her in heat that penetrated her weary bones. For a while, she rested her head on the molded off-white tub and allowed her mind to drift, blissfully blank.

  When the temperature dropped a bit, she drained some water, then refilled it with a fresh batch. Tendrils of steam curled around her.

  “Doing okay in there?” Nola this time.

  Kaelyn wondered if none of them took marathon soaking sessions. Probably they had to work for a living. If the size of the operation below was any indication, they had enough jobs to keep them busy for a century. Screw it. She didn’t feel like hurrying. Or facing Bryce again.

  “Great,” she called softly. Maybe if she kept saying it, it would be true.

  “Let me know if you need anything.” The other woman chuckled. “I don’t mind bringing you a glass of wine. Or, you know, a whole bottle. Whatever it takes.”

  “Thank you.” Kaelyn giggled for the first time since she’d realized her father had tried to arrange her marriage in some medieval feudal proposition that would bind her and his backers permanently. “I think I’ll try one of these giant bath-salt things.”

  “Go ahead.” Nola sounded like she might be smiling. “Take your time.”

  Kaelyn poked around in the brightly colored blobs of baking soda and fruity-smelling oil. She sniffed one. Mmm, mango. Then she nudged a couple aside to dig for a flash of silver that caught her eye. A star. It reminded her of the nights she and Bryce had snuck outside to their tree house. Okay, more like a tree castle, to stare at the twinkling lights high above their heads.

  She recalled a night when she’d forgotten her sweater. After curling up against the furnace of his chest while they sat and talked for hours, she’d been careful never to bring a jacket again. The weight of his arm around her shoulders—casual and friendly—had been a highlight of those evenings. He’d felt like her rock when she’d rested her head against him. For a moment, w
hen he’d kissed her, she’d wanted to believe he could be that support again.

  Better yet, maybe she could be his too this time.

  The horror, and acceptance, on his face when his friend had rejected him had riled every instinct she possessed. Comforting had been second nature.

  It’d always been like that between them.

  When she’d disappointed her father by tripping on her ridiculous gown and falling down the stairs in front of guests at a campaign kickoff, he’d held her as she cried. Then he’d transformed her tears into laughter despite her sprained ankle.

  When he’d pissed his father off by hanging out with their maid’s son, she was the only person he’d told the real reason that Marietta had been fired. Together they’d arranged for Kaelyn to slip her cash to help out afterward.

  They’d made an awesome team.

  Why couldn’t things have turned out like she’d imagined back then? Probably because there was too much she hadn’t understood. Still didn’t. Maybe she’d never known him at all.

  Kaelyn held the starry bath bar in front of her, admiring the shine as she considered making a wish. It must have held more moisturizing oils than she realized because it slipped through her fingers, like a lot of other things in her life. With a distinct plop, it crashed into the bath and fizzed more vehemently than she anticipated.

  In fact, the froth that started out white turned blue as it bubbled near the lip of the tub. The water morphed, changing colors that might have been pretty if she hadn’t been worried about staining her hosts’ bathmat, or the entire tile floor, if the thing went bananas.

  When she lifted her arm from the mushrooming foam, she realized that oodles of the glitter that had coated the bath bomb now stuck to her skin like the flambéed bananas foster gone wrong she’d witnessed in an exclusive restaurant once.

  “Oh. Oh, no.” She stood up and realized the sparkles had turned her into some cross between the Tin Man and that horrible rhinestone-encrusted dress Mrs. Black had worn to her father’s last charity ball. “Holy crap.”