Turn & Burn: Revenge is a Red-Headed B*tch (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 2)

by Eden Connor

  “Hang on,” Caine said, mildly. “Carry this armload of clothes, will you? This won’t take long if we all pitch in.”

  I stared down at the bright, unstained concrete driveway, unwilling to lift a finger to help Mom do a damn thing.

  “Gotta pee first.” Whirling, I rushed through the garage and into the kitchen. The door was closed to the first bathroom I found. Squeezing my thighs together, I eyed the traffic on the stairs. Colt and Jonny each had an armful of clothes, but they had to wait while one of the delivery guys tromped down, carrying huge pieces of cardboard.

  I leaned my head against the door, suddenly worn out from living my fucked-up life. Now that Harry had Phillip, even his place would no longer be a refuge. Maybe I could stay with Ernie and Francine until the dorms reopened.

  “Jamie?”

  I jerked upright, startled by Bliss’s furtive tone. I pressed my ear to the door and held my breath, wishing my heart would beat more quietly.

  “Now that I’ve had a chance to get a better look at Macy’s daughter, I agree with her. This girl doesn’t have what it takes to win a race. She’ll choke it down on the start line. She’s wandering around in a dance leotard, for heaven’s sake. Shelby’s nothing like Hancock’s bull dyke of a stepdaughter. So, you can stop worrying. If Dale can’t raise his part of the money, you won’t have to tell him you’ve changed your mind about backing Hannah-built Racing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Shelby. How you been, sweetie?”

  I threw my arms around Lee Haney. “Good, Lee, real good. How about you?”

  “Well.” He chuckled while I searched his face. Maybe I spied a few new wrinkles, but his eyes twinkled. “Can’t complain. I’m thinkin’ about chargin’ admission for this race. Everybody in town’s talkin’ about it.”

  “I wish we could close it down to pit crews and drivers only.” My heart took the usual nosedive whenever someone mentioned a crowd. Who was running their mouth? Had to be Kolby. Dale had been busy reminiscing with Ernie when he hadn’t had his head under the hood. Colt and Caine had Jonny to occupy their spare time. I couldn’t recall seeing either of my brothers tapping out text messages.

  I spied Chris and waved. It took an effort to think of him as Rowdy. “Guess my trainer’s ready to put my ass to work.” I grinned and hopped into the ‘Cuda, rolling down my window as I drove through the gate and passed through the tunnel leading to the straight track.

  “Sounds like Caine’s been under that hood.” Chris cocked his head. “Pop the release, will ya?”

  He disliked Caine and Colt. Maybe he was working for Kolby. And maybe I was paranoid. I wished Caine hadn’t stopped to fill up the gas cans. Surely, Dale would’ve mentioned not showing anyone, if it mattered. After all, could Caine tune the damn thing without Chris seeing it? Hiding the engine swap smacked of cheating, so I pulled the lever. Chris worked the pins in the hood latches free and raised the hood.

  Chris immediately peered around the hood. “This sure as hell ain’t no stock Barracuda engine.”

  I leaned my head out of the window. “No, that’s the engine out of the twenty-two car.”

  He stared for a minute, then started laughing. “Damn, Dale Hannah’s got balls the size of Texas.”

  He strode to the window and leaned in. Letting out a long whistle, he asked, “I reckon Caine fabricated that roll cage?”

  “I guess.” I gazed at the empty spot where the passenger seat had been. The carpet and back seat had been removed, too. The seat under me was new, and the carbon fiber it was made of was hard and uncomfortable. Steel pipe formed a basket around me. It didn’t make rational sense, but the cage made it difficult to take a deep breath if I thought about it too hard.

  Chris stuck his arm through the window, sliding a hand across the metal.

  “He’s a fucking god with a torch.”

  “For a man who admires his work so much, why don’t you like him?”

  “Got no problem with Caine, really. It’s Colt I can’t stand. But Caine’s always got his back.” He scuffed his boots on the asphalt. “Makes it hard to be friends with one and not the other.”

  “Be nice. He’s on his way. Stopped to fill up the gas cans.”

  He studied my face. “Just not gonna let me get you alone, are you?”

  “I’m trying to get ready for a race,” I snapped. “There’s a lot riding on this, you know, even if it’s not a NASCAR-sanctioned event. I can fuck anybody, any time, and so can you. So, right now, you’re either part of the solution or part of the problem. Which is it?”

  He gripped the top edge of the door, looking into my eyes. Finally, he broke into a smile and nodded. “Leaving early is worse than leaving late, because of the DQ. If disqualifications aren’t part of this bet, then look for Barnes to make a lot of false starts. That’s what I do, in his shoes. Wear you down and wait for you to get a bad jump off the line, then turn and burn.”

  I frowned. “But that’ll make him look—”

  “Foolish? Like a rookie?”

  I nodded.

  “Shelby, Kolby’s no rookie. I’d rather look foolish than cough up four million dollars. Don’t underestimate him. The man’s lethal when he gets behind the wheel. He will have a strategy—for winning and for losing. If it were me, I’d exploit your lack of hours behind the wheel. That’s why I say he’ll go for the series of bad starts and wait for your mistake.

  “Then I can’t make one. Let’s do this.” I took a deep breath. Holding it for a long five-count, I let it out slowly and fixed my peripheral vision on the lights. Yanking up the handbrake, I started my burnout.

  “Gonna use both lanes.” Chris cupped his hands around his mouth to yell. Don’t you dare get a preference, you hear me?”

  I wrenched my head around to stare, open-mouthed. I let off the gas to hear him better.

  “You like the left-hand lane, amirite?”

  I nodded. I always picked that lane.

  His grin evaporated. “I knew it. Get your ass over, right fucking now.” He slapped the hood. I slammed the visor of my borrowed helmet down and jammed the shifter into reverse.

  I’d made three—horrible—starts by the time Caine arrived.

  Chris greeted him with a middle finger. “Well, hello, motherfucker. Pisses me off to know that I’d still have my damn engine if I’d have just claimed the left lane that night.”

  Caine cut his eyes toward me, but lifted his shoulders with a cocky grin. “That’s racin’.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “About damn time the pizza got here.” Caine sprang off the loveseat and snatched the pile of cash off the coffee table. I stared at my shoes to keep from grinning while he hurried to the front door. Since when had pizza ever arrived, way out here in the sticks, less than fifteen minutes after we’d ordered?

  Caine’s voice boomed from the small foyer. “Just go through that door and hang a right. Everybody’s in the den.”

  Colt muted the television and looked up. “Who’s that?”

  “I invited Chris.” Colt still scowled. “Rowdy. Whatever.”

  Colt’s brows drew together. “Why?”

  I leaned close enough to whisper. “One, he helped me out today, big time. Two, I want to fuck him. Three, you need more friends on the track, Colt.”

  Jonny snickered and closed the recliner’s footrest with a snap.

  “Hey, y’all.” Rowdy turned the corner and stepped into the den. He threw up a hand. Colt gave him a short nod, but Jonny said hello. I patted the cushion next to me, but our guest stopped beside the coffee table. “Red Viper came down the drive behind me. Made me wonder what the hell was behind those seven garage doors.”

  “I uh, might’ve invited Caroline, too.” I flashed Colt a grin. If it killed me, Caine was going to have sex with Caroline tonight.

  “Not givin’ tours today. Santa’s been known to hide shit out there.” Colt finally stood and extended a hand. “How’s it hangin’, Rowdy?”

  “Have yo
u met Jonny Jet?” I gestured in his direction. “He’s driving in the Xfinity series with Colt next year.”

  “Yeah, I heard somethin’ about that.” Rowdy let go of Colt’s hand in a hurry, but pumped Jonny’s. Eyeing the way he and Colt glared, I clenched my internal muscles. With any luck, they’d take all that competitive aggression out on me.

  “Merry Christmas!” Caroline stepped into the room. Caine followed on her heels.

  “Damn. Shelby, you shouldn’t have. But, thanks for the gift. I already know it’s a perfect fit.” Jonny moved around Rowdy, who peered over his shoulder, wide-eyed.

  I couldn’t blame him. The red dress hugged Caroline’s curves like cable-knit skin. Her hair gleamed and she’d taken the time to blow dry the waves out of it. Jesus, even I wanted to fuck her. I’d never seen her wear dark lipstick, but the scarlet gloss looked great on her.

  Jonny wrapped his arms around her and proceeded to smear it. Rowdy finally stumbled to my side and took a seat, but I had my eyes on Caine, who stepped into the room. He studied Caroline’s ass, something I found encouraging.

  I turned to bat my lashes at Rowdy. “We’re just waiting for the pizza. Then, we’re going downstairs. Rumor has it, Colt and Caine sprang for a pool table. I’m hoping they’ve made up some dirty game we can all play.” I patted his knee. “You, uh, do know how much this family likes their group sex, right?”

  Every head swiveled in my direction, but none turned as hard as Rowdy’s. Looking away, I pointed at Caroline. “And it’s your turn to go down on me, or your fine ass is going home right now.”

  “Oh, I came to stay the night.” She winked and ran a finger along her lower lip, swiping away the smudge when I pantomimed to tell her about the mess Jonny’d made of her lipstick. “As you might’ve noticed, I went a bit overboard at the thought of hanging out with grownups.”

  “No worries.” I gave her a smile. “You won’t have it on long.”

  “Well, Merry fucking Christmas,” Rowdy muttered as the doorbell chimed again.

  Caine carried a stack of pizza boxes into the room. Colt tossed one six-pack of soft drinks to Jonny and snagged the second one. I checked the drawer in the coffee table, grinning when I found the expected box of Trojans.

  That giggle. God, it made me smile every time. I planned the perfect gift for her—Caine. And if my gift came with a side order of discord for my stepbrothers, all the better. They weren’t going to rattle my cage and not get a shove in return.

  “Okay.” I pushed the empty pizza box aside a few minutes later. There was nothing left but crusts. “I don’t actually play pool, so y’all need to factor that in. Oh.” I made a point to look at Rowdy and Jonny. “I don’t give head, either.” Winking at Caroline, I added, “At least, not to guys.”

  “What?” Rowdy demanded. “Caine, how’d this sweet young thing grow up with such a gap in her education?”

  “Well.” Caine cleared his throat. “Don’t let her kid you. Of course we taught her to give head. It’s just the worst head you’ll ever get. But, around here, only losers have to kneel. And Little Miss Thang ain’t been beat, so we didn’t work too hard on it.”

  “Damn.” Jonny made a sad face. “Why doesn’t my family have Christmas Eve orgies?”

  Rowdy cleared his throat. “I’m kinda thankful mine don’t. My girl cousins don’t look nothin’ like these two.”

  “You know what?” All eyes turned to Caroline. “I hate pool. Let’s race. I know y’all got a fifty-five gallon drum around here somewhere. Let’s grab a load of firewood and a barrel and go out to the old housing development.” Swinging her hip, she butted Jonny. “The usual rule applies. We got to get that Corvair Hemi in the game. Sweet ride, by the way. Can’t wait to beat it.”

  Colt nodded, but I shook my head. “Call me superstitious, but, if something happened to the ‘Cuda before the race with Kolby—”

  “Oh, big brother has something you can drive.” Colt winked, prompting a groan from Caine.

  I assumed he meant the GT500, until Caine punched Colt’s shoulder. “You and your fucking big mouth.”

  “It ain’t my mouth that’s big, asshole.” Colt punched him back.

  My curiosity skyrocketed as Caine led the procession to the garage. I huddled between Caroline and Rowdy, watching Caine lift the center door.

  He disappeared inside. Moments later, an engine fired. The lights above each bay revealed Rowdy’s sudden tilt of the head when the rear end appeared. “Camaro. What make and model, Colt?”

  Colt’s grin had no trace of friendliness. “It’s a’69 ZL1. Engine was blown. He’s rebuilding that, but meanwhile, Caine just happened to have a little something to fit.”

  I studied the white graphic along the side as the deep blue car slid past me. A wide white graphic, edged in black, split the paint. I gasped in recognition. The design had been tilted at a forty-five degree angle and the stripe of white had been extended to the bottom edge of the metal, but I’d know those feathers anywhere. I’d drawn them at eighteen and they still gleamed from the sides of the ‘Cuda.

  “That’s my design!”

  Caine braked and rolled his window down. “Yep. Wait till you see the front end. I got a fella to draw that chicken splattered on the hood, so it looks like the damn feathers came from somewhere.”

  Caroline burst out laughing.

  “There better not be a chicken.” I huffed. Jonny looked puzzled, but Colt laughed so hard, he collapsed against the garage. I shook a finger at Caine. “You owe me a licensing fee, dammit. You can’t just steal someone’s design.”

  “Oh, I feel your pain, Shelby.” Rowdy jumped in. “That’s my goddamn engine, ain’t it, motherfucker?”

  Caine reversed so that Colt could lower the garage door. I eyed the handwritten font style he’d chosen to scrawl ‘Hannah-built’ along the door, unable to decide whether I liked his choice or not, before he slid from behind the wheel.

  “Guess I’ll grab a barrel and toss some firewood into the truck.” Sweeping a hand toward the car, he grinned. “If you’re serious about that licensing fee, make me an invoice. But, prepare to be patient, because I spent every last dime gettin’ her painted. I’m unemployed till February and my daddy don’t pay my damn bills.”

  Imagine that. A man who paid his own bills. Shut up, Caine. Stop making me fall in love with you.

  “That’s my engine,” I corrected Rowdy with a smile. “I won it, fair and square.”

  “I think I got her sold. I figure I’ll be done with the rebuild in a few days. Soon as she cuts me the check, I’ll pay you for your design. As for the engine you won, Shelby, I got it earmarked for a little project that ain’t ready to sell yet, but your name’s right beside mine and Colt’s on the title.” He cut Jonny a glare. “And don’t let him fool you. That Corsa can rock ‘n roll.”

  He put my name on a title? Why can’t you just be a regular douchebag, Caine? Make it easier to hate you. I jumped into the Camaro. “Then I’ll take him on first.”

  Caroline led the procession to the old housing development. I pulled through the barricades behind Caine. Caroline and I dove to the left-hand side of the road. Jonny lined up beside me. Rowdy pulled the Monte Carlo into the lane beside Caroline.

  Everyone rolled out of their vehicles and gathered in the road.

  Caine gestured. “I’ll go start the fire. You four race, losers pay up, then we’ll make new brackets. Be right back to drop the flag. Colt, you video the finish line for the first two heats.” While everyone agreed, he poked me in the arm. “That’s a five-speed, by the way.”

  I lifted my middle finger. “Got it.”

  “When did they close the road?” Caroline turned to peer behind us.

  “Sherriff did it.” I shrugged. “He called for a road maintenance crew instead of a wrecker. So, let’s rock.” Shivering, I scurried to the driver’s side of the Camaro.

  Rowdy followed. “Need a tune up?”

  I leaned against the side of the car. “Thought you
’d never ask.”

  “Jonny, you gonna let Rowdy beat you before he even gets behind the wheel?” Caroline’s giggle floated above Jonny’s deeper chuckle.

  “Oh, no,” he assured her.

  Rowdy pulled me into his arms, lowering his head for a kiss. He kissed well, but the experience wasn’t the sensory tornado of kissing Cain—

  Jerking free, I realized where my mind had taken me.

  “Problem?” Rowdy asked.

  I shook my head. “No problem.” Taking his hand, I brought it to my breast. “Let’s see those rowdy moves you were bragging about.”

  He swept a thumb across my nipple. Closing my eyes, I let the memory of other nights spent here fill my head. Caroline moaned and I grew wet from the sound.

  Rowdy slid his hand underneath my shirt. Shoving his fingers beneath the elastic at my waist, he cupped my mound.

  “I think I’m gonna let you win when we race,” he muttered against my neck. “Just so I can watch you climb on this hood and spread those legs again.”

  “Oh, that can happen without you letting me do a damn thing.”

  He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me onto the side of the hood. Pushing my thighs open, he located the bundle of nerves at the top of my slit, massaging me through my yoga pants.

  “What about Caroline?” I murmured. “You gonna let her win, too?”

  “She’s about to get her little ass kicked. I’m looking forward to havin’ lipstick stains around the base of my cock.”

  Imagining his cock in Caroline’s mouth drove my arousal higher. I’d told Colt the truth. Every dirty little piece of this scene thrilled me. I caught a glimpse of Caroline through the windshields. She let her thighs fall open and I had the thought I always had whenever I saw her this way. It was a wordless thought, tied up with her sexual freedom and the price she paid for it, but the nebulous idea always grabbed me by the throat.