by Ward, Kira
“Better to see me getting roughed up rather than the groom right?”
Mason chuckled. “I doubt he could’ve roughed you up, but you handled it well. Now,” he said as he brushed invisible dust off my shoulder, “if you could just apply those adult skills to other parts of your life.”
“Such as?”
“Such as showing up on time.” He smirked.
“Mason, I said I’m—”
“I’m just kidding, Caleb. It’s no big deal. What’s been happening back in Cali since I’ve been gone. Have you been racing?”
“Yeah…” I suddenly felt like I needed some wine.
“Yeah, and?”
I sighed and tilted my head. “Didn’t do too well my last race…”
“Didn’t do too well? Oh fuck. Don’t tell me you’ve been racing pinks again, Caleb.”
“No, I haven’t been racing pinks.”
“Then what? You lost a few hundred dollars? A few practice races? What?”
“The last night I was at The Bluffs, I lost 20k.”
“What?!” Mason shrieked and grabbed me hard by the arm, pulling me further away from the guests. “How the hell did you lose 20k?”
“I bet 10k on myself twice. Lost both races.”
“For fuck’s sake, Caleb. Why? 20k is a lot of money.”
“I thought I would win. It just felt right.”
“So then you were on a winning streak? And you offset the money with other wins, right?”
“No and no…”
Mason huffed and smirked. “Look, I know you think you’re a good racer. And you are—you’re a damn good racer. But you need to learn how to hold yourself back. Don’t be betting that kind of cash unless you are 100% sure you’re going to win.”
“Easy for you to say, Mason Greene.” I tilted my head in embarrassment.
“Hey,” Mason snapped. “I started slow… I worked my way to the top by taking baby steps and I learned on the way. You, on the other hand, got to where you were in giant leaps. Do you know how many people would kill to have the GT-R?”
I nodded. His words were making a lot of sense.
“So you need to learn how to control yourself. If you don’t, you’re not going to just empty your bank account, but you’ll lose your fucking car. I can’t bail you out every time you fuck up.”
“I don’t want you to, Mason.”
Mason huffed again. “Look. Travis’s sitter has some family issues, so Layla and I aren’t going to set off to our honeymoon for a couple days. Before you go back to California, I want you to show you a couple things. Can you stick around tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Alright. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning.” Mason patted me on the shoulder before walking back towards Layla and Amanda. “Next time be on time.”
Chapter 7
Amanda
I felt paralyzed. I sat in my seat, watching all the guests hugging and patting each other on the shoulders as they slowly filed away from the wedding reception. Things were wrapping up, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
The tears had stopped flowing, but inside I was dead. I couldn’t count the number of times that I had played out my future with Rick in my head, but now I didn’t want anything to do with him. Going from one end of the spectrum to the other in an instant was hard for me to bear.
“Cheer up babe,” Layla said, seeming to appear out of nowhere. “I want you to be happy on my special day.”
“I’m happy for you,” I said. “Just not so happy for myself.”
Layla pulled a chair up in front of me and sat down. She reached forward and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Amanda, you’re gorgeous. That old Rick doesn’t know what he’s missing. You can find a guy better than him easily.”
I just took a deep breath, unsure what to say. I could only hope she was right.
Mason and Caleb approached from behind Layla.
“Hey baby,” Mason said and leaned down to kiss his new wife. “Ready to wrap things up and head out?”
Layla nodded and then turned to me. “Are you going to go back to your hotel?”
“No, I’m not going anywhere near Rick,” I spat.
“What about your stuff?” Layla asked.
“I have my ID in my purse here. I just left clothes in the hotel really. If I need anything else, I’ll just buy it.”
“Well, where are you going to stay?” Layla asked. She glanced back and bit her lip when she made eye contact with Mason. “I’d invite you to come stay with us, but we kinda need to consummate the marriage.”
I giggled a bit, the cuteness of my best friend lifting the mood a little. “I’ll just find another hotel room somewhere.”
“The hotel I’m staying in is pretty nice,” Caleb said. He was holding a wine glass and lifted it to his lips, pouring it in his mouth like water.
“How much and how far?” I asked.
“About a 15-minute drive. 50 bucks per night, give or take… We can share a cab if you’d like.”
I was surprised at Caleb’s generous offer. I wasn’t sure if he still held any resentment from the fact that I didn’t go to the Prom with him after we made out in High School, but I definitely didn’t expect that he would go out of his way to be so kind to me. Apparently, the Prom thing didn’t bother him after all.
“Yeah, sure. I guess I’ll stay there.”
I said my goodbyes to Layla and her little family before Caleb and I jumped into a cab headed for the hotel. The cab ride was a little bit awkward, neither of us saying much as the car rolled down the highway.
“You know, it’s cool,” Caleb finally said after a long period of silence.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Back in High School. When… you know?”
“Are you talking about the night you asked me to Prom?”
“Yeah,” Caleb shrugged. “I just don’t want things to be awkward because of that.”
“I’m really sorry about—”
“No, no. Don’t worry,” Caleb interrupted. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
I sighed and fiddled with my hair. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I wish that I had gone to prom with you instead of Russell.”
Caleb pressed his head back and threw me a confused look. “Yeah? Why is that? I saw you and Russell basically freak dancing on the dance floor.”
I laughed. “Yeah, well you and your little freshmen had your tongues down each other’s throats. And, I don’t know. Russell and I hardly talked after Prom. Maybe you and I would’ve at least stayed friends if we had gone together.”
Caleb shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What happened to the girl you went with?”
“Hardly talked after prom.”
“Oh…” I said. “Maybe things wouldn’t have been different after all.”
He shrugged again. “Doesn’t really matter. It was a long time ago.”
There was another long, awkward silence before I spoke up again. “Thanks again for today. For stopping that fight.”
“Sure, no problem. That guy is your boyfriend, huh?”
“Was my boyfriend.”
Caleb chuckled. “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“I mean, you know you’re beautiful, right? You could’ve chosen some Rico Suave, a rock star, anybody. But you ended up with that guy? No offense, but how old is he?”
“43 or 44…”
“Forty-fuckin-four? You must be kidding me. No offense, but you know it looks a little—”
“It’s unconventional. I know. An everyone thought I was with him just for his money, but it wasn’t like that. When we met, he treated me like a princess, and I liked that. He was always good to me, better than any man who had come before him. It’s not always about looks or age, Caleb. We were good together.”
“Didn’t look so good at the wedding.”
“Yeah, well it was only recently that he started treating me like I was some sort of
property of his rather than his girlfriend. I don’t know what happened. Maybe he finally got too comfortable.”
“Well,” Caleb turned his head and scanned me up and down, “he’s an idiot. He’ll probably never get a girl like you again.”
That made me smile a little.
The taxi came to a halt outside a tall 3 or 4 star hotel, a tall yellow building with neatly landscaped bushes circling all around. It didn’t look the kind of place Rick and I had booked, but it looked like it would command a charge greater than $50 per night.
Caleb opened his door and got out, then offered his hand to help me out as well. We probably looked a little comical, me wearing my peach fluffy dress and him wearing a tux.
“Thanks,” I said when we got out.
Caleb led the way to the check in counter and hung around to make sure everything went okay while I spoke to the receptionist.
“I’d like a room for the night, please.”
“Sure thing. Do you want smoking or non-smoking?” a dark-skinned lady with a bright smile asked.
“Non-smoking would be great thanks.”
The lady stared at her computer screen and tapped furiously. “I’ll need your ID.”
I pulled my ID out of my purse and handed it to her.
As she was grabbing it, her eyes lingered on my dress. “What’s the occasion?”
“Wedding.”
“Oh,” she cooed. “Well, I hope everything went okay.” She glanced at me suggestively and then made an invisible trail of tears, slowly sliding her fingertip from the corner of her eye down the side of her cheek.
“Oh shit,” I moaned. “My make-up is all over the place, huh?”
“Yeah, darling.”
I shrugged and sarcastically shook my head as I lied. “I was just so damn happy at the wedding!”
The receptionist laughed and handed me back my ID. “Okay, well the charge is $49.99 for the night. Will you be paying cash or credit card?”
“Credit,” I said as I pulled my VISA out of my purse.
The attendant took my VISA and slid it through the card reader.
BEEP
Her brow creased, looking a bit perplexed before she slid it through the card reader again.
BEEP
“Umm, I’m sorry darling, but this card is getting declined. Do you have another method of payment?”
“Declined? No way. We always pay our bill on time.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t force it through.”
Caleb slid up to the counter beside me. “What’s wrong?”
“My card isn’t going through.” I held my hand up to the receptionist as I reached for the phone. “Give me a minute while I call my bank to see what’s going on.”
After going through a series of annoying menus in order to speak to a live human being, I finally got someone.
“And who am I speaking with?” the person on the phone asked.
“Amanda Fox.”
“I’m sorry, Amanda. It appears you were removed as an authorized user of this card right before the card was cancelled. I’m afraid I can’t help you or give you any more information on this account.”
My jaw hit the floor. It was technically Rick’s card, but he knew I used it to purchase everything. He knew that it was the only method of payment I had on me besides a small amount of spare change. He knew that if he shut the card down, it would put me in a bad situation.
I wanted to cry again as I clicked the power off on my phone. My chin tensed up and I stared forward, trying to get control of myself, trying to fight back the tears.
“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”
“Rick cancelled my card. He knew I didn’t have any other money on me.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Caleb cried. “What a fuckin’ asshole.” He immediately reached for his pocket and pulled out a $100 bill from his wallet, slapping it down on the check-in counter. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover the cost of your room.”
Tears had already started to fall, but I wasn’t in full-on wail mode yet. The gravity of the situation was just hitting. I had a round-trip ticket back to California, which hopefully Rick hadn’t cancelled as well, but I wouldn’t even have money for the cab ride to the airport or the ride from LAX to wherever I would need to go when I got off the plane. I had been with Rick so long that I had grown dependent on him.
It was a fucked up situation.
“Relax,” Caleb said, patting me on the back. “It’ll all work out.”
“Thank you,” I muttered silently.
“Here ya go,” The receptionist said, handing me the key to my room and giving Caleb back the change. “You’ll be in room 101, which is just adjacent to your friend’s room in 102.”
I nodded, took the key, and we both headed towards the elevator.
Going up, one-half of my brain was shutting down, going berserk with disappointment, sadness and fear. The other half of my brain was already trying to formulate a plan as to what I would do next. I’d call my mom in the morning to let her know what happened. I had approximately $19 in my purse which would probably cover the cab ride to the airport, and if my mom wasn’t in her usual depressive mode, she’d answer when I rang and pick me up at the airport.
I was so overwhelmed that I hardly noticed the tall, ridiculously handsome man that was walking beside me. The one who had just rescued me from spending a night sleeping on the streets alone.
Chapter 8
Caleb
I stood under the shower head, the water purposely cold to calm the heat pulsing through my body. Seeing Amanda and spending a few minutes with her had rekindled a little bit of the lust that I had when I was in high school. When we were sitting in the cab, her breasts were threatening to fall out of her dress at any moment, and I could almost taste her kisses from so many years ago.
It was just childhood lust back then, so why was it making me feel that way?
Maybe it was because she was the most gorgeous creature I’d ever seen, or maybe it was because of the way she sat there, devastated, vulnerable, crying. She was such a fragile, beautiful little girl, and I wanted nothing more than to scoop her into my arms and comfort her.
I had paid for her room when we got to the hotel, and when we arrived at her hotel room door, I just said, “Let me know if you need anything.”
She said she was okay and that she was sure she was covered ‘til California, and her mom would take it from there.
It wasn’t ‘til I was getting ready to take a shower that I realized that she only had that big puffy dress and none of her luggage. I took it upon myself to bring her a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, so she’d have something to wear on the plane. When I knocked on her door and she answered, she was still wearing the same dress, still sporting melted makeup on her face, but damn… she still looked amazing.
I would’ve loved to have pushed her back inside her room and ripped that ugly dress off. I would’ve thrown her on her bed and fucked her so hard that she’d forget about that asshole from the wedding for good. I would’ve shown her what a real man is like. I would’ve pinned her legs back and watched those big tits bounce for me until I sprayed—
Fuck!
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize I was tugging on my cock in the shower and about to come. I needed to relax and get my head on straight. Truth is, she just thanked me for the clothes, and then I went back to my room like any other guy would’ve.
I couldn’t win her back in the day—when she was the high school princess. Now she was older and arguably more beautiful, and she had a new type—old and rich, apparently. I made good money at the track, but I wasn’t a millionaire. Not to mention, girls generally set themselves to off-limits for a while after a hard break up.
Forget about it, I thought. We’d probably never see each other again after going back to California.
Enough things had happened recently to fuck with my self-esteem. I didn’t n
eed a double heartbreaker from some girl to make things worse.
* * *
The next morning, the cab driver dropped me off in front of a Billboard that was spray painted sloppily in bold letters “TITS”.
“I guess this is it,” I said and hopped out, wondering if I was actually right. My brother had given instructions for me to stop at the sign and follow the small wooded road for a few hundred feet until I reached a clearing. It might have made me suspicious if I didn’t hear the faint purr of engines lingering in the background.
I had dealt with cars long enough to know that those weren’t the engine sounds of normal cars either. They were race cars, and Mason apparently intended to show me something about racing. That got me interested.
I walked swiftly down the road, and just as he had indicated, I reached a large clearing that opened to a huge parking lot, which would easily fit a few hundred cars, and the beginning of a long track that whipped around for miles. It looked like something I would see at a Nascar race, but grittier, a little less polished. On the opposite side was a drag strip that reminded me of the one at the Bluffs, but this one had more professional looking bench seating.
It was pretty obvious where I should go, as there were only a few cars parked in the lot and a couple of guys leaning against a rail, watching some cars racing on the winding track. One of them was Mason.
“Right on time,” Mason said, glancing at his watch as I approached.
“TITS?” I asked.
Mason laughed.
“This Is The Street… aka TITS!” the older gentleman he was with blurted out with a smirk. “The pride and joy of Miami.”
I raised an eyebrow at Mason. The bald guy was wearing an all-white suit with matching white, leather shoes, like he had just stepped off the set of Weekend at Bernie’s. I wasn’t sure if I should take him seriously or not.
“This is Miami’s equivalent to The Bluffs back home.” Mason said. “The thing is, it’s 100% legal street racing here.”
“Legal?” I chuckled. “If it’s legal, then it’s not street.”