Fury 2: A Second Chance Romance

by Ward, Kira

  But Amanda going to stay with Mason and his family was certainly interesting. That meant that there would be some incredible eye candy around, and maybe, just maybe she would eventually get over her ex. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever make another move on the girl who blew me off in High School, but I guess it was just one more reason to give TITS a try.

  Chapter 11

  Amanda

  Caleb threw my second suitcase in his GT-R and closed the trunk.

  “Who were you staying with here?” he asked. “Didn’t you used to live in that big house around 17th street?”

  “That was a while back, before my parents got divorced. Now my mom lives in the complex here.”

  He nodded, and I was reminded of the time when he had picked Layla and I up and took us to The Bluffs for the first time. Back then, my mom and dad were still happily together.

  Caleb hopped behind the wheel, while I got in on the passenger side, closing the door.

  “Thanks again for the ride. My mom had work today, so she couldn’t take me. And cash is tight, so I didn’t want to waste money on a cab.”

  “Just a favor for my sister-in-law.” Caleb started the engine and the GT-R purred.

  “Fuck, that’s so weird,” I said.

  “That Layla is technically my sister now?”

  “Yeah, don’t you think?”

  “Very weird. Seems just like yesterday we sitting in the school parking lot, getting in trouble with Mr. Watson.”

  “Oh my god, your car was so awesome to us back then.”

  He laughed. “That RSX was my baby, but it was kind of pathetic in comparison with this one.” He revved the engine and the sound was so loud that it caused people at the apartment complex to look out their windows to see what was going on.

  “This thing is definitely on another level. Does it have a name like Mason’s car?”

  Caleb leaned back in his bucket seat and grabbed the wheel with both hands. “I haven’t really thought of name for her yet. Got any ideas?”

  I stroked my hair and pondered, but nothing came to mind. “What is the car good at? I mean other than waking the neighbors when you step on the gas.”

  “It’s good at taking fast turns, air pocketing, drifting, handbrake—”

  “There’s you go,” I interrupted. “That’s your name. You should call it Drifter.”

  Caleb nodded slowly, a bit of surprise in his eyes. “That’s a pretty good name. Suits her well, actually.” He stroked the dash and spoke to the car like it was alive. “What do you think? Drifter alright with you?”

  He stepped on the gas, and a couple revs made an approving roar.

  Caleb grinned. “Sounds like she likes it. I owe you one for that.” He put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Giving me a ride is good enough. But I suppose if you wanna really thank me, there is one thing you could do.”

  “What’s that?” Caleb lifted his eyebrows as he glanced at me.

  “Ummm… Let me drive Drifter?”

  “Oh hell no!” Caleb yelled and started chuckling. “I can’t let you drive my baby.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too dangerous. Too much power. Do you even know how to drive a stick?”

  I shrugged. “Sorta. I mean, it’s not that hard right?”

  “If you can’t drive a stick, you can’t drive… ahem,” he cleared throat and then patted the dash again with his hand, “Drifter.”

  I crossed my arms and pouted a little. I hadn’t expected that he’d actually let me drive, but I figured it was a worth a shot to ask. I needed some fun, after all. Sitting at my mom’s house the last couple weeks getting rejected for jobs hadn’t done much to keep my spirits up.

  Caleb looked over at me a couple times as he continued down the road. “You really want to drive a race car that bad?”

  “Yeah. Just for fun.”

  “Alright, I’ll tell you what. When we’re both in Miami, you can come to the tracks sometime when it’s not busy, and I’ll teach you how to drive a stick. Fair enough?”

  I grinned and lifted my elbow before throwing it back down. “Yes! Awesome.”

  We continued to the airport, Caleb and I chatting and laughing about old times and quirky things that happened back when we were in school. I kept glancing over to him, his eyes staring confidently at the road, his hand on the gear box the whole time, driving like the car was an extension of his body. He looked damn good in his tight, washed-out jeans and plain white T-shirt, and it was strange how the awkwardness from the last time we saw each other had suddenly slipped away.

  It was almost like we were still kind of friends, like Prom had never happened, like we hadn’t grown up and spent so many years away from each other.

  He helped me bring my luggage inside the airport, and right before he was about to leave, I couldn’t help but throw my arms around him and give him a hug. “Thanks, again,” I said.

  “No problem.”

  I could smell the shampoo on his hair, and it reminded me of the brief moment in time when we weren’t just friends, when we were a little bit more. It reminded me of the time when we had cuddled and made out at the races. It was an odd feeling, because I really liked Caleb at that time, and seeing him there, now only made me wonder how I could’ve not seen how great of a guy he was.

  Another guy might have called me a bitch and not wanted anything to do with me after my “pending” thing during Prom, even years after it happened, but there was Caleb, giving me a lift to the airport, helping me with my bags and even offering to give me driving lessons after we got to Miami.

  Caleb was a one-of-a-kind-guy—a badass with a heart of gold, and only my High School naivety couldn’t see that before.

  Chapter 12

  Caleb

  “Hey! Hey! Hey!” I yelled to the truck driver as he loaded the GT-R up on to the bed of his truck, right behind The Beast. “Pull the chain a little bit slower. If you fuck the suspension up, it’s your ass.”

  “Calm down dude,” the guy said. “I do this for a living. Your car will be okay.”

  I sat through the whole thing patiently, sweat practically pouring down my brow as Drifter was strapped down to the truck like a mental ward patient. The car was just going to be towed to Florida, but it felt like I was handing over my own child to an unknown babysitter for a few days. Who knew what could happen?

  I signed the man’s clipboard and gave him a hard stare. “Make sure she’s in Neutral when you take her off the lift. The transmission alone is probably worth your entire truck.”

  The man just laughed. “Don’t worry, mate. She’s in safe hands.”

  I gave him a quick nod and took a deep breath before turning to get in the taxi that was waiting to take me to the airport.

  It had been a couple days since I had last seen Amanda, but every-so-often, she would pop into my head. It was weird to say the least, because I usually gave no thought to girls unless it was that I wanted to find one for a one night stand. But she just kept flashing into my mind, both memories of us back in High School and the subtle memories that we had just recently created.

  I was a bit surprised when I sent her off at check-in and she threw her arms around me. It seemed more than one of those half-assed, friendly hugs. She lingered, held on, squeezing her voluptuous tits hard against my chest for more than a second or two. I walked out of LAX with a limp, because the unexpected hard-on she gave me pressed hard against the leg of my pants.

  I imagine that’s the way Mr. Watson felt that one day back in High School.

  But I still couldn’t read her. Maybe she was rebounding from her breakup and she just needed a little comfort. Maybe I was the only one who felt a bit of a rush when our bodies were close together.

  I checked in at the airport and boarded the plane back to Miami. I brought only my clothes, my laptop, phone, and my car. I left my condo in The OC virtually untouched, in case things didn’t work out there. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be in Florid
a or if I’d even like racing at TITS.

  The plan was to stay in a hotel until I was somewhat comfortable and then move into an apartment. But otherwise, I really had no idea what else I was going to do other than race.

  * * *

  “Cars are here. They’re dropping them off in front of TITS,” Mason said over the phone.

  It had been a couple days since I arrived in Miami, and I had spent the majority of my time in the hotel. I wasn’t a big fan of public transportation, so I held off on going out ‘til Drifter arrived.

  “Alright, I’ll be there in 15,” I groaned as I wiped sleep from my eyes. It was 8 in the morning, way earlier than I was used to waking up.

  I jumped in the shower and rinsed off before changing into a fresh pair of underwear, a t-shirt, and some jeans. I caught a taxi to the spray-painted billboard sign out in front of TITS and Mason was already there, watching with his arms crossed as the trucker worked to unload our cars.

  “Easy, easy…” he said as the wheels of The Beast touched down to the ground for the first time in days. He was apparently just as concerned about his machine as I was, although he held his concern in a little better that I did.

  “You ready to try this track out?” Mason asked, slapping me on the back.

  “Yeah, let’s do this. This is what I came here for.”

  Mason issued another slap on my back once our cars were fully unloaded and we jogged over towards our waiting vehicles. He hopped in The Beast while I hopped into Drifter, and we started them up almost simultaneously.

  The sound of both cars were powerful, The Beast issuing a classic Hemi growl, while Drifter’s roar had the more modern sound of a heavily tuned turbo car. It was then that I realized that it was the first time that I had sat beside Mason in a car that rivaled his own. Since I had gotten Drifter, he had never raced me, and since the accident at The Bluffs, he had only brought The Beast out a few times.

  Mason led the way down the wooded path, past the parking lot and onto the winding track at TITS. There were no cars in the parking lot and no one on the track, though I did see a man walking around the seating area picking up trash from the races from the night before. Mason waited at the starting line for me to pull up beside him, and once I stopped at the line, he rolled down his window.

  “Let’s just take it easy for our first time around the track. Get the know the ins and outs before we push things too hard.”

  “Alright let’s go!” I yelled.

  Mason and I both rolled our windows up and Mason held out a hand, displaying 1 finger, 2, and then 3 to signal for us to start.

  I pressed on the gas and felt the rubber of my tires grip onto the track below, launching me off the starting line significantly faster than Mason. Only a few yards ahead was a quick left turn, which was easy to make, but I made a mental note that it may be more difficult on a 2nd or 3rd lap if our cars were brought up to full speed.

  The track continued whipping around, two or three more turns before there was a long straightaway that extended a good half mile or so. I had been focusing on memorizing the intricacies of the track, the wideness of the curves and making note of any slippery spots, that I had almost forgotten that Mason was somewhere behind me.

  He caught up fast on the straightaway, and before long he was driving right beside me, the sound of The Beast almost overpowering Drifter as he pushed his car hard. He looked over and smiled at me as he passed, and I raised my chin at him. He wasn’t pushing as hard as he could, and neither was I, but I was going fast enough that I knew that I would catch back up at the next one or two turns.

  He slowed down fast and hard, perhaps misjudging the sharpness of the first turn of the straightaway when he tried to take it, and his tires squealed a bit. I took that turn wider than he did, and the GT-R easily took the turn and I reclaimed the lead as Mason reaccelerated. I made a note that it would be a good turn to drift on, and pushed forward into a flurry of curves that swirled from left to right ahead of me.

  I knew Mason and I weren’t really racing, but it felt good to be ahead of him, and I was starting to understand why he thought that this track was perfect for my car. The track was clean, allowing me to get a great grip on the road, unlike the half paved/half unpaved track at the Bluffs. There were also a lot more meticulous turns on the track, which I could cut through like butter, even if I didn’t try to drift.

  After the final flurry of turns was another straightaway which led back to the finishing line, and as I pushed harder on to the gas, I noticed Yosef had appeared by the railing, leaning over, watching us drive.

  Mason and I zoomed past the finishing line and continued zipping around the track, learning every intricacy, until I was almost out of gas. Once the near-empty light came on, I slowed and parked at the finish line. Mason pulled right up behind me.

  “Woooo!” Mason yelled as he hopped out of The Beast and started walking towards me.

  “How was it running her again?!” I asked loudly.

  Mason slammed his chest up against me, and we gripped each other in a quick, tight hug.

  “No thrill like it, Caleb.” He scanned out to the track. “And this place is pretty fucking awesome.”

  “Yeah, and Drifter… She felt really good out there.”

  “Drifter?” Mason asked.

  “The GT-R. It was Amanda’s idea. I thought it was a pretty good name.”

  “A damn good name.”

  “A damn good name indeed!” Yosef yelled, interrupting us as he approached. “You guys burned it up out there.”

  We both nodded and smiled.

  “So I guess I’ve got both of you racing for me out here then?” Yosef asked.

  Mason put his hands on his hips. “Nah. I just came out here for some fun with my brother. I’m sure you saw how hard he raced.”

  “Well, that’s a shame,” Yosef said. “That Challenger you have is quite the vehicle.” Yosef turned to me. “But the GT-R was on fire. I can’t wait to see you in a real race. Both of you ran that last lap in near record time.”

  “Near record time?” I puffed my chest out a little. “Well, just give me a little more time to acquaint myself with the track, and I’ll be ready to start racing.”

  “Okay, well right now we run our main races on Wednesday and Saturday nights, aside from ad-hoc races here and there. Just show up to race whenever you’re ready.” Yosef reached out and shook both our hands before turning around and heading off.

  Mason inhaled hard between his teeth. “Well, I’m sure you’re happy to have your car back in your hands.”

  “Damn right.”

  “What are you going to do today?”

  “My arms are killing me after all that racing. I might just drive around and check out a little bit of Miami. Not much really.”

  “Alright, well I’m going to go park The Beast in the garage where The Mod Shop is still being set up. We should be ready to open doors in 2-3 more weeks once the parts come in. Oh and Layla is cooking dinner tonight 7pm. If you have time, you should stop by.”

  I nodded. “A home cooked meal, huh?”

  “Layla is a damned good cook too.” Mason gripped me on the shoulder. “It’s amazing having a woman who can cook like she does.”

  “Yeah?” I threw him a light punch to the chest. “You’re starting to sound like a cheeseball.”

  Mason laughed. “You know, you should find yourself someone like her. All the sex in the world can’t compare to a wife’s home cooking.”

  Chapter 13

  Amanda

  “Ow! Fuck!” I jerked my hand back from the pot of mashed potatoes.

  “Did you burn yourself again?” Layla asked.

  “Yeah, for the fucking fifth time already! I fucking hate cooking!”

  “But you fucking love saying fuck, don’t you?”

  “Fuck you, bitch,” I said as I bit down on my stinging finger.

  Layla laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it. You really didn’t cook the whole time you were with
Rick?”

  “We ordered food every day or went out to eat. And when I lived at home, my mom took care of everything.”

  Layla pressed a finger hard against my nose. “Well, aren’t you a spoiled little princess.”

  “Mommy! I’m hungyyyyy!” Travis gripped on to Layla’s leg.

  “Mason!” Layla called out. “Can you please keep Travis occupied while we’re cooking?”

  “Yes, babe!” Mason yelled back from another room. Within moments he was in the kitchen, swooping Travis up in his arms and planting a light kiss on Layla’s lips. “You want to go play with your cars buddy?”

  “Yeahhhh!” Travis yelled.

  “We’ll be done in about 15 minutes,” Layla assured him.

  It was adorable how their family was, or at least what I had witnessed after staying with them the past few days. It was the type of relationship that I could only dream about. But it also scared and amazed me how Layla managed to hold the family together through all the chaos. She cooked, cleaned, kept Travis under control and managed to keep her man sexually satisfied when the nighttime rolled around.

  It didn’t seem to wear her down one bit. She loved it, actually.

  I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be cut out for it all, hence why I had asked her to teach me how to cook, so I could at least start somewhere. And so far, it was a bit overwhelming.

  “Can you cut the roast beef?” Layla asked.

  I turned and eyed the heaping pile of meat that we had pulled out of the oven earlier. It was all covered in foil, like some sort of alien science experiment. I shrugged. “I can try.”

  Layla laughed. “Just get the knife out of the drawer and start slicing. Pretend you’re cutting Rick’s balls off or something. Just make sure to cut it thin. People usually like it kind of thin.”

  “Okay… I got this.” I reached for the knife in the drawer, peeled the foil off the top of the meat, and a giant puff of steam rushed up into my face. “Oh my god, this smells wonderful.”