Turn and Burn

by Eden Connor

  “Okay, turn around.”

  I whirled—too fast. I had to blink several times for the room to stop spinning.

  “What are you doing?” I gaped at the sight of Robert on his knees, wearing only his boxers. He held a small box on his palm.

  “Shelby, I knew I loved you on our second date. I don’t want graduation to come between what we have. I’ve never met anyone like you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Chapter Three

  I stared into Robert’s baby blues, but in my head, I imagined Colt’s cobalt eyes narrowed in jealousy while I showed off the engagement ring tonight.

  Yeah, right.

  And will I show off Robert, too?

  Assuming I do that, how long until someone from Concord tells him or his big shot daddy that my stepbrothers whored me out when I was in high school?

  Not happening.

  No matter how I felt about the guy on his knees, the moment should’ve been between Robert and me. He might not be the man I thought I deserved, but he’d put his heart out there. That entitled him to more consideration than I could give this momentous question. Thanks to my fucking stepbrothers.

  Way to go, guys. Every relationship I’ve ever had since I laid eyes on you two is fucked up.

  I dropped my gaze to the box, mostly because I couldn’t take looking at Robert’s face one more second. The emerald-cut was modest, perhaps a third of a carat, and set in a plain platinum, four-prong mounting.

  Just like the one Dale bought Mom. Maybe they’re the prize in some cereal box?

  “Get up,” I choked. “Get up right now.”

  “Shelby, I—”

  “Stop it! Just stop it. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t know me!” I wrenched the doorknob that was still in my hand. Because running was what I did best, I always had an exit strategy.

  “Shelby—”

  “If you say my name one more time, I’ll scream. We don’t belong together, Robert. Jesus, you never do anything but complain about my choices, and you know what? I’ve made some bad ones. Go find a nice girl who’ll fit into your country club future.”

  I raced out of the apartment. Sunlight stabbed my eyes, but if I’d left my sunglasses, I wasn’t going back. Ever.

  I didn’t want to think about my latest relationship failure, or the upcoming party, so my thoughts returned to the news clip. Four million dollars. I doubted my—my stepfather’s—‘Cuda would sell for so much, but then again, the Hannahs could probably do any needed restoration to put the car in showroom condition.

  If everything went as planned tonight, I’d get in a swipe at my stepbrothers, but this party had given me many anxious moments in the last month. If I started stressing over tonight, on top of what I’d just been through, I’d call the whole thing off. And that would only lead to a larger gulf between my mother and me. One reason I’d given in to Harry’s idea was that Colt and Caine had enjoyed whatever benefit they gleaned from having two parents, while I’d made do with none. My choice, admittedly, but... it was time to turn and burn.

  I hung a left out of the lot and roared away.

  I hadn’t gotten far when my cell phone rang. The ringtone told me who the caller was. I could ignore my mother, but I always took my stepfather’s calls. Dale didn’t call often, and when he did, he never talked long.

  “Listen, Shelby, I’m gonna get you a nice car for graduation. Any idea what you might like?”

  I pressed the gas, letting the old Plymouth run a bit on the curving side road. Four years ago, I’d have danced naked in the street with joy at this announcement. Now, I felt a twinge of sadness.

  “Someone made you an offer for the ‘Cuda, didn’t they?”

  “Fella’s been after me to sell it. This morning, he got his heart in the right place. I’m thinkin’ I might take his money, if he’ll throw in the cost of the new rubber I just bought for it. Don’t worry none, them tires ain’t your Christmas present.”

  My heart thudded while he laughed “You know about the auction last night?”

  “Yep.”

  I hated the vintage convertible some days. The car was loud and old—just two more things to set me apart from the wealthy girls at my school. Moreover, it functioned as a one-ton ball and chain that kept me tied, in a sense, to Colt and Caine. The car had never been mine, but I was stunned to find myself blinking back tears.

  Mom was always fussing because I wouldn’t take things from Dale. I wanted to turn this offer down, too, but if he sold the ‘Cuda... I didn’t have credit, or a big down payment. I pictured a little old man rubbing his hands with glee when I stepped on some buy-here-pay-here lot. While Dale, on the other hand, could buy the same car for half price and with the savings, fix it up to be reliable. I’ll pay him back somehow.

  “Anything’s fine, really. Another convertible would be nice.”

  His laughter rang in my ear. I pictured him, tipped back in his recliner. He probably had a new lounge chair in the new place, but he’d have one. I was sure the recliner and a huge television was all he gave a damn about, actually. He’d given Mom free reign with the rest of the furnishings. Mom didn’t want Dale’s NASCAR memorabilia in the new place, so he and the boys had built a garage out back of the old house for all that stuff.

  “Girl, every manufacturer has a convertible in their lineup, so that ain’t much help. But I was thinkin’. We could go kick some tires while you’re home for the holidays. Hell, I’ll spot you forty grand if you’ll save me from following Macy around at those damn after-Christmas sales.”

  He was trying to entice me to stay an extra day. He didn’t know I’d be there tonight, but Mom knew. She and the team owner’s wife were tight, so I figured if I didn’t tell her, Doris Ridenhour would.

  I’d had Harry schedule me to work the evening shift on the 25th, to have an excuse to leave. It made no sense to drive up to Concord tonight, drive back here tonight after the party, only to go back to Concord on the 24th, so I planned to stay three days, longer than I’d ever spent under Dale’s roof since starting college. Adding a day, even for Dale, was out of the question.

  But I blinked. Forty thousand dollars? “Wow, I didn’t realize you meant a new car.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you are givin’ up a four million dollar ride, sweetheart. Listen, I know it’s a few months away, but I already told my team they’re runnin’ without me on Memorial Day.”

  Dale Hannah didn’t take a weekend off. Not ever. If Mom wanted to see her husband during NASCAR’s nine-month season, she put her ass in a motor home and went with him, or he bought her a plane ticket and she flew to wherever the race was being held.

  “What? But, who’s gonna fix the cars if—”

  “Not a problem, if you ask the little prick driving car number twenty-two,” Dale muttered.

  According to Mom, Dale and the driver on the cardboard standup that got me into this mess had gone head to head a few times, over the way Kolby Barnes treated the racecar Dale worked so hard to perfect and keep running over the course of a grueling season. Kolby, in turn, had made some noise in the media, implying that Dale’s lack of an engineering degree was the reason he couldn’t win more races.

  Could Ridenhour Motorsports’ new superstar raise enough hell to have Dale replaced? The dull thud in my chest said yes. I felt like shit for being blind to that possibility. I wouldn’t have felt right about letting my stepfather buy me a new car, but if Dale was on thin ice at work, I wasn’t even tempted.

  Would his boss be honoring him tonight if he wasn’t going to renew Dale’s contract next season? Or did Dale already know he was out of a job? Was that why he was selling the Barracuda?

  Get real. He’s selling it because Mom wants pretties for her new house. Duh.

  “I told Richard, we run every weekend. Have for a quarter of a century. But my daughter graduatin’ college? That’s a once in a lifetime event. I’m so goddamn proud of you, honey, it’s a wonder I can button my shirt. We’ll all be there, swee
theart.”

  Tears stung my eyes, but at the same time, my heart seized. Surely, he didn’t mean Colt and Caine were coming to my graduation? Wasn’t it bad enough I’d have to endure them over Christmas? Dale’s tone sounded an awful lot like the one he’d used the night he explained to his sons that I’d be driving the ‘Cuda. No room for argument.

  A lot could happen in five months. Maybe Colt and Caine would fall into a burning pit. Maybe I could kick them into the hole and strike the match.

  “See you in a couple days. Shelby, I love you, sweetheart.”

  He’d never said that to me before.

  “Love you, too,” I blurted. I disconnected and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, struggling not to break down and have an ugly cry. With my next breath, resentment ripped through me.

  How close could Dale and I have become if Colt and Caine hadn’t set out to break me? How fair was it that they got a mother in my mom, but I got nothing?

  All I’d ever wanted was a father who loved me. If not for Colt and Caine, I might be able to actually enjoy my relationship with Dale. Instead, whenever he’d drop by my school on his way to some race, I felt like I was sneaking around with my stepfather.

  But, outrage was exactly what I needed to get in the right frame of mind for tonight.

  I had nothing to do and at least another hour to kill before the mall opened so I could buy a dress for the party. I had a new key to Harry’s place, but it would be three hours before it was safe to wake him. Besides, sitting around felt dangerous. The last place I needed to be was alone inside my own head.

  Oh, yeah. I knew the ideal spot to fan the flames of my hatred for Colt and Caine.

  Chapter Four

  Myriad convenience stores and fast food joints occupied the land around Hearon Circle, a roundabout beneath a bridge under I-85, where multiple roads came together. Bright signs filled the sky, competing for attention. No one had said the phrase ‘gas or ass’ to me in four years, but it bounced around inside my skull like a marble. My insides started to jerk.

  Why had I let Harry talk me into this? Assuming I survived tonight, there was Christmas Day to be faced, not to mention the family portrait Mom had an appointment to have made tomorrow.

  Just a little lie to hang over her new living room mantle.

  A horn sounded behind me. With a start, I eased onto the traffic circle. At the halfway point, I got off where the four-lane picked up again. I kept under the speed limit and scanned the right hand side of the road. I passed a motel, a church, a junkyard, and a Harley shop. Was this the right road? I’d had no reason to come this way in four years, so maybe I’d forgotten how far the building sat off the roundabout? Okay, so I avoided coming this way.

  If this was the right road, I’d gone too far. I turned around and doubled back, unsure why I didn’t just hit the gas and go to the mall.

  It was right across from a big commercial bakery. When I spied the brick factory, I slowed to crawl, despite irritated drivers who honked their horns.

  The old bread store was gone. The spot was now a parking lot for a new motel. The asphalt wasn’t spotted with oil and the yellow lines marking the parking spaces were unblemished. The sign advertised low prices on extended stays, but a smaller sign underneath said the motel would open in February. The Dumpster overflowed with construction waste.

  On impulse, I wheeled into the empty lot and parked across the yellow lines, because these spaces were painted parallel to the road, but the ones in my mind had been perpendicular. When I thought I was in the same spot where I’d given the hand job that had paid my way here, I turned off the engine and set the brake.

  Forcing my fingers out of their death grip, I used the hem of my shirt to wipe my sweat off the steering wheel. I took deep breaths, but the shakes persisted.

  I closed my eyes and recalled how the stranger’s cock had felt in my hand. I could still hear the guy’s ragged breathing as I jacked him off. I even recalled how warm his cum had been when it coated my fingers, but I couldn’t remember his name, only that he’d been a redhead.

  I’d gotten out of his old Jeep determined to make a new life far from my mother and her new family, but every time I looked up, the Hannah brothers were right there in my rearview mirror. I’d expected Mom’s marriage to fall apart as fast as her other relationships, but it sure looked like she’d finally found a bad boy who loved her. Colt and Caine weren’t going to disappear from my life.

  A cloud shifted and a ray of sunlight pierced the windshield, but in my mind, it was past midnight. I stared at the ‘Cuda’s hood, feeling the thrusts of a guy whose face I couldn’t see inside me. My stepbrother’s faces were as clear as the instrument panel. I could almost feel their hot breath on my cheeks.

  My nipples hardened. My blood beat a rapid tattoo between my thighs. I needed to be fucked. And I hated myself for that need.

  Trying to take a deep breath, I unlatched the safety harness, but relieving the pressure on my clit didn’t stop the ache. I fiddled with the metal tongue on the zipper of my jeans.

  The tequila fog lifted and I replayed every miserable minute of the night before. Robert had spent about five minutes massaging my clit with his hand down my pants before he moved along to a couple of minutes of unenthusiastic oral.

  Some guys don’t like eatin’ cat, so they’ll race to win. For the blowjob, see?

  “Shut up.” I gripped the wheel again, wondering what the hell I’d thought I’d find here.

  Tell your big brother what you want him to do to you.

  I want my big brother to put his finger in my ass.

  All the dirty things Colt had forced me to say swirled in my brain. How could I have been so besotted that I’d ever thought that shit was right? I’d cut my own throat before I said anything like that to a guy like Robert. I had no trouble imagining the disgusted look in his eyes if I ever let my needs slip.

  Visions tumbled over one another. Me on Colt’s lap, freshly spanked, while he held my legs over my head so Caine could fuck me.

  Me, hopping onto the warm hood of the Barracuda. Colt and Caine spreading me wide so some guy I’d just beaten in a drag race could pay the price for losing while other guys watched and jeered.

  And none of that was the bad part.

  Hard as it was to admit, if Colt had never told me he took money from those guys to fuck me, I’d be excited about heading to Concord today, knowing more of the same could be arranged if I wanted.

  Group sex, public sex, dual penetration sex with two hot guys who just happened to be the sons of the man my mother married—I’d enjoyed the hell out of all of it.

  Enjoyed it so much that normal sex just didn’t do anything for me. I was aroused from just thinking about all the things they’d made me do, but the thing that scared me—the thing I could never tell anyone—was that no guy had ever given me an honest-to-God orgasm since my hot summer nights with Colt and Caine. I was so damn tired of faking it.

  I was still the fucking freak my stepbrothers had created.

  And tonight, I had to face them and make them think all was fine. I knew those two. In order to make them believe I held no grudges, I might have to fuck them.

  My clit gave an extra-hard throb. I squeezed my thighs together.

  I can’t do that. Anything but that.

  A knock on the hood jerked me from my introspection. I lifted my head and met a narrowed pair of black eyes. Black hair stood out around the stranger’s head as if the glossy strands contained too much life to lie still. Golden skin peeked from the open collar of his button-down white shirt, but sleeves rolled to the elbow enticed me to follow corded forearms to his hands. My heart jerked when I noted his fingertips had the stains of a mechanic.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  I bristled, but rolled the window down. “Don’t I look okay?”

  “Chill, Shelby.” I opened my mouth to ask how he knew me, but he cut me off. “Oh, yeah, I’m a fan of your You Tube site, not a stalker. But, it’s just tha
t most people park inside the lines.”

  Everybody thinks they know me, but no one does.

  His smile was sudden and made him very handsome. “But something tells me you drove your kindergarten teacher nuts because you never even acknowledged there were any lines, didja?”

  See? All I know are lines. Don’t cross this one, don’t step over that one. You’ve had sex with more then three guys? Go to the end of the line, slut. Your car’s more than two model years old? Get out of the chow line, you pathetic hardship case, and grab an apron. Your job is to serve us rich kids.

  I turned to stare at the empty lot. “Only sheeple park inside the lines when the place is empty. What difference does it make?”

  “Can I say something that might piss you off?”

  I cut my eyes back to his face. “The real question is, can you say something that doesn’t?”

  He leaned down and rested his arms along the edge of the door. “You’re with the wrong guy.” I just lifted a brow. “I say that because your car has a parking sticker for Converse College. But, less than an hour ago, I saw it parked outside one of the male dorms at Wofford. So,”—he shrugged—“no-brainer, you slept over with your boyfriend. But he should’ve thrown you against the wall and fucked you senseless before he let you out the door.”

  “How do you know he didn’t?”

  “Easy. If he had, you’d be mellow. Not biting my head off.”

  “How would you fuck me?” The question was out before I knew it.

  His smile had the right touch of arrogance. “I’d tell you, but your car has a parking sticker for Converse College. Anglo-Saxon, ivory tower princesses like you don’t want a man who’d throw her down, fuck her senseless, then call his boyfriend to take his turn, just so he could keep hearing her little cries of pleasure.”

  My stomach took a leap that had nothing to do with last night’s tequila. A freak. Like me.