Clutch (Custom Culture) (11 page)

I pulled my arm from his grasp. “I was out with Gus, and you’re the idiot who told him about the races.”

“Yeah, and I specifically told him not to bring you because you hated the drag races. Jimmy is over in the pits, and he’ll have my head when he finds out that you are hanging with Gus. He’ll have your pretty head too.” He combed his hair back again. “Not to mention that Jason will string me up from the rafters. It took my brother a week to convince him to let me work at the shop, and now I’m going to be looking for a job again all because of you.”

I smacked him hard on the shoulder. “Up yours, you ass. Don’t blame me for your problems.”

“Do you know how hard it’s been lying to them both all week when they asked about Gus?”

“I wouldn’t think it had been hard at all for a professional bullshitter like yourself. And, frankly, what I do is none of your brother’s business.”

“Yeah, right. Tell him that. I can’t believe you hooked up with Gus.”

“We haven’t
hooked
up. I’m not you. I don’t fall into bed with every living, breathing person I meet.” I stared down and rubbed my fingertips over the names and words that had been carved into the plastic table top. “He’s fun to hang out with that’s all.” My gaze shot back up to him. “And I felt bad for him because you’ve been avoiding him, and he doesn’t have a lot of friends down here.”

“There’s a reason I’ve been avoiding him. He’s a bad influence on me. He might seem like a really cool guy, but the dude is into all kinds of shit. And he has a terrible temper. Remember Dray’s party?”

“He’s been really mellow around me. I don’t see the problem.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t.” His attention was momentarily drawn away by two passing girls in tight jeans and then he looked back at me. “You still have a lot of growing up to do.”

“Ooh, you’re such an ass tonight.” I stood from the table and glanced around for Gus. “Anyhow, Gus is leaving soon, and my cover was Kiley,” I glared down at him, “who you pissed off with your usual
I’ll call you
promise. I plan on telling Gus later on that I’m not going to be able to hang out with him anymore.”

He shook his head. “I never promised Kiley that I’d call her. I didn’t realize that I was part of your evil plan.” Barrett stood from the table. “Tater Tot, you sure know how to cause problems.”

“Like you’re a saint or something. I’ll just stay clear of Clutch. He’s easy to spot even in a crowd like this.”

Barrett shook his head and dropped his heavy arm around my shoulder. “Tater, Tater, Tater.” He looked down at me. “I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“It has been years since I’ve given you a proper noogie.” Before I could react or withdraw from his arm, his knuckles came up on my head. But then he stopped and pulled out his phone. “Saved by a text.” He read the message. “Jimmy wants a bottle of water. I’ll see you later.” He slid his arm off my shoulder and turned to leave but then stopped and smiled back at me. “And try to stay out of trouble.”

“Yeah, you too. And stop promising girls you’ll call them, you cad.”

Chapter 15

Clutch

I downed the water bottle in one long series of gulps. “You could have bought me the bigger size, Cheapskate. It’s hot tonight, and there’s no breeze at all.”

Barrett had been uncharacteristically silent while he waited with me for my race. He looked around a few times as if he was worried about running into someone.

“Who are you looking for?” And then it dawned on me. “Shit, Rett, did you hit on some guy’s girlfriend out here? One of these days you’re going to pick up on the wrong girl and—”

“Stop, jeez, sometimes you drone on like Dad used to whenever I failed a test. And I didn’t hit on any girls, at least none that were attached to someone.”

I walked around to inspect the tires for a second time just to be sure. I’d felt off all night as if I shouldn’t race. I’d managed to laugh off the feeling until now, yet somehow, Barrett’s nervous demeanor had made me feeling even less confident. But the Chevelle had been running tight, and there weren’t that many serious, hardcore racers in the mix tonight. Once again, I pushed the uneasiness down into my gut. It was the last thing I needed and the surest way for things to go awry.

Rowdy, the event organizer, walked over. “You’re up next. You’re going up against Stanton in the Nova.”

I nodded and Rowdy walked away.

“Is that good or bad?’ Barrett asked.

“I like the car but hate the driver. He’s a blowhard, but it’s not like we’re going out on a date.” I rubbed a tingling sensation out of the back of my neck.

“What’s wrong? You don’t seem that thrilled to be here tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not in the mood to race tonight. I should have just stayed home, but too late now.”

Barrett leaned against the side of the car and checked his phone.

“Expecting someone?” I asked.

His face shot up, and he nearly dropped his phone. “No. Why?”

“Hell, you’re as skittish as a rabbit in a wolf’s den tonight. I thought you mentioned something about Gus coming, that’s all.”

He put away the phone. “Nope. Not expectin’ anyone.”

Rowdy waved which was my cue to head to the staging area. I rolled down the window. “See you at the finish line, Rett.”

I rolled into the staging area and gave the dashboard a hearty pat for luck. The motor rumbled beneath me like a gigantic purring cat, and my earlier apprehension had vanished. “Here we go, Sweetheart. Let’s win this again.”

The seventy Nova reached the staging area too. The tires were watered, and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. I stared at the lights on the tree, and the familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through me. Then something caught my eye. It was just a flicker of movement in a sea of people, but my gaze was drawn to it like a magnet. Taylor was standing in the crowd with Barrett’s friend.

Tires screeched. The light had gone green, and I’d missed it. Without thinking, I overcompensated by slamming my foot treacherously hard on the pedal. I moved only ten feet and the tires shook. Before I could let off the gas, the rear end fishtailed. The crowd blurred as I spun toward the guardrail and braced myself for the impact. For a second, it felt almost as if I was flying and then my journey came to an abrupt, jarring end. Everything went black.

My eyes opened and it took me several seconds to remember that I’d just been in a wreck. I took several deep breaths to force air back into my lungs. My ribs ached as they pushed against the seatbelt, and oddly, I found my mind drifting to the story Nix had told me about his father’s crash and death. But the pain and the noise outside the car assured me I was still alive.

I moved both my feet and my hands. My limbs were still working which was comforting to know. My neck, head and back felt stiff with pain. The interior of the car was still mostly intact, but the custom driver’s seat was leaning at an odd angle.

I squinted through the windshield and grimaced from the pain it caused my skull. At least a dozen people came running toward me, including the two stand-by medics with a gurney bouncing along behind them. Barrett’s blond head was out in front and he got to me first. His face was as pale as the first night he’d arrived home sick and strung out.

He yanked open the car door and just over his shoulder, I saw her. Her beautiful face was tight with worry. The seconds before the race were coming clearly back to me. One of the other drivers held onto her waist, and she pounded his arm as she tried to get past him. Her persistence paid off, and she broke into the inner circle of the wreck. Unable to get past the medics and the gurney, she stopped and froze in one spot looking a shade paler than Rett.

One of the medics put a blood pressure cuff around my arm before I even got out of the driver’s seat. Every movement pained me. “Rett, how bad is it?”

He looked down at me. “Not too bad. Everything is still attached, and I don’t see any blood except for that scratch on your forehead.”

“Not me. The car. How does she look?”

Barrett leaned back and looked at the exterior of the car before bending down to me. “She’s history. In fact, looking at this car, it’s hard to tell that it was a Chevelle. What happened out there?”

I glanced over the heads to where Taylor stood like a stunning but ghostly pale mannequin in a store. She stared back at me, and like always, it felt as if she’d reached right into my chest and touched my heart. “I got distracted.”

Barrett glanced back to see what had my attention. He hesitated as he turned back to face me. “Yeah, that was my fault.”

“It usually is.” I shifted my legs out of the car and groaned. Deep pain thudded through my muscles. “Bring her over here. She looks like she’s about to faint.”

The medics pushed everyone else out of the way and helped me to the gurney. Every inch of my body hurt as if I’d been trapped on a roller coaster ride for a month, but I could tell there was nothing much wrong with me. “I don’t really need this. My brother’s here, and he can drive me to the emergency room.”

“Sorry, these are Rowdy’s rules.”

I stretched out on the gurney, and my legs hung off the end. The width of it was short by several inches on each side. I looked up at the medic, who looked to be about Barrett’s age. He looked a little panicked about having to get me into the ambulance. “I guess you forgot to bring your custom made gurney for giants.” The gurney wobbled beneath my weight, and the rush of pain in my chest assured me that a couple of ribs had been bruised or cracked. Barrett returned to me, and I turned my head to look past him. My neck was feeling every bit of the impact.

Taylor wasn’t with him. “Where is she?”

Barrett shook his head. “She was kind of freaked out. She ran off.”

“But she must have seen me walk to the gurney.”

Barrett looked away as if he was suddenly interested in the scenery. I called this his avoidance move. It was what he resorted to when he wanted to avoid telling me something.

“Rett, no fucking games tonight. It’s been a shitty evening, and I just lost my best car.”

He stared down at his feet like a kid about to get royally chewed out. “I sort of let it slip that you’d seen her and that that was when you crashed. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You’re such an idiot.” My phone had survived the crash, and with effort, I pulled it out of my pocket to answer it. “Hey, Nix, I’m sort of busy—”

“Holy shit, Jimmy, thank God. Are you all right? I just saw the picture of your car.” It was unusual enough to hear him call me by my real name, but his voice cracked as if he’d been close to crying.

“The picture?” I glanced up, and my brother looked off into the horizon again. “I’m fine, Nix. They’ll take me in to get checked out. It’s the rules. I’ll call you after I see the doctor.”

“Do you want me to meet you at the emergency room?”

“Not necessary. I’ve got Knucklehead with me, and he’s got the truck.”

“What happened? Did a tire blow?” His tone had stabilized.

I sighed and my ribs ached from the release of air. “No, it wasn’t the tires.” I thought briefly about my reaction at seeing Taylor. Two years ago, the kid with ridiculously long legs, an addiction to lip gloss and a penchant for trouble had worked her way into my head and heart and damn if she wasn’t still tied tightly to both. “They’re going to slide me into the ambulance now. I’ll call you later.”

“Take care, Buddy.” His breathing had finally slowed.

Barrett could have sent the same picture to my dad and he probably would have called and asked why the hell I’d destroyed an expensive car. It was like that with Nix and Dray. Growing up, and even now, we’d always had each other’s backs because no one else did.

Barrett hovered nearby with his hands deep in his pockets looking sheepish and dodging direct eye contact. The medics started to push the gurney. “Hey guys, hold on a second. Rett, come over here.”

He walked over. Not all the color had returned to his face yet. I lifted my hand and motioned him closer with my fingers. He leaned down. “I’m glad you’re here, Bro,” I said quietly and honestly. Then I slapped the back of his head like I used to do whenever he did something stupid. “Idiot.”

He straightened and rubbed the back of his head. “I guess I should’ve written a text with the picture letting Nix know you were all right.”

“You think?” I took one last look at my beloved Chevelle. The next time I was feeling off before a race, I was definitely staying home. “Go ahead,” I told the medics.

***

An hour into the pain pills, it was easy to understand how people became addicted to them. I’d felt like shit in the examination room and during the x-rays on my rib cage and my knee that had swollen to the size of a grapefruit during the ambulance ride. Nothing had been broken, at least not any bones.

Removing my shirt and shoes was about all the effort I could put into getting ready for bed. My bedroom looked strangely smaller as I stretched out on my mattress and enjoyed the blissful numbness that had started as a haze in my aching head and had since flowed down to my feet. My knee throbbed as the skin rubbed against the rough material of my jeans, but after the crash I’d just lived through, I had no real right to feel as good as I did. Rowdy had had the Chevelle towed to the shop, but I was sure even the parts wouldn’t be worth much.

I had no patience to flip through the hundreds of channels on television. I lifted the remote and switched it off. The only light and sound was coming from the front room where Barrett was watching a movie. He’d hardly talked the entire ride home, and I’d probably been too hard on him. He had witnessed his brother crashing into a guardrail just minutes before making two stunningly stupid decisions. He’d had no real excuse for telling Taylor that she’d distracted me just before the race except that she’d asked him what had happened and it was the first response that had fallen out of his mouth. He’d pout about it for a day or two, but he got over things quickly.

My door opened and Barrett walked in with a glass of water. He lowered it onto my nightstand. “For the pain meds because I know what a wuss you are about swallowing. Plus, that type of pill gives you cotton mouth.”

“Spoken like a true expert. I was wondering if I should hide the bottles.” I regretted the comment instantly. His face dropped. “I’m kidding, Rett. It’s the pills talking. Thanks for driving me home.”

He nodded.

“Hey, how long has Taylor been hanging out with that scumbag?”

The avoidance move made a third appearance for the evening. Barrett glanced at the floor as if he was checking out the carpeting. “I’m not completely sure. It’s not any big deal. I’d stopped hanging with him—” he reached for the prescription bottles on my nightstand, shoved them inside and shut the drawer. “Gus is too much temptation. The guy loves to get high. He’s a good salesman, and I’m a fucking pushover.”

“Great, and Taylor’s hanging out with him.” I was quickly regretting starting this conversation. My head was already pounding.

“Taylor has never liked any of that shit. When he’s not over-the top wasted, the guy is pretty interesting to be around. He’s seen a lot of the world, and he has one of the most dangerous jobs. Chicks love that.”

“Yeah, that’s just fucking awesome.” I pressed my arm against my rib cage. It felt as if I’d scrambled the bones around and put them back in the wrong place. Breathing regularly was a chore.

“Uh, considering how Taylor reacted tonight when she witnessed the accident, I don’t think you have too much to worry about.”

There was a knock at the front door. “You expecting someone?” I asked.

“Not me. Don’t get up. I’ll go see who it is.”

“I think it would take a crane to get me off this bed.”

Barrett left the room. My eyelids felt heavy and my eyes drifted shut. I was on the edge of a deep, drug-laced sleep when soft breathing pulled me back. My mind was in a fog, but I knew whose lips the breath had floated from. Even after the night I’d had, I knew who was standing in my room before I opened my eyes.

I turned my head. The light from the living room framed her breath-stealing silhouette and then my eyes focused enough to see her face clearly in the faint light. The paleness had gone, but shock and distress still marred her amazing face.

“Don’t look like that, Taylor. None of this was your fault.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Barrett said—”

“Since when do you listen to anything Rett says? Really, I’m fine, and these painkillers are fucking awesome.”

She smiled beneath the stream of tears. She stood there for a long silent minute and then she walked across the room, slipped off her sandals and lifted the covers. My heart pounded against my sore ribs as she slid under the blankets and tucked herself in next to me.

Her sweet smelling warmth was even more comforting than the drugs as I cradled her against my sore ribs. She pressed her face against my chest.

So much had happened in the space of one evening, and my head was spinning from all of it. But nothing was more significant than this moment, holding Taylor, the woman I loved, in my arms.

She snuggled next to me, and her familiar fragrance filled my senses, senses that were heightened by the drugs and by having her so damn close.