Six
Jarrett
Red-and-blue lights flash in my rearview mirror not a minute after I pull into Hope Town.
“Shit.” I’m exhausted after driving one of the car trailers across the country, and I just need to get to a bed and die for about fifteen hours. This shit is not in my time budget, and I know I wasn’t doing a damn thing wrong.
I pull onto the shoulder, and the cop follows suit. I grab my wallet out of the center console to get my ID ready when a quick blaring sound nearly takes out my eardrums, followed by the cop’s loud speaker.
“Step out of the vehicle and put your hands above your head.”
What the fuck? I look in my side mirror, but I only see the glaring headlights as the reds and blues paint the road in a strobe of lights.
“Now.” The cop repeats like a prick, “Out of the car. Hands above your head.”
I jump out. The last thing I need is a confrontation with what is obviously an asshole of a cop. I raise my hands and stand beside my car hauler.
“You look like trouble,” the cop states and realization dawns on me. “Get your ass on the ground. Face first just for pissing me off.”
This motherfucker always makes me laugh.
Liam Beckett, local cop and a good buddy for the last couple of years, is well and truly fucking with me. I play dumb though, so I can see where he’s going with this.
“On the ground, asshole. Now.”
I stare at the bright lights and refuse to move, a shit-eatin grin on my face that I know damn well he sees.
“You’re under arrest, you prick, for not letting me know your ass was coming to Hope Town.”
I break out into a full laugh and head for the police car. He meets me in the middle, where I give him a long overdue pounding man hug.
“Been too long, Officer.”
“No shit, speed racer. I didn’t realize you were coming to town before race weekend. I figured you’d head straight for Atlanta Dragway. We’re all planning on heading down there to watch you win the Funny Car Southern Nationals title.”
“Way to put on the pressure.” I punch his shoulder, and the minute I do, a burst of melancholy hits me. I miss this place. I miss these people.
“Surprised to see you runnin’ one of the haulers. Can’t believe ol’ Marcus Dean allowed you to drive one of his babies here.” With a low whistle, he mocks my dad's tight hold on everything that has to do with his race crew.
I may be the number one driver of the team, but Dad is the crew chief and he is, and always will be, the leader, judge, and jury of our three-ring circus. The man is the best of the best, and we all know it.
“The rig has my three engines and my bike. If I don’t make it, I guess it doesn’t matter if the engines do or not. And the outfit has gotten so big, I like to keep the most important things close.”
“You headed for Caleb and Honor’s place? Shit, man, that new pad he built her is fucking sick.”
“I am.”
I’m looking forward to seeing my cousin and his wife. I would have thought when Dad and I moved to Vegas that we would have seen Caleb more often, but then he was off to England, then here, and I can’t rope the guy down. So I’ve decided to set up camp at his place until I need to be at the track. For the last two years since he’s been here, he’s been bringing the entire entourage from Hope Town to my races and we’ve all gotten to be close. I’ve been looking forward to spending some time on their soil and not just hanging with them at the track.
I yawn, just thinking about the bed waiting for me at Caleb’s place.
“Well hell, princess, I’m gonna let you head out so you can get your beauty sleep.”
I tilt my chin. “I’ll see ya this week, man. I think I may even come back after the race and stay until the next stop. I’ve got a couple weeks of free time coming up.”
“We’d love that, man. Now get your ass out of here. I’ll let you off with a warning.” He winks.
I hop in the hauler and finish the drive to Caleb’s after I send him a quick text to let him know I’m almost there. When I pull up, he’s waiting by the road. The place my family would come to visit his during the summers is gone—nothing left but grass that showcases the lake. He’s on the other side of the road, waving me down the drive that runs beside a house that looks like nothing but glass. I turn slowly and he directs me to a small barn way in the back, where the door is already pulled up. I park inside and hop out.
“Took ya long enough, Miss Daisy.” He raises an eyebrow.
Worst thing about being a professional drag car racer? The speed jokes. I’m either going too fast or moving like a turtle. Depends who’s dishin’.
Too damn tired to bite, I get to the point. “Construction on the interstate almost did me in. Then getting pulled over by Officer Beckett slowed my shit down too.”
“Beckett.” He tilts his head back in laughter. “I wish I could’ve seen that.”
“So, hey cuz, nice to see you. Please tell me your wife is in bed so I can go straight to mine.”
He continues to laugh, but then shows me some pity. “Yeah, she’s sleeping, so keep it quiet. And ah… if you wake up with a cat sprawled across you face, just roll with it. That shit is normal.”
What the fuck?
***
The smell of food beckons me from sleep. Or am I still dreaming? The loft I live in on the Vegas Strip, or the RV I take on the road, sure as hell never smells like this. I grab my jeans from the floor and tug them on, then I hit the bathroom as fast as I can before practically running down the stairs. Each step takes me closer and closer to the heavenly smell.
I sneak up behind Honor, where she’s tucked in at the kitchen sink. Thankfully, her long blond hair is pulled up, so I can whisper in her ear. “Honey, I’m home—ow! Shit!” I rub my chin where she just head-butted me.
“Jarrett! Oh my God! I’m sorry. Are you okay? You can’t sneak up on me like that.” She pulls my hand from my chin and looks at the damage, then she rubs it with her thumb. “You big goofball. Don’t do that!” She wraps me up in the sweetest hug and I follow suit, so glad to see her.
“Cuz or no cuz, get your damn hands off my wife.” Caleb walks in, covered in sweat from his workout. “And put a fucking shirt on, asshole.”
I let go of Honor and can’t help but fuck with him. “Hey, if she likes what she sees?” I rub my hands up and down my chest to drive the point home.
He shakes his head and makes his way to the coffee pot. It’s funny that he would even give a shit. He’s a UFL fighter, for Christ’s sake. His muscles grow muscles. And even though I have to stay strong in order to handle my car, I doubt he has to worry about me stealing Honor’s attention.
After giving his wife an inappropriate-for-company-present kiss, Caleb sits down across from me and hands me a cup of coffee. “I know anything goes in your sport, but are you growing a Bro Flow or some shit?” He looks at me with a little bit of disgust, I think. “And what the hell is up with your damn beard? You look like a hipster made a love child with a yeti.” He laughs at his own joke.
I run my hand over my seriously shaggy blond hair. I know I look like dog shit at the moment. “Hell no, I just haven’t had time to get a haircut. And my beard…” I scratch the once-trendy-now-burly coarse hair and laugh. I really need to spend thirty minutes at the barber and get my shit back in check. I observe Caleb’s well-groomed head. “Point me in the right direction, cuz.”
Caleb’s face lights up, and he and Honor share a look that has me narrowing my eyes. “Want me to set you up an appointment? I’d be happy to take you there myself.”
I’m not sure what these two are up to, but either way, I need a damn haircut. “Hook it up, bro.”