Clutch (Custom Culture) (12 page)

BOOK: Clutch (Custom Culture)
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She lifted her face and looked up at me. “By the way, this doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

I pulled her closer and had to restrain myself from holding her too tightly. “Yeah, I know.”

 

 

Chapter 16

Taylor

My phone buzzed in my pocket waking me from a sound sleep. Lying tucked against Clutch’s hard chest with his massive arms around me felt just as I’d expected, safe, comforting and right. I was meant to be this close to him always but crazy stuff always seemed to get in the way. And, as much as I knew this was the place I was supposed to be, he seemed completely unsure. Tonight, when I’d seen his car fly into the guardrail, I’d grabbed Gus’s arm to keep from falling to my knees. As soon as I’d felt steady enough to run, I jammed through the crowd to get to him, terrified of what I might find when I got there. More than once, Jason had told me the tragic story of how Nix watched his dad die in a car race, and that horrifying scenario flashed through my mind as I ran to him.

Relief had washed over me as I saw him emerge from his car and walk to the gurney, but when Barrett had let it slip that he’d seen me in the crowd with Gus just before the race, the horror returned. Gus had dropped me back off at the park to wait for a ride that I knew wasn’t ever coming. Once his car was out of sight, I walked to the nearest bus stop. I had to see Clutch. I had to know that he was all right.

Clutch took a deep breath, and his chest pressed harder against my cheek. I could hear the steady, slow beat of his heart. The pain medication had dropped him into a deep sleep. My phone buzzed again with urgency. I managed to free an arm and reach into my pocket.

“You should get home now,” Jason’s text read. It was amazing how much command and threat my brother could put into five words.

I slid the phone back into my pocket and looked up at Clutch’s face. He was breathtaking even in sleep. I scooted up and his arms instinctively tightened around me as if he had no intention of letting me slip away. If only that were the case. If only he knew that all he had to do was ask and I would stay with him forever. I kissed his lips lightly and he stirred but didn’t wake.

I managed to free myself from his grasp. I slipped on my sandals and tiptoed out of the room. Barrett was stretched out on the couch with his arm hanging on the ground and his hand still wrapped around a beer. He was fast asleep.

I crept across the room, hoping I hadn’t missed the midnight bus or I’d be even later getting home. At this point, I just didn’t give a shit what my parents had to say about me being out late.

“Let me give you a ride home, Tater,” a groggy voice floated up from the couch.

“I’ll just take the bus.”

Barrett sat up and combed his long hair back with his fingers. He squinted into the light of the room. “Nah, it’s late. All kinds of mass murderers ride those buses at this hour.”

“All kinds? I didn’t know there was a variety of them out there.”

He reached for his shoes and put them on. “Hell yeah, there is.” He pushed up from the couch and reached into his pocket for keys. He reached the door and smiled down at me with those blue eyes that were his strongest weapon. “And they all love to prey on pretty girls with copper hair and pouty lips.”

“Oh?” We walked outside. I hugged myself against the drastic drop in temperature from being wrapped in Clutch’s giant arms to the cool, clear spring night. “How do you know they don’t like pretty boys with blond hair?”

He scowled down at me. “You know I hate being called pretty.”

“That is why I chose that particular adjective.” I walked over to the passenger side. “But, hey, thanks for the lift. From the text I just received from Jason, it seems a fun therapy and intervention session is waiting for me at home.” I climbed inside the cab and realized that my load was a little light. “Damn it, I left my backpack in the back of Gus’s car. I guess I’ve just blown my out late studying cover.”

Barrett looked over at me as he stuck the key in the ignition. “Seriously? Your parents thought
you
were out studying?”

“Hey, I study.”

His laughter filled the truck cab as he backed out of the driveway.

I reached forward and messed with the radio until something decent came on. “He’s going to really feel this tomorrow,” I said quietly into the blaring music.

“Yep, it’s always worse the next day.” Barrett glanced over at me. “Thanks for coming to see him tonight. I’m sure it made him feel better.”

“He was so drugged up, I doubt he’ll even remember I was there.”

He laughed again, but it had a completely different sound. “Believe me, he’ll remember it. Don’t worry about your backpack. I’ll get it back from Gus. I know you were going to tell him that you couldn’t hang out with him anymore. How’d he take it?”

I stared silently out the passenger window.

“You didn’t tell him, did you?”

I shrugged. “So much happened tonight, I just didn’t have the strength to do it. But I will. Besides, he’s leaving in two weeks and then he’ll be thousands of miles away.”

“Coward.”

“Right, I’m a coward. How many girls have you dated or gone home with that you’ve never called again?” I held up my hand. “Don’t bother to try and count. The ride home isn’t that long.”

My street was dark and quiet as the truck puttered along between the neatly trimmed lawns. The cement sidewalks glowed beneath a nearly full moon. Barrett turned off the headlights several houses before mine. “Just in case your dad’s got a shotgun sitting across his lap while he’s perched rigid in his recliner waiting for his little troublemaker to come home.”

“Thanks for that charming scenario. Like my heart isn’t already beating fast enough.”

His eyes widened and worry crossed his face. “He doesn’t really have a gun, does he?” He grabbed my wrist. “He wouldn’t hurt you, right?”

His concern was cute and something I’d rarely seen from him. “No, he wouldn’t unless you count yelling at me at the top of his lungs. That does hurt my ears some.” I reached for the door and then smiled back at him. “You know I always think of you as just this good-looking guy who doesn’t have much deep in here.” I touched his chest. “There’s hope for you yet, Barrett Mason.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for the ride back to the Dungeon of Doom.”

My fingers trembled some as I pushed the key into the door. The only light on was the dim light Mom left on in the kitchen in case someone needed a glass of milk in the middle of the night. She’d always insisted it was for safety, but I was pretty sure it was so no one would spill anything on her glistening counters.

The house was eerily quiet as I crept down the long hallway to my bedroom. I would have almost preferred to have them meet me head on in the entryway or the kitchen. My heart was jumping around in my chest and I was bracing for a surprise attack. The flickering light coming from beneath their door let me know they were still up watching television. I passed their room and the light turned off. The only sound in the house was my grandmother’s old mantle clock, the icemaker in the refrigerator and the pulse pounding in my ears.

I reached my door and slid inside. If I was going to face them, I preferred it to be on my own territory, especially because the mess in my room would probably distract my mom from the lecture. I washed my face and changed into the long t-shirt I always wore to bed. The wait was killing me. I just wanted to get it all over with. I had every intention of telling them everything. I was growing tired of making up stories and lies.

I climbed into bed and sat up against the bed board, watching for the door knob to turn like in one of those horror movies where the girl hears footsteps and then waits for the door to open. But there were no footsteps, only terrifying silence. All kinds of weird scenarios floated through my imagination, like waking up in the morning and finding myself strapped into the seat of an airplane headed to Florida. Or maybe they’d just put locks on the outside of the door and cut a slit to slide food into me. An unsettling quiet pervaded every corner of the house.

I leaned my head back and shut my eyes trying to relive the feeling of being wrapped in Clutch’s arms. I would have given anything to be back there pressed against him, his soft snores ruffling the hair on the top of my head. My phone buzzed from the pocket of the shorts I’d thrown on the floor. I lunged for it as if the low vibration could be heard throughout the house.

I glanced at the screen, and my heart flipped around in my chest again but for a completely different reason. I’d called him hundreds of times, but I could count his phone calls on one hand.

“Hey,” I said quietly. Every sound disturbed the stillness of the house.

There was a long pause and for a moment I thought he would hang up. “I woke up and you weren’t there.” I could sense that he was in physical pain.

“I needed to get home.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Take another pill.”

“The only painkiller I need is you lying next to me.”

I smiled and closed my eyes absorbing the words even though I knew they were probably a result of the drugs. “You’re high.”

He grew silent and I wondered if he’d drifted back off to sleep. “I’m not high. I want you, Taylor, here, next to me. Fuck what everyone else thinks. I need you.”

“I know you do, you jerk.” My throat tightened and it was hard to talk. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for two years.”

I could hear his breathing through the phone, and I shut my eyes again and imagined it caressing my mouth before he kissed me.

“Do you still hate me?”

Unexpected tears rolled down my cheeks. This man certainly had a knack for making me cry. “Yes, I do.”

“Are you crying?”

“No— yes— maybe.” I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my t-shirt.

“Taylor,” he said quietly, “I never stop thinking about you.” His labored breaths stuttered through the phone. “I’ve never stopped.” I heard his bed squeak and he groaned in pain. My tears flowed faster.

My voice caught in my throat and I swallowed and took a deep breath. It was the pills talking, and I had to keep my head. “Hey, Viking, stop being so stoic and take a damn pill.”

“I will,” he finally said. “But I’m still not going to sleep without you pressed against me.”

“Good night, Clutch.”

 

 

Chapter 17

Clutch

Barrett looked up from his bowl of cereal. “There’s no way you’re going in today. You look like— like you were in a car crash.” He smiled at his stupid comment and lifted the bowl to drink the milk.

The distance to the coffee pot seemed daunting. What normally took me three long strides across the floor turned into seven painstaking shuffles. My knee throbbed with every step but favoring the other leg sent a stab of pain through my back.

Barrett laughed as he lowered the bowl. “Holy shit, you look just like Grandpa Mason. I still remember when he would come to visit and he’d take those little mini steps, and if you got stuck behind him in the hallway, you had to wait like thirty minutes to get to the other end.”

Pouring coffee took some effort. I turned around in slow motion and slid out a chair. The legs of the chair creaked as my knee gave out halfway down and I plopped down hard on the seat. I looked across the table at Barrett. “Jackass.” I took a sip of coffee and nearly spit it out. “Who the hell taught you how to make coffee? It tastes like tar.”

“That’s how we made it on the boat, thick and black just like the cowboys used to drink it.”

“Push the milk this way, Wild Bill. Maybe I can still save my cup.”

Barrett slid the milk carton toward me, and I drowned the coffee with milk. “Thanks for taking Taylor home last night.” I’d woken to the lingering fragrance of her perfume on my sheets, and all I could think was that I wanted her to still be there my wrapped within my arms, pressing her sweet, seductive body against me. It would have definitely given me incentive to stay in bed instead of ignoring the painful protest from every muscle in my body.

“Crazy Tater Tot, she came here by bus, and she was actually planning to climb back on the bus to go home.”

I stared down at the foamy mixture of coffee and milk. “Tater Tot, I haven’t heard that nickname in a long time.” My chest felt heavy, not as much from the drugs and the entire =wipeout of a night, but from missing her. She’d climbed silently into bed next to me, and it’d felt completely right. She belonged there. She’d always belonged there. There was no one else. Just Taylor.

Barrett got up to put his bowl in the sink. “Yeah, she doesn’t really fit the nickname anymore, but old habits die hard. Are you really going in to work today?”

“Yeah, I’ve got stuff to do. Besides, I feel better if I’m moving around. Once I lay down, it is that much harder to peel my sorry ass out of bed. But you can drive me. Somehow sitting behind the wheel just doesn’t sound fun today.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get back on the horse?”

“Not if that horse is going to be trotting through traffic on the L.A. freeways. And my head feels like it’s filled with cotton today.”

Barrett returned the milk to the refrigerator. “That sounds like the perfect state of mind for sitting in traffic. Well, hurry up then, Grandpa. My boss is a real asshole when I’m late.”

***

Barrett had managed to find every pothole and rough patch in the road and then seemed to take pleasure in hitting the driveway edge extra hard as he pulled in behind the shop. “Christ, is this how you treat my truck every day, or are you just in the mood to torture me?”

“Hey, this is how you taught me to drive, big brother.”

I shook my head. “I’m not taking credit for your shitty ass driving.”

“This coming from the man who left most of his Chevelle on the guardrail last night.” The smirk on his face definitely needed to be wiped off, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“Technically, that was your fault too.” I glanced down at my phone for the hundredth time since we’d left the house. The summer before, I could count on her texting me or calling me at least three times a day. And, even though I’d acted annoyed, I hadn’t been. It was stupid, but I was sure she would text me just to see how I was feeling.

“You must be expecting a very important call.”

“Yep, and that’s why I’m the boss. I get important calls.” After sitting in the car for half an hour, climbing out hurt every muscle in my body.

“Or maybe you were just expecting a text from a certain long legged, sweet smelling girl.”

I glanced over the top of the truck at him. “Shit, Rett, do I really need this crap today?”

“You’re right. Sorry about that. I’m going inside to finish cleaning those parts. I’ll let Scottie know that you’ll be inside in—” He looked across the asphalt to the back door of the shop and then back at me. “In about twenty minutes.” Once again pleased with his own humor, he laughed and headed to the door.

Scotlyn looked up from the computer. “Clutch!” She slid out from behind the counter and I noticed the tears just before she threw her arms around me. “Thank God you’re all right.”

I hugged her back. She was trembling slightly. “Hey, Scottie, I’m fine. Just a little sore. Sorry for giving you such a scare.”

She lifted her face. “Don’t do it again.”

“Considering I had to put down my best horse, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

She wiped a tear off her cheek with her thumb. “Your
horse
is in the garage, and after seeing it, I’m glad I wasn’t there last night.” She stepped back and looked at me. “I can’t believe you’re not hurt more.”

“Just a badly swollen knee. Not sure what I hit it on, but that’s my main complaint. I guess it helps to be built like a Viking.”

She smiled weakly and patted my arm. “It’s like having your own muscular suit of armor. Now go sit in your office and put that leg up. You shouldn’t be standing on that knee. Jason isn’t here yet, but I’m sure he can do deliveries today. I sent you some emails for part requests.”

“I owe Jason one. He came in last night and opened up the shop for the tow truck.” I limped to the office and fell into my chair. I was hopeful that Jason had had no clue about Taylor being at the race or with me after the race.

Scotlyn came in and slid the extra chair across the room and patted the seat cushion. “Put your leg up here, and I’ll get you some coffee.”

She left the office. The back door opened and slammed shut.

“I saw Barrett’s truck out back,” Jason’s angry voice filled the front room. “Where is he?”

“He’s out cleaning parts,” Scotlyn answered hesitantly, assuring me that I hadn’t misheard the rage in Jason’s tone.

His footsteps pounded the tile floor of the shop, and I heard the door to the parts room creak as it swung open. “You fucking little weasel,” Jason yelled.

I shot out of my chair, temporarily forgetting that everything hurt. I remembered the second my foot slammed on the ground. I grabbed my knee to stop the pulsating pain and then limped to the back room.

Barrett was standing looking completely shell shocked but with his fists ready for defense.

“You fucking loser. I let you work in my shop, and you hook my sister up with one of those lowlife, drugged-out friends of yours?” Jason stepped toward him.

“It’s
our
shop,” I said.

Jason swung around and his eyes popped open. “Clutch, I didn’t think you were here.”

“The way you just spoke to my brother, that’s pretty fucking obvious.”

He fell silent.

“What the hell, Jason? Have you lost your goddamned mind?” I asked.

My comment seemed to kick him back into offense mode. “This loser fixed Taylor up with—”

Apparently anger was a far better pain killer than opiates. I was in front of him before he could blink and my proximity shut him up fast. “Jason,” I said between clenched teeth, and my tone drained the blood from his face. “We have been friends a long time, but if you call my brother a loser again, or anything else for that matter, I will knock you through that back wall.”

He stretched up taller, something he always did when he was pissed at me. His head still barely reached my shoulder. “I’m just looking out for my little sister, just like you’re looking out for him.”

“Yeah, I get that, but your sister makes her own decisions. You should stop trying to control her.” It was the first time I’d defended Taylor to her brother, and it made me realize what an asshole I’d been. I’d always been on his side and from the look on his face he was just as shocked as I was.

“I think you should mind your own damn business.” He slid past me but then stopped. “And
you
stay the fuck away from her too. My parents are thinking of sending her off again, and it will be his fault.” He pointed at Barrett and then spun back to face me. “And yours.”

“Really?” He was not going to pull a cowardly retreat after that. “Because I think it’s your parent’s fault. And you’re just as much to blame as them.”

Jason’s shoulders stiffened and he stopped in the doorway and looked back at me. He was pissed but so was I. We’d argued plenty of times, but this was different. We were causing irreparable damage to our friendship and partnership.

“You selfish asshole, you have only one stake in this fight. You want my sister. Well, you’re not going to have her. My parents will send her out of the fucking country if they have to.”

“You are just your parent’s whipping boy. And your girlfriend’s too. And thanks for letting me know how you and your parents really feel about me. Funny that I’m good enough to be your business partner. Or is that just because I know how to make money?”

His mouth twisted as he seemed to consider his next words carefully. Shit had already hit the fan and sprayed the entire room. I doubted there was much more he could say to make things worse.

“My parents want better for Taylor. Let’s just say they were hoping for someone from a
better
side of the tracks.”

I’d been wrong. There was more shit to fling, and this was the worst crap of all.

Jason fidgeted as I stared down at him. For a second, it actually looked as if he wished he could suck the words back in, but it was way too late for that.

“Not that I give a fuck but good to know their opinion of me,
Partner.
All I know is that if ignorant people like your parents come from the
better
side of the tracks, then I’m glad to be from the
other
side.”

With nothing else to say, he left the room. I turned back to Barrett, who still looked as stunned as a kid who’d stuck a paperclip in an electric socket.

I ran my hair back with my fingers and sighed as I glanced around at the piles of parts. Jason and I had started an awesome business together and it had already made way more money than either of us had expected, but this partnership grew more and more tenuous each day. Even so, it wasn’t the business that weighed heavily on my chest. It was the girl.

 

BOOK: Clutch (Custom Culture)
13.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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