Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1) (3 page)

“I thought I told you that you weren’t to ride that bike again.”

“Yeah, you did. I just didn’t listen.”

“Where are you, Pheebs?”

“Out.” I’d intended to tell him my plans when I’d called, but his over-the-top reaction pushed the right buttons to make me bite back rather than cooperate.

Before I could say anything else, or get him off the phone, the first boarding call for my flight sounded over the loudspeakers at the airport. It was the warning that they were seating business class and families, but the advantage to flying on the company dollar was that I could book business.

“Are you at the airport?” Dad’s tone told me I’d be in a lot of shit when I got home, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting away. At least for a night or two.

“I’m just going to see Aunt Edie. I’ve already arranged it with her.”

“And when were you planning on telling me? Or your mum?”

“Now?” I’d been able to say it with some authority when I’d said it to Eden, but the anger in Dad’s voice disarmed me. “I’m sorry. I just need some space. I’m nearly eighteen; I can’t be in a house full of kids.”

It wasn’t like I hadn’t lived with Eden before on and off, usually around race meets that would take me to Sydney for a few weeks. I even had ID with her address on it . . . which was how I’d been able to get around Queensland’s tighter rules for getting a bike licence. No way was I going to wait until I was eighteen to even apply.

“Phoebe, please, come home? We can chat about what you need—”

“I will. I just need this first, okay? Love you.” I hung up the phone while he was still talking.

For the first time since I’d planned my getaway, I debated not following through. Audrey, the travel clerk at Emmanuel Racing, would probably get in some shit over the fact that she’d booked me a flight. Again. It wasn’t like she’d broken protocol this time. After all, she’d been told not to book anything I asked for, but Dad had never forbidden her from booking flights in my name that came from his email. Not even emergency bookings with less than twelve hours’ notice.

I was sure there would be another tightening of the procedures now that I’d found the loophole and hacked his emails.

Another tightening of the noose around my neck.

My phone started to ring again, but I rejected the call and turned off my mobile entirely. I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed onto the plane. I’d deal with the fallout of my decision when I came back home, just like I had every other time I’d run away.

“DO YOU HAVE any idea how much trouble you got me into?” Eden asked as she reached for my backpack when she met me at the airport. I tried to ignore the people bustling around us and focused solely on her.

After letting her claim my bag, I wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her tight. She was tall and willowy, but I’d caught up a little more since the last time I’d seen her. “I love you too, Aunt Edie.”

Three people bumped into us as we stood in our embrace, but thankfully it didn’t look like any had their cameras out to snap photos so it didn’t appear the paparazzi were aware of our presence. Yet.

“Don’t think I don’t know that you just bust out the aunt word when you want to get on my good side.”

I drew back from her and grinned. “Is it working?”

A begrudging smile slipped onto her mouth, and she chuckled. “God, you are so much like your father. It’s no wonder you two can’t agree on anything.”

I looked down at my hands as she said the words that were so familiar, and fucking scary. Everyone talked about how much I was like Dad. It was supposed to be a compliment—and in some ways it was—but I knew all the stories about him. About what he’d done to Mum before I was born. He’d made up for it in spades over the years, and I didn’t hate him for it. But it always left me wondering whether maybe that same gene tainted my blood. That same need to run.

After all, I’d heard the stories of Dad’s father cheating on Nana Reede. I came from a long line of commitment-phobes.

Was that why I’d never had a relationship that lasted longer than the magazine article announcing it? Was there some flaw in the genetic make-up of us Reedes that made us run whenever people tried to get close to us?

Ever since I’d started noticing boys, and they noticed me back, the fear of letting anyone close enough that I could hurt them stopped me from even trying for anything more. Especially with the knowledge I could probably never offer the normal things people wanted—marriage, kids, a long life, and growing old together.

“Hey, kiddo, where’d you go?” Eden cut into my introspection, drawing me back to the noise of the busy terminal.

I shrugged and picked at the black polish on my nails. I’d painted them after my last race—around the same time I’d coloured the streak in my hair. Sure, the black polish was clichéd and tacky, but it fit the part I was trying to portray to the world: the girl whose soul was jaded and best represented by her dye job and black nails. Of course, the feeling of crap on my nails was more irritating than anything else, so bit by bit I’d been chipping it all away.

Eden nudged my shoulder. “I am glad you’re here. It’s been too long since I last saw you.”

I gave a half-hearted grin. “You were up for Christmas while Max was with Morgan.” I hated mentioning their most recent break-up. Eden and Morgan were great, and perfect for each other, but they weren’t without their problems. During the many years they’d been married, they’d spent almost as many apart as they had together.

Three times, Morgan had moved out while Max was at school. It was part of the reason Max had spent so much time at our house, and also why he had an intense fear of saying goodbye.

“Yeah, but Christmas was five months ago now. That’s a long time to not see my favourite non-niece. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Wrapping my arm around her waist and leaning my head on her shoulder, I let her lead me through the airport and toward the car park.

When we reached her car, she threw my backpack into the backseat and climbed in. I slipped into the passenger seat.

“I, uh, have to warn you about something before we get back to my place,” she said as she started the engine.

“Okay?”

“Well, it seems our little Maxie is, uh, growing up.”

I frowned. “Okay?”

“What I mean is that he’s discovered girls. More specifically, he’s discovered . . .” She trailed off and with her expression seemed to beg me to understand. “Well, you,” she added, almost silently.

“What?” I thought about it for a second, trying to piece together what she was saying. “Do you mean to say that he, Max—that is Max, who’s like a little brother from another mother, has been . . .” I coughed, as unable to say the words as Eden had been.

“Evidently. When I was cleaning his room, I, uh, found your calendar underneath his bed with some other supplies. I thought I should warn you. Once he’s found out you’re going to be at home, he’ll probably be at your side the whole time. It wouldn’t surprise me if he brought a gaggle of his friends around too.”

“But that calendar is just me in a race suit. It’s not like there’s anything sexual about it.”

“According to Morgan, when he was that age he could get himself off to a
Better Homes and Gardens
magazine.”

I slumped back against the seat. “Fucking great.”

“You really should watch that mouth of yours. You know how your parents feel about your swearing.”

I pulled my legs up onto the seat and hugged my knees. “Well, I can’t see them around here, can you?”

“You know they really don’t deserve to deal with that chip on your shoulder. Not now. Not with everything going on with Nikki.”

I dropped my forehead to my knees. Eden was never one to shy away from the cold, hard truth. Her words should have shaken me to the core, but they didn’t. For good reason. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already been telling myself. It wasn’t as though I liked leaving them in the lurch. “I know that, Aunt Edie, and I don’t mean to do it to them. It’s just . . . Dad’s so suffocating. Help with the kids, cook dinner, get on the track, stay off the bike, keep up the apprenticeship. There’s just too many expectations heaped on me.”

“You should stay off the bike though.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dad’s let me blast around the track in the ProV8, I think I can handle a little bike. It’s not exactly high powered.”

“What I mean,” Eden said, talking over me, “is that you haven’t got your bike licence yet, have you? Weren’t you complaining about the fact that you couldn’t get it until you were eighteen the last time I saw you?”

“Oh, right.” I hadn’t told anyone but Flynn and Luke that I had my bike license. Eden would have been the first to blab to Dad. Flynn had accepted it and bought me the bike as an early birthday present on the proviso I told Mum and Dad about my licence. I was going to. I just hadn’t . . . yet. “But that only matters if I’m caught.”

“And if you are, what will that do to your career?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Dad.”

“I’ve never been so insulted before in my life.” She leant across the car and nudged my shoulder before chuckling. “But really, do you want to race?”

“Of course I do. It’s what I’ve been working toward for as long as I can remember.”

“But?”

“But I don’t know if I want to do it because
I
want
to, or if it’s just because it’s what Dad wants.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to figure out.”

“How?”

“Don’t race anymore.”

I frowned. It wasn’t that easy. I had commitments, a championship, plus I needed to be on the track—it was the only place I was really free. There, and blasting up country roads on my bike, but I wasn’t allowed to do that anymore.

She smirked at me. “That little bit of panic in here,” she lifted her hand off the wheel long enough to point at her chest, “when I said not to do it, is exactly how you know that it’s what you want.”

“I guess.”

“No. There’s no guessing. You love it, and even if you step away, you’ll come back to it eventually. I mean, look at your dad.”

Dad’s comeback was famed—and part of the shadow I’d lived under most of my life. After a meteoric rise and an excruciating fall, he’d returned to racing by claiming third place at Bathurst in a spectacular fashion. Then he’d used that momentum to start his own team.

Even after he’d formally retired when I was ten, he’d continued in the enduro races and out on the test track for years. In fact, just last week, he’d taken the ProV8 out for a few test laps to get his mind off Nikki’s surgery.

“Why don’t you take some time off? Come stay with me for a few months. Get the space you need before your next race.”

“Maybe.” The doubt was clear in my voice. Was that what I wanted?

I’d done it before and had enjoyed the breathing room. Maybe a break from the pressure cooker at home would help. It was just . . . I wanted something more.

“You obviously flew down here for some reason. So what was it?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know where else to go. No one else gets it, you know? Not really.”

“What about Angel?”

Angelique had been my best friend through high school. If it weren’t for her, I wasn’t sure I would have made it through the experience alive. The kids there were vicious and found every reason they could to hate me. The senior boys thought I’d be easy because of my promotional shoots and hated me for being “frigid” and an “ice queen.” The popular girls accused me of being a prick-tease because the boys were more interested in me than them.

Everyone else caused problems because of things outside of my control. Not only was I the daughter of the infamous Declan Reede, and out of class more often than I was there because of my racing schedules, but as a June baby, I was also one of the youngest in my grade.

Angel had stepped into my life midway through year ten and taught me not to give a fuck what other people thought. She was a unique soul. Beautiful as the day was long, but smart as a tack and loyal to a fault too. It was impossible to get her down, and she saw the good in almost everyone. Unless someone fucked with her or her friends, then she’d rain hellfire down on them.

On the first day we met, she decided we’d be lifelong BFFs, and insisted I sit next to her. She’d shared all her notes when I wasn’t able to go so I didn’t flunk out of any classes. She stuck up for me and before long, we’d even started to cultivate the rumour that we were together just to get the boys to leave us both alone. Of course, the thing about rumours was there was often some degree of fact beneath the lies.

Mum and Dad hadn’t always approved of Angel, especially not after they met her mother the first time, but along the way they began to appreciate that Angel had helped facilitate an easier transition for me. Under her steady friendship, I’d blossomed from awkward teen to young adult.

“Angel is great, and I love her to death, you know that, but she doesn’t totally get it either. Aside from Mum, you’re really the only one who knows how Dad can be.”

“And what do you mean by that? Caring? Dedicated? Passionate?”

“An arse.”

She chuckled. “That he can be, but did you stop to consider why? Especially at the moment.”

“I know. Nikki’s surgery went okay though. She’s resilient.” Even as I said the words, I shrank back away from them. It was what I’d forced myself to say, even when I didn’t entirely believe it. Words I had regurgitated to Mum and Dad whenever they’d shown signs of their stress. A statement I still wasn’t sure I entirely believed. She wasn’t completely out of the woods yet after all.

Glancing out the window, I saw we were already at Eden’s house.

After she pulled the car into her garage, she turned to me and rested her hand against my head. “It’s just, well, her life so far has been a reminder of his mistakes.”

Mistakes that included me.

I tucked my chin to my chest so that Eden wouldn’t see the tears that sprang to my eyes, but it was too late.

“Hey, you know I didn’t mean it like that. Dec, well, he regards leaving your mum as the biggest mistake of his life. That and not being there for you when you were sick. Those are the things he would take back if he could. Not you. He’s never once regretted you.” As if she didn’t think I believed her, she grabbed both my hands in hers and stared into my eyes. “Not. Once.”

“I know.” She was right in some ways of course. Mum and Dad had never shied away from their past, ensuring I knew all the details because it was mostly available for public consumption anyway.

For as long as I could remember, Dad had ensured I felt loved. Cared for. He’d never made me feel like
I
was a mistake or that he regretted my existence. More often than not when it came down to it, he’d usually side with me over anyone else—even Mum. None of that changed the truth though. The fact remained I was an accident. Both Emmanuel and I were. We hadn’t been planned and had been a source of worry and stress long before we were born. Mum and Dad weren’t even together at the time Mum found out about us.