Losing Traction: Westbeach #1
Amo Jones
Losing Traction
Westbeach Series Book One
By Amo Jones
Copyright 2015 Amo Jones
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Note: This story is not suitable for persons under the age of 18 or those who do not enjoy sexy, twisted relationships. This is a roller coaster, not a carousel.
*If the word “fuck” offends you, please don’t read this book.
Welcome to the twisted world of Pheobe Rendon and Ryder Oakley.
Book design and formatting by Swish Design & Editing
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Francessca’s Romance Reviews
Copyright 2015
My name is Phoebe Rendon. Growing up as the only girl surrounded by the Sinful Souls MC community has never been easy. Outside of the club, I had no life because my brother and his two psycho best friends kept tabs on me. My only out was racing at Point Hellers, the largest and steepest drift mountain in Westbeach, California. Cars were my life, and Eight years later, that hasn’t changed. Only now, I have the funds to support my habit.
My love life’s been rocky. All I’ve known of love is twisted biker men from other MC chapters. Until I met Ryder Oakley, the lead singer and Rock God from Twisted Transistor. He showed me the world in two weeks. Then one night he up and left me, without so much as a note. Now, two years later, I’ve been assigned as a fashion assistant to go on tour with Alyx Munroe, pop princess and diva queen. Only my shitty boss Maree omitted to inform me that Alyx Munroe would also be touring with Twisted Transistor. Just when I thought I’d forgotten Ryder, he comes back into my life in full force, causing me to slowly lose traction of my feelings.
With my plans for building my own racing circuit underway, I finally have the footing to leave the fashion industry and concentrate on finalizing my circuit. Where we can showcase some of the best and hottest girl racers from around the world.
This empire is mine, but with power and money comes hate and destruction.
Welcome to Westbeach.
To perfectly broken people, may they find their own Pheobe Rendon.
Simon—My partner in crime, the Clyde to my Bonnie, and the love of my life. I could not have done all of this without your undying support. You have been the truth to my words and my number one critic. I love you so much, and I cherish the moments you have had to (at times) take up both roles, as mother and father while I locked myself up in my writing cave. I love you - Always and Forever.
My four little people—My four little critters who are the light of my life. They have tolerated (at times) a moody mother when all I wanted to do was write, but they enjoy all my guilt gifts and privileges once I’m finished a book, though. So it’s a win-win.
Isis Te Tuhi—Thank you for always being the ear to my troubles, for going through the emotional rollercoasters of all these stories with me, you are my caramel soul sister. The one and only, Mrs. R.F.
Kaylene Osborn— I’m not sure where to start with this incredible woman. You are not just my editor, you’re my friend. Thank you for always being there, and I love that I can share anything with you. You have made me smile on the days that I didn’t really feel like smiling, and you have kicked my arse in line when it was needed. I’m not sure where I’d be without you.
Addison Jane— Jeepers, my girl. Where have you been all my life? Thank you for all the support you have given me on my writing journey. You are amazing and I thank you every day for everything that you have shared with me. #kiwiauthorsunite (Kay, leave the hashtag alone. It is okay.)
My Readers—My beautiful readers, I love you all. Keep reading and keep writing those reviews. Each of you has contributed to me pushing through my rough patches. You make it all worth it, each and every one of you.
The Bloggers—Thank you to all the lovely bloggers who have been there from day one, and the new ones who have just started reading my stories now and sharing your honest reviews. You are all amazing and I thank you for taking the time out of your busy lives to read my book. I hold the utmost respect for you.
Lastly, thank you to all who have had to endure my yapping as I got excited about a plot in one of my books and all I wanted to do was talk about it. I know I talked your ears off, so thank you.
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
Playlist
Connect With Me Online
About the Author – Amo Jones
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself in the mirror.
My boss, Maree, has me booked to go touring around the world with Alyx Munroe. The Alyx Munroe. Singer, princess, socialite, pop queen, whatever you want to call her. I was ecstatic when I found out I was going to be touring with one of Hollywood’s elite for four weeks on wardrobe duties. But that was until I discovered that it was Alyx-fucking-Munroe. The girl is a well-known diva queen. Also well known for throwing tantrums when she doesn’t get her way.
I might actually kill her, who knows?
I walk into my house, which is situated on a huge plot of farmland in Westbeach, California. My job is in Hollywood Hills, but I stay with one of my close friends Carter when I’m there for work. Since our best friend Kalie ran off with Ade, Carter has needed someone to lean on for his emotional needs. That someone has become me.
I hang up my jacket and make my way upstairs while typing out a quick text message to my brother Blake. He’s a member of the Sinful Souls MC, as my father was. The club is my family, always have been and always will be.
Me: Can you bring Shooter over, please. I miss him.
Blake: Gladly, Vicky has been paying him more attention than me.
Me: I miss him so much. See you soon.
Shooter is my three-year-old Cane Corso. He’s pure black and resembles a black panther. He’s a big softie to people he knows, I can’t guarantee that he won’t eat you if you try to break into his house, though.
I walk into my white and peach colored kitchen,
swinging open my fridge and pouring myself a glass of wine. I love my house and don’t get to spend nearly enough time here because my work is hectic. Moving out to the living room, I slide open the glass sliding doors that open out to my huge backyard. Walking outside I take my shoes off and sit down on the soft green grass, sipping my cold, crisp glass of Laurent-Perrier, Grand Siècle. I untie my long ash blonde hair, which is a little lighter than it was in my younger days and let it trail down my back.
My younger days, I remember them like they were only yesterday…
Phoebe Rendon, yep that’s me. You probably have an idea about THAT last name. I’m the baby Rendon, as in baby sister to Blake Rendon and only daughter of Pete Rendon—Vice President of the Sinful Souls Motorcycle Club.
To say I’ve lived a sheltered life is probably a slight understatement. No one will come near me. All of the boys at school knew my family, and by family, I mean the entire MC of the Westbeach chapter. They knew my brother and his two psycho best friends and no one crossed them—ever. Therefore, I had no life.
It was Uncle Davey’s birthday, so that meant we were all at the clubhouse having a cook out. Uncle Davey is the President of the Sinful Souls MC and is Zane’s dad. Zane and Aidan are the psycho best friends I mentioned earlier. Both of their fathers are members of the MC and I’ve known them all of my life. I love my dad, he had always done his best at raising Blake and me, because my mom ran out on us when we were babies. Blake said it was because she couldn’t handle being a part of club life anymore. I say she’s weak.
I’m sitting at the bonfire roasting marshmallows with Blake and Aidan sitting to the left, opposite me. Aidan’s hot. No, he’s ridiculously hot. He’s all bad boy wrapped up in a delicious set of massive arms and a face any model would die for, with the perfect cheekbones, jawline, blue eyes, and a wide cheeky grin sitting under a set of dimples. He’s perfect. There’d been more than one time I’d tried to have my way with him, only for him to push me away and laugh. I honestly don’t think he understood that we were meant to be together—he will though.
That’s my sarcasm coming through strong.
I’d been sporting a crush on him since as long as I could remember. He won’t touch me of course. In his eyes, I’m the annoying little sister that no one will touch.
“Speedy, you look deep in thought?” Zane asked from the other side of the bonfire. Speedy is the nickname that I’d been given. I inherited it from when I was a little girl who’d rather ride anything with four wheels than play with Barbie and Ken.
“Because I am, I need to get out of here.”
He shook his head while holding his beer up, stopping short of his mouth.
“Not happening.”
I threw the stick that I was using for my marshmallows down and stormed off into the bar to find my dad. My dad is overprotective, yes, but my brother Blake? Yeah, he’s worse. I think my dad left a lot of that on Blake, Zane, and Aidan to look after me when he was not around.
I scanned the bar until I spot him in the corner with one of the club whores on his lap. I narrowed my eyes at them and stalked over. When he noticed me, he tapped the plastic Barbie on the ass, signaling for her to get off.
“What’s up baby?” he asked, his demeanor changing to that of a loving father and less the vice president of a motorcycle club.
“I need to get out of here. I promise I’ll go straight home,” I lied.
“Get one of the boys to drop you off,” he said, as he picked up his drink.
I placed my hands on my hips like an annoying bratty child. “No, I have my car here. They’ve all been drinking and I’ll drive straight home.”
He looked at me, pausing his words for a second. “All right then baby, way you go.”
I smiled, wrapping my arms around him tightly. “Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”
The lines around his tired eyes wrinkled as a distressed look pulled across them. He knows I get my way. “Yeah, I love you too, baby.”
I turned my back on him and the rest of the table before I made my way outside, stopping in my tracks when he yelled out, “Speedy…straight home. I mean it. No passing Point Hellers.”
I kept my back turned to them when a smirk crawled up my face. “Of course not, Daddy. Straight home.”
Brat.
Brat.
Fucking brat.
I could see Aidan from the corner of my eyes, smirking a knowing smirk with eyebrows raised. I dropped my smile and ran out of the clubhouse before Blake could see me and put a stop to it.
Popping open my door, I started up my baby. By baby, I mean my 1987 BMW E30. She’s slammed down on eighteen-inch spokes and completely black, with black tints and black lights. Westbeach is a smallish town. Small, if you’re affiliated with the right people. The police knew that this was my car and left me alone for the most part because a lot of them were in the pockets of the MC. I can’t drive it outside of Westbeach though, I’ve tried and got slammed left right and center for all my illegal modifications. Never again.
She doesn’t just look pretty, though. Under her hood, she’s packing a 1UZ 4ltr Lexus V8 engine. You may have a little idea as to where I got my nickname ‘Speedy.’ I roared her to life, and pushed the clutch in, shifting it to reverse before pulling out through the high gates of the clubhouse.
I laughed, as I floored it to my best friend Melissa’s house. She always needed a ride whenever Parker and her fought. He always tried to leave her behind because Melissa is mischievous, to say the least. I pulled up to her house, beeping my horn. There’s no way I was going up to her door, her dad was probably drunk again. He can be inappropriate when he’d been drinking. I kept that to myself, though, if anyone ever found out about that, Melissa’s entire family would be taken out.
Her front door opened, and she walked out in a tight little mini skirt and a snugly fitting crop top with heels.
I laughed when she opened my car door. “And how the hell do you suppose you’re going to walk on the gravel in those?” I said, pointing down to her feet.
She tsked at my comment, brushing away her long brown hair. “I don’t intend on walking anywhere,” she said with a smile. Melissa and I have been friends since first grade. She had a major crush on my brother, but after many failed attempts of getting into his pants, she gave up.
“We doing the stop?” she asked. Stop, meaning a stop at my house before we left. I was currently dressed in the most unflattering clothes, but it was all I was allowed to wear when Blake was around.
“Definitely!”
On arrival at home, we walked into my small bedroom that sat on the top floor of our house. We weren’t rich, we were comfortable. My dad always made sure Blake and I had the best of everything, even if we didn’t have a lot of money. He bought my first car and carried out all the modifications to it. I’d emptied my savings account putting every single dollar into my car, all for the bigger picture, of course. Because now, I earned a quarter of what was in my savings in just one night.
“I’m going to raid your dad’s liquor cabinet,” Melissa said as she walked out of my room and back down to the living room. Only she would raid my dad’s stash, and because it’s her, he probably wouldn’t mind. He treated her like another daughter. Blake didn’t—Blake hated her. Zane didn’t care enough to acknowledge her existence, and Ade fucked her once then left her heart in tatters when he didn’t remember who she was the next day.
They’re all very charming boys.
I pulled on my tight jean cut-off shorts and a white tank top, pulling it down a little to show my bra, and matched it with a pair of heels—not as high as Melissa’s, but still high enough to shape my long legs. Glancing into the mirror, I looked at myself while fluffing up my long ash blonde hair that had natural highlights throughout and sat on my tailbone. I wouldn’t say I was beautiful—well, I don’t think I’m beautiful. I have been told I have sex appeal, so I don’t think that’s in the same category as beautiful. I applied some make-up, going a little heavy on
the eyeliner before taking one more look in the mirror. My eyes are chocolate brown framed with long thick eyelashes. The kinds that others pay a fortune to replicate. I sucked my cheeks in to show off my high cheekbones while I swiped the lip-gloss wand across my lips. The color blended nicely with my natural tan.
Melissa walked in, blowing out a wolf whistle. “Hot damn, girl.”
After gathering all our stuff, we got back into the BMW and sped off to Point Hellers. Point Hellers is a circuit that runs up and down the highest mountain in Westbeach. We met there at different times of the month when a text was sent out to the racers, and to the crowd who all met us there. It was dangerous—yes, but only if you didn’t know what you were doing. I did.
We roared up to the top of the mountain where everyone was waiting to race down and back up again.
“Holy shit, it’s packed tonight,” Melissa said from beside me as we pulled in. The headlights lighting the area up like a beacon against the twinkling of the city lights. Everyone moved out of the way for me, like always. I stopped, putting it into neutral and swung my door open. Getting out, I noticed everyone’s eyes on me and I could see the Barbie clan on the right side, all shooting daggers in my direction.
“Phoebe, you’re not wearing sneakers,” Cassie, the lead bitch snickered from her position. Her dark hair dead straight and her nails bright pink.
“Careful Cass, you might need to put an extra layer of gloss on those lips. Looks like you left the rest on Randle’s dick,” I replied innocently.
Randle and Cass had been sneaking around together for months. Randle was Bianca’s boyfriend and Cassie’s BFF.
Nothing quite like teen drama to set off a drag meet.
Cassie’s face turned bright red, and I looked over to Randle to see him shaking his head at me for getting him caught out. I shrugged and made my way to Pauly. Pauly’s the ringleader of the entire operation. He pulls together the people and the racers.