Losing Traction: Westbeach #1

  “You ready, Phoebs?”

  I nodded my head and smiled. “Of course.”

  He eyed me up and down slowly, his dark eyes hooded. I could see everything he wasn’t saying in his eyes. People had been saying that he’d been crushing on me since the first time I double clutched past him at the lights. I didn’t believe it, though. He was older than me.

  Why would he want anything to do with someone like me?

  I walked back to my car and looked over to Randle. “I’m racing you?” I asked him in disbelief. Randle is good, he’s experienced, and his Dodge Charger packed some major beef. But, I knew a Dodge Charger wasn’t the best thing to be riding on this circuit. You needed something loose and rear wheel drive that’d help you swing your ass around the corners with ease. The only way you got down this mountain and maintained your speed was by drifting. Drifting up the mountain was also ideal, but not everybody could do it. It took tremendous skill, something I’d mastered at the age of ten. We lived on a farm, so Blake and I had an old rust-bucket each. Mine was a Ford Escort old bomb, but it was rear wheel drive so I had a lot of fun ripping up our paddocks and learning how and when to pop up the handbrake.

  “Yeah, you might want to take them heels off those sexy legs, Phoebs,” he said with a smirk.

  I matched his grin and rounded my driver’s side door. “Oh honey, I’ll short shift myself out of here so fast in these heels, without so much as breaking my nail.” I batted my lashes at him and he smiled, getting into his beast and roaring her to life.

  I liked Randle, he was the school slut, but hey, I’ve been surrounded by men like that all of my life, it made no difference to me. But I wouldn’t ever be interested in seeing a guy like that.

  Unless it was Ade—that man made me question my own morals—he was that fine.

  I reversed out slowly and Melissa waved to me, blowing me kiss.

  Moving in line with Randle, running my eyes over him, I puckered up my lips. He laughed and shook his head before we both turned our attention back to the road. I revved my engine a few times, the smell of gasoline permeated the air and the rumble of my engine vibrated under my seat. A smile crept onto my lips as Barbie slut number three walked out in between our cars holding a flag, wearing a piece of material that barely counted as a skirt trying to cover her ass and an equally tiny crop top.

  I shook my head and idly wondered whether it would be acceptable for me to ask if I could get a guy with a six-pack wearing nothing but his briefs out there to be a grid guy. Somehow, I didn’t see that happening.

  “Ready?” She looked to Randle with a sultry smirk.

  I rolled my eyes again.

  “Ready?” she asked me quickly before untying her bra from under her top and throwing it into the air. “GO!”

  Dropping the clutch, I floored it forward as the Charger roared ahead of me. My car had enough power to keep the tires spinning, and it wasn’t long before our first corner. Once we reached it, I pulled up my emergency brake swinging my ass out and drifted around the corner with ease. I laughed when I could see in my rear-view mirror that Randle had to break back from me.

  What did he expect?

  I dropped it into second—because it’s the easiest for harnessing the engine’s torque—pushed in the clutch, turned the steering wheel into the corner, and pulled the emergency brake up again. I put the pedal to the gas, dropping the clutch and steered the direction into the slide, using the throttle to control the angle of the drift. I laughed again. The joy I got from racing and drifting was euphoric, it was better than sex. Well, the sex I had anyway.

  Once we hit the bottom of the mountain, I ripped up the handbrake and spun around, letting the tires smoke up before flooring it back up the mountain. I saw Randle coming the opposite way and I wound my window down, giving him a wink and blowing him a kiss. He laughed while shaking his head.

  Once I reached the top again, there was an enormous round of cheers. A smile pulled at my lips as my heart filled with joy and passion. Pushing in the clutch, I revved the engine enough before letting the clutch go and my back tires were spinning which caused clouds of smoke to form around us. I began circling, the ass end of my car created a perfect O on the pavement. I couldn’t see anyone outside of the smoke anymore, the smell of burned rubber was like my own personal brand of cocaine. I couldn’t imagine the day when I wouldn’t need this. I stopped, pulling up the emergency brake while waiting for the smoke to clear before stepping out of the car. The crowd went deathly silent at the rumble of Blake, Zane, and Ade pulling up on their damn Harley’s.

  “Oh fuck,” Melissa whispered under her breath while she walked up beside me.

  When I noticed the look on Blake’s face, I knew something must’ve been wrong. He looked tortured.

  “Hey! Before you start, Dad said I co—”

  “Fuck up, Phoebe. I don’t give a fuck about that right now. Dad’s been in an accident with Davey and Frank,” he said, the strain in his voice was apparent.

  “What? Oh my God! Is he okay?” I threw my hands up to my mouth and my breathing began to pick up. My dad would be okay, he had to be. He promised me he’d never leave me like my mother did.

  “Come on, we can do this at home…” Blake paused and shook his head slightly before taking my hand in his. I ran my eyes between the three of them who stood in front of me, and I just knew that this wasn’t good.

  “Tell me now!” I demanded, pulling my hand out of his grasp.

  “He’s dead, Speedy. All three of them didn’t make it.”

  “What?” I whispered out through the pain that was building in my throat. I dropped to my knees as all the air left my body and began hyperventilating. A strong pull dragged on my chest as tears poured freely, feeling nothing but pain. The next thing I felt was my brother lifting me into his arms, and him screaming orders to someone before my mind shut down and the darkness pulled me in deep.

  Three Months Later

  “How’s she doing?” I heard my Aunt Annabelle ask Blake. Aunt Annabelle was Zane’s mom. She took us in after the accident. Uncle Davey would be proud of how much she had picked everyone up after the accident. Aidan was always there too, his dad was Frank, the third person who was also killed in the accident. His mom was a mess and hardly took care of him. He was fifteen, though, and I guess he was going through his own issues judging by all his new tattoos and piercings.

  “Not good. She hasn’t eaten much, I want to get her out of here. Zane and I want to set her up in New York. She can go to a private school there. It’s the best thing for her.”

  I shook my head as I continued eavesdropping in on their conversation. No way—no more cars, no more Melissa, no more of what little freedom I had—no way.

  “I think that’s a good idea, Blake. Will you be okay running Rendon Construction on your own?” she asked. Rendon Construction was my father’s business.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Dad had a good foreman. I won’t need to do much.”

  I ran upstairs to my room and slammed the door closed. Pulling out a bag from my wardrobe, I emptied all my clothes out of my drawers and threw them in.

  This can’t be, I’d just lost my dad. My dad was my hero and my first love. I can’t live without him, he was my rock.

  Hearing my door open behind me and then close softly, I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

  “I can’t go, Blake. My life has changed too much already.” I swung around to face him, attempting to look at him, though with the condition of my eyes it looked like I was staring through the blurry vision of a warped window.

  He looked back, worried. “I’m sorry, Speedy. We need to do this for you. We need to get you out of here.” I shook my head again as the tears streamed out of my eyes faster. The door opened and in walked Zane and Ade.

  “Speedy, it’s going to be okay,” Zane assured me softly.

  I shook my head vigorously. “No, no it’s not,” I said while I wiped the tears from my cheeks, only for a fresh flow of
them to take their place. “He was my rock, he was my protector, he promised...” I dropped to the floor and clutched his Harley Davidson motorbike emblem in my hand. Blake had it made into a necklace last week. “He promised,” I whispered. “He promised he’d never leave me.” I cradled myself in the fetal position as Blake picked me up and pulled me into his chest with all three of them standing around me.

  “Shh, it’s okay, Phoebs. We promise you baby girl, we promise that nothing will ever happen to you. We will always watch over you,” Blake mumbled into my hair. I looked up to Ade and Zane, they both nodded their heads in agreement. I tucked my head back into the safe arms of my big brother. For once, I was grateful for the over protectiveness of him—all of them.

  Present Day

  Coming out from my flashback, I look over to the right of my overly large yard and see my pride and joy. My brother built my house, which is a modest three-bedroomed log style home. I love it. It’s warm, inviting, and everything I want in a place to call home. But what I really love, is the twenty-car garage I had him build for me on my property. Yep, you read that right—twenty-car garage. It’s bigger than my house, and it sits to the right of my backyard, with its own driveway down the side of my house.

  Pulling myself up off the grass, I dust off my pants while making my way over to it. I take my primary set of keys from my back pocket and unlock the door, opening it out wide and walking in. Flicking the lights on, instantly the illumination displays all my beauties. The entire bottom floor has a model of each of my favorite cars. There’s a loft that’s on the top also, but it’s mainly used for storage and extra car parts.

  My BMW still sits in here nicely. I haven’t been able to drive her since that night. I plan to get back in her one day, just not right now. The last time I was sitting in that car, I had my dad. I can’t push myself to sit there again, not yet anyway.

  After my inspection, I walk out of the garage and head back into my house just as Melissa is walking in. Melissa and I have always maintained our friendship over the years, although she never really left Westbeach. She’s doing really well for herself now and owns and cute boutique bakery in town.

  “Hey girl, when did you get back?” she asked, pulling me into her grasp.

  “Just about thirty minutes ago. I’m waiting for Blake to bring Shooter home,” I say as I make my way back to the kitchen to pour another wine and one for Melissa.

  “How are you doing? I won’t be home for long. I go on tour in two days.”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you. Who is it?” As she asked the question her marble eyes filled with excitement.

  “Alyx Munroe,” I mumble while rolling my eyes.

  “Holy fucking shit! I love her!”

  She would.

  “I don’t. She’s a diva. I didn’t want a damn diva queen.”

  “Phoebe, you’re in the fashion industry. You need to be a little more realistic.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Good thing it won’t be for long.”

  “Maybe you’ll find a hot French man?” she responds with a smirk.

  I laugh. “I doubt that. Haven’t you heard, I like the emotionally unstable ones?” I answer sarcastically. She laughs, throwing her head back.

  Dating has never really been something that holds my interest. I haven’t been able to date much, and no one has actually worked out for me. Except, one other guy, who probably doesn’t even remember me. Because, well, because he’s Ryder Oakley and he doesn’t remember much of anything let alone girls.

  The door opens up to Blake standing there and Shooter runs straight past his legs, full speed into me.

  “Hey boy, how’s it going?” I scratch behind his ears as he licks all over my hands.

  “He’s been fed, I gotta go. When are you leaving?”

  “In three days,” I say, eyes still locked on Shooter. “Thank you for looking after him.” Looking up at my brother, I adore him the same as I did when I was a younger, just now, I appreciate him more and understand where his over-protectiveness came from. It’s still annoying, though. You’d think that having Pipper, and with Vicky pregnant with twins, that it would keep the heat off me, but he still manages to lock me down the best he can. He’s annoying, to say the least.

  I stand from the floor, wiping the fur away from my pants. “How’s the circuit coming along?” I ask Blake.

  “Good, real good. Should be all done within the next couple months.”

  The circuit is a little—big—something I’m working on. I’ve always wanted to do it, and now I am. I purchased a huge section of land on the back end of my farm near the lake, and I’m having Blake put in one of the largest racing tracks in the state on it. The track will be in and around farmland, complete where only VIP members can come and bid against the most talented and hottest women racers from around the world. I already have a huge driver list, and the boys know a lot of people that want in too. It will be complete with a bar and seating area. It costs me a fortune to start up, but not as much as it would have if Blake weren’t doing all the work. I’ll be able to make the money back in the first few races. It’s like, racing for the elite. I mean, hey, people bid on horses all the time, which I do not condone. The statistics on what horses are put through prior to races is sickening. At least my girls have freedom of choice and I’m not pumping them with lord knows what. Anyway, I plan to do this for racers. It’s where I want to be, I don’t really want to be in fashion for long, it was just a side interest I picked up from growing up in New York after my dad died. Cars are my passion.

  “Okay, I’ll be back in time to do all the interior designs.”

  Melissa walks in with a drink in her hand. “Hey, Blake.”

  Blake grunts and I shake my head. He needs to learn how to play nice, Melissa’s never done anything wrong to him.

  The drive back to Hollywood was horrendous, the traffic was in full blast and I hated every minute of it.

  “Fucking move.”

  Did I mention my road rage?

  People who cannot drive for shit annoy me. I pull into the underground garage of my work ‘It’s Fashion.’

  How very average, right?

  Everything about this world somewhat annoys me, but it just so happens I’m good at it. However, just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.

  I swing open the frosted glass doors and walk past Samantha—the receptionist.

  “Hi, Phoebe! How was your break?” Samantha’s an intern, and suits working in this area. She’s a sweet girl, but she’s young and naive.

  “Hi Sam, three days is hardly enough time to call it a break. But yes, I enjoyed it, thanks.” I collect the papers she has sitting on her desk and she gets up from her seat, rounding the desk to stand in front of me. Her big blue eyes looking at me intently and her brown hair swept into an elegant bun.

  “Do you think I can come to the opening of The Circuit? I really, really, want to!” I pause my searching through papers, lift my eyes and tilt my head. I like her, I think we could probably be great friends and I love meeting new people as long as they’re loyal.

  “Sure thing, Sam. I’d better head to the lion’s den. I’m supposed to be collected by Alyx Munroe’s driver in…” I look down at my watch, “…one hour.”

  Sam claps her hands in excitement. “Where are y’all heading first?”

  Answering Sam first, “Madrid!” I then drag my sorry ass into Maree’s office.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I should be over the moon. But divas, really, really, annoy me. I’m not looking forward to biting my tongue for four weeks.

  “Shut the door, Phoebe. Sit.” I do as I’m told, turning and closing her door before sitting in the seat opposite her desk. Maree is a good friend, but a bossy bitch of a boss. I do love her, though, she’s straight forward and doesn’t sugar coat the truth, and I admire people like that.

  “Now, we’re all set? I have a few papers for you to sign, just a little glitch. I can send those to you via ema
il, and you can electronically sign them. Gotta love technology, right?” she rambles the whole sentence out so fast I didn’t quite catch the end.

  “Right, sounds good.” I nod to further my response.

  “Jackson!” she screams at her door and I flinch. Jackson, her PA, walks through stumbling around the mass of papers he’s holding. I hold back a laugh, and he narrows his eyes at me behind his chunky glasses.

  “Yes, ma’am, is everything okay?” I let out a light chuckle and he snaps his eyes to me, looking at me with a villainous stare. Jackson is new, I’ve met him a few times and he seems friendly enough.

  “Jackson, if you call me ma’am one more time, I will fire your ass. Get Belinda on the phone…now.” She snaps her fingers at him and he spins around, running out of her office.

  I laugh. “You can be so horrible.”

  “Oh please, he was up all night with his boyfriend. He needs to learn how to juggle work.”

  I shake my head and laugh.

  “Do you want a whiskey, love? I fear you may need it,” she asks, murmuring off the last part as she makes her way to her little beverage desk.

  I raise my eyebrows. “I fear I might too. Hit me.”

  I’m waiting outside my work holding my white leather suitcase and gripping onto my handbag, waiting for Alyx Munroe’s driver to arrive and take me to the private airport where I’ll be meeting her. When I see the sleek, black stretch limo pull up, I clutch onto my handbag a little tighter. The driver stops to a halt in front of me and gets out of the car.

  “Phoebe Rendon?” he greets me, his young face showing his baby features. He’s quite striking looking, for a young buck. I wonder to myself how he managed to snag a job like this at such a young age.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  He grips onto the handle, pulling my door open for me. “I’ll grab your bags ma’am,” he says as he rounds the car to pile all the bags in the car trunk.