Hard to Break Page 13

  “Fine,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “But we will be talking about this.”

  I don’t get the chance to answer him, because a text flashes on the screen of my phone.

  T—Where r u?

  Oh no, he does not get to text me when he’s ready to acknowledge that I exist.

  I reply before thinking.

  Q—Eat a giant DICK

  Jace snort laughs and I look up to see he’s reading my message. I snatch my phone away and glare at him. “Uncool, Jace.”

  “It’s funny though.” He smirks. “I can just imagine that will go down well.”

  Just as he finishes his sentence, my phone rings. Tazen’s name flashes on the screen and I let it go to voice mail before typing out another text.

  Q—Perhaps one dick isn’t enough for you, as it would appear one vagina certainly isn’t. I know! Go and eat TWO giant dicks.

  Jace roars with laughter, leaning back in his chair. “You’re evil and I love it.”

  I laugh, unable to hold it back. My phone buzzes and I glance down to see Tazen has texted again.

  T—Where the fuck r u?

  He doesn’t find my texts funny.

  Q—Eating giant dicks.

  I smirk as I wait for his response.

  It doesn’t come.

  Someone is angry. Good. I hope he’s angry. I hope I piss him off. I hope he feels desperate. Those are all the things he made me feel tonight, when he kicked me out as though I was no more than a quick fuck.

  I turn my phone off and look up to Jace. “I really have to go. I’ll call you during the week and we’ll go out.”

  He smirks up at me, nodding at the same time. “Yeah, honey. No worries.”

  I wave with a big grin. “Later, Jace.”

  “Later.”

  * * *

  I arrive at home and see the lights are out inside. That either means Dad is asleep or he went out. I hope he’s asleep. I really do. I’m not in the mood for him tonight. I walk up my front steps in the darkness. “Where were you?”

  I scream at the sound of the voice coming out of the darkness. I spin around to see a shadow in the corner of my porch. I know it’s Tazen, but him standing in the dark at my house is just weird.

  “What the hell?” I cry, clutching my chest. “Why are you standing in the corner of my porch, in the dark, like a creeper?”

  He grunts. “Because you wouldn’t have stopped if you saw me waiting.”

  “That’s disturbing.”

  I walk towards the front door but he stands in front of it, blocking me off. “We need to talk.”

  “No,” I say, trying to reach around him. “We don’t.”

  He takes my hand and curls his fingers around it, stopping me from going any further. “We do.”

  “No,” I say, jerking backwards. “We don’t. You made it very, very clear where I stood tonight.”

  “You don’t understand the situation, Quinn. If you did you would know that what I did was the best way to handle it.”

  “Oh.” I laugh bitterly. “You mean tossing me out like a cheap hooker when your girlfriend came in?”

  “She isn’t my fucking girlfriend,” he grunts.

  “Well, I’m sorry, when your lady of the night came in and treated me like shit.”

  “There’s a lot about Sheyenne you don’t know. I was doing what was best.”

  “You’re right,” I say, stepping back. “I don’t know and I don’t want to know. We made a mistake doing this. We should have never taken it past professional. It needs to stop. Tonight proved that.”

  Tazen moves quickly, wrapping his arms around my waist and spinning me so my back is flat against my front door. He leans down close, and even though I can’t see him, I can feel his breath tickling my face. “We are not ending any-fucking-thing.”

  “Ah yes,” I say, pushing at his chest. “We are.”

  “No,” he grunts, shoving my hands down. “We’re not.”

  “Jesus, Tazen, you treated me like a cheap whore and now you’re asking me to just understand and play happy lover.”

  He growls.

  “Don’t you growl at me,” I warn.

  “I wouldn’t if you weren’t acting like a fucking brat. Let me open my mouth and speak for long enough for me to tell you about Sheyenne.”

  I reach back and curl my fingers around the door handle. Then I lean into his face. “I don’t want to know about Sheyenne. Good night, Tazen.”

  I open the door quickly, doing a stealthy side slide in and slamming it shut. I lock it and press my back against it, breathing a sigh of relief. Tazen pounds on it, warning me that if I don’t open it, he won’t be happy. Join the club, buddy. I know I should probably hear him out, but I’m hurt and not ready yet.

  I push off the door and walk through the darkness towards my room, passing Dad’s as I go. He’s in his bed, sound asleep and snoring. Thank god. I continue on to my room and when I get in I go straight to my bed without turning the light on. I kick my shoes off, strip down to my bra and panties and slide under the covers. My phone buzzes with a text and I glance down at the screen.

  T—This isn’t over, angel. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.

  Q—No you won’t. I’m taking a job on the corner.

  I smirk at my comeback, even though I know it’ll piss him off.

  T—Every time you smart mouth me, I’m going to add it up. Then I’m going to fuck you until every single remark is gone from my mind, and yours.

  Q—Ohh, I’m scared.

  T—Tomorrow, Quinn. Don’t be late.

  Q—What are you going to do? Fire me?

  T—Tomorrow.

  He’s no fun, really he isn’t.

  Tomorrow should prove to be interesting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’m under the engine, tinkering with it when I hear Tazen’s voice fill the garage the next afternoon. He’s been missing in action all day. Rick said he has business meetings, but personally I think those meetings start with an S and end with an E. That woman’s sudden appearance has put Tazen off guard and made me wonder why. He’s usually so cool, calm and collected but since she entered the picture, he’s on edge.

  I want to know their story but I’m still not ready to forgive him for treating me the way he did, so it’ll have to wait for another day. I don’t roll out from underneath the car when I hear him ask where I am. I just keep doing my work, knowing he’ll head over and no doubt demand something of me. I’m right, because a moment later a booted foot hits my slider and he pulls it out, taking me with it. I glare up at him, waving my spanner around. “I could have been doing something important.”

  “You weren’t. Get up, we need to talk.”

  I kick his foot off and slide back under the car. “No, thanks.”

  With a grunt, he slides me back out. “I don’t have time for your games today, Quinn.”

  “Oh,” I laugh. “You don’t have time? Well you should have thought about that before you stuck your dick in me and then treated me like shit.”

  I kick his leg again, but he doesn’t pull it back. “I’m warning you,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, you are?”

  He glares at me.

  “I’m busy, Tazen.”

  “And I’m your fucking boss.”

  “No you don’t,” I say, my voice getting hard. “You don’t pull that role when you want something, or I’ll pull the ‘you shouldn’t fuck employees’ card. We don’t want to go down that road, so drop it.”

  “I just want to talk to you. Fuck, woman, do you always have to be so difficult?”

  I think about that, then nod and slide under the car. “Yes, yes I do. Good day, boss.”

  With a frustrated growl, he mutters, “I have shit I have to do tonight, Rick. Don’t know if I’ll be around in the morning. You open.”

  He’s got shit to do.

  My interest is piqued.

  “No worries, boss,” Rick says.

  “If Mu
rray calls, I might be out of service. Tell him I’m on my way.”

  I jerk. Murray. Now I’m very interested. I slide out from underneath the car to see Tazen disappearing out the front door. I get up quickly and turn to Rick. “I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment. Shit.”

  He gives me a look that tells me he absolutely does not believe my story, but nods and says, “Whatever, we’re done for the day.”

  I nod and rush out, coveralls still on, and see Tazen’s car pulling out onto the street. I jump in my Mustang and reverse out as quickly as I can. I get onto the road and see Tazen’s car four spots ahead. I keep my eye on him as we move through the afternoon traffic. I want to know where he’s going tonight. I want to know what Sheyenne and Murray are doing. I’m also a little too proud to ask because I basically rejected him when he tried to tell me. Besides, this way is more fun.

  As we move out of town, the traffic clears and the sun begins to set. That’s perfect for me because then Tazen is less likely to recognize my car. We seem to be going further west, closer to the next town. Why would Tazen need to go a town over? He’s up to something, I just have no idea what it is. As the sun continues to go down, we go further and further out of town until the traffic thins out and there are only a few cars on the road.

  When the sun finally ducks down behind the trees and the night sky spreads itself out, I see we’re finally coming to a stop. Tazen pulls off down a long road and I give it a few minutes before I follow him, not wanting to seem suspicious. As I move down, I see bright lights ahead. We’re well off the road now, and as we move closer, I see why. I know exactly what this is. I’ve watched The Fast and the Furious …

  Racing.

  Illegal racing.

  This kind of racing is dangerous and is highly frowned upon. I pull my car over a fair way down and get out. I start walking up the long road to the masses of people and revving engines. There are a good two hundred people here, all betting illegally. They’re making money, and they’re probably getting a good amount if they win. I can’t see Tazen any longer, but I blend well in the groups of people.

  “You betting tonight, girly?”

  I turn at the voice coming from my left. I see a young, lean man smiling at me. He’s got flaming red hair and blue eyes. He holds out the massive pot of cash he’s collecting. “Ah, betting?” I say.

  “Yeah, on the race. Big share if you get it right.”

  I nod, and then glance around before taking a risk and saying, “Is Sheyenne racing tonight?”

  For a moment, the man stares at me like I’ve lost my marbles. Oh God, is she not a racer? I had a feeling she was, because she seems involved in all of this from the conversations I’ve heard between Tazen and Murray.

  “You want to bet on Sheyenne?”

  Okay, I wonder why he’s suspicious about that. He doesn’t seem to like the idea at all. Is she a shitty racer? Only one way to find out.

  “Sure,” I say casually.

  He shrugs and then says, “Fine, your loss.”

  My loss. Why would it be my loss? I decide to prod a little further.

  “You don’t like her?”

  He snorts. “No one fucking likes her. She’s a cheat and she’s crazy. She smashes up so many cars in fits of rage that I honestly wonder why they continue getting her more. But,” he says, leaning in close. “When her head is screwed on, the woman is a maniac on the track. She’s worth every penny if she wins. The problem with Sheyenne is nobody knows what kind of mood she’s in, so they don’t want to risk putting money on her.”

  Interesting.

  “Well, I’ll take the risk.”

  I hand some cash over and he hands me a little sheet with information on it in case Sheyenne does win. I thank him and then push closer to where the loud roaring of engines is coming from. I step out of the crowd and see six cars lined up on an old racing track. Now that I think of it, I remember there being a track out this way that isn’t being used anymore. It’s perfect for this kind of thing.

  I study each and every car, and they’re all impressive. Some more so than others. I can tell right away which ones are home jobs, and which have been done by a professional like Tazen. My eyes reach a sleek, orange car with purple flames licking up the side and I see Tazen standing beside it with his hand on the roof, leaning down and talking to whoever is in it.

  My guess? It’s Sheyenne.

  I see Murray standing beside him, and two other men. Tazen leans back, waves his hands around and barks something. The car door swings open and Sheyenne launches herself out, waving her hands around too and getting in his face. He grabs her by the wrists and pins them behind her back, slamming her against the car. Confusion swells in my belly, still unsure about what this girl means to him.

  He says something else, then he pulls back and has a set of keys in his hands. He’s taking her keys. I watch from my higher spot in the crowd, as he pushes her out of the way and gets into the car. Then it’s taking off with a growl so low I have to clench my legs together. Tazen hammers the car around the lap with a few other people who are warming up. Knowing it’s him inside that car has a certain warmth building between my legs. I’d love nothing more than to see Tazen Watts racing.

  I take my eyes off the car for a second, to see Sheyenne having a shit fit, getting in Murray’s face and throwing a seriously childish tantrum. Maybe that guy was right, maybe she is crazy. She seems to have dramatic mood swings, and clearly when they’re bad, they’re … bad. My attention is taken from her when Tazen comes to a screeching stop, the car fishtailing to the side before correcting itself.

  He gets out and goes right around to the hood, lifting it up. Something is wrong with the engine. My palms itch, because I want to go over there and check it out. I know this is all very wrong, but there’s an atmosphere here that is truly thrilling. It’s dangerous and edgy, it’s living on the dark side. I like it, as much as I hate to admit it. What worries me the most, however, is that Tazen could lose everything by being involved in illegal racing. It surprises me that he is allowing that risk to be a part of his life. He’s worked so hard for what he’s created. It seems like a silly thing to put it all at risk for.

  I lean closer to the railings and watch as all the drivers prepare their cars. Tazen is busy under the hood, and Sheyenne is leaning against the car still carrying on about something. The final five minutes is called and Tazen doesn’t move from under that hood. When the racers are told to take their places, Tazen steps out and slams it shut. He says something to Sheyenne and she simply snatches the keys out of his hand and gets into the car.

  Panic rises in my chest. Is she going to race a car that’s not fit for racing? The way Tazen is now yelling at Murray, it would appear she is. I chew on my bottom lip as the girl with her checkered flags walks out onto the track. We can’t hear a thing over the roaring of the engines, but when she raises her flags and then drops them, no words need to be said. The cars screech off, smoke pouring from their back ends.

  Adrenaline and excitement run through my veins, and my skin prickles with delight as I watch the cars hit the corners, sliding perfectly around them and picking up speed on the flats. Beautiful. I rub the little bumps forming on my arms over watching this racing. There’s a certain thrill that comes with watching a car in all its glory, rumbling and growling like a wild, uncaged animal.

  I turn my eyes to Sheyenne’s car, and see she’s actually holding well so far. She’s hugging the corners and picking up speed on the flats. The crowd is roaring, and the atmosphere has become electric. I close my eyes and take in the deep, barking sounds of the cars and the way those sounds travel through my body. As they pass us on lap one, the zooming sound of each car speeding past has my body coming alive.

  I can’t help it.

  I start screaming with the crowd. After that everything explodes. People become frantic, the cars pick up speed and the roar of the crowd and engines combined is a sound I’ll never forget. The cars hit their final lap and I
cross my fingers, watching Sheyenne taking the lead. They’re right, she’s an amazing driver when her head is screwed on the right way for the night. She’s got talent and she’s got skill.

  Then her car makes a loud explosion and my head jerks to see her spiraling out of control. My eyes widen and I find myself jumping over the railing in a frenzy as the car spins and then slams into the railings at the side of the track. The crowd goes silent and real panic spreads through. It’s an illegal race, which means paramedics aren’t here. It’s a risk, but it’s a risk you take when doing something illegal.

  I run towards the car, which is smoking. Sheyenne climbs out of it and I sigh in relief. She’s fine. This becomes clear when she starts laying into the car, kicking and punching it like a maniac. I reach the car and her eyes find me and widen. Then she spits. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Then we’re surrounded by people. Voices call out and arms start grabbing. It’s chaos.

  “Get the fuck back!”

  That’s Tazen.

  “Move or I’ll use force.”

  Murray.

  The people back off and then Tazen and Murray come into view. Tazen’s eyes flick to me and flare with rage and confusion, but most of all with concern. I ignore him and turn to the smoking car. The loud sounds of the other cars can still be heard as they complete their final lap. I rush over to the hood and pop it. Grey smoke bellows out and I start coughing as I wave it away.

  “You let me drive a dud,” Sheyenne screeches.

  “I didn’t fucking let you drive anything. You took the keys even after I told you not to,” Tazen barks.

  “Your cars are meant to be the best, this shouldn’t have even happened.”

  I ignore them, as I start frantically checking over everything. The color of the smoke indicates an oil leak that has possibly gotten into parts of the car it shouldn’t. This can easily cause an engine fire. Sheyenne is stupid for getting in after Tazen told her not to. I manage to clear some of the smoke. I need something to cover my hand so I can check the engine. Left with little choice, I unbuckle my coveralls, hold them at my waist and remove my tank top from underneath them.