Wreck Read online

  He got another beer then fell back on the stool. He twisted the cap off, knowing this story really required something stronger. He closed his eyes briefly before looking back at Mick.

  “I was nine. She snorted a line of coke. Chased it with a swig of whiskey, then shot up with heroine. Convulsed then died.”

  Mick’s tough exterior cracked, and pain etched into the weathered face. He got up, paced, and stroked his long goatee. “You saw it all?”

  Ethan nodded. What he didn’t tell his uncle was how she had foamed at the mouth and writhed so much she fell off the couch onto the trash that littered the floor. While his filthy ass sat crossed legged across the room doing nothing but gripping two broken toy cars in his hand.

  Mick looked up and took a deep breath. “Had I known about you, I would have taken you in.”

  Ethan believed him, but after growing up in foster home after foster home, the knowledge offered little comfort. And hell, he was twenty-four. He’d given up on the idea of family or home a long time ago. Survival. That’s all he knew.

  “I know,” Ethan said.

  Sorrow filled the man’s face. Ethan downed his beer. He didn’t want to hurt his uncle. He seemed liked a good guy, which was why he’d avoided talking about his mom. Or anything from his past.

  It was still weird to say he had an uncle, aunt, and a cousin. He wasn’t even sure he knew what family meant, and it was all kinds of awkward.

  “I think I’m gonna head up,” Ethan muttered.

  Mick nodded. When Ethan saw his watery eyes, he took off out the door. The last thing he wanted to see was that tough and gruff man break down. He’d barely caught a sob before he sprinted up the stairs to the door of the apartment. He hoped like hell he couldn’t hear his uncle cry through the floor.

  He shut the door and headed straight to the kitchen for a bottle of whiskey. He planned to get drunk. It was going to be the only way to drown out the nightmares tonight. Just as he reached for the bottle, his cell pinged. He dug it out of his pocket and stilled as he read the text.

  Now you have my number. Shelby. :)

  The image of soft, golden brown eyes and dark, auburn hair came to mind. He smirked, recalling her face as he dangled those mice. Which reminded him, he needed a shower after working in her yard all day, and he was supposed to head over to Thrand’s this evening.

  He put the whiskey back in the cabinet.

  The whiskey and nightmares could wait.

  He walked through the living room and stopped at Zak’s door. Luckily, the apartment had two bedrooms and even if tiny, it worked.

  He had lived in a hell of a lot worse.

  “Hey man, you in there?”

  “Yup,” was Zak’s muffled reply.

  He went into the bathroom, stripped, and hopped into the hot shower. He made quick work of getting clean then toweled off. Looking into the foggy mirror he tried to see himself through Shelby’s eyes. He didn’t know a lot about her, but if he guessed right, she was from some uppity people, even if she didn’t seem uppity herself.

  He got a certain kick out of shocking her. He’d never met anyone who treated him so fairly yet, at the same time, was so baffled by him. He only got one of two things. Either he was viewed as inferior or they ogled him like a lollipop. There was no in-between. Not that he minded being a lollipop from time to time—but it was refreshing to be perceived differently.

  Given enough time, she would see him like everyone else did. It was unavoidable. But for the moment, he enjoyed the puzzle that was Shelby Renner.

  Ethan and Zak drove his beater truck to Thrand’s place. Ethan liked the place, but it was small, and there had been more than a few complaints from the neighbors since they started practicing there. Thrand blew them off, but Ethan saw a problem brewing. They parked in the road in front of the house in time to see Cassie storm out the front door.

  Ethan got out and smiled. She glared.

  “Problems in Eden?” he asked.

  “Men. That’s my problem,” she shot back, then hopped in Thrand’s truck and sped away.

  “Let me know if Thrand still wants to talk.” Zak still sat in his truck, his expression bland. “No sense getting out if he’s preoccupied.”

  Ethan nodded and headed to the steps when Thrand opened the door and waved. “Come on guys.”

  Zak grabbed his bass, and they went inside.

  “You don’t need to chase Jailbait?” Ethan asked as they settled on the couch.

  “Naw. She’ll cool off,” Thrand replied.

  Who knew what they were fighting about? Those two were always at each other about something. That girl snapped fire, and he didn’t know how Thrand put up with it.

  Ryan stumbled in about that time, looking like he didn’t own a brush.

  “Hey guys. I miss anything?”

  “Nope. Just getting started,” Thrand answered and leaned back against the cushions. “Guys, I don’t know how far ya’ll want to go. Saturday was awesome. My phone has been ringing nonstop. Bars wanting to set up gigs, the other half cussing us for trying to pawn our music off as country. I’d say that’s a success.”

  “Fucking awesome,” Ryan said, grinning like a fool. “Let’s do it. Set us up, man.”

  “Hell, yeah.” Ethan tapped his leg with nervous energy and glanced over at Zak who nodded his head.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I would like to keep most of our gigs with Mick.” Ethan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, glancing around at the guys. “He’s my uncle, ya know. I owe it to him. I’m all down with other places, but I want Booseys to be our den.”

  “I see no problem with that. Mick was one of the first guys I met when I got here.” Thrand tossed a pad of paper on the coffee table. “This is a list of places who called. I say we go over it and mark off those that are a no go.”

  For the next hour or so they went over the details. For the first time, Ethan felt like he was part of something. The more he got to know Thrand and Ryan the more he recognized they weren’t all that different. Always being an outcast, there were very few people he was comfortable around. With these guys, he could let his guard down a bit.

  On a high, they all set off for Booseys to celebrate and talk to Mick.

  “If it isn’t DirtSlap!” Dooley gave them all fist-bumps and pats on the back. “That’s some music I can get into.”

  Ethan liked the guy, and it struck him as odd just how many people he’d met in the last few months that he actually did like. People who were not jacked up on one drug or another.

  “Thanks, man. My uncle here?” Ethan asked while the rest of the band went inside.

  “Yeah, he’s in the back.” Dooley gripped his arm and studied his face. “You got some of your mom in you.”

  Startled, Ethan dropped his chin. “You knew her?”

  “Sure I did. I grew up with Mick and Tracy.”

  Ethan nodded. He had nothing to add.

  “One day I’ll tell you about her.”

  “I know all I need to know.” So much for that high he’d been floating on.

  “I knew her when she was a sweet girl. She wasn’t always what you knew.” Dooley gripped his arm tighter, like he was begging for him to see his mom differently.

  Anger boiled through Ethan. Not at Dooley…at a mother who never gave a fuck about him. “Trust me when I say there was nothing sweet about my mother.”

  Dooley immediately released him, and Ethan walked in without looking back.

  He sat at the bar, away from the rest of the band. Angel placed a shot in front of him. He downed it without a word. She poured him another. He looked at his cousin.

  She was a beautiful girl, and had he been allowed to, they probably would have grown up together. He would know her. As it stood, she was a stranger.

  “You look like you need it.” She pointed to the shot.

  “Yup.” He downed the second shot.

  “Don’t let ghosts fuck with your head, Ethan.” She smiled, and it took him a moment.
She rarely smiled, but when she did, those stormy blue eyes warmed. “You’re not alone anymore. You’re family.”

  Had she kicked him in the gut, he couldn’t have been more surprised. She patted his hand and moved off to help other customers. He rubbed his thumb and fingers together in agitation.

  Not alone.

  Until he’d met Zak he had been alone. Him against the world. It didn’t matter he had been just a kid. Life had a way of kicking the shit out of you no matter how old you were. He glanced at the band who were laughing and joking as Shelby served them some beers and water.

  Her dark brown hair was in a braid over her right shoulder, and she wore the Booseys shirt with a skirt and cowboy boots. She spotted him and smiled. Some of the tension slipped away as she walked up to him.

  “I wondered where you were.” She cocked her head and peered at him closely. “You okay?”

  He nodded. She grimaced but said nothing more.

  “Thanks again for your work today. The yard looks so great.” She turned her back to the bar and leaned on her elbows. The light in her eyes danced, and she rocked on her heels like a kid. Except there was nothing kidlike in the way she was built. And those lips always looked as though she’d just put gloss on. Shiny and wet. Always tempting him.

  “No problem. Just doing my job.”

  Her lips curled charmingly then her nose wrinkled as a few new customers came in. “Guess I better get back at it.”

  She walked off, her short skirt swaying. She’d seemed more at ease with him. Earlier she’d been as jumpy as a cat. But now, she just talked to him like she was his friend.

  There it was again. Words he was unfamiliar with.

  Friends. Family.

  He shoved up and strode over to the band. “Hey, I’m gonna go talk to Mick.”

  “You got it,” Thrand replied.

  Angel pointed him to the back office. The door was slightly ajar, so he just knocked once and pushed it open and wished like hell he hadn’t.

  Mick was sitting in the office chair behind a desk, elbows on his knees, his head drooping forward while he gripped something in his hand. Dana, his wife, stood behind him rubbing his shoulder.

  “Sorry.” Ethan was one step out when Mick looked up.

  “Ethan. Stay.” His uncle’s face was haggard, and Dana looked worried.

  “This looks like a bad time. I’ll come back later.”

  “No, boy. It’s fine. You stay.”

  The air was thick with grief, and Ethan had a horrible suspicion it had everything to do with his mom. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stood stock still, steeling himself for whatever they thought they needed to say.

  “I loved my sister, but she ran off to see the world with a bunch of friends. She stayed in touch for a while, but eventually it tapered down to nothing.” Micks’ words were strangled, and he wiped at his eyes.

  He did not want to fucking hear this or see this. But he said nothing and looked at his feet.

  “Here is a pic of her right before she left. I thought you might like to have it.” Mick slid it across the desk to him.

  Ethan made no move to take it or look at it.

  “Don’t you want something of your mother’s?” Dana asked. Concern laced her voice.

  He looked her in the eye. “No.”

  Her shocked face didn’t faze him.

  “But why not? She was your mother.”

  “Why would I want something of hers, when she never wanted me?”

  “She never wanted you?” Mick leaned back in his chair, his brows rising high on his forehead. “I can’t believe it. The drugs may have warped her and screwed her up, but—”

  “Trust me. She didn’t fucking want me. Told me every day how I ruined her life.” Oh yeah, the nightmares were going to be so awesome tonight. He curled his fists and forced himself to breathe. He would not lose it in front of his aunt and uncle.

  “I’m so sorry, Ethan,” Dana stammered.

  He glared at the wall, refusing to look at Mick. Ignored their pity.

  “We’re your family. We want you here. In our lives.” Mick stood. “Ethan, boy, look at me.”

  Ethan whipped his glare to Mick. Being called ‘boy’ brought out all his ugly. “I’m no one’s boy. You can’t fix twenty-four years of screwed up in a few months…if ever. You don’t know it all. I don’t want you to know it all. I know you loved your sister, but that isn’t the woman I knew. And I don’t care how she was before me. What would be the point? I know my reality, and it’s all kinds of psycho.”

  Fury boiled in high doses, and it unleashed what he tried so hard to keep under wraps. “I came in here to talk about music. As far as I’m concerned, the topic of Tracy is dropped. I didn’t come to Nashville to be interrogated.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s not what we’re trying to do.” Dana’s gold eyes brimmed with tears.

  “No?” Ethan began to pace the short span in front of Mick’s desk. “Seems to me you’re digging for shit you don’t really want to know. Trust me, if you knew, you’d would wish you didn’t.”

  “Okay, Ethan. We get it—”

  “But Mick, he needs—”

  “Space, Dana. He needs space.” Mick looked at Dana then back at him. “Know we are here, got it son? You’re not alone anymore. Go ahead and go.”

  Rage coursed through him. He banged out of the office so hard the door bounced on its hinges. Mick understood. He saw it, but Ethan was too mad to care. He stormed into the bar area in time to see some asshole customer put his hand up Shelby’s skirt.

  In a blur of red haze, he rushed in and shoved the guy so hard he fell backwards out of the chair and onto the floor. He grabbed his collar, lifted him up, and shoved him against the brick wall leaving his feet dangling. He slammed him again, and a few pictures crashed to the floor. Broken glass crunched beneath his feet.

  “I should break your fucking hand.”

  “I’m sorry. Dude, I didn’t know she was yours,” asshole said, panic in his eyes.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He shook the dude like a rag doll. “Women deserve respect, you fucker.”

  He was about to knock him out, when Dooley grabbed his arm.

  “I got it.”

  “He’s going down man,” Ethan growled.

  Arms pulled at him from behind. Ethan turned and swung, barely missing Thrand and Zak.

  “Easy man. Dooley’s got it taken care of,” Zak said and took several steps back.

  Breathing hard, his gaze found Shelby’s wide-eyed stunned expression.

  Without a word, he shot out the back into the alley behind the bar. He heard Shelby calling his name, but he didn’t stop. The ringing in his ears screamed as memories crashed around him. His mind spun in circles until he couldn’t breathe.

  “Ethan!” Shelby’s voice was loud through the chaos.

  “Go away, Shelby.” Ethan kept moving. Had to keep moving. He didn’t need another fucking lecture.

  “Ethan, please!”

  “What?” He whirled around.

  She slowed to a stop several paces from him. She opened her mouth then shut it and clenched her hands in her skirt.

  “What do you want?” He waited, but she said nothing. Just stared at him. He turned his back on her.

  “Thank you.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. His mind trying to wrap around what she’d said. Confused, he faced her. “What?”

  She took a few steps toward him. He could see her better in the light from the overhead pole. She didn’t appear afraid, which astonished him even more.

  “I said thank you,” she said softly.

  He had been sure she was going to demand answers. Press him for information; ask him why he was so angry. Or be pissed at him for being pissed. Any other reasonable female would do just that. He cocked his head, trying to figure her out.

  “For what?”

  “For standing up for me.”

  Chapter 5

  He blinked. Surely, he was seeing thin
gs. Hearing things. Her big eyes and simple words calmed some of his storm. He breathed, stepped forward, and placed both hands on either side of her face. The trust he saw in those eyes undid him.

  His lips slammed on hers. Her hands gripped his wrists and held on tight. Those incredibly soft lips opened for him, and her tongue met his halfway. Hungry for what she gave and more, he wasn’t nice. Or kind. She whimpered, and her body leaned against his.

  He poured all his anger into the kiss. To drive out all thought and replace it with the feel of her lips parting for him. He was rough, but her gasps weren’t from pain. Not when her tongue slid perfectly along his.

  He couldn’t get enough. She lured him. Tempted him every time she bit that lower lip. She tasted like fucking berries. Fresh. Sweet. He broke the kiss, rested his head on her forehead, and closed his eyes. He inhaled a scent he couldn’t name but fit her perfectly.

  Classy. Sensual.

  Shelby.

  His fingers skimmed across her cheek. So soft. Everything about her was soft. He opened his eyes and stared into her face. Her lips were swollen, her lids heavy.

  “You’re too damn good for me, darlin’.” His thumb skated across her lower lip, and he gave her one light kiss. “Don’t wear skirts to work, okay?”

  “Right. Yup. Got it.” She fumbled over the words, her breath heavy against his.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He let her go, but she wouldn’t release his wrists.

  “You need to go in, Shelby.”

  Indecision flickered over her face, and then she laced her hands around his neck and pulled him down. Her lips landed on his briefly before she stepped away.

  “Be okay,” she ordered.

  He didn’t get a chance to answer before she was gone, running toward Booseys’ back door. Her words rolled around in his head and mixed with everything Mick had said.

  Ethan woke up swinging and jerked to awareness. He immediately rubbed his eyes.

  They were still there. They hadn’t taken his black devil eyes.

  He exhaled and kicked at the covers that twisted around his legs. Dropping his feet to the floor, he leaned forward into his hands. Sweat beaded on his skin while he shook. He could still see the glint of the sharp knife they intended to use. He gritted his teeth, willing the nightmare away.