Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2) (2 page)

It was a nice neighborhood. Expensive cars, manicured gardens, big fancy houses with designer dogs peering out windows.

She glanced up to the second floor. The curtains were drawn, but she could see the light on behind them. Bright enough the racing cars printed on the fabric were visible from the outside. Noah would be in bed, reading. Clutching one of his books, letting the story take him away to somewhere wonderful, somewhere he didn’t have to live with a prick of a stepfather and an equally wicked stepmother. Somewhere Noah and Darcey could be together again.

A stray tear surprised her, streaking a hot path down her cheek, and she dashed it away.

Tears were pointless.

Until she could think of a way to get Len to let her have regular visits with her brother, she had to rely on Al and the control he had over their stepfather. She had to stay under Al’s thumb.

She blew a kiss toward his window, started her car, and got out of there before Len saw her and lost his shit completely.

“Night, Noah,” she whispered.

~ * ~

Joe Colton could feel those dark, bewitching eyes burning into the back of his goddamn head—like two laser beams trying to drill their way into his skull and fry his brain. She was doing a fucking good job of it, too. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate with her parked across the street, watching his every move?

Darcey Connors had become the bane of his existence…

“Ow! Motherfucking shit!”

Adam turned to him and snorted. “You’re supposed to use a wrench to undo the bolt, not smash your thumb to pulp.” The prick took the wrench from Joe’s hand and held it in the air, demonstrating. “See? It’s easy.”

“Eat shit.” Joe snatched it back and ignored the irritating bastard.

In the last few weeks, Adam had become more annoying than normal while his brother Hugh had been walking around like he had fucking clouds for shoes. Shay, his new fiancée, had his brother whipped, and the idiot loved every second of it.

Joe’s feelings on love and relationships aside, he was ecstatic for the guy. Everything had worked out. Hugh had gotten the girl, and Joe had taken on their father’s debt. His brother and Adam were none the wiser. They could live in ignorant bliss. No debt, no more boosting cars, and no more being tied to Al Ramirez. And that’s the way it needed to stay. Hugh had put himself on the line enough for their family. And Adam… Well, this wasn’t his fight. It wasn’t his useless, waste-of-space father that had left his family drowning in gambling debts.

Joe glanced over his shoulder and gritted his teeth. It was thanks to the deceitful, little saboteur sitting a short ways down the street—watching him from her beaten-to-shit Toyota—that he’d been able to convince Al to lay the debt on him and him alone. Ironically, it was also her fault he still owed that fucker in the first place. Well, Joe had turned the tables on her. He’d tailed her for several days, and when the police had been closing in, minutes from catching her red-handed with her ass in someone else's car, he’d gotten her out.

Al had agreed to his terms. As long as he still had one of the Colton brothers boosting for him, which had been his goal all along, he was happy.

It would be a lot easier without his fucking shadow, though. The woman sucked at stealth. Every job he’d done since, she’d been there, watching him. Why Al still had her following him, he had no idea, but it was starting to make him bat-shit crazy.

The tingle at the back of his neck intensified.
Goddammit
. He growled, pissed at himself.

Pissed that her gaze wasn’t the only thing he was feeling when it came to her. The memory of her soft body, flush against his, hadn’t let up since he’d had her pressed against that wall. Neither had the sound of her husky moans when he’d thrust his tongue into her sweet-as-candy mouth and fucking devoured it…

“Jesus.” He threw the wrench into the tool box beside him and scrubbed his hands over his cropped hair.

Adam slid out from beneath the car he was now working under. “Yes, my disciple,”

“Shut it.”

“You realize talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, right?”

“You realize if you say one more stupid comment, I’m going to shove my foot up your ass, right?”

Hugh strode out of the office, brows hiked high. “When the fuck did this happen? Is it Freaky Friday or some shit? It’s like you’ve switched brains.” He crossed his arms, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. Adam’s supposed to be the grouchy, broody one, and Joe’s the smartass.” He pointed at Adam. “Get fucking brooding, would you? And it’ll be my foot in your ass, baby brother, if you don’t crack a goddamn joke in the next”—he glanced up at the clock on the wall—“five minutes. Go.”

Adam scowled. “You can talk. You’re the one walking around like fucking birds and butterflies and girly hearts are floating around your fat head.”

Joe snorted. “You’re whipped, bro. It’s a fucking disgrace.” Joe didn’t mean a word of it, of course. He loved Shay. But he couldn’t ignore his duty as a brother. Giving Hugh hell was all part of the gig.

Hugh grunted. “Bullshit.”

“No shit.” Joe shut the Subaru’s hood. “You’re an embarrassment to men everywhere.”

“You assholes can mock me all you like, but just you wait. The right girl will come along and knock you on your ass. Then we’ll see who’s whipped.”

Adam shook his head. “Never happen.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Hugh smirked. “I was delusional like you once.”

Adam scowled, shook his head, then lay back down on the trolley, and slid under the car.

Joe cleaned his hands on a rag. “I’m going to get lunch. This conversation has moved in a direction I’m not comfortable with. Next you’ll have us discussing flower arrangements for the church.”

Hugh crossed his arms. “We’re not getting married in a church. We thought a fall wedding would be nice, you know, outside, when all the leaves have changed color…”

“Annnd, I’m out.” Joe headed out the front, and through the main garage door.

The crappy, white Toyota was still there, in its usual spot. He took the stairs to his apartment above the garage. He could see her sitting in the driver’s seat, hunched, ball cap pulled low. You’d think being as good of a car thief as she was, she’d make a decent spy. Not so much.

He was close to walking over there and confronting her, but until he worked out Al’s angle—why he had her tailing him—he needed to be cautious. He couldn’t risk getting up close and personal with Al’s little niece. If she went running to her uncle, things could get a whole lot more difficult for him. He didn’t need any more trouble. Things were already on the south side of shitty.

Still, as he took the last step, the urge to go over there, drag her out of her car, press her against it, and demand she tell him what the fuck she thought she was doing, became almost uncontrollable. Not to mention how just the thought of having her pressed up against him again had his dick trying to bust a hole through the front of his jeans.

Christ
. He needed to stop thinking like that. Not about that deceitful bitch.

He fucking despised her.

He just wished he didn’t want her so damned much.

Chapter Two

D
arcey cracked her neck and shook out her hands to relieve some of the tension thrumming through her, like she was a boxer waiting for the bell to sound. That’s how she felt—how she always felt—when she came to Len’s. Like she was about to do battle. Blowing out an angry breath, she stabbed at the little, white button by the door with more force than necessary.

The doorbell wasn’t one of those types that buzzed or rang; it was an obnoxious tune that seemed to go on for freaking ever. It got on her goddamn nerves. Definitely did nothing to calm them. Darcey cursed under her breath, shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, and braced.

The door opened a few seconds later, a waft of sickly, gag-inducing perfume hitting her before she even got a look at the bitch standing behind it. Edith had been a model before she married Len, or so she’d said. Darcey could admit the woman did have the body for it, long and lean with fake tits out to
here.
But her nasty personality shone though. No amount of makeup or plastic surgery could cover that kind of ugly.

Edith’s eyes narrowed, that ridiculous trout mouth pursing. “What the hell are you doing here, Darcey?”

Darcey automatically planted her feet. She wasn’t going any-damn-where. No one was keeping her from Noah. Not again. Not when she hadn’t seen him in nearly a month—punishment from Al for nearly getting caught by the cops the night Joe saved her ass—and she wasn’t waiting another damn day.

“Al said I could see him today. You got a problem with that? Take it up with him.”

Edith’s spray tan darkened until she was flat-out red. The other woman hated that Al was in charge and that Len did whatever his big brother told him. Len may have been a stupid son of a bitch, but he wasn’t
that
stupid. Going up against Al could earn him a stay in a pine box, destination, six-feet under. He knew it, too. Edith could only see dollar signs and the fact she wasn’t getting what she believed was their cut. The woman was dense—dumb as a box of rocks—if she thought Len could handle the family business. But that’s what Edith wanted, and she’d been like a buzzard waiting to pick over bones since Al had gotten sick.

No one knew how sick he was—if he would get better or not. But all Darcey cared about was how a power shift would affect her and Noah. And as much as she’d wished Al dead and buried, many, many times, she had the mindset of
better the devil you know.
Len and Edith, though she knew they were assholes, were an unknown quantity. To put them in a position of power…

She inwardly shuddered.

Not good any way you looked at it.

All this worry was for nothing, though, because she was pretty damn sure Al Ramirez was indestructible. Like a roach. He’d be around forever, just so he could make everybody’s lives miserable.

The bitch pointed a glossy, candy apple red-tipped finger at Darcey, almost taking her goddamn eye out. “You go straight upstairs and stay there until your hour is up, you hear me? I have friends over. I don’t want them seeing you. I mean…look at you.”

Her squinty gaze raked over Darcey, eyeing her boots, worn skinny jeans, and her green shirt with
Elliot’s Plumbing
scrawled across her chest. She’d come straight from work so she wouldn’t miss any of her time with her brother, which meant she probably smelled like a toilet, since her last job for the day was unblocking one.

Darcey straightened, glowering at the bitch, because really, she didn’t give a shit what this idiot thought of her.

Edith smirked. “Thrift shop chic may have been your mother’s style, but really, you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

The woman took a shot at Darcey’s mother whenever she got the chance. Usually, Darcey let it wash right off. Today, though, not so much. She gave the older woman a head to toe. “Yeah, and the slut pageant, porno Barbie look is pure class.”

Edith shrieked in outrage and tried to slam the door, but she wasn’t quick enough. Darcey shoved it open and pushed past her, heading for the stairs.

“Len seemed to like the way my mom dressed…a lot. Couldn’t keep his hands off her. I’ve never seen two people so in love.”

“Bitch!” Edith screeched.

The memory of that leech touching her mother made Darcey’s skin crawl. She shoved it from her mind, and ignoring Edith, headed upstairs. Her fake smile slipping as soon as she was out of view. Pissing Edith off was a stupid thing to do, especially with the way things were at the moment. Al may be in charge, but Edith and Len could still make life difficult for her.

She jogged up the last few stairs to her brother’s room. The smile that spread across her face was the first genuine one she’d had in a long time. Excitement and her desperation to see him overwhelming any other emotion she’d had walking into this house again.

It wasn’t a surprise Noah was up here. He was always in his room. Especially when they had company. Edith wanted nothing to do with Noah And Len…well, he was never here. He was also a shitty stepdad to Noah. Why he’d insisted on keeping her brother around after her mom died instead of signing custody over to Darcey, she didn’t know. Maybe it was because Noah was the last connection he had left to their mother. She hadn’t lied to Edith. Len had loved her mom like crazy. That stupid, blind kind of love. And her mom had been just as visually impaired when it came to Len. He still hadn’t gotten over her loss—even though he’d replaced her within months—and Edith knew it, too.

She certainly didn’t want Len having a living breathing reminder of his previous wife living with them. She was jealous of a dead woman. No wonder she was such a bitch.

How could you compete with that?

She knocked lightly on Noah’s door then pushed it open. He looked up from the book he was reading, his expression going from extreme concentration to happiness in an instant.

“Darce!” He flung his book aside, bounded off his bed, and jumped into her outstretched arms, wrapping his around her waist and holding tight. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Her eight-year-old brother was lanky, tall for his age, and had a mop of dark brown hair that always stuck up no matter how he brushed it, just like their dad. She held his smaller frame in return, going down to her knees and absorbing his warmth, his smell. God, she’d missed him. So much it hurt like a wound in her chest that wouldn’t heal.