Chrome: With a Heart Forged in Steele (Carolina Bad #4) (27 page)

“You should say that a hundred times a day,” she murmured.

Yeah. I can totally do that.

Shifting Gears

THE GOOD, THE BAD, and the ugly had happened to Rayce within the space of twenty-four hours. The woman had every right and every reason to lose her shit completely. Her dad attacked her. He confessed to murdering her mom. Threatened to kill her, too. She found out he was never really her father, and Tucker might be.

Unbelievably, she held it together. In fact, her game face rarely faltered. The problem was she was too strong for her own damn good sometimes.

A few days later, when Ashe alerted us Ginny’s remains had been found and identified by DNA, Rayce sat at the kitchen bartop, silent and stony-eyed.

We heard all about Leroy. It was in the news. We didn’t even need the insider intel from Hunter or Ashe. He no longer loudmouth bragged about the killing but gave a statement the death was accidental.

Rayce’s reaction? Nothing but a blip on her radar.

Thankfully, due to her and my double corroboration of his confession, and with the remains exhumed—thank you to the wonders of forensics—he remained in custody, awaiting trial for manslaughter.

I tried to keep Rayce in the dark on certain matters, giving her as few details as possible. Some things she just didn’t need to know—specifics she’d been too young to remember. The extent of the ongoing physical abuse Ginny had survived that had culminated in the last fight for her life.

With Ginny’s remains finally released, I asked Rayce if she wanted a proper funeral.

She’d looked at me with glassy eyes. “Just something small. A nice plot? Someplace I can bring her flowers. I think I remember she always liked flowers. Maybe they were just weeds growing in the yard.” She’d touched the buttercup tat on her neck.

Every part of the upcoming murder trial and ongoing mourning process just about cut my heart out, but I stayed strong for my woman.

I respected her wishes.

There was no big send off for Virginia Cooper Lafayette who’d died twenty years ago. We buried her remains in the same cemetery as Nick’s grandmother and Kinkaid’s grandfather. Very few people were included in the somber affair. Tucker, who said a few teary words with his eyes on Rayce the entire time. Brodie and Ashe. Hunter, JB, Nick, Cat, and Josh and Leelee.

The Retribution and Redemption clubs rolled out the honor guard down 17 North just beside the graveyard, and still Rayce didn’t shed a tear
.

The nights were a totally different story. When Rayce broke, she broke hard. Every wall she built up around herself during the day tumbled down when we were alone. Those nights were cruel and hard and sad. The only good thing was Rayce didn’t lock herself away from me. I witnessed all of it. The railing out. The crying. The what-ifs. The wreckage of her life and what she’d thought to be her family.

I did the only thing I could. Held her. Soothed her. Took her anger and tried to talk her down.

Let her know how much she was loved.

She scoffed at the idea of counseling. She’d managed just fine so far, she said.

I made an appointment.

She canceled it.

I lectured her when all else failed.

She tuned me out.

Spring arrived—a month later it was the end of March—but it felt more barren than winter.

Rayce only relented when I sicced Ashe on her ass. The two of them had a heart-to-heart, and Ashe reached her where I couldn’t because they had that common link. They’d both been victims of crimes they couldn’t control.

Finally, Rayce went to see the psychologist. She began
living
again.

When she started going out to MX events with Sadie, Kinkaid and me in tow like dicks on a leash—happy ones at that—I figured we’d turned a corner.

When she contacted Tucker to set up the DNA testing I stopped worrying so much, stopped staying awake at night to watch over her, wishing I could do something to make her better.

She had steely strength inside her, and my girl was a force to be reckoned with even if she’d forgotten for a while.

The first Saturday in April, Rayce, Tuck, and I sat around the dining room table with three glasses, a full bottle of whiskey between us, and their results spread before us.

“Drink first.” Rayce poured a healthy dose into each glass. “Down the hatch!”

I swallowed that burn, eager for them to get to the goods. “Who looks first?”

Tucker sipped more slowly, nodding at Rayce. “Phoebe, of course.”

She smiled nervously, tucking her fingertip along the edge of the envelope. Pulling out the sheath of papers, she scanned them, her hands trembling.

Shuffling the pages back together, she lifted soft eyes to Tucker. “I think you should check.”

“All right, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff.

He stared at the papers, his mustache twitching.

I was about to shoot through the friggin’ roof. “And?”

“Yeah.” Tucker’s eyes brimmed over.

Rayce squeezed my hand.

I’d only ever seen the big man cry at my folks’ funeral. This time it was for a happy occasion.

Jesus.

“Well? Fucking hug already or something,” I prodded.

They met each other in the middle, and Tucker gave her a big bear hug that possibly cracked her back. She laughed, kissing his cheek.

Two of the people I loved most in the world. This was fucking crazy. Crazy good.

I joined the celebration, slapping Tuck on the back and then bringing Rayce to me for a deep kiss.

“Hey, now. I might need to ask if you have honorable intentions with my daughter.”

I growled at him.

“Too soon?” His belly rolled with his deep chuckle.

****

Rayce still had a long road ahead of her, but she had the Ladies of Redemption. She had the support of Retribution and the guys at Stone’s.

She had Tucker, and they were slowly getting to know one another better. The best part about their new relationship was he had all the personal stories about Ginny—what kind of perfume she had worn, what flowers she’d liked, her favorite songs—and he couldn’t wait to share them. The man was a walking, talking diary, an open book for Rayce to delve into. He even had photo albums that included their trip to Farm Aid IV in that old V-dub van he’d mentioned.
For the first time
, Rayce had solid memories of her mom.

She had her racing and a job she loved, and a man who had it so, so bad for her.

Even though we’d mentioned the sex thing the night after Leroy attacked her at the house, we still hadn’t fucked. I didn’t push it. I wouldn’t. Rayce knew I wanted her. I certainly didn’t hide it. I was ready whenever she wanted to come at me.

I couldn’t wait for that day.

That all changed one evening in early April when she got home midweek from work. I was cooking in the kitchen when the front door opened and closed.

“Boom? Can you come here?” Rayce called me into the living room.

I turned the heat low on the stove and made my way down the hall.

Her fingers trailed along the arm of the sofa, and her dimples deepened in her cheeks. “Come closer?”

The way she stared at me was almost enough to make me come in my pants right there and then. She watched me, greedy and hungry and
ready
.

Instant thump-thump-thump in my jeans.

“I think I’ll stay right here.” I leaned against the wall, making an obvious show of the lewd erection in my pants and the huge muscles along my chest and arms, because I knew how much she liked how big I was.

“You know”—she hit me with the flashing eyes, the sexy saunter, the lick of her lips—“this was the first room we had sex in.”

She hadn’t changed out of her coveralls. Fucking hot little mechanic with a body to die for. Her hair was in wild disarray, her lips glossy. And when she unzipped the garage uniform, her breasts heaved inside a tight white tank top.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my lips curling up. “That’s not how I remember it.”

Reaching me, Rayce stood a hairsbreadth away.

I maintained my stance.

Heat and want and need rolled off us as we tested each other’s limits.

“No?” She tilted her head, her shiny lips nearly touching mine.

“It was Christmas. And it was in this room. But we didn’t actually
fuck
.” Bucking out with my groin, I rolled my pelvis close to her body. So close.

She gasped. “Maybe we should rectify that.”

“Hell yes.” I made a fast grab at her.

She deftly slipped away. “Aren’t you supposed to be asking me if I’m sure?”

Stalking her like an animal in heat, I meted out, “Don’t think I have the patience for that anymore.”

“Good. I was beginning to wonder about your virility. You know. Considering your age and all.”

She only made it to the opposite side of the couch before I snagged her in my arms. “Well, let me rectify that.”

I practically pawed at her, my mouth sealed hotly to hers. The way her tongue moved was illegally sexy. The way she swayed against me indescribably wanton.

She set me on fire with a look, a word, a touch.

Our clothes flew off. The condom slammed on. My mouth and my fingers prepared her, sucking and stroking all over her. I went at her like a brute. It had been too long. She came right back at me, totally savage for it—scratching, licking, biting, kissing.

The first entry was hard, wet, fast, rough.

“Oh, fuck me, Rayce.” My back strained from my shoulders to my ass as I held the thrust deep and throbbing inside her.

Her legs wrapped around my waist. “Keep going.”

Pulling my bottom lip between hers, she fucked up the last inch until my balls slapped against her ass.

I rose on my arms, withdrawing and kicking in.

Her hips bucked impatiently. “Yes!” Her fingernails scored down my back, her hands landing on my ass. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too. You have no idea.” My tongue rasped up her neck to her ear, and I grunted.

Cranking over her, I cupped her shoulders from underneath. Her tits scathed my chest, her wet pussy engulfing every inch of my cock.

Body against body, I slowed, bobbing the head of my shaft in and out. “This what you wanted?”

“More!” She tossed her head back, hanging on.

“Want all of me?” I descended into her.

“Yes, Boom,
yes
.”

“I want all of you too.” I gazed into her eyes, rolling in and out of her. “Want your body. Your pain. Your heart. Your love.”

She whimpered, winding around me and taking me so deeply inside.

Each tight slow plunge inside her silken cunt made her ratchet up higher.

“What you needed?” I gnashed out.

She came right then, flinging her body onto mine as I held her striving pussy against my completely embedded cock.

The squeezing, teasing wet clasp of her cunt made me swell bigger. Hot blood engorged my cock. It expanded, my spine on fire, my ass clenching, my body powerfully heaving into her. She took it all. Took all of me.

I roared with the scalding, pouring release that blasted out of me.

She kicked into another orgasm. Fast as a burnout, she screamed, her hands locked on my hips to get everything I had to give.

Turned out that wasn’t actually all I had to give.

That night I was unstoppable. Rayce had no problem handling me as I made love to her again and again.

After the third time, I licked the sweat from her neck. “How’s that for virile?”

She blinked her hazel eyes open. “That all you got?”

As if.

We went at it. All. Night. Long.

****

The following weekend we showed up at Retribution. We’d been in together a few times since the attack, but it hadn’t been the same. Rayce’s guard had been up, not that anyone blamed her. This time was different. She was truly herself for the first time in months
,
at the dartboards and kicking ass like she used to, talking shit with her girls, back-talking me every chance she got.

Everyone noticed. No one commented. The vibe lifted higher, though, because one of our own had come back to us and it showed.

Although the night was low key, I stood at the bar swelling with pride. And finally, peace.

I didn’t even care when she swung her luscious ass on the dance floor—it had been too long since she’d let herself rock it out. I barely gritted my teeth when guys leaned over for a better view of her gyrating hips.

Okay, that was a
small
lie.

Brodie rolled up and gave Cole the two-finger wave for a round of shots.

“’Z’up, ya fuck?” Brodie asked Cole, whose thick chains jingled when he set down the Patron.