Swerve: Boosted Hearts (Volume 1) (15 page)

Her mother’s mouth pinched, eyes narrowing. “You ungrateful bitch,” she rasped.

Shay clung to the bench to tighter. “You didn’t come here to see me. You came here to get what you could from me until you found your next meal ticket, the next poor idiot to fall for your lies. That’s the way it always is. And I’m done,” she said the last on a whisper, the words a surprise, even to her.

Something ugly flittered across her mother’s face, then the mask lifted. “Now, Shay, baby, don’t go saying something you’ll regret.”

She straightened her spine. “I want you to leave.”

Her mother’s bright-pink nails curled into her palms. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’m going to work, and when I get back, I want you gone.” She’d actually said those words out loud, even though she’d barely heard herself over the blood rushing in her ears. She’d said it.

Grabbing her purse, needing to get the hell out of there, she walked out the door without a backward glance. She ignored the Honda Hugh had given her and kept going. Taking that car, using it, would make her just like her mother. She refused to be that. To become that. Someone’s dirty secret, money and gifts thrown at her to keep her quiet—making sure she knew her place.

To not expect more.

That would destroy her.

She strode down the street, hoping the walk would give her time to calm down. Jane would ask her a million questions—questions Shay didn’t want to answer. She hugged herself. Her mother was right about one thing, though. It was better to end this thing between her and Hugh now—before she got attached.

She just hoped it wasn’t already too late.

* * *

Raggedy Jane’s was unusually busy that day, which meant Shay didn’t have much time to think about her mother or Hugh. Or the complete mess she’d made of her life.

When her shift finished, she walked home slowly, in no hurry to face what she’d done. God, she’d kicked her own mother out onto the street.
Did Mom have somewhere to go?
Did she have any money at all? Where would she sleep tonight?

Shay had overreacted, hadn’t she? Taken her hurt and anger over what happened this morning with Hugh out on her mother. Nothing her mom had said to Shay was new. She’d heard it all before, many times, and she’d never lost it like that. Her mother was all she had left, her only family. That should mean something, right?

She pulled out her phone to call her. “Shoot.” It was dead.

Picking up the pace, she half jogged the last couple of blocks to the trailer park. The sun had dropped in the sky by the time she got there, sweaty and out of breath, the colored lights already on for the evening. Harold called after her as she speed-walked past his trailer, but she didn’t stop.

Unlocking the door, she shoved it open, flicked on the light, and stopped dead…

She reached for the wall to support herself.

No
.

Anything not bolted down or too heavy to carry was gone. Her TV, her stereo, crappy as it was. Her CD’s. Little knick-knacks that had belonged to her grandmother. The miniature cat figurine collection her gran had loved, each piece painfully selected. Even Shay’s books were gone.

“I tried to stop her.” Edna’s voice drifted in from the door behind her, the sharpness usually there, gone. Her voice was shaky, broken.

Shay turned and lifted her hand to her mouth. Edna stood there, Harold supporting her. She had a cut on her cheek…another on her hand. “Oh, my God. What did she do to you?”

“I’m okay, Shay, girl. She just shoved me out of the way. I lost my balance.” She shuffled farther into the room. “I’m okay; don’t worry about me.”

Harold helped Edna onto the couch.

“You might want to see to her cuts, honey,” he said gently. “I’m no good with that kind of thing.”

Shay had never heard Harold use that tone in her life. Or seen that softness in his eyes. He’d certainly never called her honey before.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and she came out of the haze she was in, the confusion, and raced to the bathroom to grab her first-aid kit. She cleared her mind; if she thought about what her mother had done to Edna, to Shay, she might shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

Pulling out the supplies she needed, she started cleaning Edna’s cuts. “This is my fault. All of it. I kicked her out. I made her angry…you know how she gets when she’s angry…I…I…” Hot tears scorched a path down her face. “I’m so sorry, Edna.”

The warmth of Edna’s frail hand came down on her shoulder, her grip surprisingly firm. “You did nothing wrong. You put up with her crap longer than she deserved. You hear me, girl?”

Shay nodded, nausea and emotion clogging her throat. “Did you call the police?”

Edna shook her head. “Left that decision to you. Figured without any money she can’t get far. Gas will run out sooner or later.”

“Gas?”

Edna gave her another squeeze. “She took your car, loaded it up and drove off without a backward glance.”

She’d taken Hugh’s car. “Oh, God.”

“I wasn’t sure what to do, so I called your young man. Big guy like that, way he cares about you, he’ll sort out this mess.”

No.
She shot to her feet.
“You called Hugh?”

“He gave me his number when he brought Rocky back the other morning, said if we ever needed anything, to give him a call. I gave him a call.”

She raced to her bag, grabbed her phone and plugged it into her charger—the only thing her mother hadn’t taken. Her phone blew up with messages and missed calls from Hugh as soon as she turned it on.

Her humiliation was complete.

Shay had dressed Edna’s cuts and gotten her settled back in her own trailer with Harold for company when her phone rang.

She didn’t want to answer it. How could she face Hugh after what her mother had done? Shay still couldn’t believe she had actually
stolen
his car. Did she think she could just take it and nothing would happen? That she’d just drive off, and no one would care that she’d stolen it? This was a whole new low for her mother. Or was it? Shay had no way of knowing what she got up to during her months of no contact. Humiliation burned her cheeks, tension and anxiety pounding through her body, so much so she felt sick to her stomach. Then there were the feelings of betrayal.

How could a mother do that to her own daughter?

But Shay couldn’t avoid Hugh forever, and she was no coward. He’d done a nice thing, given her a car to use, and thanks to her mother, it had blown up in his face.

Sucking in an unsteady breath, she hit the call button. “Hello.”

“Thank fuck.” He was quiet a couple of heartbeats, breathing heavily. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Are you okay?”

He was angry, but under that she could hear concern. It warmed her…it also confused her. “I-I’m sorry. My phone died. I didn’t see your calls until I plugged it in.”

“And you didn’t think to call me back? That I might be worried?”

“I…well, I…” She frowned at the wall across from her.
Worried?
“No, I didn’t think…”

He growled. Actually growled down the line. “Fucking hell, Shay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

He growled again, louder, cutting her off.
Oh, dear.
He was angry, more than angry, and justifiably so, considering her mother had driven off in his car.

She took a deep breath. She had to say this, or this sick feeling in her belly would never go away. “Um…look.” She waited, and when no growls echoed down the line she carried on. “About the car…I will pay you back. I promise. It might take a while, but I’ll pay you back every cent…”

“I’m with your mother.”

Shay shot to her feet. “You’re what?”

“Edna called while she was loadin’ your shit. I couldn’t get there fast enough, but I know a guy who lives nearby. He was waiting for her, followed, told me where she was.”

“You’re with her…right now?” The nausea intensified.

“Yeah, babe. Tell me what you want me to do? Decision’s yours.”

She heard a voice in the background. Her mother’s. It was pitched high, which meant she was furious, and she was making sure Hugh knew it.
Oh, God
. If Shay hadn’t been sure they were over before, she was now.

“You don’t get to talk to her, bitch. You don’t deserve to breathe the same motherfucking air,” Hugh growled at her mother in reply.

Shay’s throat tightened, more humiliation weighing her down. Had that woman ever loved Shay at all?

“Shay, baby, I need to know how you want to play this. You want the cops involved, you want me to get your stuff and make sure she leaves town. It’s up to you, princess.”

Princess.

He’d been calling her that a lot lately. She liked it. No, she
loved
it. He was such a good man. Even after everything that had happened, this nightmare of a situation, he was still looking out for her. He didn’t need to do that. He didn’t owe her anything.

She cleared her throat so she could speak past the lump. “I want my things back. S-she took Gran’s cats. Why would she do that? She doesn’t even like cats. Which means she did it just to hurt me.” Shay was rambling now, but she couldn’t stop, not when so many emotions were battling inside her. “What did I ever do? Why does she h-hate me so much?” Her voice broke on the word hate, and she had to bite her lip to stop the sob that was close to breaking free.

“Shay, listen to me. I need you to make a decision. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want Gran’s things back. Get your car. I don’t care about anything else.” She swiped her tears away. “I don’t want her coming back here, and I don’t want to hear from her again.”

“Okay.” His voice was gentle.

“Thank you, Hugh.”

He was silent a few seconds. “Later, Shay.” Then he disconnected.

Throwing the phone aside, she got to her feet and headed for the bathroom. She needed a hot shower, then all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

For a few peaceful hours, she needed to forget the mess that was her life.

* * *

Hugh quietly opened the door to Shay’s trailer. It was only nine thirty, but the place was dark. Shay hadn’t answered at his knock, and the door had been locked—until he picked it.

He moved through the tiny living room and pushed open her bedroom door, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her.
She’s okay
. Of course she was, but when she hadn’t answered the door, he’d freaked, had barely stopped himself from kicking in the damn thing.

Shay was fine, but she was out cold, her lush body curled into a tight ball, blankets tucked up to her chin. He wanted to climb in with her, pull her into his arms and tell her everything was okay, but he couldn’t. Not tonight. Not with the way he was feeling.

That didn’t stop the ache building steadily, the almost desperate need to wrap around her—to hold her close—from pounding through him.

Jesus.

His gut tightened.

But he couldn’t do that, because staying here with her could only bring more shit to her door. That was the last thing she needed.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. It’d be Joe. They still had cars to find. They couldn’t risk missing their deadline. Al was looking for any excuse to tie them in, and Hugh wasn’t giving it to him.

He moved closer, couldn’t help it, and stared down at her, at her face soft in sleep. Beautiful.

He’d wanted to strangle her mother today. The bitch didn’t deserve Shay. Didn’t deserve her love. The way Shay had lost it on the phone with him…her pain…he’d heard it, shit, he’d
felt
it in her voice. She’d barely held it together. He’d wanted to comfort her more than anything, but he didn’t want her mother to know how much she’d hurt her. The selfish bitch wasn’t getting that, as well. She wasn’t getting another piece of the amazing woman lying in this bed.

Which was why he struggled to leave now. That desire—to comfort her, to make everything okay, to be the one to do that for her—it was so damn strong. He reached out, brushed back her hair and grinned when she screwed up her face. She still didn’t wake.

Shit
.

He didn’t have the heart to wake her, either. There was no point.

Without considering his actions or why he had to do it, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Sleep tight, princess.”

Then he walked out the door.

* * *

Hugh stood watch, while Joe strode across the lot toward a Toyota.

So far, so good. Hugh was even managing to keep his mind off Shay, tucked up in bed, all warm and soft—well, he had until right then. He tried to focus and scanned the area again.

They were close. This car, then they only needed to find one more, and they’d meet Al’s deadline for that month.

Joe was half a parking lot away from the car when a figure dressed in dark clothing sprinted from the other side, stopping by the car they were there to get. There was a flash of silver—whoever it was made no effort to conceal the fact they were picking the lock. Joe obviously saw, as well, because he started running toward the person.

He didn’t make it. Whoever it was, they were good. The door was open, the car hot-wired, engine firing to life within seconds. Joe reached the car as it lurched forward and squealed out onto the street.

His brother threw his hands in the air, his curse echoing into the night.

“Shit.” Hugh rubbed his temples. This wasn’t happening.
Jesus.
This was seriously messed up.

Joe strode back to him, expression like thunder. “What in the
fuck
was that?”

“No fucking idea.”

“Al.” Joe hissed out a breath. “Whoever that was, he has to be on Al’s payroll. Fucker wants us missing our deadline.”

They walked quickly back toward Joe’s truck. “That’d be my guess.”

Their only option now was to find another car, which wasn’t always easy. Finding a specific make and model, no problem. Finding one in the right location, somewhere they could get to work without being seen, so they weren’t taking bigger risks than they already were—that took time and energy.

“You think he had something to do with that security guard when we were casing the Merc?” Joe shoved a hand in his hair. “I mean, yeah, your phone went off, but he was scanning the lot as if he knew we were there as soon as he walked out.”

Hugh nodded. Joe was right. “More than likely.”

“Motherfucker.”

Al gave Hugh a list of cars after each delivery, orders from his clients. Their job was to find those exact cars, by an exact date. If they didn’t deliver by their deadline, Hugh was up shit creek without a paddle.

And there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.