Dirty Hope (Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap Book 6) by P. Jameson

Author:P. Jameson [Jameson, P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paper Zombie Press
Published: 2020-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Adam took a deep breath of the night air as he stepped out of his truck to cross the parking lot to Red Cap. Megan was settled at Gracie's house and now the rest of the night, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

He only needed to figure out what that was.

Seeing Barb fly through the air doing impossible things with her motorbike and somehow landing safely on the ground had sent his anxiety soaring to new levels. He hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack in a few months, but today’s was so extreme, he wondered if it could kill him.

It was strange how the rational brain could be so irrational. How it can concoct scenarios that might not ever happen and make you believe they could. That they would. This was his biggest struggle. And now Barb was smack in the middle of it even if she didn’t want to be. Because he fucking cared and there was no way to stop it. She had dug into his heart like a shard of glass, painful because she wouldn’t let him become numb. She made him feel. She made him feel a lot of things he hadn’t wanted to feel since Karly.

Stepping into Red Cap, he didn’t look for her right away. Instead, he went to the bar and ordered his drink, avoiding everyone, including his friends. He knew they were around, but after losing his shit in the sound booth at the track, he didn’t want to face them.

They tried to help. Tried to be there for him like a buddy should be. But the truth was, none of them knew what he was feeling. None of them could fully understand it, and honestly, he didn’t want them to.

Adam took a hard swig of his beer before he turned to get the lay of the room. The first thing he saw was Sally dancing obscenely next to the juke box. Rider was nearby, watching like a hawk while she had her fun. They really were happy together. It was good to see.

But Adam’s eyes didn’t stop there. They didn’t even pause until he spotted Barb in the corner talking to one of the fox hounds from her old Skulk. Jett was his name. Dumbass name, Jett. What kind of fucking name was Jett anyway? It might as well spell out d-o-u-c-h-e-t-a-c-o.

And the other one was Rocco. Douche-taco Rocco was playing pool with the mated one. Maxim—also a dumbass name—was their leader and he mated a human, which neither of them approved of. Classic.

He’d kicked their asses once already, in what Rod liked to call the Most Epic Bar Fight in Cedar Valley History. If either douche-taco touched Barb tonight, he might just do it again.

“You know…” He didn’t realize Aaron slid onto the stool beside him until his voice interrupted the jealous inner rant. “They’re part of the pack now.”

Adam turned to find his friend eyeing the ones at the pool table. “No way. Drake is letting them stick around?”

Aaron nodded.

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