Pedal to the Metal (James Brothers Series Book 1) Read online

  Copyright

  Pedal to the Metal is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  PEDAL TO THE METAL: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2018 by Stephanie Nicole

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Editing

  Cover design by KP Designs

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Extras

  Dedication

  This book is to my family and friends who believed in me every step of this journey. Your support means everything, and I wouldn’t be here now without you. Thank you for showing me what love and support is.

  Prologue

  5 years ago

  It was getting late and I knew I needed to get home. Harlyn would be worried if she didn't at least hear from me soon. Plus, I figured she was dying for one of those Dairy Queen blizzards. Her cravings had become constant at this point. Only two more months left until we got to meet our little girl. Sometimes, I still found it hard to believe that I was going to be a father, but at least I'd had a hell of a role model growing up.

  Sliding out from underneath the car I thought back to the first day I saw Harlyn Bexton in seventh grade. She was a new student and even though she was trying not to draw attention to herself, she was hard to miss with that medium brown hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks, gray eyes and full lips. I felt every nerve in my body stand on end when she looked at me. It had taken me a whole month just to speak to her. Axell and Bowie still give me hell over that.

  That memory seems like yesterday, yet it was seven years ago. We survived middle school, high school, and Harlyn has managed two years of college. We're happily engaged and expecting, living in a small two-bedroom apartment, but its home. I could live anywhere, and it would be home as long as I had Harlyn. Sure, it had been hard since we found out she was pregnant. I was working at my family's body shop and bar while trying to save everything I could since Harlyn had to quit working, but we were making it. We were going to be okay because we always were, as long as we had each other we'd be okay.

  No one plans on being a parent at 20 but I didn't worry because Harlyn was going to be a natural. Bowie popped his head inside the door "Jagger!" he called out.

  I sat up and looked at him "Yeah?"

  "It's getting pretty late. You might want to call it a night," he said before turning to head back over to the bar which was directly behind the body shop. I heard the door open again before Bowie's head reappeared "Oh, and your phone has been going off like crazy. I keep hearing ‘I'll Be There for You’ by Bon Jovi every few minutes," he said tossing my phone to me.

  Shoot! It was almost midnight, no wonder Harlyn was blowing my phone up. I bet she was worried sick. We didn't exactly live in the safest neighborhood, but most people knew not to mess with any of the James boys. I dashed to the sink to wash my hands, then grabbed my keys. Once I was in my car I dialed Harlyn back to let her know I was on my way home.

  "Jagger, I was so worried," I heard Harlyn sigh into the phone. My girl had a voice of an angel.

  "Sorry angel, I got busy working on this 1967 Ford Eleanor GT and lost track of time. I'm heading to get your blizzard now then I'll be home."

  "Don't worry about the blizzard I'm almost to the DQ now. I just couldn't wait any longer," she said, sounding apologetic but she had nothing to apologize for. I however, owed her an apology; she shouldn't be out this time of night, alone and pregnant in the neighborhood. I had to start paying better attention. "Jagger, wherever your mind is reel it back in. I'm fine, Harper is fine, we both just need our ice cream. We'll meet you back at home."

  "Are you sure Harlyn?" I asked but I never got a response. Instead I heard a scream, tires screeching, metal bowing and glass shattering before the phone went dead. My heart was in my throat as I sped up to get to where I thought Harlyn might be and sure enough there was her car, or what was left of it. A jacked-up Ford truck was laying on its side, but I didn't bother to even stop as I ran towards Harlyn but as approached I noticed she wasn't in the car.

  I screamed her name over and over as I ran along the darkened side of the road. This curve had always been deadly, but I never feared it, not until tonight, not until I saw Harlyn lying about five feet out from the car, not moving, her body lying in an impossible position. Blood was everywhere, as I collapsed next to her I felt her tiny neck for a pulse but got nothing. In that moment my entire world stopped spinning, that Jagger stopped existing. My heart shattered like that windshield, my mind bent like that metal and suddenly my voice was screeching like those tires. My whole life had just been taken in an instant. By the time the paramedics and cops arrived I was numb. As they zipped Harlyn and Harper up in that black body bag I felt the last part of me die. It went with them, my brothers had showed up by that time, but I wanted nothing from them, I wanted no one. The only one I wanted was gone.

  That night had changed everything. I had fled from Los Angeles after the funeral and I hadn't returned, that was five years ago but my family needed me now. I was 25 now and it was time for me to grow up and be a man. That night, the loss of the two who meant the most to me, this world the last five years, had changed me. I was no longer the naive man that believed that love would make everything better. I no longer believed that one person could make everything okay.

  Chapter 1

  Londynn

  I stare up at the large cream-colored mansion and suddenly my anxiety kicks back in full force. I take some deep breaths slowly and count to ten like I've been told to do over the past three months. I make my way up the steps from the taxi I had to take to return home. You would think one of my parents could have made time in their busy schedules to pick me up but nope, once again I was left to fend for myself. I guess I could have called Farrah but it's still relatively early for her. I'm pretty sure she doesn't see the sunlight until at least one in the afternoon. Then of course you'd think Ryce could have shown up considering he was my boyfriend, or at least he used to be, before. I didn't even bother to tell Creed or Alivia that I was coming home to
day or otherwise they would have been there and made a big deal about it. I just couldn't handle all that right now.

  Closing the door behind me I stand in the foyer of the white sterile mansion I'm supposed to call home, but it's never really been a home. Not in any real sense of the word anyways. Sure, I grew up here, I had a mom, dad, brother and sister but we had always lived our lives apart from one another. I spent most of my time with nannies until I was old enough to take care of myself which in my parent’s eyes was about ten. Thankfully, my parents had hired an older lady name Vivienne as the cook and main housekeeper. She had made it well known that she thought my parents were crazy for letting me and my siblings run around with no supervision or structure. She always made sure to stop and give us all a kiss or hug or kind word of encouragement. She had dried my tears more than once in my lifetime.

  Vivienne was in her early 60's when she started working for us but for me she was like the mother I didn't have. She was a short, round lady with cheeks that always stayed a shade of pink. Her medium length gray hair was always worn up in a tight bun and kind blue eyes were always hidden behind her reading glasses. She never wore any jewelry except for her wedding band even though she was widowed, that had forced her to come out of retirement. She had been a teacher in her younger years and she loved children that was a given. She even loved Duke, my brother, and he wasn’t the easiest to love. Vivienne had spent all the time she could here with us, teaching us, raising us but she was gone now. Just another thing to add to the list of before.

  As I looked around to the tiled floor that was too shiny to be walked on, the overly white walls that could blind you when the sun from the sky lights above hit them just right, the exquisite chandelier that hung in the middle of the sky lights, the expensive paintings on the walls that were only there to showcase how much money my parents wanted people to believe they had. I dropped my luggage on the floor and listen to the echo in the silence of this house. Without Vivienne there was never a chance of this house ever becoming a home. Picking back up my luggage I passed the living room that was never lived in and the formal dining room that was only used to keep up appearances.

  I went up the grand stair case and took the right one when they broke into two. The right side of the house was the "Children's wing" as my parents referred to it as. Every door is closed up tight Duke and Farrah haven't been here in years, just me. I'm the youngest, the last hope to make the Parrish family name look good since Duke and Farrah didn't follow the plan, didn't conform to the expectations that had been held for them. Now I was the last hope and I was faced with the fact that my life had been planned out for me since before I could speak. I didn't do well with the disappointed looks I received from my parents even though they had never showed signs of love to me I still yearned for it. For the first time in three months I wished I was Farrah.

  As I opened the door to the room I called mine I wasn't shocked to see it hadn't changed. It still looked like no one ever used it. A bedroom in a magazine looked more inviting than mine did. I hadn't even been given a choice in my bedding or decor. Everything was pale pink it had a princess feel, which I guess is what my parents thought of us as since the Parrish family was one of the richest families in Los Angeles aside from celebrities. I dropped my luggage next to the door as I made my way to the French doors on either side of my bed that led to the balcony.

  I refuse to look at all the wall of shelves that had been added to the room once my parents realized I would be a champion in dance. All those trophies and medals and pictures would just cause that hole in my heart to open back up and swallow me whole. The anxiety attack would set in again if I did. In the life I had been handed I never had to hurt for anything except for the freedom to make my own decisions.

  My phone goes off and I see Alivia's name and picture bouncing around on the screen. I slide my finger across to answer it. Justin Bieber is blaring in the background and I can hear Creed begging her to turn it down. Finally, Alivia's chipper voice comes over the phone. "Londynn? Are you there?"

  "Yeah, I was just listening to you two bickering like an old married couple," I reply.

  "We do not!" She says with her normal dramatic flair, but I guess that's to be expected from an aspiring actress.

  "You do to but that's beside the point," I say sitting on my bed, careful not to wrinkle it. I shake my head at how idiotic of an idea that is.

  Creed's deep voice comes over the line next. "Anyways, me and the wifey," I hear him laugh and Alivia give an eww, "wanted to know what time you were being released so we could pick you up then we’re all going to lunch and the beach to celebrate."

  I sigh, preparing for the backlash I'm about to get. "I'm already at home but we can go to lunch and the beach."

  "Wait! You already got out and home, but you didn't tell us," Alivia says sounding hurt and I don't think it's her acting ability this time.

  "Why didn't you call us Londynn?" Creed asks me.

  "I don't know. I told my parents but neither showed so I just took a taxi. Listen, it's no big deal just head over here, and we'll head to lunch. I'm starved," I say trying to lighten the mood and it seems to work since the subject is dropped for now. They said their about thirty minutes away, so I have time to change and touch up my makeup.

  As I stand in the fully stocked, extravagant walk-in closet I shake my head. This is an obscene amount of clothes for anyone to own. I used to pride myself on all the materialistic things I had been given. However, after that night three months ago it all just seems so shallow. I actually think it started the beginning of my senior year in high school when I realized that my life wasn't really mine. My parents expected me to do as the pleased. My mom had married my dad because it was good for her father's business and he came from the wealthiest family at the time. He had been guaranteed to succeed.

  I don't think my parents ever really loved each other. Their marriage was just an arrangement that would both help them personally. They were all about the appearances, it didn't matter that my father was a functioning alcoholic nymphomaniac that has slept with every office manager who had had ever worked for him. Curtis Parrish was one of the most sought-after plastic surgeons in California. Women and Men came to him from all over and paid him a ridiculous price to keep looking like their child's sibling instead of their parent. My dad was handsome and could be incredibly charming, but he wasn't going to win any daddy of the year awards, but I guess young pretty office managers don't care about that. No, all they care about is that Curtis Parrish is tall, standing at 6'3", broad shoulders, lean physique since he's an avid runner. He keeps his salt and pepper hair slicked back where it curls just at his collar. However, it totally works for him because it he has that total George Clooney thing going on that all the ladies seem to go for. His square jaw, perfect nose and teeth and deep hazel eyes seal the package. Never mind, the fact that he's extremely wealthy, I'm sure that has nothing to do with it.

  However, I'm sure many look at my parents and see the appearance they try so hard to convey. I'm sure many know the truth and blame my father but it's not just him. My mother is walking cliché. She's a self-medicated whore who has had an affair with every pool boy, personal trainer and gardener we've ever had working at this house. I get what the guys see because my mom is gorgeous. She's 5'9" without her heels, slender, with medium length hair that is currently a sandy blonde. Her blue eyes are striking as well as the face that she has bought over the years. Patricia Parrish was no mother, she was like this house. This house was not home just a place that five people had rested their heads. Three children had been carried by Patricia Parrish, but none had been loved.

  I had been so lost in my thoughts that I had forgotten about Alivia and Creed until I heard them coming down the hallway. As they entered my room I ran to them and pulled Alivia into my arms first. Her tiny stature was not showing today thanks to her five-inch wedges. Alivia Gomez was all of five feet one inch with every Latin curve. Her long black hair was thick and curled p
erfectly. She smiled at me, exposing her dimples in her baby face cheeks. Her brown eyes were full of love and it made me happy to know that I at least had friends I could call family.

  I didn't have time to turn around before Creed Eisenhower pulled me into his strong arms. Creed wasn't much taller than me at five feet ten inches, but he was practically a genius. He attended the same private high school as Alivia and me, but he attended on a scholarship which was strictly given due to his brain. His floppy brown hair was pushed to one side and his glasses almost hid those caramel colored eyes that made all the girls stare. It didn't help that they were framed but some amazing lashes. Since his braces had been removed last year he smiled constantly causing lines to form around his mouth but it suited him.

  "We've missed you Londynn! Now, let's go eat because now I'm starving," Alivia said grabbing my hand and pulling me out into the hallway. I may not have the family I dreamed off or the freedom to do what I want with my life, but I did have these two amazing people to call my family.

  ****

  Jagger

  Pulling back into Los Angeles after five years was the last thing I wanted to do but my brothers needed me now. With my father’s death and Jovi still in school they were going to need the extra pair of hands at the shop and bar. As much as I'd like to stay running from my past it was time I faced it. I drove through L.A. until I reached the neighborhood I had called home. North Hills, Los Angeles is not a desired place to live. Its home to the lower middle class with small houses built in the 70s and 80s. A lot of the homes had become run down over the years, but it was still home. As I made my way through the neighborhood I came upon the curve in the road that had changed everything for me. Pulling over to the side of the road I parked and stared out the windshield. My heart rate picked up as that night came back to me in flashes. Every time I closed my eyes that night came back to me I didn't want to start living that daily hell while awake too.