Chapter 8
Jett
Arko’s breath is warm on my cheek as he stands in the back seat of my truck, panting happily after playing for so long.
Harper sits in her car seat next to him, one hand on his back at all times.
We had a great time in what’s left of our yard but now it’s getting dark so we’re heading back home.
Well, not home really—we’re heading back to my parents’ home.
“He’s really good at catching the ball!” Harper says.
“Caleb said playing fetch was his favorite activity,” Keanna says with a smile. “He clearly wasn’t joking!”
”He treats fetch like it’s a life or death situation,” I joke, clicking my left blinker to turn onto the county road that takes us to the outskirts of town. “He loved being free in the yard so much. I feel bad keeping him on leash this past week.”
”Me too,” Keanna says, reaching over and petting him. He licks her cheek. Even in the backseat, he’s a big dog that can simply lean forward and get his slobber all over us in the front seat.
She heaves a sigh. “We need to take him back there every single day so he can get some good exercise.”
I nod. “Definitely. Maybe just until they start rebuilding, because a construction zone might not be safe for him.”
Keanna groans. “I hate this.”
I reach over and squeeze her thigh. “Me too, babe.”
When we get back, Harper and Arko are so exhausted from all the playing that they immediately relax in front of the television in my parents’ living room. Harper sprawls out on top of a couch pillow and Arko cuddles right next to her like he was born to do this instead of a lifetime of police work.
I grab a bag of chips from the kitchen pantry and lean against Keanna’s hip while she stands in the archway that separates the kitchen from the living room. “That’s pretty cute,” I say, nodding to them.
“I’m glad we adopted Arko,” she says.
“Me too. He’s a perfect new family member.”
Her expression turns serious. “Hey…I have a question.”
“What’s on your mind?”
”Was that Marcus on the phone?”
”Oh! Yeah, I totally forgot.” I tip the snack sized bag of chips to my mouth and down the rest of the crumbs.
“What did he want?”
“He texted me a few times lately but we finally got to touch base. And I don’t want it to sound like we’re a charity case or anything, because we’re technically not but like, we also don't have a house right now…”
“You have to talk faster,” Key says. “This is freaking me out.”
”Sorry,” I say. “It’s no big deal, and nothing to worry about.
But I guess they liked having me back for that race last week, and they have a couple of Team Loco guys out with injuries so the team offered me a three-day temporary contract to race with them next weekend.
A solid podium finish would get me about fifty grand. ”
Her eyes go wide. “They offered this because they think we need money?”
“Not exactly… but the whole motocross world knows that our house burned down and we lost everything. I guess they thought it would be cool for me to win, and also fun to have me filling in on Team Loco just temporarily.”
She shifts her weight onto her hip. “Well, what do you want to do?”
“Fifty grand for three days of work is way more than I make at The Track.”
My parents pay me well for working at the family business, but not fifty grand in three days well. The entire business doesn’t make that much in three days.
She hugs her arms around her. “Plus you really liked racing again, huh?”
”Hell yes. It was awesome. The team bike was way faster than my bikes here.”
”You should do it,” she says, glancing at Harper who is still watching TV, one arm wrapped around Arko’s back. “If you think you’ll enjoy it, you should totally do it.”
”It would mean leaving you guys here with my parents alone,” I say, curling my nose.
She rolls her eyes. “You say that like I don’t have the best in-laws ever. They love me more than they love you.”
”True…” I grab a stick of beef jerky from the pantry, realizing I should go grocery shopping soon to replace all the stuff I’m eating.
Since we’re not paying any sort of rent or utilities here, I should buy all the groceries just to show our appreciation.
“I guess I’m doing it,” I say, leaning over to kiss her.
She pulls away. “Ew, beef jerky breath!”
“I’ve only had one bite,” I protest.
She curls her lip. “That’s garlic flavored—trust me, it smells.”
”Okay well you owe me after I brush my teeth,” I say, playfully taking another bite. The garlic taste is delicious but I guess the resulting garlic breath is not exactly sexy.
I text Marcus that I’m in for the three day race.
He texts back a bunch of fire emojis, which I guess makes it official.
By the time I’ve showered and brushed my teeth, I hear my phone vibrating from the other room.
I rub a towel over my hair to dry it, casually checking my phone with the other hand and—holy shit.
I have seventy-two notifications from social media alone.
Several texts, and two missed calls from Team Loco guys.
What on earth? Seems like Marcus put the word out on Team Loco’s website and social media that I would be joining the team next weekend, and everyone has something to say about it.
Luckily, it all seems positive. I haven’t posted to my own social media page in a couple of weeks, but that hasn’t stopped five hundred new comments appearing on my latest post, which was just a photo of my giant ice cream cone I got at a local food truck.
The motocross websites and extreme sports pages picked up the story, and they’re making it extra click-baity by mentioning that my house burned down in their article titles.
From Ashes to Air: Jett Adams Scores High-Paying Team Loco Contract after Devastating House Fire
He Lost Everything – Except His Need For Speed
I roll my eyes. Websites will do anything for clicks, views, and comments. I’m not a big fan of social media, but I am grateful for the opportunities I have through this sport. Without the fans, I doubt Team Loco would be offering me this temporary, high-paying spot.
A panicked, “Dad!” fills the air from downstairs. I jump at first, but the voice isn’t Harper’s. It’s my little sister Brooke, and she’s calling for our dad, not me. I jog downstairs to see what the commotion is all about.
“Holy hell,” Dad says, running a hand down his mouth. “We have got to fix this before Bayleigh sees.”
”What happened?” I say. The muddy dog and muddy paw prints all over the kitchen make it pretty obvious what happened, but the real question here is how did it happen?
”I took him outside to pee,” Brooke says, “but the sprinklers were on, so he played in the mud instead.”
“And you just let him get all muddy?” Dad says.
Brooke shrugs. “I told him to stop but he didn’t listen.”
Dad sighs, and I feel like this is all my fault even though I was in the shower when it happened. It’s my dog, though. “We have got to get this all cleaned up before Bayleigh sees it,” Dad says. “She will lose her mind over all this mud.”
It really is everywhere. The floor, the walls, the back door, and even on some of the kitchen cabinets. Mom really will lose her mind.
”Brooke, how could you be so careless?” I say.
”It’s not my fault your dog is so bad!” She’s in full on pre-teen mode right now as she storms off toward her bedroom.
”Wait, you need to help us clean this,” I say.
”No, it’s your dog’s fault not mine!”
”Fine,” I say, sounding more like a dad than a big brother. “If you don’t help us then you don’t get to take Arko out anymore.”
”Fine!” she screams, turning on her heel and stomping off to her bedroom.
”Sorry,” I mutter to my dad as we both begin cleaning up the mud. Arko will need a bath after this, but what’s more important is making sure Mom doesn’t see the mess. I tell Arko to lay down at the back door and stay there, which he obeys, luckily.
I’ll have to make up with my little sister later, but one thing is for sure now:
We need to get our own home, stat.