Page 3 of Dare (Fighting Fate)

I chuckled as my two oldest brothers sauntered in, Isaac with a bowl of chips and Adam with a case of beer. I met Adam’s gaze, not able to hold back the shit-stirring grin that molded my lips. “How’s the chicken bone stash coming along? Think we’ve got enough to bust the old man free yet?”

Adam grinned as he moved behind Dad and dropped the case on the workbench. “We’ve got plenty of chicken bones. It’s the mummified monkey hand that’s the problem.”

Dad shook his head with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I raised a bunch of comedians. You’re all hilarious.”

The door creaked again, and my two closest friends appeared. “Not as hilarious as this clown,” Brad said, sticking his thumb out at Jordan.

Jordan frowned. “I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult or a compliment.”

Brad patted his shoulder. “Take it as a compliment, Bro,” he said. “I’m not up for a dead arm right now.”

Bumping my fist to each of them as they passed, I tossed the rag I was holding to the ground and quickly undid the filter lug to drain the rest of the oil.

Brad nodded to the bike as he sat on the crate beside me. “How is it?”

I looked over my new Kawasaki and pursed my lips. “So far, so good. The skid plate was all bent out of shape, but there’s no damage underneath.”

Adam hollered at me from across the room. “Brew?”

“Yeah, man.”

Brad signaled Adam for a beer as well before checking under my bike. “Are you still keen to head out to Prairie City next week? Jordan says Pauly and the boys are ready.”

Interest immediately sparked. Pauly and his team had been my favorite challenge back in my amateur racing days. A little friendly race would be awesome. “Fuck, yeah. I can’t remember the last time I went up against their crew. How long are they in Cali for?”

Jordan plonked down next to Brad before handing us both a can. “Just for the week,” he said, cracking his open. “They’re touring the West Coast again.”

Isaac snorted as he straddled his bike next to mine. “I remember the last time you went up against Pauly, Eli. You sure you want to do that again?”

“Fuck off,” I said, flipping him the bird. “You know it was a faulty valve.”

He chuckled. “It’s okay, little brother. I’ll make sure I’m there with the truck in case it’s you who catches on fire this time.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Isaac was the smart ass of the family. He was also a fireman, so there was no way of escaping the constant reminder of the one day my racing bike caught on fire after a small crash.

Dad groaned. “Don’t even joke about it, Isaac. I had to listen to your mother go on about cursed motorcycles for a mo

nth after that. I’m surprised we didn’t all come home to find the workshop cleared out of everything motorized.”

Adam huffed as he sank down next to Dad, handing him a can. “She nearly did. I had to bribe her by promising that Isaac and I would be at every race after that.”

Adam was a paramedic. In our early racing days, he volunteered his time to man the track with his ambulance. But those days were over now. Not only had we all given racing up, Adam and his wife, Kara, were now expecting their first child, so he tried to be at home as often as he could be.

Isaac laughed. “And to think Mom was happy when Noah didn’t get into racing.”

I tried not to laugh, but it was a little bit funny. Noah was the youngest of all us Murphy boys, and while he’d been just as wild as the rest of us, he’d chosen his career young. As soon as he graduated high school, he more or less went straight into the police academy, graduating top of his class. Mom had been over the moon. Until she found out he’d earned himself an undercover gig infiltrating a drug ring . . .

The eighteen months he was gone was the hardest thing our family had been through. We rarely got updates of his well-being—despite the fact that Dad was also a cop—and sometimes went months without knowing if he was even alive. I swear Mom went an entire week without eating one of those times we hadn’t been able to get any news about him. She was just that sick with worry.

But he was home now. Had been for a couple of years. In fact, he was only ten units away from finishing his degree in criminal justice. I was beyond proud. We all were. His sacrifice was a large part of the reason I had decided to study law. I wanted to make sure the bad guys they caught got put away for a long time.

“Where is Noah, anyway?” I asked, starting the process of removing the old oil filter.

Adam chuckled. “Where do you think?”

“Thumbelina’s got him wrapped up tight,” Isaac said with a smirk.

Thumbelina was Isaac’s nickname for Noah’s girlfriend, Kaeli. And she really did have him wrapped up tight. He would do anything for that girl. But she was a nice chick. They deserved each other.

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