Page 2 of Truck You

Garret got himself one of those tiny houses and put it on his eight acres. The rest of us still live in the main house with Dad and Grams. It’s a huge Victorian-style house that’s seen better days, but it’s home, and we all like living close. Maybe one of these days we’ll each settle on our inheritance like Garret did. Until then, it’s happy, noisy bliss on the Mutter homestead.

“We never should have let him put that garage by his hut,” Chase says around a drink of his beer. “Fucker never comes to the shop anymore.”

“Don’t think that would’ve mattered.” Liam adds. “He spends most of his time running around the county fixing broken appliances. I can’t even recall the last time he worked on a car.”

“I don’t get it. Working with us is fun.” I frown. The time I spend working with my brothers at the garage we own is the best part of my day. Between building custom racecars and racing them on local tracks, my days are a blast.

“And that, baby brother, is the problem.” Chase slaps me on the back before he ducks into the seat opposite Liam. “Fun and Garret don’t mix.”

“Come on, break the rack already so we can get a couple of games in before we eat. I’m already starving.” Ash glares at me from the opposite end of the pool table. I’d tell him to go first, but it wouldn’t do any good.

In our family, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, the youngest always goes first. Whether it be a game, fixing our plate at dinner, or taking a damn shower after a long day in the garage. It’s always youngest to oldest in the Mutter household.

I chalk up the end of my cue stick, place the cue ball near the outside rail, and prepare to break the rack. I take my shot and the rack breaks beautifully, knocking three solids and one stripe into a pocket.

After studying the layout in relation to the cue ball, I make my call. “Five ball in the corner pocket.”

It glides into the pocket with ease. I take two more turns before I miss.

Ash is a much better player than me, so I know I’m toast. Knowing him, he’ll end this game in a single turn.

Put me behind the wheel of a car, however, and I’ll leave everyone within a fifty-mile radius in my dust. Racing stock cars is where I excel. Hell, if I hadn’t had a near fatal accident that broke my leg in several places two years ago, I’d be dominating the Sprint Cup by now.

But shit happens, and it happened to me.

“Well, well, well. Look what we’ve got here. A couple of little girls thinking they can play pool like the big boys.”

I growl becauseshitjust walked in the door.

I turn around and come face-to-face with none other than Tanner Koch, one-fifth of the offspring of our sworn mortal enemies. Unfortunately, the other three-fifths of the male offspring are right behind him. They look like they’re itching for trouble.

“Girls, my ass.” Ash puffs his chest out. “I think I hear your momma calling. Your bottles are ready.”

Tanner cuts his glare to Ash, but before he can step forward, Liam steps between us, effectively pushing Ash and me back.

“What do you want?” Liam crosses his arms over chest and straightens his spine, making him look taller than he already is.

All the Mutters are at least six feet or taller. Not only is our height an advantage over the Koch brothers, but so is our strength. Not a one of them reaches five-feet-ten, and they’re all softies. That’s what happens when you work desk jobs.

Tanner gives him a broad grin and matches his stance. “Cool your jets, man. Just wanted to make sure you all got the invitation to the high-stakes poker game next month. We hope at least one of you will buy in.”

Liam laughs and shakes his head. “Hell, no. We’re not as stupid as your ancestors.”

Tanner’s nostrils flare, and he takes a step closer to Liam. “You chicken?”

“Nah, man. Just smart.” Liam smirks. “Nothing you say or do will ever goad us into putting the homestead up for grabs. Give it up.”

It’s been a longstanding battle between the Kochs and the Mutters over the rightful ownership ofourproperty.

Over a hundred years ago, their great-great-grandfather lost the homestead to our great-great-grandfather in a drunken hand of poker. They’ve been trying to get it back from us ever since. But the deed is ours, and there isn’t a damn thing they can do about it.

Not wanting to ruin my good mood or the fun I plan on having tonight, I toss my cue stick down on the table and push past my brothers.

“Come on,” I wave them on as I head toward the exit. “It’s time to eat greasy carny food.”

* * *

“Let me get that for you.”Chase wipes his thumb across my chin in the same way a mother would do for her child with a dirty face.

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