Page 7 of The Hellcat Barbies: Aubree

Especially since some days I walked around with the weight of the world on my shoulders feeling guilty about some of the things I’d done after Brasi broke my heart and got sentenced to six years.

Maybe I felt that by being a blessing to others, I could somehow erase the fuck shit that I’d taken part in.

I parked next to Zora’s green Hellcat and emerged from the car.

“Aubree,” a few of the members squealed and rushed over to hug me. I chuckled as I hugged them back knowing people were probably looking at us like we were crazy.

“Who’s kicking ass today?” I asked after the pleasantries were exchanged.

Being a Hellcat Barbie was about more than driving fast. Some of the members chose not to partake in races at the track or the street races.

They just liked meeting up, hanging out, and being a part of something.

I had participated in a few street races, but I kept those few and far between because street racing was illegal, and I didn’t need the trouble.

However, at the track damn near anyone with a driver’s license, a car in good condition, a helmet, and money to pay the entry fee could race.

I had participated in two street races and four races at the track. Out of the six races, I won five.

“Storm and Lauren are racing today.”

With a bob of my head, I scanned the area.

The track was deep per usual. The Barbies were the only female car club in the area, so of course, we mostly raced men.

There were other women that raced of course.

They just came out on their own and weren’t apart of a club.

There was also a Mustang car club in the area that had a few women in it, but it was mostly made up of men.

I couldn’t even front. The one race I lost was up against a Mustang.

That muhfucker was fast and powerful, but I was just a girl that saw a dope purple car and fell in love with it.

I didn’t buy my car for the sole purpose of racing it.

Bile rose in my throat when I spotted Cook and Brasi.

Now that he was home, it appeared that seeing him unexpectedly was going to be the norm for me.

I hated that for myself. Despite the way that Brasi pushed me away and hurt my feelings, I was happy that he was home.

He looked good. Real good. His muscular physique made my mouth water.

Brasi had put on a good thirty pounds of muscle while he was incarcerated and that added to his sex appeal for sure.

He smiled at something that Cook said, and my knees buckled.

Closing my eyes briefly, I willed myself to get it together.

I could be described as a lot of things but pathetic had never been one of them.

Before he went away, I knew Brasi loved me, but he made it clear he didn’t want me to wait for him.

He also went to extreme lengths to make sure I got the hint.

All those things were tucked into my brain yet, there I was drooling over him and wishing like hell, I could wrap my legs around his waist while he gave me six years’ worth of missed dick.

When I got the news that Ish had been killed, I instantly erupted into tears.

Ish was a cool ass dude that didn’t bother anybody.

My heart ached for his mother, and Brasi.

I wanted nothing more at that time than to go to him and wrap my arms around him.

I would have put our drama to the side and been there for him.

But I couldn’t. Two pretty ass females walked up on Brasi and Cook, and I had to turn my back. I wasn’t about to watch that shit.

The Hellcat Barbies were my safe space. I could let my hair down and relax around them but suddenly, I wanted to be anywhere other than the track.

Knowing that the tears I shed six years ago and the heartbreak I felt wasn’t the end of it all had soured the fuck out of my mood.

If I wasn’t over him in six years, would I ever be?

“Hey, Bookie Butt,” Breezy approached me with a smile on her face. “I have tequila in the car if you want some. My honey is driving, so I’m good to get a lil’ tipsy.”

“I definitely want some,” I mumbled. It wasn’t a shock to me that Lucci wasn’t too far behind Breezy. He would live in her skin if he could, and I loved that for both of them. I could tell they were in love, and that was a beautiful thing.

I didn’t get jealous when I was around couples that had good healthy love.

It gave me hope. I wasn’t afraid to move on after Brasi.

If he didn’t want me, somebody did. Unfortunately, none of the guys that wanted me tugged at my heart strings or made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl the way Brasi did.

I would have loved nothing more than to have found the man of my dreams and built a beautiful life with him, so when Brasi came home, I could have shown him that he did in fact do me a favor.

But that wasn’t the case. He broke my heart for absolutely nothing.

The first sip of tequila was easing down my throat when I felt a tug on one of my curls.

I turned around slowly and came face to face with a smiling Nice.

For the second time that day, my heart sank.

Usually, it would have been good to see Nice.

But knowing that Brasi was close by made my gut churn.

Maybe if Nice wasn’t his boy, it would be kind of fun to flaunt him.

Instead, it felt like I was doing something wrong.

Like I had violated in some way despite not having a clue that they were friends.

Forcing a smile, I ignored the twisting of my intestines. “Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be out here today.”

Rather than responding, I sipped my drink.

Nice was a busy person, so even though most days he checked in, we weren’t at the stage yet where we ran everything by one another.

I couldn’t say for sure that Nice wasn’t looking for anything serious, but he was a street nigga.

I knew what came with his lifestyle. Brasi had been a street nigga too, but he was different.

He was definitely one of one. Sleeping around, constantly being out in the club, those kinds of things didn’t appeal to Brasi.

He was a great person to be tied to. Even when we weren’t in a relationship, I was confident that he wasn’t dealing with other women.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have that kind of faith in Nice.

It was still early, however. I also knew that soon, he’d be trying his hand at having sex with me. Since seeing Brasi, the thought of sex with Nice made my skin crawl. I wasn’t sure what was going on with me, but I didn’t like it.

“What are you doing when you leave here?”

“I’m not sure yet. My shoulder is much better, but I don’t want to do too much. I’ll have to see how I feel.”

“I get that.” Nice stepped closer, and I resisted the urge to step away. “Hit me up if you feel like company later.”

“Will do.” Another forced smile.

When Nice walked away, I glanced up, and Brasi was staring at me.

My heart slammed into my ribcage. The organ was beating like I’d been caught doing something wrong.

Brasi looked away before I could catch the emotion flickering in his eyes.

I couldn’t tell if it was regret, anger, or jealousy.

Whatever it was, he didn’t look too pleased.

But he was the one that left me. He pushed me away and broke my heart in the process, so he didn’t get to look at me like he was the one that was disappointed in me.

No amount of tequila helped my mood, so after watching a few races, I got in my car and left.

I was no longer in the mood to be around people.

Especially not Brasi or Nice. The fact that I couldn’t relieve stress by playing football was another factor that played into my piss poor mood.

I drove home blinking back tears. Life would never be perfect, and I was old enough to know that.

My parents had been married for thirty years, and I was sure for my mom it was like living in the Twilight Zone.

My father had a great job as a foreman on a construction site for years.

Then one day, when Autumn and I were thirteen, he had a heart attack, and he never went back to work.

My mother had a job at a retail store and between that and my father’s social security check each month, things were tight, but we managed.

My father wasn’t the kind of person to open up about his feelings, so I never found out what changed with him.

Maybe he felt like less than a man because he couldn’t work and provide, but he became emotionally detached.

He only said enough to get his point across.

Most days, he was out in the garage all day doing God knows what.

He and my mother weren’t in a good space, but she refused to leave him.

I never wanted to settle or live in misery.

I’d remain single before I did all that.

Sometimes, loneliness meant being at peace.

Most days, I was happy. But since Brasi walked into my house with Nice all that had changed.

It seemed that all the healing I’d done over the course of six years had come undone.

And that shit was enough to drive my ass into depression.