Yanking my arm free, I gave him a threatening look that should have been unmistakable. My expression didn’t incite the terror I’d hoped it would, however. He simply smiled wider.
“Why should I protect you?” I snapped.
He shrugged. “Because it looks just as bad for you as it does for me. Unless your dad doesn’t mind you gambling on illegal street racing?” He lifted an eyebrow and I had to close my eyes to scrub the enticing visual from my head. That face does not belong on that personality.
“I wasn’t…I don’t…” Opening my eyes, I stopped trying to defend myself. He was right. I shouldn’t have been there. And neither should he, not anymore, not if he was genuinely a part of the ARRC now. “Are you still…doing that?”
While I watched, transfixed, his lips curved into a smooth smile, the kind of smile a devious man used often to get out of trouble. “Still street racing? Of course not. You were lucky enough to witness my final race. I retired from that life last night.” With a wink he added, “I’m many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”
“That’s debatable,” I murmured.
His grin turned amused. “True. But I’m fully aware that the officials will ban me for life if I’m still…a part of that world. And I’m not anymore. This is what I want now.” His voice hardened and his face grew sterner. He almost looked like he was trying to convince himself.
“Fine, whatever. I really don’t care anyway,” I said, quickly turning to my bike. His crew was almost here, and the last thing I wanted was to be surrounded by Bennetis.
Slamming on my helmet, I started my motorcycle. I could feel Hayden’s eyes on me. They were like laser beams running across my skin, and everywhere I thought he might be looking began to tingle with excitement. I wished my head would tell my baser instincts to stay in the backseat where they belonged, because this guy was not an option. He was everything I didn’t want, rolled up in one undeniably sexy package. A package I had no intention of opening.
Needing to get away from him as quickly as possible, I peeled out and sped away. Dad was going to kill me for leaving tread marks on the track, but I didn’t care. I needed speed. Speed was safe. Hayden was not.
Chapter 3
The next day, when I got to the track, I noticed a handful of people hovering around the open garage doors. I wasn’t too surprised to see that I wasn’t the only early riser this morning. With Daytona right around the corner, people were fired up, eager to get out on the track. But I could instantly tell that this wasn’t a positive, We’re gonna raise hell this year meeting. Something was wrong. There were too many scowls on the faces I could see, and Myles looked like he wanted to punch a hole through the wall. Wondering what was happening, I parked my street bike near the doors and quickly hopped off to join him.
“Hey, Myles,” I said, walking over. “What’s going on?”
Myles indicated inside the garage, where Dad and his second-in-command, John, were talking to the number one racer on our team, Jimmy Holden. “Jimmy just quit. Said he took a job with Stellar Racing. Idiot. Everyone knows Luke Stellar is an asshole to race for.” With a sigh, Myles ran a hand through his piecey dark hair. “But the real sucky thing is…Jimmy’s taking LDL Motor Oil with him. Jerk not only quit, but he fucking stole a sponsor too. Asshole.”
Icy shock ran through me as I watched John and my dad doggedly trying to convince Jimmy to stay. From the look on Jimmy’s face, it was a futile attempt on their part; I knew determination when I saw it. He was leaving. He was our best bet for a top five win this year, and he was taking sponsorship money with him. This was more than just a personal blow for the team, this was potentially disastrous. It would be up to Myles and me to fill the void of his departure, since out of the four remaining racers, we were the best. Or at least, I hoped I would be among the best. I felt like a tiny fish being dropped into a shark tank and told that the entire world was doomed unless I somehow survived. The pressure to do well had just increased a thousand times over; I felt sick.
Clearly not swayed by Dad and John’s quiet words, Jimmy picked up a duffel bag and started shoving personal items inside it. Myles blew out a long breath. “I can’t watch this crap. I’m gonna go upstairs and lift weights. Or punch a bag. I need to hit something.”
I felt like joining him, but I was too stunned to move. We’d given Jimmy his start; my dad had shown him the ropes. Maybe it was wrong of me to feel betrayed—this was just business, after all—but I felt Jimmy owed us some loyalty for everything we’d done for him. Especially now, when we needed him more than ever.
Unable to stomach watching this a moment longer but unable to walk through the garage to get to the gym upstairs, I stalked over to my street bike and climbed back on. I would come back later, when the traitor was gone.
Not sure where I was going, I sped away from the garage. Benneti’s garages loomed on my right, casting my bike in shadow like some evil phantom. I wished I could blame Jimmy’s departure on Benneti. It would be easier, and far more understandable. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if Keith had placed the bug to leave in Jimmy’s ear, though. One way or another, this had to be his fault.
Avoiding the enemy’s base, I headed for the gate. Since I couldn’t take my street bike onto the track, and I didn’t want to be anywhere near the garage, I’d blow off steam in the parking lot. Scanning the lot, I saw a clear track in the pattern of the parked cars. Smiling for the first time today, I revved my engine, leaned over the gas tank, and let the bike loose. My street bike wasn’t as fast as my racing bike, but I took advantage of the slower pace to really work on my form. Time was only wasted if I allowed it to be.
After doing the circuit twice, I was in the zone, completely focused on what I was doing. That was when I noticed a motorcycle blocking my path. Cursing, I skidded my bike to a stop and ripped off my helmet. “What the hell are you doing?” I yelled at the idiot who easily could have caused us both a world of pain.
As the rider unbuckled his helmet, I realized the bike looked familiar. When the helmet was completely removed, I knew exactly where I’d seen the bike before. It was Hayden smugly smiling at me as he sat on the Honda he’d illegally raced the other morning. Wonderful.
Tilting his head at me, he calmly said, “I’m stopped in a parking lot. What are you doing?”
Irritated at both him and my thudding heart, I snapped, “Isn’t it obvious? I’m practicing.”
His lip curled up in amusement. I really hated amusing him, but man…that smile could launch a thousand ships, I was certain. My heart started thumping erratically for a completely different reason. “Call me crazy,” he slowly intoned, glancing at the sky, “but isn’t it well before noon? You have complete control over the practice track, if I’m correctly recalling the rules.”
Setting my helmet on the handlebar, I quipped, “Yes it is, and I’m surprised you remembered.”
Hayden’s smile dropped and his gaze drifted to the ground. “Yeah, well, I was encouraged to remember…I don’t think I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.” I might have just been imagining it, but I swear he rubbed his side and cringed. Had his teammates gotten rough with him? I knew he was an asshole, but beating him up over breaking a rule seemed extreme. Unless I was the one doing the beating, of course. Then it was perfectly reasonable.
Looking up at me, Hayden smiled again. It looked forced. “I swear everyone around here is just as high-strung as you and that Myles guy. Must be something in the water.”
Not liking the thought that his teammates had hurt him, and not liking that the idea of him being hurt bothered me—what the hell did I care if his teammates beat him to a pulp?—I straightened in my seat and concentrated solely on the almost-insult he’d just given me. I was not high-strung. Jerk. “I know it may seem stupid to you, but there are rules for a reason.”
He let out a humorless laugh as he edged his bike closer to mine. When we were side by side, so close our thighs were almost touching, he stopped. His eyes were liquid f
ire, like emeralds simmering in molten lava. “I never said rules were stupid, sweetheart. If there were no rules…well, then, it would be impossible for me to break them, wouldn’t it? So in a way, you could say I value rules more than most.”
He’d dropped his feet to the cement while murmuring those words to me, and our knees were touching now. The slight contact sent a shock wave straight up my thigh.
Reaching down, I pointedly pushed his knee away from mine. “That makes absolutely no sense at all.” I really didn’t know whether I was commenting on the sudden emptiness I felt or what he’d just said. He shouldn’t make me feel this way.
Hayden bit his lip as he studied me. The move instantly drew my attention to his mouth…a spot I really didn’t want to focus on. “You seem more surly than usual. Something wrong?”
His comment, or the fullness of his lips—God, I bet they were soft—provoked my agitation. I was not about to discuss my problems with him. “You don’t know anything about me,” I snapped. And you never will.
He shook his head, his expression instantly transformed into one of contempt. “And you know so much about me? You called me a thug after seeing me one time. So…let me just take a stab at what’s eating you. Daddy won’t buy you the latest and greatest to race with? What? Your Ducati not good enough for you anymore?”
Just the snotty tone of his voice would have been enough to set my teeth on edge, but what he’d said was ten times worse. I wasn’t some rich-bitch spoiled brat who was racing because I was bored—I’d been doing this my entire life. I’d researched what bike I’d wanted, then I’d gone out and gotten it—myself. My father couldn’t afford to provide bikes for all of his racers, so to help take some of the burden off his shoulders—and because I’d wanted the best bikes around—I’d stepped up and purchased my own. Or partly. I’d taken a loan out for some of it, a plan my dad had argued against. He hadn’t wanted me to be up to my eyeballs in debt, but it was a small sacrifice to help out the family business. I was not about to explain any of that to this douche, though. And besides, I was right calling Hayden a thug. That was exactly what he was.
“Get the hell away from me…before I tell Daddy you were messing with me. He has no patience for Bennetis. Or assholes.” While it made me feel like I had a thousand splinters sticking out of my skin to let him keep thinking I was some pampered heiress who had no right to be here, I wasn’t in the mood to explain myself or justify my actions. Not to him. Let him think what he wanted; I knew the truth. And besides, what did he know about sacrifice anyway? He’d probably never had to earn a damn thing in his life. He’d probably stolen everything he had, including that shiny Honda he was straddling.
Hayden worked his jaw before responding to me. The heat in his eyes was an equal match for mine, and for a minute, I couldn’t tell if the sparks flying between us were anger…or something else. His tone pure ice, he bit out, “Sure thing…princess.” Then he opened his throttle and zipped away from me. It was only then that I realized I’d been holding my breath.
When I got back to the garage, things were calmer, and Jimmy was gone. Nikki was there now, looking around at all the glum expressions with confusion on her face. She approached me the minute I stepped inside.
“Why’s everyone acting like they’re at a funeral?” Before I could answer, she asked a different question. “Why were you racing through the parking lot?” I opened my mouth, but again, she didn’t let me get a word out. “And is what Myles told me last night true…that Benneti hired some hotshot named Hayden, and that the asswipe totally insulted you?”
I paused to see if she’d let me speak. When she didn’t ask another question, I nodded. “Yes, he did, and yes, the guy was a douche.” Yesterday and today.
Nikki’s eyes widened and she suddenly looked really nervous. After making sure no one was within earshot, she quietly said, “Did he mean Hayden-Hayden…as in street-racing, undefeated, golden-boy Hayden? That Hayden?”
Rolling my eyes, I nodded again. “Yeah…same Hayden.” Unfortunately.
Nikki scrubbed her hands on her coveralls, like she was sweating. “Jesus…what are the odds that it’s the same guy? Do you think he’s still doing…that? Because he’ll get banned from the sport if someone finds out.”
For a second, I debated whether I should tell her the truth. Then I shrugged and said, “How would I know?” I didn’t want to admit that I did know, because that would be admitting that I’d talked to him. And that would lead to questions like, Why are you talking to him? and Why is he talking to you? and Do you want Myles and the guys to set him straight? On second thought, maybe I should tell her. No, Hayden’s teammates were already setting him straight…Why was that still bothering me?
“Yeah, guess you wouldn’t know…” Nikki murmured, sounding distracted. Looking around again, she lowered her voice even more. “I noticed you haven’t said anything to Myles about the whole illegal gambling thing. You’re not going to, right?” Her expression turned pleading. “Because he would seriously kill me, and then he’d probably let it slip to someone, because he blabbers when he’s stressed, and then your dad would find out and fire me. And I really love my job, Kenzie.”
I had to shake my head at that. Myles wasn’t the only one who blabbered; unless the secret was hers, Nikki couldn’t keep quiet to save her life. “Of course I won’t say anything.” While I really didn’t care if Hayden’s secret got out, I would keep quiet for Nikki’s sake. And my own, I supposed. Because Hayden was right. Even if I was only there to help Nikki that night, it looked bad for me too.
Nikki’s glee was immediate, and the bright smile that spread across her face was almost contagious. Almost. “But we have bigger problems today than your poor judgment,” I muttered, changing the subject. Her face scrunched in annoyance and I quickly explained. “Jimmy quit, and he took LDL with him.”
Her dark eyes widened in shock. “He…what?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I gotta go talk to my dad, make sure everything’s okay. We’ll catch up later, all right?” She mumbled something that sounded like “Okay,” and I started walking away. Pausing, I turned back to her. “Oh, and Nikki, if I’m going to keep silent for you, then you need to stay away from that world.” She immediately opened her mouth to answer me, but I cut her off before she could. “I’m serious, Nikki. Stay away from it.” Her expression fell, but she nodded, and I felt a little better as I left to go see my father.
As I trudged up the stairs to my dad’s office, my heart grew heavier with each step. My father didn’t often confide his financial troubles to me, but I saw signs all around that were pointing to a downward spiral. In addition to the general lack of upkeep to the property, the mechanics were using tools that should have been replaced ages ago, our supply of spare parts was disastrously low, and two of our team’s backup bikes didn’t run at all. Even worse than that, though, my oldest sister, Theresa, had recently told me that Dad had refinanced his house. Again. I felt like this season was it—a make-it-or-break-it year for Cox Racing—and I wasn’t sure if I was up to the challenge ahead of me. I’d like to think I was, and I’d tell anyone who asked that I was ready to take on the world…but doubt was seeping in, and fear was following closely on its heels.
The heavy door to my dad’s office was closed when I got there. I briefly knocked on it, and Dad’s gruff voice immediately answered. “Come in.”
I opened the door to see him sitting at his desk, poring over a messy stack of invoices. He was frowning as he ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. As I stepped inside his office, I saw that many of the bills in front of him had the word OVERDUE stamped across them in bright red ink.
Dad flipped some of the papers over when he saw it was me. “Mackenzie, good to see you. Have you been on the track yet?”
Frowning, I told him, “No, not yet.”
He sighed like he was disappointed with my answer. Great. Two seconds in and I was already letting him down. “We leave for Daytona in a week. Now isn’t the ti
me to slack off.”
“I know, and I was…” I stopped talking and shut my mouth. No matter my intentions, goofing around in the parking lot wasn’t training, and there was no way to make my dad see it as anything but a waste of time. Changing topics, I said, “I saw what happened with Jimmy.”
Leaning back in his chair, Dad studied his hands in his lap. “Ah, yes. That was…unfortunate, but nothing to be done about it now.” When he looked back up at me, there was a weariness in his eyes that never seemed to really go away anymore.
“Unfortunate?” I said, stepping around his desk to stand beside him. “Dad, it was a bit more than unfortunate. He was our best rider.”
“But not our only rider,” he answered, standing. Locking gazes with me, Dad put a firm hand on my shoulder. “I have faith in you, Mackenzie, and I know you’ll do exactly what you need to do this year.” From the sternness in his voice and the glint in his eyes, it was clear that anything less than my absolute best would not be tolerated. It was mild praise hidden under a mound of responsibility. How the hell was I supposed to stand a chance at succeeding when the bar was already set on the top rung?
I swallowed the sudden anxiety tightening my throat. “Of course, Dad. I am a Cox, after all.” Which was a blessing and a curse. Would I ride faster without the weight of his legacy on my back? That was one question I would never know the answer to.
A half smile formed on Dad’s face. “I’m glad to hear it. Now get out there and work on your laps. I need you to be ready for Daytona, and you’re not quite there yet. As I’ve told you before, you need to work on endurance. You can’t let yourself ease up when your muscles start to fatigue. Work through the pain, Mackenzie. And watch your speed on the corners. You’re going to lose control one of these days.” He clapped my shoulder, then returned to his chair, and I knew I was being dismissed.
Visualize the victory, and it will be yours. Dad used to say that to me when I was younger, racing on dirt bike tracks with a bunch of other five- and six-year-olds. Back then, it had just been about having fun. Some of that magic had faded now that so much was riding on my success. Remembering another piece of his oft-repeated advice—Your attitude will forge your future—I told him, “I’ll be ready, Dad. I’ve got this.”