“Everyone tried to talk me out of this race. Beckett, Lilly, even Jimmy had something to say. They didn’t think it was good for me. To be on the same track. There was too much distraction. And if I lost, would I have proved what I needed to prove? So, I pushed myself hard. Too hard at times. I stopped drinking, stopped the wild nights, and I trained. I worried my team. My crew and my friends. But they didn’t matter. Winning this race for my brother was the only thing that mattered to me.”
She wiggles out of my hold to grab my attention. “Cash, you know that won’t bring him back.”
Damn straight I do, and that’s what hurts the most. Because nights when I want to quit and throw in the towel I think, maybe, just maybe, if I win this race, it will. “I know. I’m learning to come to terms with that. There’ve been times I’ve folded and thought about dropping out. I’ve slipped and gotten shitfaced drunk. The media is a trigger for me. They paint Luke to be this great racer who blew his chance. And that wasn’t the case. Then they paint me as the younger brother, reckless and on the verge of making the same errors—”
“You won’t, though.”
“I know. I’m not where I am today because I make errors. And Monterey won’t be any different than any other race. In three days, I’ll be on that course, and my focus will be where it needs to be. I’m done drinking. I’m done making excuses and letting everyone around me down. Yes, I do have something to prove, but with this race, once I win it, I’ll be able to give my brother something from the grave and move on. I need this. I won’t fuck it up.”
And I won’t. I owe that to my brother.
She stretches her head back and places her lips on my chin. “Well then, let’s go win that race, Mr. Huntington.” God, I love her. Fuck, I do. Without a doubt. I twist us until her back hits the mattress and I’m hovering over her.
“I agree, Ms. Monroe, but not before I get some proper fuel in me.” I crush my lips to hers.
Luna drives the whole way, letting me sleep off the rest of my bender. When we hit the hotel, reporters are already lined up and waiting. I spot Lilly and Beckett, ready to step in.
“Just pull up front.” I point.
“I would, but I may take out a reporter,” she says, and I laugh as she swerves to avoid the building crowd.
“Don’t worry, they’ll move. Once we get close, Lilly will step in and do her magic.” And she does. She may only be five-four and barely a hundred pounds, but she’ll take down the hordes with the roar of a lion—that’s why she gets paid what she does.
As soon as Luna puts my car in park, Lilly opens my door. “Welcome to Monterey. Hope the drive was good.” Beckett walks around to help Luna out, then escorts her to my side. With Lilly on my left and Beckett on Luna’s right, they create a barricade as we walk into the hotel. Lights flash, people scream my name, but I ignore it all and wrap my arm around Luna, keeping her safe. It’s not until we’re in the private elevators and settled into our room that I’m able to breath steady again.
“You good, Huntington?” Beckett finally asks.
“Yep. Couldn’t be better.” I glance over at Luna, who’s trying to stay out of the way.
“Good. We have a lot to accomplish in the next three days. First thing tomorrow, we’re on the track. You good with that?”
“Absolutely.”
Lilly steps in. “We’re allowing reporters in the stands while you practice. I tried to limit them, but it’s in your contract. They are allowed to be there. After, you have to answer a few questions, smile, and take some photos with some kids. They’re not allowed to ask you anything about Luke or last year’s race. If they do, we will sue the shit out of them.”
“Five a.m., Cash. No excuses,” Beckett says in his stern tone.
“Got it, Captain.” I salute him, and he rolls his eyes, turns on his heel, and walks out, Lilly right behind him.
I turn to face Luna, who’s quietly sitting on the edge of the bed. “Well, now that they’re gone, what should we do?” I slept the whole day, so I’m not tired. A growl from her stomach fills the room, and she throws her hands over her belly. “Food it is.” I walk over to the desk, grabbing the room service menu and dial down, ordering practically everything on the menu.
“You know there’s only two of us, right?” Luna chimes in as I hang up.
“Yeah, but I’ve seen you in action. You’re gonna need your energy. So, I’ll need to keep feeding you.” Her eye rolls are seriously fucking sexy. I’m not sure there’s a single thing about her that’s not. I walk over to her, forcing her to lay down as I hover over her. “Have I said thank you lately?”
She gazes up at me with such sincerity, that I have to fight to hold in all the emotion swirling in my head. “Yeah, and I’m hoping you’re about to show me too.”
So. Damn. Sexy. Happiness beams across my face, knowing we’re on the same page and I dip low, getting a taste of her sweet lips. “I was always better at showing then telling…” and damn do I show her just how thankful I am.
Cash
I’m seated in my NTT Indy series car, the engine purring under my grip. I’m playing nice while testing out the course, knowing the reporters are eating it up. The infamous Cash Huntington back at the place his brother went up in flames. I waved as I walked out, signed some autographs for kids, and took some photos with sponsors and their grabby-handed wives.
I block out the mile marker every time I speed by it, keeping the memories at bay, but they still break through.
“All right, hot shot, you think you know it all, answer me this—who leads the field to set the pace for the race?”
“Pace car, easy. Next.” I laugh, feeling sure of myself.
“Wet conditions, spraying tailing cars—”
I answer before he even finishes. “Rooster tail. Give me something hard.”
Luke laughs, taking a swig of his beer. “Fine. You’re on the last lap. RPMs are sitting steady at twelve thousand, V6 engine purrin’ away at your fingertips. You come to the bend, and the track is condensed with other drivers. You’re on the outside, but damn, you want to be on that inside track. Do you slow down to slice through the lanes and take the bend or speed up?”
“Neither. Being on the inside lane is a disadvantage. You lose time and momentum having to take those sharper turns. What you want is the middle lane. You get the best of both worlds.”
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, and my chest swells at the pride and approval in his smile. “Okay, little brother. You win. Go let Becks know I’m pulling the restrictions off you—Jesus!”
He grunts as I throw my arms around him, hugging him tight. “I won’t let you down, promise.”
“I know you won’t, kid. You never have.”
Luke was so proud of me. Until he wasn’t. He didn’t bat an eye at the fame that came along with being a professional racecar driver. He just wanted to race. When he watched me start to lose my way, it disappointed him. He spent more time than he should have working with me, trying to get me to keep my eye on the prize.
After his death, I went on a downward spiral until Beckett threatened to take away my career. He just had to mention Colton Donavan, and I quickly got my act together. I stopped drinking and trained hard. But other things took the place of my addictions. The need for speed being one. Beckett hated it, and even more so because he couldn’t control me. No one could. Not like Luke.
The first time I drank after that was when I won the Fontana Grand Prix. The night I met Luna. Regretfully, a few slip ups along the way. But last night, after feeding my girl and making her moan my name until she passed out, I swore to her and myself I was done. From here on out, my focus is on the sport. And of course, my newest addiction.
“Damn, you look good out there.”
“You flirting with me, Becks? If I didn’t have a girl on my mind, I’d let you take me to dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bring her in. Make sure to smile pretty. You’re being filmed.” And that I do. As I climb out, I give the reporters ex
actly what they want: the Cash Huntington charm. I wave to the stands and walk over, handing Jimmy my helmet.
“Mr. Huntington, you looked amazing out there. What are your predictions for the upcoming race?” a reporter asks.
“I’m predicting sunny skies and lots of speed, darlin’.” She practically drops her mic.
“Cash! You think Justice Miles is going to beat you?”
I address the question. “I’ve never been known to say no to a good challenge, so I’ll guess we’ll see in a couple days.” I get a satisfied head nod.
“Cash, who’s the pretty girl you drove in with? Is she the one? Are you finally tied down?”
I laugh at the question. Tied down? You fucking bet. “I’m not a kiss-and-tell kinda guy…” I lean in to get a glimpse of his VIP tag, “Steve, but I will tell you she sure is somethin’ special. Thanks, everyone. See ya on the track in a couple days.” I shut down the rest of the questions while Jimmy helps me fight through the crowd to get inside in search of my girl.
Luna
I hustle down the corridor to meet Cash. Holy cow, he was amazing out there. There’s no doubt he’ll dominate this race. He seems good. Happy. Focused. I can’t wait to jump in his arms and kiss the hell out of him. I dodge a group of people and some reporters waiting off to the side as he appears through the opening. That’s when I start to run. Thank God he’s quick, because I think I jumped too soon, almost landing on the ground a few inches in front of him. His laughter seeps into me, and it makes me dizzy.
“Hey there, princess. Happy to see me?” He kisses me hard and quick.
“Maybe a little. You looked great out there.”
“Good. I was showing off to impress you. Did it work?”
“Yep. I’m all hot now. May have to have an early dinner in our room if you know what I mean.” He grabs my ass, pressing me closer to him, not caring who’s watching, and starts jogging up the corridor.
“Don’t tempt a man like me, Luna. I’ll accept the offer and double down with dessert in bed.” He nips at my neck, taking the corner almost too fast and knocking into a group of bystanders. “Oh shit, excuse us.”
“Oh my god! Cash Huntington! Puh-lease can we get a picture and an autograph?” They start to throw out names of sponsors and who their daddies are. Cash gives me an apologetic squeeze and places my feet back on the ground.
“Sure, ladies.”
I step to the side, letting him do his thing. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and without much thought, I pull it out and peer at the incoming message. Like a steel bat slamming into my stomach, my phone slips from my fingertips as I lean forward, almost vomiting on my shoe. Cold sweat beads along my forehead, and I start to shake as my stomach twists.
“Jesus, babe, you okay?” Cash is by my side instantly. I try to swallow away the saliva thickening in my throat.
“Fine,” I choke. He bends down to grab my phone, but I panic and snatch it from his grip.
“You sure? What just happened? Shit, you look like you saw a ghost.”
“It’s nothing. I…uh, shoot, think something I ate for lunch isn’t sitting well.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s get you upstairs.” He says goodbye to the girls, forgoing the photos, and escorts us through the lobby to our room. The second the door shuts, I hide myself in the bathroom. Fear overcomes me, and I lean over the toilet bowl and vomit. Wiping at my sweaty brow, I take in a deep breath and heave again.
“Luna, you okay in there? Can I get you anything?” Cash asks from the other side of the door.
“No, I’m fine.” I’m so far from fine. I’m fucked. This can’t be happening. This has to be a bad dream. A really bad fucking dream. When I grab for my phone and re-read the text message, it confirms this is all real.
Unknown: Peekaboo, bitch. I see you.
How? Why now? Tears start to pour down my cheeks.
Another text comes through, and I almost smash the phone without reading it.
Unknown: Time to make my money back. Tonight. 1 a.m. sharp. N 36.6777 ° W 121.6555 °”. You’re smart enough to lift my car, you should be smart enough to figure out the location. You lose, and I gut your new boytoy. You win, consider this your first installment of what you fucking owe me. Don’t be late.
I cover my face, trying to muffle my sobs, but Cash opens the door and kneels beside me.
“Hey, hey…what’s wrong?”
What do I say? I can’t tell him the truth. Not now. It would destroy all the focus he’s built. I would be the cause if anything goes wrong during this race. “I feel so horrible. What an awful time to get sick.”
“Hey, don’t worry about the race. Let’s get you in bed. I’ll order up some crackers and ginger ale. We can pay-per-view some overpriced movies and chill.”
I shake my head. I need to be alone. I need to think. “No, you have a full night of PR events. Just leave me here. I’ll be fine.”
“Not a chance, princess. Nice try.” He stands and grabs my hand. My legs are too weak to stand, so he lifts me in his arms and carries me to the bed. No matter how gently he lays me on the mattress, I still threaten to crack, losing it and confess everything while begging him not to leave me once he finds out what I’ve done.
Mustering up all the strength I can, I rein in my emotions and keep my lips locked. I allow him to tuck me in while he orders room service and picks a movie. I let him tell me I’m beautiful and important. I allow him to make plans for a future I can’t be a part of. And when he finally falls asleep, I slip out of bed, take one last look at him, and sneak out.
I take the side stairs to avoid the press and hand the valet the ticket to his car. I’m starting to fall apart at the seams. I swallow a sob and cover my mouth. The valet pulls up and hands me the keys to Cash’s car, and I slide in and take off before anyone recognizes me. I beat my fists on the steering wheel as I drive toward the coordinates. An undisclosed location. Hosts don’t choose locations that are easily picked up by cops. My mind goes back to Cash. He’s going to hate me. He’s going to wake up and I’ll be gone without any explanation. No matter what angle I take, I’m going to hurt him. “I’m so sorry, Cash,” I cry to myself as I drive through the dark streets. “If there was any other way…” There’s not though. They know where I am. And I refuse to let them hurt him. I’d die before that happened.
The location is thirty minutes from the hotel. The streets are blacked out until a bubble of glowing neon lights appear from nowhere—just like every other street race. I slow to a stop, and a kid wearing neon stripes guides me to the left to check-in. Apprehension swells in my gut. I contemplate turning around. Cash will help you. He’ll listen. He may, but I can’t get him involved. It’s too risky. Ignoring my own warnings, I pull up and check in, giving my name. I’m on the list. He directs me to an open spot on the starting line. My heart hammers in my chest. I feel like I’m going to throw up again. I can do this. I just need to win—
Banging on my window startles me and I jump, turning to my closed window to see Cash standing there, looking ready to commit murder.
Fuck. Fuck!
“Get out of the car, Luna.” His voice is calm, but he’s anything but. I debate on speeding away. I can’t handle his anger and regret. “Now,” he says with more force. I unlock my seat belt and climb out, unsure what will happen next.
“How did you find me?”
“That’s what you want to know? GPS, Luna. You don’t think I track everything about this car?” He shakes his head, his hands ruthless as he shoves his fingers through his hair. “Wanna explain to me why you snuck out of our hotel room in the middle of the night, hijacked my car, and came to the middle of nowhere to enter an illegal street race?”
My voice shakes and my face becomes hot as anxiety eats away at my nerves. “Listen, I can explain—”
“Please do.”
“I—I—I—”
“Today, Luna!”
“I need to win this race or something bad is going to happen. I did somethi
ng bad, and they found me. If I don’t win, they’re going to—they’ll—”
The host flashes the lights, indicating the race is about to start. Cash stares at me, fury pouring from him. “I’m sorry, I have to—”
“Move out of the way. Wait by the fucking track.”
“Wha—? What do you mean, I have to—”
“You’re not doing shit. I said wait for me,” he snaps, his shoulder bruising mine as he clips past me, then opens his car door and gets in, shutting the door. The flagger waves his flag at Cash’s car, waiting for him to signal he’s ready. He flicks his brights. My stomach drops. He’s…he’s doing the race for me? No, he can’t! I bang on the window, needing him to stop whatever crazy plan he has in his head.
“Cash, no, please you can’t…you don’t understand.” He ignores me. His expression is cold and hard, his lips pinched and his jaw tight. He doesn’t glance my way, but I don’t need to see his eyes to know there’s a storm brewing behind them. I bang harder on the glass, but it’s as if I don’t exist to him. He drops the steering wheel with one hand, adjusting the car. Tears burn my eyelids as I draw in a deep breath.
In my peripheral vision, I see the flag raise. “Cash, please…” But he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. His lethal stare is piercing my heart and I grip my stomach, having no choice but to step away.
The flagger rips his hands down and the race begins.
He won.
He won the race and the money I owe to keep us both alive. I hop from one foot to the other, anxious and scared. What happens now? Does someone simply pop out of the shadows and collect the winnings? Do I need to worry about them hurting me or Cash? Vincent Leoni wouldn’t be here. Would he? The air is warm, but it doesn’t stop the chills that skate down my arms. I wrap my arms around myself, cradling my uneasy stomach.
Junkie: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 16