As though he’d heard my grumblings, my phone rang that instant. I snatched it up, fumbled, muttered a curse, then answered it.
“Hey,” I said, my heart hammering with relief. “God, I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday, Ley.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, conveniently ignoring how much it did matter. “What’s going on, Jared? Has someone been hurt, had an accident?”
He paused, his breath hitching. A prickling simmered across my arms, creeping up over the back of my neck.
“It’s complicated, Ley.”
“I’m a bright girl. I’m sure I can follow,” I said, a little more harshly than I’d intended.
He heaved a sigh, the kind that used up lungfuls of air. “We’ll talk when I get there.”
“We won’t have time when you get here.”
“Then we’ll talk after the race on Sunday.” His voice held a finality that I knew he wouldn’t budge from.
“Okay,” I said. “Will you call me when you arrive in France?”
“Of course. Look, I gotta go.”
He hung up, leaving me staring at my phone, still none the wiser as to the cause of his family emergency.
Sitting around moping would only make the time go slower, so I decided a leisurely breakfast in the hotel restaurant would help cure my hangover. I took a seat by the window that overlooked a park and gave my breakfast order to the server. After swallowing enough coffee to sink a ship, two croissants stuffed with ham and cheese, and an apple Danish, I began to feel human again, my irritation with Jared’s lack of information receding along with my hangover.
After breakfast, I went for a walk. The warmth from the sun chased away the despondency caused by Jared’s absence. After an hour strolling around town, I headed back to my hotel. I turned down a side street, a shortcut I’d discovered a couple of years ago. A stand outside a tourist shop caught my attention. Wandering over, I picked up a keyring that had a tiny silver racecar dangling from its circular holder. A perfect gift for Jared. Smiling to myself, I strolled inside to pay. As I waited in line, I glanced around the shop, a typical tourist haven with every inch of space taken up.
I paid for the keyring, slipping it into my jacket pocket. As I turned to leave, my gaze fell on a stand housing French and English newspapers. A picture on the front of an English tabloid drew my eye. My knees buckled, and I put out a hand to steady myself. Awash with horror, and stabbed by the most dreadful pins and needles over my entire body, I shuffled over. With trembling hands, I lifted out the newspaper.
Right there, plastered all over the front page, was a picture of Jared standing on some concrete steps in front of what looked like a hotel. In his arms was Roxy, her face buried in his neck. The cheating bastard wore a warm, loving smile.
Underneath a tagline: It’s California Dreaming for love-rat Jared Kane.
In a daze, I walked away, still clutching the paper. The newsagent ran after me, demanding payment. I scrabbled around in my pocket and handed over some loose change. I couldn’t remember the journey back to the hotel, but the second I stepped inside my room, I allowed my legs to give way beneath me, and I sank to the floor.
Everything I’d feared had come true, the reason I’d stayed away from dating drivers—until Jared—coming back to bite me. They were all man-whores. None of them were trustworthy.
Jared and Roxy.
A shared history.
I should have known.
Jared
I slumped into the back of the car, already exhausted before the day had even begun. But despite my extreme tiredness and my worry for Noah, I couldn’t wait to get to the track. I’d downloaded the videos of Thomas in free practice yesterday, watching them on the flight over, and the bastard had been too good for my liking. Time to step away, young pretender.
I texted Jack as soon as I’d landed to let him know I was on my way, but I hadn’t received a reply. This lack of a response didn’t surprise me. He’d be far too busy getting two cars ready for qualifying.
I put in a call to Paisley. She’d be running around busy, but not quite as busy as Jack. The call went to voicemail. I closed my eyes and listened to the message, her voice soothing my ragged nerves.
“Hey, Ley,” I said. “I’m on my way to the track. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”
I still hadn’t figured out what to say to either Paisley or Jack about my unexpected absence. I’d promised Roxy I’d keep the issues with Noah quiet, and I wouldn’t break that promise, but equally, I needed a plausible explanation. Citing family emergency would work with Jack—he was far too professional to grill me—but Paisley would want to know the details.
We pulled up at the security gate. I showed my ID, and the guard waved us through. I asked the driver to take my bags to the hotel, then climbed out of the car. I headed for the team garage with a lightness in my step. Excitement pooled low in my belly at the thought of seeing Paisley. Now that I’d finally arrived, I couldn’t wait.
I increased my stride, only fractionally managing to hold back from breaking into a run. I couldn’t get there nearly as fast as I wanted to because there were a few fans milling around and I had to keep stopping to sign autographs. It was a part of the job I didn’t usually mind. I liked talking to them, particularly the die-hard ones who really knew their stuff. But today, I resented the intrusion because it held me back from my goal—to get to my girl, wrap her in my arms, and vow to never let go.
I finally reached our garage, my smile so wide that my cheeks hurt. I spotted Jack deep in conversation with Lewis, and Angus had his head inside the cockpit of my car.
“Hey, guys,” I said. “It’s great to be back.”
Angus straightened so slowly, I thought for a second he had a bad back. Then Jack sent a furious look my way, and a prickle of unease crept up my spine. But Lewis acted first. He sprinted across the garage, clamped his hand around my throat, and slammed me up against the wall.
“You absolute fucker,” he yelled, spittle foaming at the sides of his mouth. “I fucking told her not to get involved with a sleaze like you.”
Stunned, I grabbed his hand, trying to stop him choking me. “What the fuck?” I wheezed. “Let me go, Lewis.”
In response to my request, he tightened his grip. My eyes glazed over, and I almost passed out from the pressure he applied to my carotid artery. There was just enough space between us for me to get my knee up. I slammed it as hard as I could into his groin. Lewis cried out and dropped to the floor, writhing, while I choked up a lung, coughing and spluttering, taking huge gulps of air.
“What the hell is going on?” I rasped with a voice that sounded nothing like mine. I gently rubbed the tender skin on my throat and turned my attention to Jack. “Will someone catch me up, because I haven’t a clue what just happened here.”
I must have gotten a good aim in with Lewis. He was still incapable of talking. Jack wasn’t, though. He came to stand right in front of me, hatred spewing from his every pore.
“I wondered when we’d see your treacherous face.”
Confused, I frowned. “What does that even mean? Where’s Paisley?”
“Not here,” he barked at me. “I wish I could sack you, but I can’t. I’ve always sworn I would never allow my personal life to get in the way of the business I’m running here, but so help me God, I’ve never come so close to breaking that vow.”
I held my hands in the air. “Whoa, hang on a second. I haven’t got a clue what I’m supposed to have done.”
“No?” Jack snorted. He spun on his heel and stomped across the garage, returning with a newspaper. He slammed it against my chest, the second time he’d committed the same act, the first time when he found out Paisley and I were an item. This time, though, it wasn’t a picture of me and Paisley with her legs wrapped around my waist. Instead, my eyes widened at a photograph of Roxy and me in one of those terrible British tabloids. And even I h
ad to admit it didn’t look good.
I stared at it while Lewis clambered to his feet, his expression still pained from the knee to his balls.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I said, shaking my head and cursing the bastard photographer who’d landed me in a whole heap of shit I hadn’t anticipated.
Lewis laughed, but it was most definitely without mirth. “Of course you’d say that you cheating piece of shit.”
“Where’s Paisley?” I asked Jack again. I had zero interest in explaining myself to anyone but her. She was the only one I owed an explanation to, and the only one who’d get one, albeit not one that would provide full disclosure.
“She’s with her mother.” Jack poked a finger in my chest. “After seeing that she fell to pieces. I sent her back to the UK, even though she fought me on it, and not only because she’d be no bloody use to me here, but because I didn’t want you,” another poke, “anywhere near my daughter.”
I spun on my heel. If Paisley had gone back to England, then that was where I’d head to. I could not allow this to fester.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Jack roared.
“I’m going to see Paisley.”
Jack grabbed my arm, holding me in place. “You are getting in that fucking car and racing.”
I launched my shoulder upward, shaking him off. “Screw racing. Screw you. Screw my fucking career. Paisley is the only one who matters.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Jack said, sneering. “She isn’t at home.”
I got up in his face. “Where is she?”
Jack pressed his forehead to mine. “Don’t push me, boy. Get in that car. Do your fucking job, the job I pay you an obscene amount of money to do. I have no intention of telling you where my daughter is.”
He stormed off, leaving me with a triumphant Lewis and a distraught Angus.
“I’m glad you’ve shown your true colors,” Lewis said gleefully. “Paisley was always too good for you. And now, not only does she know it, but the whole goddamn world knows it.”
He followed Jack out of the garage.
I cut my attention to Angus. “You believe this shit, too?”
He shrugged. “It’s right there, Jared. In glorious Technicolor.”
“Pictures lie, Angus. You know that. I know that. Fuck, everyone knows that.”
“Who is she?”
I sighed, tossing the paper where it belonged. In the trash. “My best friend’s sister. She was upset. I comforted her. The photographer got lucky.”
Angus whistled. “And yet you didn’t call Paisley to explain when that appeared in the newspaper?”
“This is the first time I’ve seen it. This picture didn’t make it to the States, and even if it had, I’ve been too busy to take a leak, let alone find the time to read the news.”
“Doing what?”
Ah, the question I couldn’t answer. “None of your business.” I scraped a hand over my face. “I’m going to talk to Jack.”
I found Jack alone in the motorhome, fortunately for me. Certainly made this easier. I didn’t need Lewis muttering in his ear, riling him up any further.
He glared at me, but at least he didn’t demand I leave. I sat on a chair adjacent to him and leaned my forearms on my knees.
“Will you at least hear me out before you sign off on my execution?”
He flicked a wrist. “It’d better be good.”
I locked eyes with him. “I haven’t cheated on Paisley. I would never cheat on her. I love her, and believe me when I say that it pisses me off that I’m telling you that before I’ve even told her.”
My declaration of love for his daughter caught his attention, and he sat up a little straighter, his eyes locked on mine. “Go on.”
“Roxy, the girl I’m pictured with, is my best friend’s sister. The three of us grew up together. I’ve known them both since junior high. While I was in California, she called asking for my help. I can’t give you details, but it’s to do with my best friend. As much as I wanted to get back to Paisley, not to mention race, I didn’t hesitate in staying on, because that’s what friends do.”
“You said it was a family emergency,” Jack said.
“Noah, that’s my friend, and Roxy are family. As good as anyway.” I beseeched him with my eyes, pouring as much sincerity into them as I had within me. “Please, Jack, you have to believe me. That picture is nothing more than two friends struggling to deal with a truly terrible situation, comforting each other.”
Jack expelled a heavy sigh. “I want to believe you.”
“Then do,” I said. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. Please, let me talk to Paisley. Tell me where she is. She’s everything to me, Jack.”
He scuffed a hand over the top of his head and then nodded. Relief rushed through me. Thank God.
“But not until after the race,” he said, the father retreating and the businessman coming to the fore. “Her mother has taken her away on one of those spa weekends that women seem to like so much, and I want them to have that bonding time. Anyway, it’s better to give her time to calm down. You’ll have a better chance of her listening to you.”
My lips curved into a glimmer of a smile. He knew his daughter well. “Yes, sir.”
“Besides, Thomas did such a cracking job in free practice yesterday, you’ve work to do to convince me you’re still worth backing.”
“I’ll work my nuts off, sir,” I said, standing.
That weekend must have been one of the slowest I’d ever experienced. During every free moment, I sent Paisley a text and filled her voicemail with messages, pleading with her to hear me out when I arrived on Sunday night. Jack also put in a call on my behalf. She answered that one, but when I asked him how it had gone, he’d simply shook his head and shrugged.
The race was tough, and long, but as I crossed the finish line the undisputed winner, I didn’t know whether wanting to make Paisley proud had spurred me on to the victory, or whether my need to prove to Jack that he had the right driver behind the wheel had resulted in such an emphatic win.
It took forever to get through the presentations and the post-race interviews where more than one reporter asked why I’d missed free practice on Friday. I gave the stock answer—family emergency—despite them wanting more. Tough shit.
After I’d finished, I sought out Jack. I found him in the motorhome with Devon and Angus.
“You heard from Paisley?” I asked for the gazillionth time that day.
He shook his head. “Not since last night.”
“She still resisting hearing me out?”
“Yep.”
I blew out a breath. “Look, Jack, I know I should stick around to talk to the sponsors, not to mention the debriefing tomorrow, but I’m asking for a pass.”
“Probably be a hospital pass when Paisley gets hold of you,” Devon said, although the glint in his eye told me he was teasing.
“More than likely,” I said.
Jack gestured at me dismissively. “Go and talk to my daughter,” he said gruffly. “Because until you’ve convinced her of your innocence, I’m going to be a mechanic down.”
I chuckled. “Thank you. I’ll see you on Thursday at the factory.”
I dodged a few television presenters and fans hoping for an autograph and a picture, and sank into the soft leather in the back of my car. After picking up my stuff from the hotel, we set off for the airport.
The normal post-race buzz after a win was worryingly absent. Winning had no meaning if I couldn’t share it with Paisley.
I widened my eyes at the unconscious thought.
And then I knew exactly what was wrong. I’d been so insistent that racing would always come first—hell, I’d told Paisley that a hundred times—but I’d been wrong. It wasn’t that racing came first and she came second. Or vice versa. It was that one couldn’t exist in harmony without the other. Yin and Yang. I needed both equally. Without Paisley in my life, racing wasn’t enough anymore. A
nd without being able to race, I couldn’t be the man I was meant to be, nor the man she deserved.
Adrenaline sped through my veins, giving me a renewed energy. Next stop, Paisley’s family home.
And I wouldn’t be leaving without her.
Paisley
I picked at the plate of food Mum had Tess, our housekeeper, bring to my room. There was something comforting about being in my old bedroom, the place where I’d grown up. The place where bad things didn’t happen, or if they did, my sanctuary, as well as a cuddle from my parents, made everything better again.
But a parental cuddle wouldn’t fix me this time. The pain I felt was bone deep. It spread to every part of me, its claws buried so far in, the damage they’d cause if ripped out would be irreparable.
I listened to Jared’s voicemails over and over. His pleading with me to call him, his insistence he’d done nothing wrong. The picture of him in the paper with Roxy had been perfectly innocent.
Utter crap.
Jared would be on his way by now. Dad had told me when he’d called that Jared had set off right after the race. He’d somehow managed to convince my dad of his innocence, but he’d have to work a helluva lot harder to convince me. See, Dad didn’t have all the facts, Jared’s past with Roxy for one. He didn’t know they used to be more than just good friends. But I fucking knew. Hence why I wasn’t quite so fast in believing his stout denials.
I’d given Mum strict instructions not to let him in when he arrived, but she’d ignore my request. Mum was one of those stiff-upper-lip types who firmly believed you should face your problems head-on.
“Punch him if it makes you feel better,” she’d say, “but whatever you do, don’t run and hide.”
It had been five hours since I’d watched him stand on the top step of the podium, the winner’s trophy above his head, covered from head to toe in champagne that Tate had poured over him after coming in second. Lewis, I noticed, had not joined in with the festivities. He stood off to one side sipping from his magnum of champagne, fire and damnation shooting from his eyes—all aimed at Jared.
The Full Velocity Series Box Set Page 18