by James Tate
He just shook his head, not meeting my eyes. “Nothing. You all good for this race? That bit of fancy driving you did earlier probably wore down the tread a bit.” He kicked one of the tires with his heel, but didn’t release me from his embrace. In fact, he shifted a bit so that both arms wrapped around me and held me a bit tighter. “How’s your wrist?”
I smiled at his concern. He was such a worry-wart sometimes. “I’m fine, my wrist is fine, the ’stang is fine. We’ll nail this, just like every other Widowmaker I’ve run in.”
Dante huffed. “Yeah, well that was when you were driving the butterfly.”
I cringed at the mention of my—I mean, Dante’s—car that I’d crashed. “I still owe you for that.”
“Nope,” he responded in a gruff voice. “She was always yours anyway. I had the papers put in your name years ago.”
My jaw dropped, and I stared up at him. “What? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rolled his eyes, but there was a smug smile on his lips. “Because you would have pitched a fit and demanded I change it back. But she was always your car, so it felt wrong having my name on the papers.” He shrugged, and his hands rubbed my upper arms. “You should get warmed up, the race starts in five.”
I nodded, but hugged him tighter for a moment. He’d done so much for me over the years, words couldn’t really express how much I appreciated our friendship. He hugged me back, kissing my head and pressing his face into my dark hair.
Then all of a sudden, he was gone.
“Beck, no!” I screamed in fury as he slammed Dante onto the hood of the Mustang and drew his fist back to punch him in the face. My voice froze him, but his thunderstorm gaze didn’t shift from Dante. “Sebastian Roman Beckett, if you don’t take your hands off Dante right this fucking second I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.” My voice was low, trembling with anger, and my fists clenched at my sides.
Beck lowered his fist, but didn’t let Dante go. “You’re saying there’s still a chance you will?”
Words failed me as my lips parted, but no sound came out. Beck’s stormy gaze captured mine and held me immobile. “Let him go, Beck,” I eventually said, ignoring his question. “Go back to Jefferson. You don’t belong here.”
He held my gaze for another heavy, tense moment. “Neither do you, Butterfly.”
I flinched at his use of my nickname.
“Just fuck off, Beck,” I whispered tiredly. “No one wants you here, least of all me.”
His jaw tightened and his body radiated tension. Slowly, he released Dante’s shirt from his iron grip and backed up a step. Call me psychic, but I guessed Dante’s intentions and darted forward to grab him by the collar of his jacket before he could launch himself at Beck. Not that I gave a shit if Beck’s face got messed up, but I’d seen that dangerous fuck in action. I stopped Dante to spare my friend any more injuries.
“Enough,” I snapped at Dante, flicking my death glare at Beck and Jasper. “Dante, we have a race. Let’s go.”
Dante snarled a curse but followed me when I started heading over to where Rabbit was gathering the racers for a briefing. His hand rested on the small of my back, over the thin red fabric of my tank, and I shivered again. I still hadn’t grabbed my jacket and the skin on my arms was pebbling with cold.
“Take your hand off her or I will fucking break it off,” a dark voice threatened, and I whipped around to find Beck and Jasper right there.
“Try it,” Dante sneered back. “Let’s see how long it takes for you to win Riles over after you touch her best friend. Again.”
“Hey!” I barked. “That’s enough. Briefing is for racers only, now fuck off.”
Jasper raised his hand, looking past me to Rabbit and Joe—the race organizer. “Hey, I’d like to race.”
Joe gave Jasper a small frown, then leaned to the side to peer at Jasper’s obnoxiously bright car. “Uhh ... who are you again? This isn’t really a free-for-all.”
“I’m friends with the Butterfly,” Jasper replied with a cocky-as-fuck grin. He pushed his way past both Beck and Dante to sling his arm over my shoulders. “Right, babe?”
Joey’s brows shot up at me. “You vouching for this rich kid, Riley?”
I shot Jasper a glare and shrugged out of his hold, even as a low growl of warning came from Beck. “Fuck no,” I spat. “They’re harassing me.”
Jasper made an offended sound, and his face fell, but I just glared at him. Who the hell did he think he was, pretending like we were all buddy-buddy? They used me. Played me. We weren’t friends. Not even fucking close.
Joey shrugged and shook his head. “None of my drivers are vouching for you, you’re shit out of luck, rich kid. Go sit on the sidelines and watch how the big boys—er, and girls—do it.”
There was a small scuffle behind me, but I didn’t bother turning around. I knew what I’d find. Some sort of testosterone fueled standoff between Beck and Dante.
That shit was getting real old, real fast.
“Let’s roll,” Rabbit said with a wicked grin, throwing me a wink. “Ready to get knocked off that throne, Riles? This is my year, I can feel it.”
I scoffed a laugh, shaking my head as I sidestepped both Beck and Jasper and made my way back to the Mustang. I was just opening my door when he caught up to me. I knew he would.
His hand closed over my bare upper arm, and I shivered—except this time it wasn’t from the cold.
“Don’t do this, Riley,” Beck demanded, his voice rough. “I’ve heard about this race. People have died in this fucking thing.”
“No shit, Beck.” I laughed with bitterness. “It’s called Widowmaker for a reason.” I spun around to face him, jerking my arm out of his grip. I shoved him sharply in the chest, forcing him back a step and creating some space between us. “The next time you touch me without permission, I’ll make you regret it.”
I slid into the Mustang before he could say anything more, but as I slammed the door shut I couldn’t help catching his murmured response.
“I already do.”
Despite my anger toward him, that small comment felt like it had just cracked my heart in two. Clenching my jaw, I swallowed past the tears that threatened in the face of Beck’s regret and revved my engine.
“See you at the finish line,” I snapped, giving Beck one last glare before taking my car over to join the other racers at the starting point.
* * *
Lucky for me, the racers and spectators at Widowmaker were anything but impressed by Beck and Jasper and their flashy cars. I had no idea where Evan and Dylan had ended up, but they were probably warned not to bother coming by.
This place did not like Delta heirs.
The thought made me snicker as I shifted gears and slammed my foot down a bit harder to increase the gap between me and Rabbit. He hadn’t been joking about those NOS upgrades, but all the power in the world was useless if you were a shitty driver.
Not that Rabbit was shit, but he didn’t have a patch on me, and he knew it.
The two of us flew over the finish line with a car length between us. We eased off the gas and let our cars slow down gently before circling back to where the cheering spectators waited. Rabbit pulled his car up beside me and rolled down his window as we crawled back toward the crowd, and I did the same.
“Still got it, eh, Butterfly?” He was just teasing, but that nickname had taken on a whole life of its own and I gritted my teeth.
“Never lost it, Rabbit,” I replied with a grim smile. “Clean race this time, or what I saw of it.”
He jerked his head in a nod. “Joe is drinking, so can’t have been any crashes.” He nodded ahead where the race organizer had an arm slung around a petite blonde, and a can of something in his other hand.
Rabbit and I had reached the cleared area for parking, and we cut our engines.
“Time to celebrate.” He grinned at me, then hopped out of his car and caught the little redhead who practically threw herself at him.
/> I unclicked my seatbelt and reached for the handle, but before I could grab it the door flew out of my grip and I was snatched out of the vehicle. Arms like steel pinned me between a hard body and the side of the Mustang, and I let out a small squeak of shock and protest.
“I swear to fuck, I want to lock you in a damn cage and never let you out,” Beck muttered into the side of my neck where his face was pressed. “Jasper is right, you drive like a fucking wet-dream, but you could have fucking died, Butterfly.”
The shock cleared a little and I struggled in his embrace, trying to free myself. All he did was tighten his grip further, and my anger flared. Shifting my weight, I crossed my fingers that my aim was true and brought my knee up. Hard.
Bullseye.
Beck immediately released me, groaning and clutching his junk as I side-stepped out of reach.
“What did I fucking tell you about touching me, Beck?” I snarled at him. “And no chick wants to be locked in a cage, you deranged psychopath.”
With a disgusted sneer, I left him cradling his family jewels while I snatched my jacket out of the Mustang and stalked across the abandoned lot to where Dante waited ... with Jasper.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I snapped at Dante, barely sparing a cursory glance at Jasper. My winning mood was officially soured.
Dante heaved a sigh and exchanged a look with Jasper. Since when the fuck did Dante and Jasper know each other well enough to share looks?
“Riles, babe, I think—” Whatever Dante was about to say, I didn’t want to hear it.
“Nope.” I threw up a hand to cut off his words and shook my head. “You’re on my side or theirs. No middle ground.” Dante opened his mouth, and I knew he was going to argue, just based on the set of his jaw, so I glared at him harder. “Them or me, Dante.”
He held my gaze for a long time, like he was checking if I was serious or not.
“You, obviously,” he finally said on a long sigh. “Always you, Riles. But—”
My sharpened death glare made him think twice about whatever he was going to say, and he just shook his head instead.
“Can I say something?” Jasper asked, putting his hand in the air like we were in elementary school or some shit.
“No,” I snapped, grabbing Dante’s hand and stalking back toward the Mustang.
Beck was limping in our direction, his face drawn, but I breezed past him like he didn’t even exist.
“So much for a fun night out,” I snapped when Dante joined me in the car and I revved the engine. I could see that the other racers who’d just finished looked confused that I was leaving, but fuck them. I had zero desires to hang around those lying, traitorous bastards a second longer.
We drove in silence for a long time before Dante shifted in his seat to stare at me.
“What pissed you off more?” he asked. “The fact that they played you? Or that you fell in love with that asshole?”
My jaw dropped, and I shot Dante a glare. “I did not fall in love with him,” I spluttered my denial, but my cheeks heated and my stomach churned.
“Uh huh,” Dante murmured, then cranked the stereo and wound down his window. Apparently that’s all the conversation he was in the mood for.
Fucking fine by me. The last thing I wanted to do, was examine whether I was more pissed off at Beck for forcing me to kill a man, or the fact that he made me ... care.
5
Dante dropped me off at Jefferson the next morning, and I waited until the very last minute to get out at Ducis Academy. A uniform, makeup and hair shit, had been delivered to Dante’s last night, so I was dressed the part. Even if I was all broken inside.
“See you later, Riles,” he called through the window. “Call me if you need anything.”
I nodded and blew him a kiss. “I will. Drive carefully back to Jersey.”
He had shit to do this week and couldn’t hang around to babysit me. Which was fine. I was planning on keeping my head down, ignoring Delta, and moving into my new apartment. One promise Catherine was going to keep.
“Go away,” I growled as Evan fell into step beside me on my way to class.
“Would if I could,” he muttered on a sigh, but it was his irritated tone that had me pausing in the empty hallway and scowling at him.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded. “I didn’t ask you to stalk me, so just go away.”
Evan rolled his eyes, scrubbing a hand through his brown and blond streaked hair. “Cut the shit, Riles. It’s Beck you’re pissed at so quit taking it out on the rest of us.”
Outrage choked me for a moment, and I stared at him like he’d just grown three heads. “Ex-cuse me? I’m not pissed at you? Oh, I guess I just imagined that happy family bullshit at breakfast just hours before masked goons kidnapped me naked and then I got forced to shoot someone.” I was trying really fucking hard to keep my voice down, but hot pulses of anger had me on the edge of losing control.
Evan darted his gaze around to make sure no one was listening before glaring at me. “You know it’s not safe to talk about that shit here, Riley.” His voice was pitched low and full of ... what? Regret? Doubtful. “But it’s not an option to leave you alone. Things ... shit has happened while you’ve been gone and it’s important that people know you’re still one of us.”
I scoffed a humorless laugh. “I’ve fallen for this cloak and dagger bullshit one too many times, Evan. Why should I believe a damn word out of your mouth?”
He didn’t reply, his jaw tight and his fists curled by his side as he looked down the hallway, like he was waiting for...
“Of course,” I sneered. “You were nothing but a glorified stalling tactic.”
Beck stormed toward us with long strides, and I shook my head. I couldn’t face him again so soon. Not after how rattled he’d left me after the race. Despite my tough bitch act, and my strong words to Dante, when we’d gotten home I’d spent the whole night crying. It was only through the grace of makeup that the evidence didn’t show today in my puffy eyes.
“I’m late,” I muttered, hurrying toward my class and slipping inside mere moments before Beck reached us.
I was totally unsurprised to see Evan stroll casually into the class about five minutes later, despite the fact that he was a fucking senior in the university part of Ducis. Apparently the teachers didn’t see an issue with it either as Mr. Greensmith barely batted an eyelid at Evan’s presence. Money talks, I guess.
Since the incident where I was forced to kill a man, the real world had faded away, and I’d been living in a weird suspended reality. So it was no surprise that I’d completely forgotten my class was calculus. And being in calculus meant…
“Riley!” Eddy’s familiar voice hurt almost as much as Beck’s.
I slowly lifted my eyes and met her wide, worried ones. “Yes,” I said without inflection.
She blinked at me, and my chest ached at the wounded expression on her face.
“I’ve been so worried about you,” she said softly. “Jasper wouldn’t tell me anything, you weren’t answering your phone, and you haven’t been in school for over a week.”
I shot Evan the quickest side eye ever, and he gave a brief shake of his head.
She doesn’t know.
The worst fucking shit of my life had happened in the past week, and my best friend didn’t know. Of course she didn’t. This was all about the fucking heirs of Delta. But … she was still part of them, of this world that I was determined to cut out of my life as much as possible.
She took a shaky step closer. “Did I do something?”
My eyes burned as I lurched to my feet. Pushing past her, I sprinted from the room, slamming open the door of the nearest bathroom and hauling ass inside.
My breathing was so fast that I felt light headed, and I wondered if maybe I was hyperventilating or something, because I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Bracing myself against the sinks, I stared at my reflection. Despite my skill with makeup, I’d barely managed to h
ide the dark circles under my eyes. Even if I hadn’t had Beck angst keeping me awake, nightmares were a constant lately. I’d been having them ever since I found myself in this world, only now I could add a gunshot and blood spatter across walls to the fucked up visions.
The door opened again, and I knew it was Eddy without even turning my head.
“Girl, seriously. We are not leaving this fucking room until you talk to me.”
Straightening, I turned to her, relieved that my breathing had returned to normal. The tightness in my chest remained though. “There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t trust anyone involved with Delta.”
Eddy’s face fell. “I don’t understand. You were fitting in really well, all of the guys consider you one of them. The first chick, at least since they were adults, that they’ve ever truly cared about. What happened to screw it all up?”
They fucking happened!
I wanted to scream, at the top of my lungs. “They betrayed me,” I said. “I trusted them, and they let me walk right into a fucked up situation.”
Eddy threw her hands up, exasperation creasing her face. “You know that Delta controls them. They have to play the game, otherwise shit gets really messed up. You have to ignore the bad stuff and remember the times that were real … remember how they made you feel when everything was on the line.”
Anger washed away my sadness. “If I hear the word game one more goddamn time, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
Some of my anger was forced because I was trying really hard not to think about her other words. I did remember lots of times those fuckers had been there for me. Starting with the plane crash—they’d saved my life. The training. The family breakfast. How Dylan had told me to remember that moment when we were all together. Beck had said that this was the only real thing they had. Something worth more than money.
So why hadn’t they stepped up for me this time? How could they let me walk into something like murder without a fucking heads-up? How could they hurt my best and oldest friend? Threaten to kill him?