Alpha Dragon’s Second Chance
Alpha Dragon Club
Abigail Raines
Contents
Chapter One: Jude
Chapter Two: Sierra
Chapter Three: Jude
Chapter Four: Sierra
Chapter Five: Jude
Chapter Six: Sierra
Chapter Seven: Jude
Chapter Eight: Sierra
Chapter Nine: Jude
Chapter Ten: Sierra
Chapter Eleven: Jude
Chapter Twelve: Sierra
Chapter Thirteen: Jude
Chapter Fourteen: Sierra
Chapter Fifteen: Jude
Chapter Sixteen: Sierra
Chapter Seventeen: Jude
Also by Abigail Raines
About the Author
© Copyright 2019 - All rights reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
Chapter One: Jude
The world blurred by like it was all just air as I gripped the steering wheel. I was being careful. At least I was being more careful than usual. I’d only reached a speed of about one hundred and fifty miles per hour. Driving race cars had always felt to me as freeing as flying. It was close anyway. Except with racing, you got to drive some gorgeous cars. The smell of a Ferrari turned me on almost as much as the smell of a beautiful woman. The world was a narrowed tunnel within my helmet and on my third lap I finally slowed to a stop as the pit crew ran out to help me out of the car.
I took off my helmet as I stepped out onto the smooth asphalt, and waved to the observing kids who were whooping and hollering as I was handed a bottle of water. I splashed some on my head. I was used to heat, being a dragon who was always walking around with the heat of my fire inside me. But the world did get damn hot inside my helmet. I handed the helmet off to a crewman and zipped down my tracksuit as I walked out to the stands where the kids were watching.
“That was awesome!” A little tow-headed boy yelled as he put up his hand for me to slap.
I high fived all the kids, still catching my breath. I have a bad problem with holding my breath sometimes when I race. I’ve improved though. It’s not exactly the safest way to drive a car at potentially two hundred miles an hour. Larry, one of the crew guys, cast me a suspicious raised eyebrow when he saw that I was winded and I rolled my eyes. Larry was always on my case about that.
“It’s the sun,” I said to Larry, before leaning over the gate between the track and stands. The sun was blazing down. It was June in New York and it was starting to heat up. That made it particularly hot out here on the race track.
There were about a dozen kids all clustered with some chaperones and crew. They were all sick kids from St. Joseph’s Hospital where the underprivileged kids tended to end up. My family had donated a boat load of money to the place over the years but a little while back I started to wonder if it wouldn’t be nice to do something for the kids to whom we were donating. Taking them out to the track for a couple hours with the permission of parents and doctors had seemed like a nice option. My dad kept telling me it was a waste of time. I’d branched out beyond the track too. I’d had kid-friendly celebrities over to the hospital to hang out with the children and provided other entertainment. It wasn’t an official non-profit or anything. But it was something to do that I liked.
“Jude!” A little girl with the telltale bald head of chemotherapy grinned up at me, looking far too pale even under the sun.
“Hey, Theresa,” I said softly, leaning over to talk to her. She was the sickest kid in the group and I’d paid her a lot of attention, even though it made my heart ache a little just to talk to her. Her prognosis was not great. “How’re you doing?”
I chatted with Theresa and the other kids for a few minutes before they had to leave with their chaperones. Theresa wanted to know if I raced cars professionally. Apparently, since the first time she’d visited the track, she’d started following races. I hated to break it to her that I was only an amateur. I left out the part where I didn’t have a real job and my dad thought I was a huge disappointment. I tend to prefer it when the kids actually think I’m cool.
Now I unzipped my track suit and drank some more ice cold water as the kids were carted away back to their shuttle from the hospital. I tipped my head back and grinned at the sensation of the too hot sun on my face. Dragons like me can never get enough sun. We drink it up like blooming flowers.
“Gotta work on your breathing,” Larry said, eyeing me warily as he walked out to park the car back in its garage. “Can’t breathe, can’t drive. I’ll tell your dad if you don’t get better at it.” He was kidding about the last part. Larry hated my dad almost as much as I did.
My dad owns the track and he owns most of the cars that race on it. He’s the CEO of Fairchild, a luxury brand car company that makes the kind of cars only millionaires and billionaires buy...and a few that are just slightly less ostentatious. The company has its hands in other industries too, but it was most famous for its cars. About half the time when I drove around on my dad’s track, I was driving a Fairchild. But I do branch out from time to time. Who doesn’t love a Ferrari?
“I told you!” I said, throwing up my hands. “It’s the sun!”
“The sun, huh?” The voice was low and throaty and it made me feel like I was on fire suddenly. My heart started racing almost as fast as the Ferrari. I had not heard that voice in two long years. I licked my lips, and squinted at Sierra as she came walking toward me from down the track.
I’d heard that Sierra was returning from her long fellowship in London, but she had sworn to me that she was flying in later that week. Yet here she was, grinning at me and squinting into the sun. She was wearing a light skirt and a t-shirt. She was also wearing the same thin silver necklace with the little dragon head charm that I’d given her when I was twelve-years-old. Her hair was lighter now; a pretty strawberry blonde, the wavy locks blowing around in the warm breeze.
She was beautiful, and I suddenly felt like a flustered teenager again.
Sierra Lowell was somehow the one who got away but still was close to my heart..
“Would I lie?” I said, shrugging my shoulders as I met her out on the track. I tried to sound casual but I couldn’t stop the wide grin that took over my face and then I was running up to Sierra and sweeping her into my arms.
Sierra Lowell was my best friend and the love of my life...not that she knew about that second part.
“Of course, you would,” she said, laughing and throwing her arms around my neck. “Especially if it keeps you racing cars.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in?” I said, swinging her around.
I’d been losing my mind for the last few weeks, knowing Sierra was coming back to New York. I’d visited her in London a time or two but that had been a year ago with one thing and another. The more we were apart, the more I didn’t want to seem like I needed to visit her. But I was honest with myself, nothing in my life felt quite right without Sierra around.
“I wanted to surprise you!” Sierra said, shrieking as I swung her in the air. She was still light as a feather. I’d always been able to throw her right over my shoulder since back in eighth grade. The two of us had been inseparable since even before that. I’d met Sierra in sixth grade at a prestigious priv
ate school where I’d been dutifully flunking. From that first day on, we were the best of friends.
“Consider me surprised, you lunatic,” I said, chuckling. “Oh my God, I’m so hot. C’mon, let’s get something to drink, yeah?”
“Something to drink.” Sierra threw her arm around my shoulder as I walked her to the entrance to the locker rooms under the stands. “That means we’re gonna be three sheets to the wind in Brooklyn, right?”
“Hopefully,” I said, wagging my eyebrows.
I changed into my dark jeans and some designer t-shirt that had probably caused a stupid amount of money. Sierra waited for me by some vending machines outside the locker room and I fussed with my hair , pretending I wasn’t nervous just seeing Sierra again. I never used to be nervous around her. I hadn’t even been nervous once I’d realized I was in love with her and that had been about a decade ago. But I hadn’t seen her in so long. I worried I would forget how to be around her, and give myself away. Now I took a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror.
“Don’t be weird,” I said to the guy in the mirror voted by New York LifeStyle Magazine as New York’s Most Eligible Bachelor just six months ago. “It’s just Sierra. It’s your best friend. Don’t be weird.”
I looked good anyway. I was twenty-four and I had a little sun tan from hanging out on the track without getting too damaged. I had the razor sharp jawline that ran in my family and just a hint of stubble to set it off. I had bright blue-green eyes (that everyone who had ever interviewed me felt compelled to mention) and high cheekbones. My hair was dark and wavy and just now hitting my shoulders. I looked good. I knew that… Not that it had ever mattered to Sierra like it had mattered to every other girl. But I was used to being Mr. Confident. Being born gorgeous and into exorbitant wealth hadn’t exactly made me uncertain around the opposite sex. I was charming too...and maybe not the most humble person in the world. Sierra had always teased me about it.
“You know, you do look good in that track suit,” Sierra said when I came out to join her. I threw my arm around her shoulders again and led her out to my car.
“Hmm. My dad says I look like a child playing dress up,” I said dryly.
“Well...your dad.” Sierra rolled her eyes. She had always understood about the touchy relationship between me and my father, even when I sometimes didn’t.
“When did you get in though?” I said, our voices echoing in the tunnels under the track stands. “I would’ve come get you.”
“I had a driver,” she said, laughing. “You ninny. I had a red-eye. I’ve barely slept. But I wanted to see you, so I taxi’d out here today. Where are we going?”
“The Orchid,” I said, off the top of my head. The Orchid was a cafe with a bar in Brooklyn that had a nice patio with misters and air. It was a nice spot for summer and just exclusive enough not to be crowded. You usually needed a reservation, but I wasn’t worried about that. It was also newly opened since Sierra had been in London, and maybe I wanted to impress her a little without being too obvious about it. “You’ll love it.”
“Sounds good.”
We arrived at my car, a sleek black Fairchild XO that was absurdly expensive and which I loved showing off as Fairchild myself. I also liked to point out to people that I’d had a hand in the design of it...even if my dad liked to downplay that whenever it came up.
I opened Sierra’s door for her and she gave me a funny look that made my breath a little short as I shut it again and walked around. I climbed in and put on my shades and Sierra squinted at me. “You never opened doors for me.”
“I’ve developed bad habits since you’ve been gone,” I said, winking over the rim of my sunglasses before I started up the car and peeled out of the deserted lot.
When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I groaned out loud. I already knew who that was.
“Problem?” Sierra said, relaxing in her seat as I drove steadily out of Long Island.
“My dad keeps calling me,” I muttered.
“Aha,” Sierra said. “What’s he want from you this time? Steady work?”
I gave her a wry look. She was right and wrong on that one. I did work...but not steadily. That also wasn’t counting the non-profit stuff with the hospital kids that was taking up more and more of my time. But I was spoiled. I knew that. It was hard not to get touchy though when Sierra got into it. She had always been the harder worker between us.
It wasn’t as if my father had never said, “Why can’t you be more like Sierra?”
But I’d never been angry at her for that. In fact, I’d always wanted to answer that it was impossible to be like Sierra. Because Sierra, in my book, had always been perfect.
“Very funny,” I said, as I sped down the highway. “Nah, he’s winning some award… New York Good Citizen’s whatever… He wants me to go. Be the good son. Pretend we’re a happy family. I don’t know why he can’t just go with his girlfriend of the month.”
“I thought he’d been with Francesca for a year?” Sierra said.
It had been a long time since Sierra had quietly pointed out when I was exaggerating and I bristled even while realizing I’d sorely missed it. “Whatever,” I said, making my face. “You get the point. I don’t want to go. I hate that shit.”
“Free booze,” Sierra said.
“I mean all my booze is free really,” I said.
“Hot ladies?” Sierra said, raising her eyebrows.
“Mmm.” I shrugged.
There had been ladies, plenty of them. Why wouldn’t there be? I was single and hot and I could have almost whoever I wanted. I’d used to talk to Sierra about my conquests. We’d always talked to each other about that stuff. But I felt weird about it now. There was also the fact that the longer I spent in love with Sierra while looking for the same thing elsewhere without finding it, the more melancholy I got about the whole thing. I wasn’t excited to talk about my complete lack of actual love. There was no glory in no strings sex. That was easy.
“Are you alright?” Sierra said, looking me up and down even as I drove.
“Yeah!” I said quickly. “It’s the sun.”
She laughed at that but I was lying. I’d been so eager for Sierra to come back from her two years on a journalism fellowship at Oxford, and yet now I almost felt a little sad about it. But I didn’t want to make her sad either and I inwardly resolved to stop sulking.
“So!” I said, as we drove into Brooklyn. “Tell me, Si. What’s the plan now that you’re back? World domination via your brilliant writing, I assume?”
Sierra sighed heavily and as casually as if she were talking about her next lunch she said, “Well, I’m probably getting married.”
Chapter Two: Sierra
Jude’s car swerved, and I helped, clutching the dashboard as he expertly brought us back in line on the highway. I gaped at him, my heart still racing.
“Jesus, Jude!” Same old Jude. He had been scaring the crap out of me one way or another for the last thirteen years or so. I don’t know why I’d ever assume that would change. It was actually part of his charm.
“You’re getting married?” Jude said. He looked over at me over his shades, suddenly a little pale. It made me roll my eyes. Trust Jude to be absolutely terrified by the very idea of marriage.
“I said probably,” I said, shaking my head. He had such a funny look on his face. I’d missed his face so much for the last two years. There had been calls and texts and social media and all that stuff. But it just wasn’t the same. It had only made me miss him more.
Now here we were, the two musketeers again. It felt a little off, like we hadn’t just automatically fallen back into our groove. But I knew we would eventually. Jude was considered a “bad boy” at least among the aristocratic dragon shifters our family had always socialized with and even among the humans too. But that was only a kind of face he put up. I knew the real Jude. He was only a bad boy if “bad boy” meant unfailingly kind, warm, loving, and generous. Sometimes he could be selfish. But we were both
of us young. He always managed to make up for it. He had always been my closest friend and my constant. I had no fears of that changing any time soon, even if I did eventually get married.
“To who?” Jude said, staring out at the road.
“Oh, there’s just this guy,” I said, squirming in my seat. I’d been bracing myself to tell Jude about Edward for months. Not that there was really a whole lot to tell. “Edward.”
“Edward?” Jude said. “Edward who?”
“Eddie Didion,” I murmured. “They’re out of Connecticut. They moved to New York a couple of years ago. You’ve never met Eddie Didion? He’s our age. Maybe a little older.”
“Nope,” Jude said. “Never met Eddie Didion.”
“Apparently my parents went to school with his parents,” I said. “So my mother put me in touch with Eddie. We’ve just been emailing each other here and there. That’s all. I just did it to shut my mom up. You know how she is.”
“But why would you be getting married?” Jude turned off a boulevard and onto a quiet tree-lined street and I got a flash of the two of us running around Brooklyn when we were younger. We used to go to clubs and then sneak up onto the roofs and go flying off into the night only to land out in Central Park. We felt like we owned the universe.
“Oh, you know how my parents are,” I said, sighing. “Especially my mom. Gotta keep that family lineage going. The great dragon aristocracy and all that. New heirs…”
“Do you want to get married?” Jude said.
I hated that question. I’d been raised my whole life to become a respectable mate to some deserving dragon someday. It was a part of being loyal to the family and I couldn’t just let go of that. It was ingrained in me. Jude had been raised the same way...in theory. But his life had been more turbulent than mine and he’d always been more rebellious. The two of us had fought about this a hundred times at least. But now we were older and the prospect of marriage and finding a proper mate was creeping up on the both of us. Neither of us could just ignore it anymore. If I was honest, I liked the idea of having a family.
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