Furious Rush

by S. C. Stephens

  He tentatively raised his hand, then softly cupped my cheek. The contact shocked reality back to my system, and every reason I didn’t want him touching me came flaring back to life. Not him.

  Raising my hands to his chest, I shoved him back. “Hey! Just because I agreed to race with you doesn’t mean I agreed to do anything else with you.” The shock on Hayden’s face made me stumble over my words. “I mean…you’re with that girl, and…you have a kid, for God’s sake. You shouldn’t be…” I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with him. What he did and who he did it with didn’t matter. At all.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, confusion clearly written all over his face.

  Well, shit. Now I was going to have to explain that I’d kind of been keeping tabs on him. “The bar…that woman…I saw you in town with her and a little girl, and you all looked so…” I squeezed my eyes shut, mortified, then cracked one open. “She’s not your girlfriend?”

  Hayden’s gaze shifted over my shoulder for a second before returning to mine. “Wait, are you talking about Izzy? You saw me with her daughter and you thought…” His confusion shifted to amusement so suddenly that I instantly knew I’d gotten it all wrong. Okay, not his baby momma then. “No, there is nothing going on between Izzy and me. She’s like my sister,” he said with a laugh. “And Antonia is definitely not my daughter. I’m completely single, Kenzie, if that’s what you’re asking.” A devilish gleam brightened his eyes.”

  Feeling embarrassed, self-conscious, and so uncomfortable I wished I could run to the beach and slip under the waves for an hour, I blurted out, “Did you have anything to do with what happened to Myles?” I checked on him as often as I could, and he was still convinced Hayden was the reason he crashed.

  The amusement on Hayden’s face winked out in a flash; it was replaced with cold, hard steel. “What? Why would you ask me that? Why would you even think that?”

  This was better. Being the source of his anger was much easier to deal with than being the source of his mirth. “Rumor is, you were so good at street racing because you made sure you’d win. Rumor is, you’ll do anything to get to the top.”

  A vein in his neck began to pulsate as his mood darkened. “And you believe every rumor you hear?”

  The heat in his eyes was making my heartbeat quicken for a completely different reason; how was he still this attractive when his blood was boiling? “No. But I believe our mechanics don’t know what happened to Myles’s bike. I believe he’s too good of a rider to lose control for no reason. And when he says he heard a pop and saw a flash of light before his bike started rattling to pieces…well, I believe that too.”

  A strange expression flickered across Hayden’s face, and his eyes were speculative when he looked away. Was that surprise on his face? Or guilt? His features were smooth again when he looked back at me. “I left the streets for a reason, Kenzie, and I have no desire to go back. I’m trying to start over, and the last thing I want to do is mess that up. Believe me or don’t, but I didn’t touch Myles’s bike.”

  I really wasn’t sure whether I could believe him. But sadly, I needed him too much to walk away.

  Chapter 11

  After a month and a half of night racing with Hayden, I finally saw my day times catch up to my evening performances. It was exhilarating to see that, slowly but surely, training with Hayden was working, and I was becoming a more confident racer. I wanted to shout it to the world that I’d found the secret to my success. But unfortunately, it really was a secret.

  Seeing Hayden almost every night was oddly intoxicating. The simmering heat between us hadn’t dissipated any. In fact, it was so much worse. When we were standing close together, staring at each other, and his hand brushed my thigh, it was almost painful to ignore the desire to grab him and pull him into me. But I refused to cross that line with him. I was fully aware that he was only using me to help himself…and I wasn’t about to let him use my body as well as my racing skills.

  But sometimes it was hard to remember that, because sometimes being around him felt a little too…familiar. After his little truth or dare game, we started talking more, and I was getting more comfortable around him. I still wasn’t entirely positive what he was up to, but he’d become such an intrinsic part of my life that I couldn’t imagine not meeting up with him anymore. And when it was just us on the track, I tended to forget about who he was and what he represented, and what he might or might not be doing, and I just enjoyed being with someone who pushed me to be my best. I was beginning to feel very…free…with him. And that terrified me. It helped that he still got called away almost every night. He never said why, and he deflected whenever I asked, and that kept some very important space between us. Because freeing or not, he wasn’t someone I could trust.

  While my double life was helping my career, it made me feel really guilty around my teammates. Especially whenever they praised me on my improved times. Dealing with Dad was the hardest, though. A couple of weeks into late-night practices with Hayden, he’d told me, “Your times are getting there, Kenzie. A lot more in line with Road America. Hit the gym a little more often, and you might be able to get that extra boost you’ll need to tackle Barber.” He’d even patted my shoulder after he’d said it. Sure, it wasn’t glowing, superfluous praise, but it was something, and it made me want more, made me want to work harder, push myself…step even farther out of my comfort zone.

  With the memory of Dad’s praise on my mind, I was grinning ear to ear one beautiful June morning when I walked into the Cox garage. Nikki was there, working on a bike. Myles was with her, which was a welcome sight. I’d been visiting him most nights since that bleak drop-in. He was slowly letting go of his depression, and his fun-loving personality was beginning to return. That wasn’t to say he’d released any of his anger toward Hayden. No, that he was holding on to as fiercely as ever.

  Nikki straightened from the bike when she saw me. “Well, I guess coming in a little later really is paying off for you. Not only are your times better, but you’re looking exceptionally peppy today. Maybe I should start sleeping in,” she joked to Myles.

  Giving her a playful scowl, I retorted, “I’m peppy every day. Cheery is practically my middle name.” My lips wouldn’t hold the frown, and a smile erupted on my face. God, I was peppy today.

  Nikki rolled her eyes, then cast an incredulous look at Myles. His expression was completely blank as he stared at me, then he started laughing. He laughed so hard he put a hand to his collarbone and started muttering, “Ow, ow, ow.” Wiping tears from his eyes, he chuckled, “Cheery…that’s a good one, Kenzie.”

  I tried to glare at him, but I couldn’t even pretend I was angry. Laughing, I left them and went to put on my leathers.

  Minutes later, I was zipping around the track at breakneck speeds. The course hadn’t been changed since last week, and since I was practicing on it twice a day, I knew it by heart. My mind started to wander as I rode low through the curves. I started thinking about going through these turns with Hayden just inches in front of me, or sometimes a foot or two behind me. I thought of how it made me laugh every time I passed him. And then I thought of afterward, when we’d stop at the entrance to the track and he’d remove his helmet as he hopped off his bike, and his eyes would lock with mine…

  After our hour or so of practice, we usually talked for a little bit before we called it quits for the night. For the most part, Hayden asked me questions about my family—where I’d grown up, what happened to my mom, what it was like having sisters. He was less of an open book. The only thing I’d gotten out of him so far was that he was an only child, and his favorite color was blue. I never pressed too hard for more. I think I was scared to find out something I didn’t want to know. I was having enough difficulty with the horrible realization that not only was I insanely attracted to him, but I kind of…liked him. If I found out that he was every bit as bad as Myles and my father said he was
…well, I just wasn’t ready for this bubble to pop yet. I still needed him too much.

  As I worked on my practice laps, I glanced over at the Benneti side of the track. I was on the long turn closest to their garage, and I could see a group of people standing around outside it. That piqued my interest. Was that Hayden there in the back? What had he been up to since we’d parted ways late last night? And where did he go when his mysterious caller pulled him away…?

  I was almost through the corner when I saw something that jarred me so hard, I slammed on the brakes. My bike protested the sudden change of velocity, and I almost cartwheeled the damn thing before getting it under control. Coming to a rest, I looked behind me to where the Benneti garage could be seen over the low wall surrounding the course. There were four guys out there, and three of them were clearly ganging up on one—the monkey in the middle was being shoved around by the trio of bullies. I couldn’t breathe when I saw that it was Hayden being surrounded. I knew his teammates didn’t like him, but surely it wouldn’t come down to violence. They’d stop short of that. They’d laugh at Hayden’s expense, then leave him alone.

  I could tell right away that wasn’t going to happen, though. While I watched in horror, two guys grabbed Hayden’s arms, trapping him, and the third guy socked him in the gut before he could break free. I was off my bike in an instant, and just about to run over there and do something to help him when reality washed over me like glacial water. I can’t help him. He was neck-deep in Benneti Land, and I couldn’t step foot outside of the track wall. I shouldn’t even be watching so blatantly, in case someone noticed, but I couldn’t avert my eyes. Get out of there, Hayden, I thought, ripping off my helmet.

  Hayden was desperately trying to get free, but the thugs on either side were holding him tight, and the nonstop blows to the stomach weren’t allowing him to catch his breath, let alone fight back. The guy in front of Hayden was screaming things as he pummeled him. “Think you’re better than everyone else ’cause you’re Keith’s little pet project? Think you’re hot shit ’cause you live above his garage, ride his bike, eat his fucking food? You’re nothing, worm! He found you in the trash, and when he’s done with you, you’ll go back to the trash. But whether you’re Keith’s lapdog or not, if you ever touch our fucking bikes again, we’ll fucking kill you!”

  Shock at what I was hearing froze me solid. What had he done to their bikes? And wait…he lived with Keith? The icy surprise melted into rage as they continued beating him. Regardless of what he’d done, they had no right to touch him! Just when I couldn’t stand another second of seeing Hayden in pain, just when I was about to throw away my job to help him, Hayden finally yanked one of his arms free. Within seconds he was slugging the guy who had his other arm pinned. Then he was a whirling storm of fury. Before I could close my gaping mouth, he had all three guys down on the ground, panting and spitting up blood.

  Hayden kicked the guy who’d been attacking him in the stomach, then leaned over him and growled, “If you ever fucking touch me again, I’ll break every fucking bone in your body.”

  I wanted to be disgusted by what he’d done…but I wasn’t. As I watched him saunter back into his garage, a smile broke over my face. Holy shit…Hayden’s a badass. And for some reason, it made him that much hotter. But what the hell had he done to make them so angry in the first place?

  When I got to the parking lot of the track later that evening, Hayden was already there. Helmet resting on his bike, he was standing by the inner gate, flipping his leather pouch of lock-picking tools into the air. His smile was relaxed and breezy as he absentmindedly caught the tools. He didn’t look at all like he’d been in a fight earlier. He just looked…gorgeous. “Hey, Twenty-Two. I think tonight is your night.”

  Lifting my visor as I pulled my bike up next to him, I asked, “My night to do what? Win? Yeah, I already knew that.” I flashed him a teasing grin and he laughed.

  “No. Well, maybe, but what I meant was this…” He handed me the tool set as his sentence trailed off. His face was eager, as if he found leading me to the dark side enjoyable.

  Working my lip, I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m good for the year on illegal activities.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve actually committed an illegal activity before?”

  Looking around, I said, “You mean besides this? Well…I sped in a school zone once.”

  He started laughing so hard, he bent over. “Oh God…you’re so damn cute.”

  Wanting the warmth in my chest to fade away—and also wanting to embrace it with every fiber of my soul—I yanked the tools from his hand. “Fine. I’ll give it a try.” Anything to stop him from saying stuff like that.

  Taking off my helmet, I squatted down in front of the lock. I’d seen him do this more times than I could count by now, but I’d never tried it before. Hayden pointed out which tools to use, all while explaining the logistics of how locks operated. I had it popped open before he finished. “Wow, you’re a natural,” he said, pride in his voice.

  Rolling my eyes, I handed him back his tools. “Well, don’t think I’m going to help you in your next burglary or anything.”

  I thought he’d laugh, but he frowned instead. “I’m not a thief.”

  The indignation in his eyes was so severe it caught me off guard. “I know,” I murmured, although I wasn’t sure if I truly knew that or not.

  As if nothing I’d just said had bothered him, his expression instantly shifted into one of amusement. “I am pretty amazing at practical jokes, though. Just ask my old high school principal. My friend and I once gathered up three dozen snakes and locked them in his office. None of them were dangerous, of course, but he had a really bad phobia. He wouldn’t go back into his office for weeks, started working out of the janitor’s closet.”

  A small laugh escaped me at the thought of Hayden wrangling snakes. “What? That’s so mean…”

  “So was he,” Hayden said with a shrug.

  Shaking my head, I asked, “Did you and your friend get caught?”

  Hayden’s smile was huge; it made me want to make him smile like that all the time. “Nah, Felicia was super paranoid for a month, but Mr. Dixson never had a clue who did it. I think he wrote it off as some weird infestation.”

  My mood dropped a smidge. “Felicia?”

  Hayden shifted his gaze to the ground. “Yeah…girl I used to…” Returning his eyes to me, he was silent for a second before saying, “We were close for a time…but she’s gone, and that’s that. Are you ready to ride now?” he asked, not-so-smoothly changing the subject.

  A mixture of compassion and jealousy ripped through me; I quickly beat back the latter and embraced the former. He was protecting himself with vagueness—and I understood not wanting to say too much, understood hiding in silence and misdirection. This Felicia person had meant something to him, I was sure of it. “She hurt you, didn’t she?”

  He immediately averted his eyes. “She dropped out of my life a while ago, so I don’t see how it matters.”

  There was sadness on his face that suggested that it did matter, he just didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m…sorry it didn’t work out.” And yet, I was grateful too.

  The expression on his face melted into a smile. “Don’t be. It was a…toxic relationship.” Tilting his head, he eyed me up and down. “You sort of remind me of her.”

  My eyes widened and my cheeks heated. “I’m toxic for you? Well, thanks. Just so you know, the feeling’s mutual,” I finished with a smirk.

  He laughed, then shook his head. “No…you’re nothing like her, it’s just…you look…” His eyes turned reflective as he studied me. “It’s damn uncanny how much you look like her,” he muttered almost too quietly for me to hear.

  His gaze was suddenly so intense, my heart started racing. “We should…get going,” I whispered. “We’re burning moonlight.” He blinked, like some spell had been broken, then he nodded and we started heading toward the garages.

  When we got to t
he Cox garage, I tried my hand at picking the lock again. Surprisingly, it was easy for me. Guess I really was a natural. Not that I was ever going to do anything with the skill—other than break into my family racetrack every night. Jesus. My father would die if he could see me right now. Literally have a coronary and die.

  While I got my bike ready, Hayden went over to his garage and prepped his motorcycle. We met at the entrance, same as usual, only I noticed Hayden was holding his stomach. Not obviously—he just looked like he was casually wrapping his arm around his side—but I knew why he was doing it; I’d witnessed the entire attack. I wanted to ask him about it, but before I could, he leaned over his handlebars and said, “On your mark. Get set…”

  The second he said, “Go,” I shot out of there like cops were on my tail. The rush and euphoria filled me to the brim as I led Hayden on a wild chase through the twists and turns of the track. The fear of getting caught was always in the back of my mind when we came here, but right now, it was a far-off concern. Letting go of everything and being in the moment with Hayden filled me with joy, peace, and an uncharacteristic excitement. I could feel myself getting swept away by the eroticism of it all—the giddiness of being in front of Hayden, the hum of my bike, the speed of the concrete flying underneath me. My body’s reaction was mystifying. Racing had done many things for me over the years, but before Hayden, it had never turned me on.

  I rode that delightful high all the way to first place. And then I popped a wheelie in celebration. God, that had felt good. I almost wanted to go again just to keep the buzz alive.

  Coming up beside me, Hayden laughed at my display. Slipping off his helmet, he said, “One of the greatest things about racing you, Twenty-Two, is watching you enjoy your victory.” Then he cringed. A slight move, but one that reminded me that he wasn’t exactly at his best tonight. Some of my high faded with the realization that he was in pain.