One by one, the three of us file into the hospital room. But before we do anything else, I know there’s one more person I need on this. I whip out my cell and punch in Bex’s number. She picks up on the first ring, worried sick after I disappeared from my own little room. I tell her where we are, and ask her to book it across the hospital as fast as she can. In no time flat, she slips into Harrison’s hospital room, looking relieved.
“Way to vanish on me, Siena,” she grumbles, “You really don’t make the whole keeping-watch thing easy, do you?”
“Afraid not,” I say, closing the door behind her, “But I’m glad you’re here. This is Andy, Harrison’s buddy from McClain. And of course, you know Harrison Davies.”
“How’s it hanging, boys?” Bex asks, planting a manicured hand on her hip. How she manages to look gorgeous and put together under fluorescent lights after a day like today is beyond me.
“I’m married,” Andy blurts out.
“I’m Bex,” my best friend winks, “Now does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?”
“Our blackmailer showed up and caught me in Harrison’s hospital room,” I tell her, “It was just some punk kid behind the camera. Clearly, whoever is trying to undermine us didn’t want to get his own hands dirty. Or her own hands. I have no idea...”
“Shit,” Bex breathes, “Did you get any information?”
“No,” Harrison says, “But I did land a good punch.”
“Stupid move,” I grumble.
“Yeah, yeah...” Harrison replies
“It’s something, anyway,” Bex says. “Wish I could have gotten a good hit myself. He deserves it, the little low life.”
“His phone got destroyed, so he doesn’t have any pictures of us from this afternoon. But he was still hunting photos down, so the shit storm doesn’t seem to be over just yet,” I say. “Whatever he and his boss have planned, it doesn’t stop at turning my family against me. Something else is in the works here, something bigger.”
“Right...” Bex continues, “If the goal was just to get your brother upset, no more pictures would be needed.”
“My dad knows too now,” I tell her, “So there’s that.”
“Jesus,” Bex sighs, “With everything that’s going on with him...”
“What’s going on with him?” Andy asks.
“He’s sick,” I say simply, not wanting to dwell on the subject, “And now Dad and Enzo are leaning on me to break it off with Harrison.”
“But that’s not an option?” Bex asks.
“That’s not an option,” Harrison and I say in unison.
Bex smiles at us, shaking her head. “Love birds. What are you gonna do?”
“Something’s coming with those photos, I just know it,” I go on, “The question is, what are we going to do about it?”
“Well, what do you want to do about it?” Bex asks.
“I want to tell the world to mind their own business,” I say, exasperation, “I want to tell them that we’re not their soap opera to watch with bated breath,” I say.
“Then why don’t you do that?” Bex poses.
“Wh-what?” I sputter.
“Why don’t you two make a statement about your relationship?” Bex goes on, “You know that it’s only a matter of time before people find out. Tell them that you’re not interested in F1 drama, that there’s more to life than what team you happen to root for. Tell them you fell in love and saw beyond racing politics, that you’re committed to each other. Give them a love story they can fall in love with themselves and no one can touch you.”
Harrison and I trade glances. Bex is making a whole lot of sense to me, right about now. But there’s one thing I can’t wrap my head around.
“What about my family?” I say.
“If you spin your love story the right way, make the world adore you, then your team will have to get on the same page,” Bex says with a mischievous grin, “They don’t want to look like a bunch of curmudgeons trying to squash young love!”
“OK,” I say, “But even if they play our game, what if their hearts aren’t in it?”
“Well...that is another thing entirely,” Bex says, “One that you’ll have to fix in private. Only you can bring them around to liking Harrison as a person.”
“I think I should be able to help with that as well, if they give me a chance,” Harrison puts in.
“Great,” Bex says, “Then it’s settled. You two are going to go off together, work out a story, and present it to the media before Harrison runs his next Grand Prix.”
“Sure, no problem,” I mutter, sitting down on the edge of Harrison’s bed.
He looks up at me, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s looking worse for the wear every minute. Jumping his bones was probably not the best recovery strategy. I need to be more careful around him, learn to control myself. It won’t be easy, but he needs to get better and get back into the season before too much time passes. He and Enzo will be OK if they only have to miss one race. The teams will need time to get them new vehicles anyway. But any more time than that could really screw them.
“Could we have the room for a second?” Harrison asks, reaching for my hand.
“Can we leave you alone for two seconds and trust that you’re not going to screw yourself into a coma?” Andy shoots back.
“You’ll have to take your chances,” Harrison says.
“Come on Andy,” Bex says, laying a hand on the burly man’s arm, “Buy me a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee, won’t you?”
Andy averts his eyes from Bex’s pretty face and hurries out of the hospital room, blushing furiously. I have to swallow a smile, despite the seriousness of the situation. My best friend is irresistible after all.
When they’re gone, I turn anxiously to Harrison. Even after all these weeks, I can’t help but feel a little thrill at the sight of his bare, tattooed chest peeking through the hospital gown. It’s not many men who could make wearing a glorified sheet seem sexy. But then again, my love is something of a rare specimen. He tucks his hands behind his head with a deep sigh and stares up at the ceiling with those arresting blue eyes of his.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask him quietly.
He glances down at me, perched on the side of his bed, and gives me a smile that could light up the entire city of Moscow.
“I’ve got everything I need right here,” he tells me, squeezing my hand.
“I’m going to let you get away with that disgusting display of sappiness, but only because you might have brain damage,” I say, arching my eyebrow. I secretly love his sappiness, of course, and the fact that I’m the one who inspires it in him.
“Thanks for that,” he laughs shortly.
“No problem,” I smile. “So, what’s our next move? How do you want to do this?”
“I’m going to need to get off the trail for a while. Recuperate,” Harrison tells me, “I thought I’d head back to London. The championship tour will be in London the race after next anyway. Lucky timing, right? I can get myself rested up and be ready to start training again the second they ship my ride over.”
“Right,” I say, forcing myself to smile. I don’t like the thought of Harrison going off by himself to get better while I accompany my family to our next stop. I should be with him while he heals, helping him. “The next grand prix is in Belgium,” I go on, “Enzo will probably want to hang out at our place in Italy until his suspension is over. I guess we’ll just have to hold tight until we’re in the same city again, you and me.”
“Siena,” Harrison says, looking at me intently, “I don’t want to be in different places. Ever again. I want you with me while I get over this little bang on the head. Would you...Would you come to London with me?”
I feel my mouth fall open in surprise. “Come with you?” I ask, “Harrison, how would we ever explain that to people?”
“You can say...you’re there doing research for the next Grand Prix,” Harrison offers, “Say you’re working out
a PR strategy for Enzo and you’re gauging public opinion on the ground.”
“You evil genius,” I laugh, “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?”
“I spend my days hanging around a brilliant, gorgeous woman who inspires all kinds of thoughts in this simple brain of mine. Most of the thoughts are dirty, honestly.”
“You want me to come stay with you for the next...two weeks?” I ask, hardly daring to believe it, “You know the London Grand Prix isn’t for two weeks?”
“I’m aware,” Harrison says, “Do you not want to—?”
“No! It’s not that,” I say quickly, “It’s just...Since we met, we’ve been a pretty strictly hotel room and backseat sort of couple, you know? This whole affair of ours—”
“Is that how you think of what we have?” Harrison asks, “An affair?”
“You know what I mean,” I tell him, “We haven’t had a very traditional relationship so far. It’s just strange to think of living together, now. Even for a little while. After all the scandal and intrigue—”
“You think that you’ll get bored, coming to stay with me?” Harrison asks.
“I highly doubt that,” I laugh, “I’m just...I’m sorry. You caught me off guard, is all. I can’t imagine how I could sell that to my family without them getting suspicious. To say nothing of the fact that we’re one illicit photo away from becoming the next big tabloid sensations.”
“Just forget I asked,” Harrison says, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Siena.”
“Harrison...” I say, “Come on. You’re taking my reaction the wrong way. Don’t you think I’d love to come play house with you while you get better? I just don’t know how I’m going to swing it.”
“I don’t want you to swing anything,” Harrison tells me, “I just want you to be there with me. I want you to see my home, my city. I want to behave like the man you deserve to be with. You shouldn’t be in a hotel room and backseat kind of relationship, Siena. You’re more to that than me. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I tell him.
“Then let me show you,” he urges, laying a palm against my cheek. “Come to London with me. We’ll figure out our next move there.”
“I’m just not sure...”
“What about us has ever been sure?” Harrison challenges me, “You’ve been taking risks with me since the night we met. I’m asking you to keep it up. This is never going to be some simple, uncomplicated relationship. You know that. We don’t need to tiptoe around that fact anymore. I’m so sick of hiding this away for some bullshit sense of propriety. I just want you, Siena. All the time. Always. Say you’ll come with me.”
“I’ll...” I begin, trying to sort through the flurry of emotions running through me, “I’ll talk to my family. See if I can throw them off the scent. That’s all I can promise right now, OK? I’m going to do my best. I want to come with you, Harrison. I want to know what your real life is like. I want to be a part of that life. I just want to step lightly, here. This means too much to me to fuck it up now.”
“OK,” Harrison says, “I trust you, Siena. Do what you have to do.”
“I love you. You know that, right?” I ask him, drawing his hand down to my lap.
“I know,” he replies, pulling me gently down onto the bed beside him. “I love you too.”
I stay with him for longer than might be wise, just curled up against his side. It’s so hard to keep my hands from wandering all over his body, but after our little incident earlier, I'm sure it’s for the best. The crazy thing is, it’s enough just lying here with him. Feeling his firm chest rising up and down against my cheek. It almost feels like we’re approaching normal, as we lie here together. It might not be so bad, spending the next couple of weeks at his place. Learning what it feels like to share a life with him. Visions of movie nights and takeout curry come galloping into my mind as I try to imagine what a normal life with Harrison Davies might look like...or is that just a contradiction in terms?
After long hours, I finally say goodbye to Harrison. It isn’t easy, prying myself from his side, but I promise to call him the minute I know what I’m going to do next. I leave and head back to Enzo’s room, but not before Harrison makes me promise to try and shake off my family and join him in London for the month. He makes a compelling case, lying there half naked. Those bare biceps of his alone are very persuasive.
Just as I arrive back at Enzo’s room, my brother and father are gathering up their things, ready to head back to the hotel. It would seem that Enzo’s scrapes from today’s wreck are not quite as bad as Harrison’s, and I’m glad for it. My brother may have brought the accident on himself, but of course I’m happy that he barely got scratched.
“We’ll leave for Italy in the morning,” Dad says as we pile into the Ferrelli private car. “As odd as it might be to say, this whole thing is rather well-timed.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, staring sullenly out at the city of Moscow as it flies by.
“I don’t know how much longer I can stay on the road this season,” Dad says, “I’m starting to feel it, you know. The fatigue. The aches. It’s getting harder to breathe. That horrible cough is finally starting to take hold...”
“Oh, Dad...” I whisper, taking his hand in mine.
“No, no. None of that pity bullshit,” he grumbles, “I’m just trying to be practical, here. When I get back to Italy...Well, I might just have to stay there.”
“You could make it to a few more cities Dad,” Enzo encourages him, “You’re as strong as an ox.”
“I was,” Dad says sadly, “But not these days my son.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep from crying. Dad’s going home to settle into the final stage of his life. To be with my mother as his life draws to a close. I can’t even grasp what this really means. He’s hardly shown any signs of sickness since he told us about his diagnosis. But lately, even I can see that he’s getting worn out. Worn down. Sitting out the rest of the tournament is probably the only way he’ll see the end of it.
It’s still impossible for me to fully take in the fact of my father’s sickness. It was sprung on us so quickly, and in the midst of so much else, that I’ve had no time at all to process. On the one hand, I’m grateful to be distracted from the fact of Dad’s cancer. But on the other hand, I know that I can only hold off my grief for so long. And when it finally hits me full on...I don’t know how I’ll be able to stand it.
What am I supposed to do now? Continue on with my plan to go to London, be with Harrison while he recovers? Or go to Italy with the family and sit by my father’s side as the cancer takes hold of his body? I don’t know which of the men in my life needs me most, now. Which one I’m supposed to take care of. My father’s always been the most important man in the world to me. But now...?
“I was thinking, Dad,” I begin, my voice shaking almost imperceptibly, “It might be a good idea for me to keep up with the tournament on the ground. From a PR perspective.”
“You mean, keep traveling with the rest of the teams?” Dad asks.
“Not to Belgium,” I say, “Since we’re not racing in that Grand Prix, I mean. It might be a waste of energy. I thought I’d go on ahead to London. Start doing research, shaping the narrative among the local press. That kind of thing.”
“You want to go to London?” Enzo asks, “But London is terrible. It’s foggy, and expensive, and drab as hell. You love the house in Italy. The whole team will crash there for the month. Charlie, Gus, Bex, the whole crew. It’ll be just like vacations were when we were kids.”
“But we’re not kids any more, are we Enzo?” I ask, “We’ve got work to do. And I think I could do mine better if I went on ahead to London.”
“I trust your judgment Siena,” Dad says, “You don’t want to be cooped up with us, anyway. Your mother will probably be worrying up a storm, as ever. You should get out while you still can. We’ll be fine in Italy, and we can meet up with you in London in a couple of we
eks.”
Enzo stares at me long and hard. I don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s scrutinizing me, looking straight through me. Why do I get the feeling that he knows exactly what I’m up to, scampering ahead to London without my family? My team?
“You should do whatever you think is best,” he says, his voice hard and quiet, “I’m sure we will get along just fine without you.”
His casual dismissal cuts me to the quick. He knows me too well to be fooled into thinking that I’m giving up Harrison without a fight. And right now, I’m sure he’s well aware of the choice I’m making by not going along to Italy. What I don’t know is exactly how much he hates me for that choice.
I make a beeline up to my hotel room the second we’re back. I’ve finally come to my decision about London. Closing the door tightly behind me, I whip out my cell and punch in Harrison’s number—the only one I have committed to memory. He picks up immediately, and the sound of his voice puts my raw heart at ease.
“I was waiting for you to call like a bloody school boy, perching by the phone,” he drawls. “You’re making me soft, Lazio.”
“Funny, I thought I did just the opposite,” I say, smiling into the phone.
“Did you talk to your family?” he asks, refusing to beat around the bush.
“I did,” I answer.
“And?” Harrison asks.
“And they’re going back to Italy through Enzo’s suspension. My, uh...My dad probably won’t leave again for the rest of the tour, once he’s there. He’s starting to feel his symptoms. You know.”
“Oh, Siena...” Harrison says, “If you want to be with him—”
“I will, in time. And he has plenty of people surrounding him,” I say, “You, on the other hand, need some company. And I need to be with you, right now. I want to be with you.”
“I want that too, more than anything.”
“It’s settled then,” I tell him, “I’ll be seeing you in London, Mr. Davies.”
Chapter Thirteen
A Split Allegiance
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” Charlie asks, pouting dramatically as the Ferrelli jet sidles up the runway.
Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) Page 14