by Chelle Bliss
“I started it.” She glanced down at her feet. “I’ll behave,” she said as she pulled my keys from her shirt. “Here.” The keys dangled from her fingertip.
I rubbed my forehead, feeling like the biggest tool. This girl had me in knots. She’d scrambled my brain in a few short days. I knew I was fucked.
“You keep them. I’ll let you drive Elvira.”
“Really?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Twirling the keys in her fingers, she whistled before she yelled, “Yes!”
“I see you’re happy.”
“Totally worth kissing you to be able to drive that baby.”
“You didn’t want to kiss me?” I felt my stomach plummet.
“Oh, I did, but I didn’t think you’d let me drive the car. Let’s hit the road,” she said as she started for the door.
I followed behind her, dragging my feet. “Let’s set a few ground rules first.”
She’d already climbed inside Elvira before I’d finished the sentence. “She’ll be fine,” she said as she slammed the door.
Looking up at the sky, I cursed. I could swear God was trying to punish me.
Thomas had to give Race to me as my first case. It couldn’t have been something easy, like a cheating spouse? No. I’d had to get the overbearing, ballbusting corporate executive who made my dick feel like a lead pipe ready to break off.
Before I settled in my seat, she had the car started and revved the engine. “Ground rules,” I reminded her.
“Hit me,” she replied as she gripped the steering wheel and looked like a woman possessed.
“Don’t your hands hurt?”
“I was so excited to get behind the wheel that I totally forgot.” She shrugged, easing her grip.
“Number one, go the speed limit. Two, no changing lanes unnecessarily, and three, be kind to my girl.” I sounded like my mother rattling off commands when I’d started to drive.
I had hit asshole territory.
“I can do that,” she said as she started to back up.
I fastened my seat belt and said a small prayer as I shifted in my seat.
As she put the car in drive, the wheels began to screech, causing the car to fishtail. I reached for the dashboard, my heart pounding wildly as I screamed, “Race!”
“What?” she asked innocently as she glanced at me.
The car glided across the pavement, not gripping the surface.
She turned the wheel, gaining control of Elvira. “Did I ever tell you how I got my name?”
“No,” I replied as I braced myself. “Slow the hell down though.”
“We’re good. My daddy was a huge fan of racing. He named me Race because of it. When I was a little girl, he’d take me to some of the dirt courses around here and let me speed around. I could barely see over the damn steering wheel, but I drove like a speed demon.”
“Shocking,” I muttered.
“I could’ve gone pro if I’d stuck with it.”
“I can’t breathe.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“Oh, stop being such a baby. Elvira couldn’t be in better hands.”
When the car came to a screeching halt at the end of my street, I was ready to run out of the car and lie down in front of it just to get her to stop.
“This is the only thing I have in my name. I don’t want you to fuck her up, princess.”
“I promise to behave if you calm down.” She looked over at me.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Using her fingers, she made an X over her heart. “I promise.” Her lips parted, giving me a toothy and totally bullshit smile.
I should’ve demanded the keys back.
The car behind us honked, causing Race to flip them off in the rearview mirror.
My mouth fell open. “What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s this car. I swear I turn into a different person when I’m behind the wheel of a car with some power.”
“Just go before you start shit and I have to finish it.” I motioned for her to move, keeping my eyes glued to the side mirror. The last thing I wanted to do was kick someone’s ass before we had even driven a mile.
She looked like a different person today.
The tank top and skinny jeans looked good on her. She looked calmer and more relaxed than I’d ever seen her. The way she held the leather wheel in her hands made it clear that she was in her element.
As she eased onto the street without causing the car to spin, I took a deep breath and tried to relax. “So why don’t you race anymore?”
“When my father died, I didn’t want to go to the course anymore. I miss him every day, but I just couldn’t go there. I started to study harder and decided to leave that world behind.”
“I’m sorry. What happened to him, if you don’t mind my asking?” I asked, watching her face change.
I knew the trauma of losing a parent. My dad hadn’t died, but the bastard might as well have, since he’d dropped off the face of the Earth.
“He was hit by a semi and died instantly,” she said as her chin trembled. “It was my fault.”
I blinked. “Race, how could it be your fault?”
“It just is. Ask my mama. She’ll tell you.” She shrugged.
“She can’t feel that way. How old were you?”
“Twelve,” she whispered as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
“You can hardly be at fault,” I reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You were just a little kid.”
“Anyway, he was my best friend and we spent our weekends together at the racetrack.”
“You know you aren’t at fault, Race, right?” I asked, concerned about her change of attitude.
“In my heart I know it, but I can still hear the words coming out of my mama’s mouth.”
“Sometimes parents say shit they don’t mean,” I said, knowing that my ma had said more than a few things I knew she wished she could take back.
“I know,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road.
She weaved in and out of traffic, and I couldn’t look. “It’s quite a leap from race car driver to the corporate world,” I said before I swallowed hard, trying to get the lump out of my throat.
“I wanted something challenging and cutthroat, but I never expected what’s happening now.”
As she pulled into the IKEA parking lot, my phone rang and Thomas’s number scrolled across the radio.
“Let me grab this. Thomas may have some news,” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and took it off Bluetooth.
“Yeah?” I asked, hoping he had a lead.
“I think I found him,” Thomas said, the excitement in his voice evident. “Come to the office this afternoon and we’ll work out a game plan.”
Chapter Eighteen
Problem
Race
“We’ll be in shortly. Thanks, man.” Morgan glanced at me as I pulled my phone from my purse, needing to check my messages. “He has a lead,” he whispered, covering the phone with his hand.
“Thank God,” I mumbled, glancing down at my screen.
My hands began to shake as I checked my messages. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to slow my breathing. I swallowed down the bile that had started to rise in my throat.
Race,
The time is coming. Meet me tomorrow at 7 p.m. if you want your tape back. Come alone or I’ll email it to your boss. I bet he’d like to hear you moaning like a whore.
I couldn’t read any more.
I couldn’t breathe.
“We’ll stop in the office later. We’re doing a few things today.” There was a long pause. “Yeah, I have her with me. You told me to keep an eye on her.” More silence. “Don’t worry, man. I got it.”
I turned my phone off and tossed it back in my purse.
“Looks like we’re a step closer to solving your case,” he said.
“Thank God,” I replied, knowing that either way, it would be over tomorrow night.
“Ready to do some shopping?” Morgan asked.
Pulling at my lip, I stared at him as he spoke but didn’t hear the words.
“Race,” he said, touching my leg as his forehead scrunched.
I blinked a few times, trying to clear my head. “Sorry. I zoned out.” I couldn’t look at him.
“What’s wrong? You look pale.”
“I’m just hungry,” I lied.
“You want to skip shopping and go grab some lunch?” he asked as his thumb stroked my knee.
I shook my head, still not making eye contact. “No. Let’s shop and then we’ll grab a bite to eat.”
In my heart, I knew I should tell him about the e-mail. He needed to handle things and get the video from the bastard who had threatened me, but I couldn’t risk everything going to shit and it landing in the hands of my boss.
But I wasn’t ready to ruin our day together.
“Okay, Race. This is your show. I’m fine with the few items I have, but have at it.”
“You need to make it more like a home,” I said as I finally brought my eyes to his.
“I’m a simple guy. A couch and a television are all I need to survive.”
“Just let me get lost in a little shopping today. What’s my budget?” I asked, rubbing my hands together. I pushed all thoughts of tomorrow night out of my mind, focusing on Morgan.
Tomorrow I’d go there, retrieve the video, and be done with it.
It was that simple.
Everything would finally be over.
My life could return to normal.
“I’m not giving you a total. Let’s see what you find and we’ll go from there.”
Retail therapy would help. Lots of retail therapy. “If you say I have one hundred dollars, I’m going to throw myself into traffic.”
He reached in his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. “Let me see how much I have.” He opened it, turned it upside down, and shook it until a few bills fell into his lap. “I have one hundred and seventeen dollars. Dazzle me with your ability.”
“Oh God.” I rolled my eyes.
He stuffed the money back in his wallet. “I have a credit card, princess.”
“Thank God. I know the military doesn’t pay well, though, so I don’t want to go crazy.”
“I think I can handle anything you throw at me. It’s IKEA anyway. I could probably decorate my entire place for one hundred and seventeen dollars.”
“Hardly,” I scoffed as I threw the keys at him. “It adds up quickly.”
“Show me your mad skills.” He smiled. “Hey, thanks for not wrecking Elvira.”
“I would never. I can’t wait to drive her home. Now, let’s go spend your money.”
“After you,” he said as I climbed out of the car and gently closed the door. As we entered the store, his mouth fell open. “Holy shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re going to be here all day.”
“Nah. We’ll make it quick. What do you need?”
“I don’t know,” he said as he followed behind me.
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out as we go,” I reassured him, happy that I’d be able to lose myself in the wonders of IKEA.
“I’m all yours.”
My chest tightened at his words.
I have a problem.
I liked Morgan.
No, that wasn’t totally true.
I wanted Morgan.
Strike that.
I had a crush on Morgan.
Spending time with him had made me want him more. The moment I’d met him, I’d felt my attraction to him, but I tried to tell myself that it was only physical.
“I’m all yours,” he repeated as he grabbed a cart.
He made me want to go back on the promise I’d made of swearing off relationships forever.
Chapter Nineteen
Plans
Morgan
I still hated shopping.
Even with Race by my side.
I hated every damn minute of it.
I bought shit I didn’t need because she said that it was cute.
What use did I have for decorative pillows for my bed? I never even made the damn thing, let alone decorated it.
“Thanks for lunch and the drink,” she said as we pulled into the parking lot of ALFA PI.
“You seemed on edge. I thought you could use a little something.”
“I just get more nervous with each passing day.” Her eyes didn’t meet mine when she spoke. “You think you guys have a solid lead?” she asked, still seeming distant.
She was hiding something.
Her playful attitude from earlier had vanished.
She’d played it off like nothing happened, but I could tell.
“We won’t be here long.” I placed my hand on hers. “I just want to see what Thomas found.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve decided to not work at all today. I’m not even going to look at my phone.”
Alarm bells started to ring in my head.
“Race, is there something you aren’t telling me?”
Race had been glued to her phone during business hours.
“Everything is fine,” she reassured me as we walked toward the building.
“Hey, Morgan,” Angel greeted us.
“Hey, Angel. Is Thomas in his office?” I placed my hand on the small of Race’s back just because I could.
Race didn’t try to escape my touch—she stood still at my side.
“Yeah. He’s expecting you. Go on back.” Angel’s eyes dropped to my arm.
“Thanks,” I said as I guided Race down the hallway, my hand still on her lower back. “All the way at the end.”
“I remember,” she said, walking slow enough to keep the contact between us. “Who is she?”
I looked down at Race, confused. “Who? Angel?”
She looked away, staring down the hallway. “Yes.”
“She’s Thomas’s girl.” She was jealous.
“Oh,” she said as her eyebrows shot up. “Well, that’s nice.”
I stopped walking, turning her body toward me. “Are you jealous, Race?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head but still not looking me in the eye.
“Do you always lie so much?”
She crossed her arms, becoming defensive. “No,” she snapped, finally glancing up at me.
“Sure. But I know when you’re not telling me the truth.”
She gnawed on her lip. “Can we drop it?” she asked, moving her hands to her sides.
When we arrived at the door, I leaned forward, invading her personal space. “You’re hiding something, and I need to know what it is. I expect you to tell me when we’re done meeting with Thomas.”
Her eyes dropped to the floor as her shoulders sagged. “Okay,” she whispered as I opened his door.
“Hey, T,” I greeted him, helping Race sit before I took the seat next to her. “Find anything out?”
He turned his attention to his computer. “I was able to figure out the name of his cousin using an obituary and college records. I haven’t moved past that yet. His name is—”
A knock on the door caused him to stop mid sentence. “Thomas,” a voice said from the other side.
“Come in, Sam,” Thomas called out.
I turned to catch a glimpse of the infamous Sam.
Sam slid the sunglasses to the top of his head as he looked around the room. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He was a tower of a man, with wide shoulders, cropped hair, and a fit physique.
Thomas walked toward Sam with an extended hand. “You aren’t. Sam, this is Morgan, another member of ALFA PI.”
Sam gave me a quick nod. “Nice to meet you, Morgan.”
“Sam.” I returned the nod.
“I’m excited to start working. It’s great to be home again.”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to lure you away from New Orleans,” Thomas told him as he placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Is Fiona settled?”
“Yeah. She’s excited for a fresh start.” Sam peered over his shoulder. “Is James here?”
“He’s in his office, I believe.”
Sam fidgeted with the file in his hands. “I need to talk to him.”
“Go ahead. Don’t worry. He’s cooled down in the last couple of years.”
“I’d hope so.” Sam gave Thomas a weak smile. “I’m going to go have a chat with James and then get settled in my office.”
“I’ll come looking for you when we’re done here. We need to discuss some things,” Thomas told him as he held the door open.
“Nice to meet you, Morgan. You too, ma’am.”
“Race,” I said.
“Race,” he repeated before he closed the door.
Thomas laughed, plopping down in his chair. “This is going to be fun.”
“Sure will be.”
“Where was I?” Thomas asked as he scratched his head.
“The name,” I reminded him as I glanced at Race.
She wasn’t herself.
She’d been entirely too quiet for the last hour.
“Tyler O’Shea.”
“Race, does that sound right?”
She seemed uninterested. “Yeah. I think so.”
“I’ll do some digging and see what I can come up with.” I stood, holding my hand out to Race. “Thanks for getting the name for me, Thomas.”
She placed her tiny palm in mine and I closed my fingers around her hand, helping her up from the chair.
“Morgan, can I talk to you in private for a moment?” Thomas asked.
Race glanced up.
“Go wait for me in my office. I’ll be right there,” I whispered to her.
She gave me a brief nod and left.
“What’s up, Thomas?” I asked as I sat back down.
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing,” I lied, shaking my head.
“I saw how you touched her. There’s something different about you two. And what the hell happened to her hands?”
“Listen,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, “you told me to stay with her to make sure she was safe last night. I did that.”
“I also asked you to keep it in your pants, but did you do that too?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.