by Anne Hansen
I remember that when I got back down to the parking lot, I prayed my luck would hold for a few more minutes, just until I got to Gio’s garage. And it did. Gio knocked over a bunch of stools and screamed at me in a mix of Italian and English for twenty minutes, telling me what an asshole I was, how I screwed the run up beyond repair, how I was about to bring everything we worked so hard for crashing down. He didn’t even ask about the blood, other than to demand I tell him how the hell I thought he’d get the stitching clean.
“Vin!” Keira slings her backpack on her shoulders and marches over to me. She takes a shaky breath and jabs her finger at my chest. “I know you’re hiding things from me…from everyone. But you can’t push everyone away forever. No one can live like that.”
I take in the way her mouth is set in this determined line, like she truly believes anything is possible. The way her eyes shine with this loyalty to me I sure as hell don’t deserve. The way her entire body is leaned forward, hoping she’s been right all along, and I’m the beast she’ll break out of the spell with her true love, just like in the stories I imagine her reading as a little girl.
“It’s the only way I can live, Keira. The only way I can survive. Trust me, no one would choose this.” I watch the light in her eyes go out.
Gio told me I had to make one last run, even though we were getting dangerously close to dawn, I was tired as hell, and I hadn’t had time to scout anything properly. You don’t boost unless the conditions are right, because if you try when they’re wrong, you wind up making huge mistakes.
Mistakes that get you pulled over.
Mistakes that land you on probation, knowing every time you get behind the wheel again, you’re not looking at another slap on the wrist.
You’re looking at hard time.
Mistakes that cost you your future before you’re even really started living your shitty present.
“I need to show you something,” I say through my teeth.
Keira trudges alongside me.
“I’d prefer if you just took me home.”
We get to my car and I hold the door open for her, watching as she slides into the passenger seat.
I press my hands on the roof and wait until she’s buckled in before I push off, slam her door, and go to my side. I start the engine, but don’t pull out. Not yet.
“You know I’d tell you everything. If I could. If that was an option,” I say, keeping my voice low over the rumble of the engine.
Keira shakes her head slowly, eyes trained on the fogged windshield. “No. I don’t know that. This summer, I thought I knew that. Now? I have no clue. I don’t know what to think or feel when I’m around you.” She takes a deep breath. “My brain is screaming at me to stay away from you. That you’re not treating me the way I deserve to be treated.”
I tighten my fists around the steering wheel, so full of self-loathing, it burns in the back of my throat. “Listen to your brain, Keira.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s tempting,” she says with a hard laugh. “There’s a problem, though.”
“What’s that?” I want to punch a hole in the hope that rises up, complicating things that are screwed up enough as they are.
“My heart,” she whispers, her breath making a circle of condensation on the passenger window. She uses the tip of her finger to trace a tiny heart there. “My heart is telling me that you’re worth all this pain and confusion. And my heart is really stubborn.”
Damn it.
My blood is racing, my adrenaline is spiked, and I feel like I’m the king of my whole damn world again. I need to put the brakes on this fast, before we spin out of control.
“I can’t tell you how goddamn happy hearing that makes me, Keira,” I admit, careful not to look over at her. I know from experience how one look can turn into one kiss and one kiss can unravel everything I’ve been working like a mad man to hold together.
I have a hard enough time resisting her when she’s not in my arms.
“It does?” She chews on her bottom lip, waiting to hear what I’ll say next.
I slam my palms against the steering wheel.
“Fuck my life,” I mutter. “I need to show you why tomorrow, we’re gonna pretend this conversation never happened.”
I pull out before she can say another word, finally ready to expose the part of my life I was more than willing to bury deep and forget forever.
Being with Vin tonight makes me wish I could hit the rewind button and go back to this summer. When things were so clear and if felt very possible that he could be part of my forever.
Now I just feel like a naive idiot for assuming that was even a possibility.
The story David told me and the way Vin’s family so clearly has intentions for him to do more, be more, gave me hope. But every time we get close, he yanks back.
And now, I guess, he’s going to show me why he “has to” push me away.
We pull up outside what looks like a garage. He drives around back and cuts the engine, then looks over at me. “What I’m about to show you is something I’ve only shown the people closest to me. My best friend, Leo, my family...no girl’s ever seen this place. You’re the only one I’d ever trust to show this to.” His laugh sounds harsh. “And you’re the only person in my life I wish didn’t have to see it. C’mon.”
I follow him along the back of the brick building. As we get to one of the huge metal doors, the sounds coming from inside are deafening: grinding metal, industrial saws, the crack and boom of huge machines breaking and shredding. I resist the urge to cover my ears.
I’m not really sure yet which areas count as the “safe ones” in Eastside, but I don’t have to guess about where this place falls on the scale of “should I be here alone at night or not?” The answer is “hell no, now turn and run as fast as you can!”
And I would. Except Vin is at my side. And no matter how many times he pushes me away, no matter how many times he tells me he just can’t care, I know he would never let any harm come to me.
“What is this place, exactly?” I ask.
He puts a finger to his lips, letting me know to be quiet as he leads me down a back hall and to a door that’s cracked open. He nods for me to look through the crack, and when I do, I see cars in different states of breakdown and crews of men and a few women taking them apart, scurrying around like they’re in a race to finish. Sparks fly everywhere, the noise is incredible, and there’s an element of underhandedness in the way everyone works quietly, quickly, and robotically. Like this is something that shouldn’t be going on, and everyone who’s a part of it knows that.
I feel Vin’s strong body at my back. He leans close and wraps one arm around my waist. I close my eyes and feel his hand flatten and run along my stomach, his calloused palm brushing over the sliver of skin that’s exposed whenever my sweater lifts.
A rash of goosebumps explodes up and down my arms when his mouth hovers over my ear. “This is a chop shop, Keira. And it’s my uncle’s business. I work for him.”
The sweet way he touches me is like a drug, softening my mind and making it hard to absorb the sharp reality of his words.
“Chop shop?” I repeat dumbly, turning in his arms so fast, our lips nearly brush.
He moans, pulling back and running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. You know what chop shops are, don’t you?”
“Um, they sell stolen car parts?” I say, my head spinning. I put my hands against his chest, and can’t help opening my fingers wide, letting myself touch what’s been off limits for too long.
He grabs my wrists, his thumbs running along my palms and down the sensitive lines inside my wrists. “Listen. It’s illegal, Keira. I would never even have brought you here, but I needed you to see it with your own eyes.”
I read the pain and panic on his face, and I have to fight past the dizzy, sweet swell of emotion that makes me feel like I can’t keep my hands to myself. “I see it. But I don’t understand what this has to do with us.”
“I work here,” he says, closi
ng his eyes like he can’t stand to look at me when he confesses. “And I was bringing a car here the night I got pulled over. The night I got arrested. It wasn’t drag racing that landed me at Silver Poplars. The charge got brought down to joy-riding…but it should have been grand theft auto.”
“Oh.”
Grand theft auto?
The words echo through my brain, sounding way more sinister than drag racing. While I was never excited to hear Vin had a criminal past, I have to admit that it sounded a little rebellious and very sexy when I heard he’d been caught drag racing. I’d listened to countless stories from my mom and grandfather about barely getting away with their own races, and I’d been on the tracks when they flew too fast behind the wheels of cars they built to push speed limits.
Sure, my grandpa had the connections to race on tracks, but it was essentially organized drag racing. My father pointed this out to my mother over and over again, but she said they’d just have to agree to disagree. She said whether he saw it or not, I had a gift, and she wanted to teach her family’s skills to me. If we’d had more time, I would have learned more about working on cars and driving them competitively. The hobby my mother and I bonded over might have become a bigger influence in my life.
I sometimes wonder how far I might have gone in the racing world if I hadn’t had so many obstacles. If Dad hadn’t been so against it. If Grandpa hadn’t passed sooner than any of us expected. If Mom hadn’t gotten so sick so fast.
I loved it, I was a natural, and—if fate had played out a little differently—I could have been the kind of daredevil girl Vin seems to think he needs. Not quite so nice, not quite so sugar and spice.
Of all people, I definitely get the allure of a fast car, the feel of flying over the asphalt and pulling ahead just enough to taste victory. The quick, sure freedom of an amazing car cruising at top speed is one of the things I miss most about my old life. Sometimes I feel like I’d do anything to be able reclaim some of that lost freedom, some of that daring.
But grand theft auto? That’s criminal on a whole different level. That kind of crime could end up with a punishment way worse than grunt labor at a resort.
“Ask,” he orders, arms crossed over his chest, eyes burning fierce.
“What?” I stutter, tucking my hair behind my ears with shaking hands, because I know before he needs to explain.
“Tonight. Ask whatever you want to ask about my family’s business. I want to come clean.” His green eyes look like they’re glowing in the shadowy hall.
I have a million questions about the seedy work I’m spying on through this crack, but I know that having the answers will only tell me part of what I need to know about Vin.
I take a deep breath and jump in, even though I know he won’t like it. “I want to know about David,” I say, anticipating his scowl.
Which pulls at his lips furiously the second he registers my words.
“Anything about this business. Anything about what I do here,” he says, pointing to the floor where sparks are flying from sawed up chunks of cars.
“I get that what you did here was illegal—”
“What I do here, Keira. Not ‘did.’ Part of the reason I’m failing Delani’s class is because I have a criminal side job that eats into my study time,” he says wryly.
“Okay,” I mutter, squirming over the idea that he’s still taking such crazy risks with his life and future. I decide to start with the obvious. “Why don’t you quit?”
“It’s my family’s business,” he says slowly, then raises his eyebrows and blows out a long breath. “My father got into this on the legal auto-shop side. He’s an amazing mechanic. My brother works with him, doing the legit stuff. I’m alright at mechanics. Way better at boosting. My uncle got them into some dicey business and some serious trouble with loan sharks who don’t play. I can help get them out, do my part until they’re in the clear. Once they pay off their last major loan, my uncle will move his holdings in the business across town, and my father and brother can run this place the way they need to. Legally. My family will be able to hold their heads up as legit business people.” His eyes slit with a determination that I saw often this summer.
The kind of determination that makes me think—that makes me sure—Vin Moretti can do anything he wants to do. Anything.
“Isn’t there another way to come up with the money?” I ask, and his laugh sets my teeth on edge.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what this business is like. Cutthroat. And very lucrative. My uncle is living like a sheik right now, running numbers that would blow your mind.” His voice is hard, his tone throw-away. It’s yet another tactic to make me feel silly, embarrassed, like I shouldn’t try to help.
But I’m getting tired of Vin and his games.
I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him. Two can definitely play at this game. “Alright. So what’s your endgame?”
“My endgame?” A reluctant smile tugs at one side of his mouth. “I don’t know. By the time I’m done, I’ll be pretty amazing as a car thief.”
He’s daring me.
And I never back down from a dare.
“You could be pretty damn amazing at a lot more than car theft, Vin. Say you make the money you need to, square things up for your family. What next?” I watch his eyes go wide.
“Next?” he repeats, like it’s a concept he never gave a second thought.
“Next.” I unfold my arms and lift one hand to his cheek, cupping his face. “Is this what you want?”
“This is who I am,” he says, his voice so low, I can barely hear it. He looks down at the floor, his mouth twisted.
“No. I know who you are,” I tell him, ducking low so I can look him square in the eye. “This is what you’re doing now. This isn’t who you are, Vin.”
“You don’t get it,” he says, shaking his head and laughing my words off.
I grab his face in both my hands and force him to look at me again. “I think I’m the only one who does get it. This isn’t your fate. This isn’t the only choice you have.”
“But I have to do it now,” he says, his words scratching out. “And if I get caught—”
“Don’t get caught, don’t—”
“If I get caught—and I’m always running the risk that I might get caught—it all goes to shit, Keira. All of it. And I’m left here with nothing to offer the person I love most in this world. That’s not good enough for you. None of this is,” he says, jerking me close to him, his arms tight around my waist.
“Well, we have a big problem then,” I gasp, my mouth so close to his, I can feel the heat from his lips. “Because you’re all I want.”
He closes his eyes and groans like he’s in insufferable pain. Then he lowers his mouth and his lips press over mine. For a second, it’s a chaste, sweet kiss. He moans again, and his mouth opens. His tongue licks at my lips, urging me to open wider for him, to let him in.
He turns fast with me in his arms so my back is pressed up against the wall in the dim hall. The light above us sputters and blinks, the machinery on the shop floor screams, but he ignores everything except the two of us tangled around each other, our bodies pressed tight. His mouth roves down to my neck, kissing and sucking on my skin. His hands run over my back, up along my face, cupping my jaw and pulling my mouth closer.
“Vin,” I moan, clawing at his back.
It’s been too many weeks since the last time we were together. My body is starved for his touch. He steps closer, his boots planted on either side of my sneakers, his hips locked against mine, one of his hands tight on the back of my neck, the other pressed at the small of my back.
He kisses me deeper, the bare hint of stubble on his jaw so rough against my skin, it makes my lips tingle. I don’t care. I kiss back without trying to hide my excitement, my tongue eager for the taste of him, my hands running up and down over his body like I’m trying desperately to remember every muscle, every long line.
“Keira,” he says, and it’s like he�
�s begging.
I’m not sure what he’s begging for, but I want to tell him ‘yes,’ and ‘anything,’ and ‘you’re mine, remember that.’ Because how did we ever forget this? How did we ever look the other way?
And, when tonight is over, how am I going to go back to pretending this isn’t what we both want?
I can’t.
As the thought goes through my head, I press harder against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He slides his hand under my bum and holds me tight to his body. I wrap my hands around his hard biceps and lean back against his arm as he kisses along my ears, down my neck, to the place where my sweater dips into an inviting v between my breasts. One hand is spread over my ribs, just under the swell of my breasts. I don’t have to dig far back into my memory to remember how amazing it felt when he unhooked my bra and touched me; it’s something I think about more often than I want to admit.
I twist, settling my body against his more firmly, and he presses his forehead to mine as he breathes hard and fast through his nose. With a grunt, he sets me down and backs away a few steps.
“What’s wrong?” I ask between pants. It sounds like I just finished a long cardio workout, but I don’t care.
Not at all.
I want him, and I don’t care if I come off as desperate.
It’s what I am, and I’m tired of lying about it.
“This.” He waves an angry hand at the door that leads to the chop shop and looks at me with eyes full to the brim with raw pain. “You being here. Me bringing you here. This is exactly why I can’t be around you, Keira. Don’t you get it? No matter how much I want to protect you, I can’t. Not from this life. And I…I lose my damn head around you! Can’t think straight, can’t keep it together.” He runs his hands through his hair, laces his fingers behind his neck, and exhales slowly. “I brought you here to show you why we can’t work. Why I have to tell Delani we’re through. I need to be better about staying out of your way.”
“No.” The industrial scream of machinery ripping through metal makes a cacophony that drives Vin closer to me, even though he just insisted he wants to stay far away.