by Vera Hollins
“Hey!” I yanked my arm to set it free, but my strength was nowhere near his. “Let go of me!”
“Where are you taking her, asshole?!” Mel rushed to catch us, drawing the attention of all the people around us.
Blake halted and cut his eyes at her. “Stop following us unless you want this to turn ugly.”
“I won’t step aside! She’s not property! You can’t drag her wherever you want.”
He snarled. “You keep barking, Brooks, and it’s really getting on my nerves.”
Steven approached her. “Sis, stop making a mess out of everything. Step aside and let them go.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Drugs have really destroyed all your brain cells. Of course I’m not going to do that—”
“I’ve had enough of you today, Melissa.” Steven changed his tone completely, a sharp edge to his voice that added to his vicious appearance. “You’re not her mother, so stop fricking treating her like a child. She can handle herself.” He gave me a pointed look. As much as I was afraid of Blake, this altercation just prolonged the inevitable. He always got his own way.
“I’ll go with him,” I said weakly.
“Are you crazy?!” Mel exploded, but Blake didn’t wait a second longer, dragging me after him as Mel watched us in disbelief. I swallowed back my resentment, fear showing its ugly head because I didn’t know what he was going to do.
He stopped next to his car and glared at two girls sitting on his hood, who were apparently waiting for him. “Get the fuck away,” he snarled.
They shared a puzzled frown before they scurried off.
Blake released me and pointed at his car. “Get inside.”
I glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He caught my shoulder and leaned in. “We’re not going anywhere. I need to talk to you, so get inside.”
His lips were too close to mine, and I tore my gaze away from them, cursing him for attracting me even at a time like this. “I’m not crazy enough to get in the car with you.”
“Right now, you’re safer with me than with any of these people hanging around. Now. Get. Inside.”
His breath on my lips tickled, and my pulse quickened. He’s too close to me. I wiped my clammy hand against my jeans and opened the door, getting into the space that was all Blake with its black and red leather and impressive interior that exuded power and control.
It was overwhelming, and I realized just how truly dangerous it was to be here with him. I had to fear him and my stupid heart for finding something in this moment that didn’t exist.
Blake got in and slammed his door shut. His nearness affected me in more ways than one, and I had to make an effort to breathe slowly as I stared straight ahead into the darkness. His tinted back and side windows hid us from any onlookers, and knowing he could do anything and get away with it… Not good.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
I blushed. I could never tell him I was here because of him. “Why does it matter to you?”
He snorted his derision. “It doesn’t.” He chuckled. “Who would’ve thought? You really are an easy girl. First Burks, then Robinson, and now Brooks. And let’s not forget New Year’s Eve in that closet.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. I was fed up with his insinuations. “You’re such a hypocrite,” I bit back. “You’re a hypocrite and jealous.”
His eyes grew wide before they slid all over me. “You give yourself too much credit. You think I’m jealous? Because of you?” His condescending look called forth a crushing sensation in my chest.
“Then why am I here? Why did you want to talk to me?”
“It’s because I want you to stop messing with my mind.”
I sucked in air. “Messing with your mind?”
“Ever since I met you, I feel like shit and it’s getting harder and harder. I want you to stop.”
“I’m not doing anything! I just want to live my life in peace and away from you.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“How many times do I have to repeat myself? I can’t stay away from you.” Flutters spread through my belly at the words that sounded intimate despite their real meaning.
I let out a chuckle that contained no humor. “You make no sense! You blame me for making your life difficult, but you can’t stay away from me?”
We were now facing each other, our eyes never straying away from the other’s face. His scent—a mix of cigarettes and his cologne—created the heat in me that opposed the pain that spread at his cold words. This toxic circle of insults and hate would go on forever. Maybe there was good in him, but I would never get to see it.
“I don’t get you, Blake. I don’t get you at all.” My voice cracked. I was a hopeless fool.
He seemed to want to say something, to give me some explanation, but his expression darkened, and his lips formed a wry smile.
“Come on—start crying. It’s what you do best.”
I curled my hand into a fist. I hated the venom that rushed through me, that pushed me to say hurtful things.
“Yes. I always cry, and I’m weak, but no one is weaker than you.” He flinched. “Look at you, all worked up because of me. You don’t even have a clue how to deal with your mess, so you’re going in circles and acting like a big bully.”
He grabbed my upper arm and jerked me toward him, rage and hurt flashing in his eyes. “Don’t fuck with me, Metts.”
My eyes darted between his, too many emotions clogging my chest. “I’m just speaking the truth. You don’t have an answer, so you’re just using aggression, threats, and insults to make yourself feel better.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“No. I was silent for far too long, and it didn’t do me any good. This is not some punishment for I don’t know what. This is a pathetic attempt to deal with your anger. You can’t direct that anger to the right target, so you’re using me to get rid of it and get rid of your frustration.”
His face twisted in pain, and his eyes turned the color of tempestuous clouds. I hadn’t expected such a reaction from him, but instead of satisfaction, I felt pity.
He looked away and pursed his lips, but he didn’t let go of me.
I smiled sadly. “Don’t you see? It never gets better, because making my life shitty doesn’t make yours any less shitty, and you know it. And it will only get worse for you.”
He lowered his head, his grip on my arm turning shaky and breaths heavy. He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t know what to do. I should get out of his car, but I didn’t have it in me to move, bound to him for a reason I still tried to deny. My chest constricted at seeing him this vulnerable.
“Fuck you,” he said suddenly.
I recoiled. He grasped my other arm and raised his head to look at me. His red eyes darted all over my face, tracing each inch of it.
“Fuck you for making me this confused. Fuck you for all the pain. Fuck you for bringing back the nightmares. And fuck you for making me break the promise I made her.”
I didn’t dare speak. I didn’t dare even move. His words were so harsh, but his eyes…they were fire.
“I’m betraying her because of you.” He shook me, his face distorted by despair. “I’m not supposed to feel like this!” My chest hurt so much. It was too much. “I’m supposed to hate you.”
His eyes fell on my lips and lingered there. I still couldn’t move, holding my breath…
“Fuck you for making me do this,” he whispered and leaned in too quickly—
The knocks on the window froze us in our tracks before his lips could touch mine.
“Blake?” Masen said. “The race is about to start, man.”
“Shit,” Blake muttered as he released me and looked away.
I closed my eyes with shame. This took the cake.
What was I thinking? I would’ve let him kiss me. No, not only that—I’d been anticipating it.
Bad. That was so bad.
I needed to get away from him. This was more proof that I couldn’t trust myself when I was around him. I rushed to get out as I opened the door, but he grabbed my wrist and made me look at him, back to his old self.
“Don’t say a word about this to anyone.”
I didn’t reply. I just scrambled out of his car, completely flustered and confused.
I couldn’t even look at Masen as I closed the door. I rushed between the cars and headed back to Melissa, but not before I managed to hear Masen say something to Blake that sounded like “You don’t look good.” I was curious as to why he’d say that, but I didn’t turn around or slow down to hear more.
If Masen hadn’t appeared, I would have been kissing Blake. He’d wanted to kiss me. I groaned, forcing myself not to think about that. It was a disaster and not something I should be excited about. Not at all.
I joined Mel close to the starting line. She was surrounded by a group of girls in leather jackets who looked like they would pummel us if we even looked at them the wrong way. I shivered. The cold in my limbs contrasted with the rising anticipation in the air.
Mel’s eyes slid down my body as if looking to see if I was in one piece.
“I’m alive,” I told her. I hoped she wouldn’t ask for details.
“And strangely flushed.” She narrowed her eyes. “What happened in his car?”
“Nothing,” I fired back quickly.
“Mhm. And I’m Spider-Man’s bride.”
“He didn’t hurt me, so you can relax.” She raised her eyebrow, but she chose to stay silent. “How many laps do they have to make?”
“Five. There are eight miles in total. Look, they’re starting.”
Six cars lined up on a wide circuit track that was lit by generator-powered flood lights. Blake’s Dodge Challenger Hellcat and Masen’s yellow Chevrolet Corvette were parked in the middle. Steven’s silver Audi TT was between Masen’s Corvette and a green Mustang with a black skull painted on the hood. The furious rumbling of engines roared through the air, and the spectators cheered louder.
He was close to kissing me…
Shut up, stupid brain. Close the door on it.
I couldn’t. He’d mentioned something about a promise to a girl and betraying her, and my mind took me back to Emma and his connection to her.
A race girl wearing knee-high boots and a mini skirt that barely covered her butt sashayed her way to the starting line, breaking through my thoughts, and marked the start of the race.
The cars left the starting line in a cloud of smoke, and my pulse quickened with excitement. I’d never cared much about racing and didn’t understand what was so special about it, but watching it in person with the sounds of engines and the ecstatic crowd all around filled me with energy.
I was sucked into their world, my eyes plastered to the cars. Steven was in the lead, closely followed by Masen’s nimble Corvette and the green Mustang. By the end of the first lap, Masen passed Steven and sped up, putting more distance between them before the first turn.
I was amazed by Masen, who seemed to rule the track. He killed the turns, accelerating way before any of the other drivers could. I faintly remembered Hayden mentioning that Masen’s specialty was racing, which was clear as day now.
I’d also overheard him saying Masen needed cash badly, which wasn’t a surprise, because unlike Blake or Hayden, Masen didn’t come from a rich family. I doubted his father’s salary as a local TV news editor brought in a great deal of money. Then there was that boy, Eli, who needed care as a quadriplegic, and I could only imagine how much that cost.
My eyes went to Blake’s car. He was falling behind the Mustang. His Challenger oversteered at turns, which left him struggling to keep the fourth position. I was bewildered that he didn’t drive that well.
Masen had said Blake didn’t look good, and I wondered if that was because of me. Maybe my words had a bigger impact on him than I could’ve possibly guessed.
Masen ended the second, third, and fourth lap in first, but the Mustang got pretty close to him at the beginning of the final lap, almost sending Steven off the track at one of the sharper turns. Blake was struggling to stay in fourth place, until the last car managed to take his position in the middle of the lap.
Steven’s engine roared when he stepped on the gas and almost pulled ahead of the Mustang, but the Mustang’s driver swerved to block Steven and passed Masen at the last possible moment, finishing first. The crowd burst into cheers. Blake crossed the finish line last and veered to a screeching stop next to Masen’s car.
The viewers darted to the track to greet the winner, some of them taking pictures of his Mustang. The excited murmurs carried one name through the air, which I assumed was his: Bobby Q.
“It’s over,” Mel, who had been unusually quiet during the race, exclaimed in relief and grabbed my hand. “Let’s get to Steven.”
We rushed to his car, which was parked right behind Masen’s. Steven got out and hit his fist against the rooftop, baring his teeth. Mel collided with him and pulled him into a crushing embrace.
“I’m going to steal your car and sell it so you can’t race again. You scared the crap out of me!”
Steven didn’t return her hug or reply. He glared at the winner, who was now surrounded by two busty brunettes. A shiver ran down my spine when my eyes stopped on the guy’s face. He had shoulder-length raven hair, and he looked at least ten years older, with an even scarier expression than the rest.
“I could’ve won,” Steven gritted out as he separated himself from Mel. “That money should’ve been mine!”
I inhaled a sharp breath, taken aback by his hysterical tone. His scraggy face was twisted as if he was in pain, and my heart ached for Melissa. I didn’t know much about drug addicts, but I could guess the addiction messed him up real bad when he was this furious and desperate.
Mel scowled at him. “You should be happy you’re alive, you punk.”
“Knock it off, Melissa. You’re acting just like Mom, and it’s driving me nuts.”
They didn’t stop bickering, but I tuned them out as my gaze fell on Blake’s profile close by. My stomach twisted into knots at the look on his face as he stared at Bobby Q. It was hatred unlike anything I’d seen before, but there was also terror, which was further accentuated when he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Masen joined him. “What’s wrong?” I heard him ask in spite of the constant chatter and shouts around us.
“Isaac was right. It’s him.” It was hard to make out his words from this distance, but moving closer to them be dropping the ball. He nodded toward Bobby Q. “He came to the surface.”
Masen followed his gaze. “Shit. Are you sure it’s him?”
“I’m positive.” He added something else, but I couldn’t hear it.
“Do you think he knows who you are?”
I glanced at Mel and Steven, who were in the middle of their tiff and paying zero attention to me.
“Not likely…” I wasn’t able to hear the rest of his sentence. I flexed my hands, which had turned sweaty in the meantime. Blake really didn’t look good.
“Will you be able to handle him with your…? You know.”
With his what?
Blake glared. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever is necessary.”
“So what now?” Masen asked, and I held my breath, my heart thumping harder in expectation of his answer.
“Now I finally…” The rest was lost in the roar of a nearby engine.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the cryptic conversation between Blake and Masen and the way Blake had looked after the race. He knew that driver, and everything in me told me he was in for big trouble.
It wasn’t my business. I shouldn’t even have been thinking about Blake’s fears or his mysterious words, but here I was, chewing it over again.
I shoved the thoughts of Blake aside and looked at Ms. Donovan, my choir teacher, who played piano while Shelly, a sophomore, practice
d the solo she was going to perform at the school festival.
Ms. Donovan was still trying to convince me to perform a solo, assuring me I had the voice of an angel that would reach many hearts. I was totally terrified of it, but I couldn’t deny I liked the idea. Only two weeks were left until the start of the festival, and she’d said I had to make my decision by today.
Kevin nudged me with his elbow and whispered, “Marcus is, is, is watching you.”
I glanced at Marcus. He was looking in our direction from where he stood with the rest of our group across the room, but his chocolate eyes weren’t on me—no, they were on Kev, and it was a look of so much longing I wished I were Cupid so I could get those two together.
This reminded me—I hadn’t talked to Kev about Marcus.
I inched closer to Kevin so I could talk to him without others pricking up their ears. “I talked to Marcus last week.”
He gave me a side glance. “Yes?”
“He told me he’s gay.”
Kev did a double take at me before he looked at Marcus. Almost immediately, Marcus looked away and scratched his neck. That was so cute!
“Marcus is gay? But why did he ask you out th-th-then?”
“Brace yourself. He asked me out because he likes you.”
His eyes bugged out, blush paving its way across his face. He gaped at Marcus, who was now staring at his phone.
“B-B-But I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.”
I shrugged. “He wanted to get closer to you. I know it’s not the right way to go about it, not by a long shot, but I think it’s sweet.”
His blush intensified. “So he doesn’t like you at all?”
“Nope, and he asked me to talk to you and tell you he wants to ask you out.”
“Ask me out?” he said in a high-pitched voice, wide-eyed. “I…I don’t know.”
“Do you like him? You said he was cute.”
He fidgeted as he stared at his shoes. “He’s really cute, but I, I, I’ve never thought about him that way.”
“Well, think about it. You two would make a nice couple.”
He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “If you think so.”
“I do. He also likes music and sings, as you can see, and he told me once he’s a hardcore Star Wars fan. Just like you!”