by A. J. Logan
“Sadie’s dad would probably take the biggest fall while Kyle will get off with a slap on the wrist.”
“Are you trying to protect him or her?”
“Both.”
“You said he could be responsible for staging Noah’s accident.”
“It was Kyle.”
“It could easily be someone else.”
“It wasn’t. Kyle’s responsible.”
“Well, let’s get some solid proof before you pummel him to death tonight at the Dome.” Bryce stands, grabbing his phone off the counter. Glancing at the screen, he taps on the glass and holds it up to his ear. “What emergency?” After a beat, he chuckles and looks to me with a grin. “Let her up.”
He disconnects the call, looking to me as he walks to the door, putting a hand on the handle as he keeps a shit-eating grin in place. “You might want to prepare yourself.”
“For who?” Please be her. And I don’t need to prepare, I’m good and ready if she is.
A fist slams into the door several times and Bryce pulls it open, leaning against it as he says, “What brings you by on this lovely morning?”
“Is he here?”
Willow.
Fuck, the disappointment is bone crushing. I wanted to hear Sadie’s voice, even if she was cussing me out, just like her best friend is currently doing. “All you had to do was not hurt her and you couldn’t even do that.”
Yeah. No shit. “I’m aware,” I say flatly, appreciating Willow wanting to take up for Sadie, but I’m not in the mood.
“I really should cut your ass because you’re a piece of shit no better than him.”
She’s no angel either, but she thinks I’m fooled along with everyone else. Time to change that. I might as well send everything up in flames at this point, and I sure as shit will not stand here and be compared to that callous bastard. Here goes. “Did you start thinking that before or after you began fucking Andrew?”
Her face pales as I wait for her to fully digest the information I hold.
“Ouch, that’s gonna be a hard blow to come back from,” Bryce snickers as he walks back to the kitchen, moving around like this is a normal occurrence in his hotel room.
“How do you know that?” I didn’t think she would deny it, but she wasn’t expecting to get caught either.
“Parker won’t be too happy, I’m guessing.”
“Leave him out of it.” She grips the side of her shirt, pulling it down.
“It makes more sense why you hate Kyle so much. As if the way he treats Sadie isn’t enough, he also knows your dirty little secret.”
“Andrew and I broke it off. It was a mistake.”
“A repeated one, apparently.” It was a well-guarded secret that I hadn’t caught onto until I realized she wasn’t staying at Parker’s all those nights and was lying to Sadie. Bryce did enough digging to find out that Willow had been at Andrew’s place while Parker was working nights. Parker was also already at work when Noah died, further proving my suspicions that Kyle is at fault.
“Nope,” Bryce hollers from the kitchen. “It’s only a mistake the first time, after that it’s a decision.”
“Please. Don’t tell him,” Willow begs.
“It’s not my place.” And, I have bigger bones to pick with Parker. If Kyle isn’t guilty, he’s next in line.
“Then what do you want? Why tell me that you know unless you’re gonna use it against me?” Her voice cracks as her words fade off.
She’s been hurt too, just as Sadie has, and my guess would be from his clone Andrew.
“Mercy. We all make mistakes, but it doesn’t change how we feel about someone. You should understand that entirely.”
She quickly wipes her cheeks, walking to the door.
“Bye, Willow!” Bryce hollers out in a chipper voice as Willow slams the door behind her.
“Everything is set for tonight,” I say.
“Kyle challenge you already?”
“No, but he will. He’ll want to redeem himself.” I’m sure of it, but Bryce looks at me over the rim of his mug with doubt. “What?”
“Are you set for tonight?”
“Yes.” I should be. This was the goal. Take everything away from Kyle, make him suffer. Sadie is out of his reach, his title is mine, his car is next. The plan was always to torch it, light the bitch on fire while he watches his precious ZR1 burn. But it doesn’t feel like enough. Sadie might be right about one thing—it’ll never be enough. I’ll never be able to make him suffer as brutally as he does others, as he did Noah. But Sadie will suffer further if I succeed at my original goal—torching the ZR1 in her dad’s shop, so Frank and Kyle both watch their existences incinerate before them while they can’t do a thing to stop it. Only, I’ll be sending my future with her up in flames too.
Am I willing to accept that consequence?
37
Sadie
The unsettling part is not sitting in his car or not being ready to get out of it yet as I wait to go into school. The unnerving part is the handwritten note that I keep reading over and over. The one that I found after receiving a message on my phone this morning. I easily located the key fob hidden just outside my front door, exactly where he said it’d be. The note, that I wasn’t expecting.
Still yours.
Dylan
Tucking the piece of paper into my bag, I step out of the STI and head to class, unable to delay the inevitable any longer. Willow texts that she has a seat saved and she also informs me that both people I was hoping to avoid are there—Kyle and Dylan.
I’d figured Kyle would be the last person to show after what happened last night. But I shouldn’t be surprised, he never knows when to leave shit alone, including me.
Walking into the classroom, I descend the stairs, attempting to keep my focus on making it to my chair without laying eyes on either of them. Complete and utter failure on that count. Kyle’s back is to me as he sits two rows behind Willow, but it’s Dylan who turns, looking over his shoulder at me from where he sits across the aisle. His eyes are penetrating; the little progress I’d made to forget about how much he affects me is undone. Halting in place for a few seconds, I clutch my bag to my side before hurrying to drop in the seat next to Willow.
Fumbling with my things, there’s a tight tension in my muscles as I feel Kyle’s evil stare on my back.
“Well, this isn’t awkward,” Willow whispers as she leans over. “You good?”
Nodding, I grab out my notebook as the professor moves to the podium.
“Sadie,” Kyle mutters behind me.
My fingers cling to the desk as I keep facing forward. He says my name again. I can’t do this. I can’t concentrate with him lurking behind me, but I won’t let him run me out of this classroom. Glancing over, I see Dylan’s murderous stare directed behind me to where Kyle is seated.
“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you. Again.” Dylan keeps his voice monotone, sounding so calm that if I didn’t know what was lurking beneath, I’d never have guessed. A few students look his way, suddenly aware of the tension in the room that’s been suffocating me.
“Everything good up there, fellas?” the professor asks as the entire class focuses in on Dylan and Kyle.
“Your call,” Dylan states, still zoning in on Kyle.
Kyle cusses under his breath but my name doesn’t leave his mouth again as the professor begins the lecture.
Hopefully, it’s a sign that Kyle has given up, but I know I’m not that lucky. He has to have the last word. Always.
The minutes tick by excruciatingly slow though I somehow manage to focus on the lecture, pushing out the tension until class is over. Slowly gathering my things, I wait as the students clear out, hoping Kyle goes with them. Dylan remains in his seat as I stand, turning to get a good look at Kyle’s mangled face for the first time. His lip is swollen, there’s a cut across his cheekbone, and both eyes are encircled with bruises.
Tearing my gaze away from him, I begin walking up the stair
s as Dylan stands, following a few feet behind Willow and me.
Willow is strangely quiet as we make our way into Coyote Café. I tell her I’ll grab us some coffees—any task to keep me focused on something other than his presence, other than the distraction seated a few tables over. Is he really going to follow me everywhere I go in pursuit of defending me from the Big Bad Wolf?
Yep. He is. It’s clear from his reclined position at the table. He makes no attempt to hide that he’s watching me. Walking over, I stop across from him, keeping the table in between us. It’s a dismal strategy, but I need some barrier between us. Anything to fight the pull he has on me even if I know it’s pointless, I’ll surrender to him not because I have to but because I want to. And I know it’ll happen. I’m just not ready yet.
Placing one of the coffees on the table, I reach in my bag, and pull out his key fob, setting it next to the paper cup. “Here. Two less things I owe you.”
He doesn’t say anything as I step back, walk to my table, and drop in the seat. Something as simple as a cup of coffee and as generous as his stupid car feel equally heavy when indebted to him. Even more, the thirty thousand I need to pay back to him sooner than later. First step, getting my damn car from my dad’s house. Easier said than done, because that means facing my dad and maybe Levi if he’s even around.
I slide the remaining cup of coffee across the table to Willow, retrieve my phone, and message Levi.
Me: Can we talk?
“I think you need this more than me.” Willow holds up the coffee.
“No, I’m fine.” The word fine echoes in my head as I pull out my things to get started on my coursework. My phone chimes with a message. Holding my breath, I look to the screen.
Levi: Nothing to talk about.
“I’m fine,” I utter, dropping the phone back on the table and resuming my studies.
38
Dylan
She’s here, but she’s still hiding. Literally and figuratively. She hurries to her seat at the table with Willow, ducking her face so I can’t see her eyes. Being in the same room with her, watching her, but not feeling her, it’s worse than sitting on Bryce’s couch all morning craving to be with her.
Less than five minutes later, the motherfucker himself walks into the café. I prepare to stand, thinking he’s heading over to bother Sadie, but he bypasses her, sitting at the table across from me instead. He leans back in the chair as he looks across the café at Sadie.
His maimed face should bring me satisfaction, but it doesn’t because his grimy eyes are still on her.
“I don’t get it.” Kyle turns back to me, his busted lip curling into a sleazy smile. “She surely isn’t a good fuck, and even when she puts out all she does is lay there like a dead fish.”
My fists ball up, pushing against the table as I get a clear visual of him using her like a worthless object just to get off before tossing her aside. If I move, I’ll wrap my hands around his throat to shut him up, and I won’t let go until the evil light in his wicked eyes goes out.
“So, what was it? Was it just because she’s mine?”
“She never was yours.”
“Keep telling yourself that. But I know your game. You just want what’s mine. And tonight, I’ll take what you can’t hold onto.”
“You won’t ever touch her again.”
“Oh, it’s not her I’m after tonight. That can wait … she’ll wait,” he snickers, glancing back to her before looking to me. “It’s that piece of shit STI that I’ll be claiming tonight. We race for pinks or we don’t race at all.”
He’s falling right in line. I don’t even have to toss out the bait for him to take it, he hooks himself every time willingly. “Challenge accepted.”
Kyle stands, tapping his fingers on the table. “Tonight.” He takes his time to wave at Sadie who is staring in our direction, but her gaze stays on me as he walks away and out of the café.
She is mine and will never be within his grasp again. So, why don’t I feel a sense of relief, of triumph for the months it’s taken to get to this point—the final stretch. I still don’t have solid proof that Kyle was responsible for Noah’s death, but I don’t need it. Even if he didn’t hurt Noah, he most certainly hurt Sadie and needs to pay. Frank is the one I can’t decide on. He’s directly linked to Kyle’s dealing, enabling him. Offering up Sadie, encouraging her back into the lion’s den, all to keep on Kyle’s good side for dirty money, blood money, while he protects the true monster.
I’ll lose her—that’s fated. But she will also be out of their grasp. For that, I’ll gladly accept the consequences.
39
Sadie
“Have you changed your mind yet?” Willow asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“No, I’m sure.”
“Okay. Well, if you want to leave early just let me know.”
“All right.” Leaving early doesn’t sound appealing because it’s the final race that I want to see. It hadn’t taken long after Kyle and Dylan’s café chat for word to spread that Kyle wants to race him tonight. And I want to be there. Not just to watch the race but for Dylan. It’s more than just a race when he gets on that track.
“Does your dad know?”
“No.” And that’s how I want to keep it. Willow offered to drive me home to get my car after we leave the Dome tonight. It sounded like the best option because I should be able to avoid Dad and Levi, get my car, and drive the hour back. Since I have to be at Big Tobe’s for my shift in the morning, I want my car tonight even if it’ll make for a long day tomorrow.
Willow pulls into an opening along the strip, and the races are already in full swing as a Challenger and R8 barrel down the track, the Audi claiming the victory. Leaning against the hood of her car, we watch as the next two racers, one being Kyle, take their positions. I’m sure he’s pissed that he has to start all over, tick off each bracket to make the final race. Knowing him, he’d likely expected his name to be in the final round just because.
A few minutes later, Kyle crosses the finish line in his ZR1, easily beating a Toyota Supra to earn the spot to face the R8. Even if he is earning each spot, it’s still nauseating because he’s getting exactly what he wants, exactly what he expects. I can’t say that I’m not a little giddy at the thought of Dylan shutting down his hopes of reclaiming the title. And maybe once Dylan wins the ZR1, he’ll feel some closure. At least, that’s my hope for him.
Searching the crowd, I finally spot the STI parked out in the field, its owner propped against it looking back at me. Damn, why did I seek him out?
Bryce waves a hand in front of Dylan’s face then looks towards me, obviously checking to see what has Dylan’s attention.
“Just ignore him, Sadie,” Willow says.
Turning my back to him, I face Willow. “I’m trying.”
We sit, mostly without talking, until it’s time for the final race—the only one the eager crowd is itching to see as the dethroned king returns to claim his prize.
Dylan steers into the right lane, backing up to the starting line. Kyle doesn’t. He takes his time, spinning out the tires in the grassy field before driving onto the track. He backs into the water box, spinning out the tires as his car starts veering off the track. He backs up and does it again. The crowd whoops and hollers as he finally pulls up to the starting line. My heart hammers against my chest as I hold my breath, watching as they get the signal to go.
Stepping closer to the track, my hands cover the smile on my face as Dylan pulls ahead, inching in front of the ZR1. My excitement is short-lived when the ZR1 surges forward, crossing the finish line first.
Kyle won. I can’t move. All I can do is stand there, dumbfounded, and watch as the STI pulls to a jerky stop past the finish line. He remains there while Kyle has his ZR1 doing donuts in the grassy field just off the paved strip.
I was so sure Dylan was going to win. He needed to win for himself, and for Noah.
“I can’t believe it,” Willow breathes as we both watch the
aftermath in shock.
She’s not the only one. And from Bryce’s angry yells directed at Dylan, he feels the same.
Kyle drives the ZR1 back onto the pavement, stopping about ten feet away from Dylan, a shitstorm brewing for sure.
Willow and I hurry down the track as the crowd convenes on the old runway, mostly surrounding Kyle as he emerges from his car, howling in victory. I would love to cram my fist in his mouth to shut him up for once.
Dylan reluctantly emerges from his car as Kyle approaches him.
Halting a few feet behind Dylan, I watch as he tosses the key fob to Kyle, who catches it with a twisted grin on his battered face.
“What. The. Fuck. Man?” Bryce yells at Dylan.
“Don’t be a sore loser,” Kyle gloats, tossing the STI key fob to Andrew as he looks to Dylan. “My little brother needed a shit car for parts.”
“Fuck this,” Bryce says, lunging towards Kyle but Parker steps in front of Bryce, shoving him back as Kyle continues gloating.
“Ya friend lost. The best driver won. Deal with it.”
“Race me, motherfucker. Right now. Winner takes all.”
Kyle rubs his hands along his chin, tsk-tsking. “Nah, I got what I wanted.” Kyle gawks towards me as he motions to his car. “Come on, baby. You can fuck a winner tonight.” Nausea flows through my stomach as Kyle grabs his crotch.
Dylan is quick to move, but Parker is already prepared, stepping in front of him. Andrew shoves a still cackling Kyle towards his ZR1. Thankfully, Kyle drops into the driver’s seat, spinning the tires as he takes off, steering back into the field to do a few more victory donuts, laps, engine revs, and whatever the hell else that will get keep the crowd going. And the majority of them do follow the ludicrous show, making their way to the starting line while a small crowd stays behind.
All I see is Dylan. He stands rigid, shrouded with defeat.
