#FinishLine (GearShark #5)

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#FinishLine (GearShark #5) Page 9

by Cambria Hebert


  “What the fuck!” Jace exploded, catching everyone off guard. Joey spun around, her eyes wide as Jace stomped across the room and grabbed my left hand.

  “What the shit is this?” he demanded.

  “Hopp asked me to marry him, Jace,” I said, not even hesitating.

  Jace wasn’t looking at me, though. In fact, he didn’t even seem that surprised. Instead, he was staring at Hopper. More specifically, Hopper’s left hand. Dropping my wrist, he pivoted to Hopp, grabbed his wrist, and stabbed a finger at the ring on his hand.

  “I gave you permission to ask him, not to do it without me!” Lorhaven growled.

  “We aren’t married,” Hopper said, mildly amused.

  I wasn’t amused. Not at all. Inserting myself between my brother and my guy, I pushed his hand off Hopper. “Hands to yourself,” I intoned.

  Joey made a sound of excitement and bounced forward, pushing Jace back farther. “You guys got married!”

  “No,” we both said at once.

  “Then why are you both wearing rings?” Jace demanded.

  I glanced over at him. “You knew Hopper was going to ask me to marry him?”

  Lorhaven crossed his arms over his chest. “He asked for my permission.”

  Hopper made a rude sound. “I asked for your blessing. Not your permission. Big difference.”

  Totally ignoring their pissing contest, I turned toward Hopp. “You asked Jace for his blessing?”

  His eyes softened when they swung to mine. “I thought it would make you happy.”

  My name might be Arrow, but it was Hopp who’d pierced my heart like one.

  I grabbed his hand, held on tight, and turned toward Gamble, who was watching all of us with an amused expression. “When’s the interview?”

  “Next week. GearShark is meeting you in Vegas, right after your next NASCAR race.”

  Like the pull of a magnet, mine and Hopp’s eyes connected.

  Vegas.

  “I like it,” Hopper told me.

  I smiled. “Me, too.”

  “Now just a damn minute.” Lorhaven cut in on our mental planning. He pointed to my ring. “So you aren’t married yet?”

  I shook my head. “They’re engagement rings.”

  That seemed take some of the fight out of him. For one second. Then it was back. “You can’t just get married in Vegas.”

  “You really gave Hopp your blessing?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “Duh.”

  “You wanna come to Vegas next week?” I asked. “I need a best man.”

  “We’re invited?” Jace asked with a sniff.

  Like I’d really get married without you there. I smiled. “Duh.”

  “Well, ah, yeah. I guess a Vegas wedding would be pretty cool.”

  Joey grinned wide and lurched forward to hug both Hopper and me at the same time. “This is the best news ever! Congratulations!”

  Gamble got up from his desk and came around. “You better not let any reporter see those things ‘til after the interview.”

  “We’ve been careful.” Hopper agreed, shifting from one foot to the other. I could tell he was a little worried about what Gamble might say.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have just announced it all like that without talking to him first.

  “Let me know the plans,” he said, gruff. “So I can be there.”

  Hopper’s eyes widened. “You want to come to our wedding?”

  “Clearly, my daughter is never going to have one. May be the only chance I’ll have.” He gave a pointed stare to Jace.

  My brother didn’t shrink at all beneath the glare. It was like he barely even noticed it.

  “Dad,” Joey admonished.

  Hopper lunged forward and hugged Gamble. Threw his arms around the man and hugged hard. Surprise rippled through me. Hell, it rippled through the entire room. Even Gamble’s eyes widened over Hopp’s shoulder before he closed his arms around him in return.

  Hopper wasn’t much of a toucher. Except for me, of course. Beyond that, I’d never actually seen him touch anyone. So for him to launch at Gamble so uncharacteristically said a lot.

  “Thank you,” I heard him whisper before pulling away.

  “C’mon, then,” Gamble said, clearing his throat. “Dinner’s gonna be cold.”

  “I’m starving.” I complained.

  Everyone groaned.

  On the way to the dining room, Joey started naming off venues and places to get married in Vegas. I’d never actually been there. And it was suddenly very overwhelming.

  As if he knew, Hopp materialized at my side, taking my hand.

  “I don’t think we really planned on something big and, uh… planned,” Hopper announced. “I figured we’d just pick a twenty-four-hour chapel and walk in.”

  He glanced at me, and I nodded eagerly. Sounded perfect to me. I didn’t need anything fancy. Just a marriage license, a justice of the peace, and him.

  Oh, and my family.

  Joey halted abruptly, and we all damn near fell over trying not to mow her down. She gasped, the curls on her head bouncing when she bolted around, planting her hands on her hips.

  “You will not get married at a drive-thru chapel!” She was horrified.

  “They have those?” I asked.

  Lorhaven barked a laugh. “Complete with guys who look just like Elvis.”

  “No!” Joey gasped.

  Her eyes pleaded with me and Hopp. “You cannot do that.”

  I shrugged. “You pick the place.”

  Everyone groaned, and Gamble laughed from inside the dining room.

  “What?” I asked dubiously.

  “You have no idea what you’ve done,” Lorhaven vowed.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Joey’s not an over-the-top kind of woman.”

  “Simple,” Hopper intoned at Joey as if I were the only one who thought she wasn’t about to plan something lavish. “I know you love us. I know you want to do something to show it, but please…” Hopper’s voice faded.

  “Simple.” She nodded. “Got it.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. I glanced over at Jace, but he was watching her, the softest look I’d ever seen him wear plastered all over his face.

  He was so totally in love with her. Maybe I’d convince him to hit up a drive-thru chapel. I glanced down at her ring finger, wondering how big of a rock he’d put there.

  “Seriously, Joey.” Hopper pressed. “They last thing we want or need is media attention.”

  Her sigh was heavy. “I get it. Secret and simple.”

  “Just family,” I told her.

  “Secret, simple, and small.” She amended. “You guys are so bossy.”

  Jace wound an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m eating without you!” Gamble yelled. “I’m eating your plate first, Arrow!”

  My eyes whipped to my sister. “He wouldn’t.”

  She laughed. “He might.”

  I left them all in my dust as I rushed into the dining room.

  Their laughter followed, wrapping around me as I sat down to a giant steak. Grinning, I picked up my knife and fork while Gamble ordered everyone to eat and Joey rambled on about our wedding.

  Underneath the table, Hopper’s hand settled over my thigh. Butterflies took off in my belly.

  This was the best family dinner I’d ever been to.

  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

  Unless of course you get married. That shit will follow you anywhere.

  Thank God.

  My inner thoughts aside, if anyone dared call my marriage to Arrow shit, I’d deck ‘em.

  Neither of us was the flashy type. Flash kinda went out the window when you lived like you might rather be dead, then came back to life, only to be hounded incessantly by the press.

  Oh, they were still clamoring for a piece of me. Or rather Jayson. Frankly, it was driving me mad. If I’d been protective before over what I found with Arrow, I was even more so now. Th
ere was no other way to be.

  I would protect what we had until my very dying breath.

  The build-up to the GearShark interview was kinda intense. Or maybe it just felt that way because right now it seemed like a deep, divisive line between where I was now and where I wanted to be.

  Again, guilt trailed me. Guilt that I was basically trying to hurry up the tell-all so I could move on. It felt a little like I was trying to shove away everything with Matt.

  Rationally, I knew that wasn’t true. Still, sometimes the thoughts taunted me.

  When they did, I looked at A. Remembered the talk we had at Gamble’s that night, then the one at the empty diner.

  He calmed me down. Gently. His mere presence was like a massive dose of epinephrine to my body when I was collapsing inward, suffocating myself.

  Well, shit.

  I was allergic to myself. Even my own damn body tried to get away from my head.

  Good thing I found the cure. Arrow was my walking lifeline.

  I couldn’t wait to marry him. To see his signature with my last name on every piece of paper. Maybe it was archaic. Maybe some gay rights activists would buck the fact he was taking my name, as it was part of a traditional system that shunned people in same-sex relationships since nearly the dawn of time.

  No, I supposed being gay wasn’t traditional. Not in the least.

  But being in love was.

  Love was the oldest institution in existence. It was basic human nature to seek and be sought, to connect to someone in a way you didn’t connect with anyone else.

  Screw tradition. Screw contemporary. Screw everything and everyone who ever tried to pigeonhole love or the way humans showed it.

  I was going to do what the fuck I wanted.

  Having Arrow Ambrose become Arrow Hamilton was exactly what I wanted. More astonishing? He wanted it, too.

  The day of A’s race seemed to drag on, though it was filled with speed. Vegas was hot, especially compared to Maryland. The stands were packed, the competition was fierce, and my ring was burning a hole in the pocket of my shorts.

  Yep. We took off the rings.

  Let me tell you how much I didn’t want to do that. I almost didn’t. I almost walked out of the hotel room with it wrapped around my finger. God knew I wanted to.

  There was too much press, too many cameras, and way too many watchful eyes scrutinizing everything I did. This was the first race since my real identity broke. The first time I was out in the open for a lengthy amount of time.

  Same for Arrow.

  Watching him take off his ring? It felt like someone was gouging out my eye with a hot poker.

  He didn’t want to do it any more than me, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  Gamble called right before, though, like he knew we were seriously considering letting everyone have an eyeful. “Don’t blow this, Hopper. Tomorrow is the interview. After that, you can tattoo his name across your forehead for all I care. Until then, keep it contained. My entire staff worked hard on this. You’re being paid so well even I’m impressed. Understand?”

  Fuck. “I understand.” I agreed, contrite. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t,” he returned, gruff. “You need anything, you call. If not, I’ll see you after the race.”

  “Hey, Gamble?” I asked before he could hang up. He didn’t say anything, but I knew he was still there, listening. “Thank you. For everything. I’m not sure where I’d be right now if you hadn’t found me all those years ago.”

  “You’d have been just fine, son. Of that much, I’m sure. You’re a survivor.”

  His reply made me oddly homesick for people I hadn’t seen in so long I wondered if I even had the right to feel homesick for them anymore. We disconnected the call, and I tucked the ring into my shorts before pulling my fire safe suit over my street clothes.

  Arrow wore his on a chain around his neck, secured beneath his clothes. I’d offered to hold it while he raced, but he refused to give it up.

  I forced myself to stay focused during the race. The interview, our pending wedding, and everything else going on was definitely more enticing, but none of it would matter if A got hurt because my head wasn’t on the track with him.

  He drove better than he ever had. It was something spectacular to witness. He drove with the fierceness of a tiger, but the grace of a butterfly. And the speed… he went for it. All the way.

  He drove like he’d somehow ended up in Jurassic Park and the not-so-much-extinct, man-eating dinosaurs were really hungry and decided he was the meal.

  He placed in the top five. Top fucking five, baby.

  I wasn’t even the one behind the wheel, but the rush? It was the same. He was goddamned incredible.

  And he was mine.

  Once again, the press were vultures. When we finally walked off the track, they swarmed around us like flies on fresh horse shit. Frankly, it turned my stomach. It brought back memories of when I was first released from the hospital after Matt died.

  I hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught of the wicked storm that met me in the parking lot that day. The questions. The rumors. The blame. Then there was the police. The Motocross division… It went on. And on.

  I dealt with as little as humanly possible, then ran like hell.

  I disappeared like smoke.

  Became a ghost.

  Even though I expected the onslaught today, I still felt ill-prepared. Per Gamble’s instructions, Arrow did barely any press after the race, other than a pre-vetted short interview that was strictly about his performance on the track today.

  Throughout the entire interview, I saw the woman giving me the side-eye. I saw the desire, the unspoken questions on her tongue just dying to come out. Clearly, she’d been warned to not ask, but oh, she wanted to.

  It put my back up. I was defensive just standing there, waiting for her to blurt something at A he wasn’t going to be ready for.

  I’d lose my shit. That’s what I’d do. No one was going to hound him the way they did me back then, the way they wanted to now.

  His short interview went well. He smiled and talked driving, gave credit to his entire pit for how well he did. I got caught up in watching him, in the sound of his voice while he finished up.

  That’s probably why I hadn’t seen it coming.

  “Thank you, Arrow, for taking the time to talk with us,” the reporter said.

  “Anytime.” He smiled.

  “Now that the official interview is over…” she cooed, lowering her mic as if that lent itself to some kind of privacy. “I was wondering if you had a comment on the fact that people are saying you’re in a relationship someone who some consider to be partly responsible for another man’s death. Another man he claimed to love.”

  My jaw dropped, like full on hung open, exposing all my back teeth. Just when I thought the bitch was going to abide by the rules, just when I was all taken in by his bad-boy driver smile, she dropped a grenade.

  My mouth made a snapping sound when it lashed closed. Tension radiated, and my body was stiff when I leapt forward. My chest met Arrow’s palm. Gently, he pushed me back, and I stared at him with incredulous anger.

  His eyes met mine; he shook his head once, like one swift swipe of a blade freezing me mid-flip-out.

  “What people?” Arrow asked, his voice icy quiet.

  My eyes widened. This was a new tone.

  He moved predatorily, putting his body between mine and the reporter and her henchman, who was still aiming his camera at us all.

  The reporter gave a nervous laugh. “It’s being reported—”

  “So you just made it up.” Arrow cut her off, his voice sharp and deep. He didn’t yell. He didn’t even sound angry.

  But oh my, he was deadly. Protective. Not at all caught off guard the way I thought he would be. It was as if he was prepared—no—expecting this to happen.

  “Of course not. It’s no secret.”

  “It’s no secret you were told not
to speak to me about anything that didn’t involve today’s race,” Arrow said coldly. He reached out, yanking off the press pass that was clipped to her blouse. “You won’t be needing this ever again. Pissing off Ron Gamble is career suicide.”

  “I beg your pardon,” she said, haughty.

  He rose, his back muscles tensed, and he motioned to someone in the distance. I followed his lead and watched as two security officers came striding over.

  “These people need to be shown the door,” Arrow said when they were within earshot.

  “How dare you?” The reporter fumed. “You can’t just tell me to leave.”

  Without a word, Arrow made a show of slyly tucking her press pass in his back pocket.

  She lunged at him. Another thing I didn’t see coming.

  With a growl, I surged forward, but his back blocked me. Instead of reaching out to protect himself, he reached behind him and palmed my sides, taking care of me first.

  The woman didn’t make contact. She was hauled off by the guards, her cameraman left to follow.

  Arrow stood and watched in stony silence, which, quite frankly, was as unnerving as it was hot, because damn, he was a lot more like Lorhaven than I gave him credit for.

  When she was completely gone, his hands dropped away and he turned. “We should work on your interview skills before tomorrow.”

  I gaped at him. Then with a growl, I crossed my arms over my chest. “She asked you how you felt about dating a killer.”

  His face darkened. “You’re not a killer. And she was a total cunt.”

  I blinked. Blinked again. “Did you just say…?”

  “Yeah, and I hate that word, but that’s exactly what she was.”

  I laughed. A laugh that rumbled up from my guts.

  Arrow’s lips twitched. Before it could turn into a full-on smile, his eyes sharpened on something over my shoulder. His mouth flattened, and that Lorhaven-like look came over his face again.

  “No,” he half yelled, half roared.

  I glanced around in time to see another reporter turn and scurry away.

  “I thought I needed to protect you from all of this,” I murmured.

  Arrow laughed. “I got this, Hopp. I got you.”

  Yes. Yes, he did.

  Clearing my throat, I changed the subject. If I didn’t, I might jump him right here and give all the photogs hanging around a nice payday. “You drove like a fucking beast today.”

 

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