Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3)

by Michelle Irwin

  “What you did to me, giving me the arse over hearsay and rumours during what was in some ways the worst month of my life, was something I never in my darkest imaginings would have thought you’d do. I thought we were like a family.”

  He stared at me. His face was impassive, but his eyes raged. It was clear why. We were like a family, which was exactly why he’d done it.

  “Fuck, I get it, okay? I didn’t tell you about Wood’s offer. Offers. Multiple. I didn’t see you after Hazel saw me talking with Paige to reassure you that I wasn’t planning on leaving. Maybe if I’d told you the truth then, you’d have known there was no way I would do that to you. To the team. And I fucked up by not checking with you about the fundraiser. In hindsight, I can see that I should have. Even before that, I wasn’t honest with you about the issues I was having on the track, but only because I wasn’t being honest with myself. I own all of that. What you have to own in return is that you didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself. You didn’t even pause or stop and think about it before you assumed the worst.”

  “You think I didn’t pause? You think I didn’t stop and think?” He shifted closer to me and grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my bicep as he tugged me closer. When he spoke again, his voice was a dangerous whisper. “I was willing to turn the other cheek when I found out you were doing drugs because I knew you were getting treatment. I was willing to put you on the track, meet after meet, when you told me you were okay to drive only to watch you crash hundreds of thousands of my dollars into the fucking wall. How was I supposed to react when I saw that you were representing Wood Racing at a function? What was I supposed to think other than the fact that maybe you’d been sabotaging the team, and would continue to for the last few months you were there before jumping ship?”

  I yanked my arm out of his hold. “You knew about my issues when I first started?”

  “It’s my team, Declan; it’s my job to know everything that happens.”

  “Eden told you, didn’t she?” My lips mashed into a hard line as I glared in the direction of the restrooms. I’d thought she was my friend, and yet she’d thrown me under the bus.

  “Don’t be so foolish as to think Eden and I didn’t discuss it the day you decided to come in stoned. She was firmly on your side even then. Begged me to give you another chance. Promised me that she’d get you straight. I’ve tried so hard to be on your side too, Declan. But sometimes you make it very hard.”

  “Fuck!” The curse left me a little too loudly as I ran my fingers through my hair and paced away from Danny. Still, it wasn’t loud enough. I wanted to scream the word at the sky. To howl at the moon until I released all the demons swirling through my body. I spun back around. “You know the most fucked-up thing in all of this is that a few more fucking months and I would’ve been a different man. I am a different man. That arsehole kid I was a few months ago is gone. He’s buried under a pile of shit so big he’ll never get out because I know things now that I didn’t then. I can’t ever let that fucked-up kid make a reappearance, or I’ll lose things that are way more important than a damn fucking job. Despite all that, it’s now that I get the arse.”

  “We all have to pay for our choices, Declan.”

  “And what about your choices?” I challenged.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You were the one who put me on that plane next to Alyssa without any regard to what the outcome might be.” Even though the action had worked out well for me on a personal front, it was also the catalyst for everything that had happened since. Except the paps were apparently already on my arse before then, or they wouldn’t have caught everything that they had. Still, Danny needed to accept his portion of the blame, just like I was willing to accept mine.

  “I paid for that choice by losing someone who could have been a damn fine driver if he pulled his head out of his arse long enough to get around a race track.”

  “You didn’t lose. You tossed away.”

  “I still don’t know what you expect me to have done? Having a liability on the track is a danger for everyone.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, well, you’ll know all about that soon enough.”

  “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that Hunter is a lunatic. If you think I’m a loose cannon, you have no fucking idea.”

  No fucking clue at all.

  Then again, how could I expect him to when I’d kept the information hidden for so long?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ON THE PROWL

  “IF YOU HAVE information about Hunter you think I should know, I’d appreciate it if you shared.” Danny raised an eyebrow at me.

  Despite how much I’d raged and shouted at him, he’d mostly kept his calm. I was sure the pap outside was annoyed by that fact. He’d probably pissed his pants with excitement when we’d started arguing.

  It would have been so easy to open my mouth and tell Danny the deep dark secrets I knew about Hunter, but I couldn’t. Too much time had passed, and it would add dirt to the top of my already nailed-shut coffin. It was yet another secret I’d kept from the team, another thing I’d confided with the enemy. Even Eden didn’t know about the night I’d met Hunter out on the town almost eighteen months earlier.

  THE BEAT of the music in the club called to me like a siren song. It pounded out a rhythm that would become my heartbeat for the night, eliminating the need to listen to my own—or to the irregular beat from the piece of me that was missing. The intensity of the sound drowned out all need for thought and left me in my element.

  While I scoped out the local talent, I stood to one side dancing to the music with a drink in one hand. Although bobbing was probably a more apt description for my movement, considering I didn’t move any part of my body besides my chest and head. In the ten minutes I’d been there, I’d already assessed the crowd and performed my usual quick analysis. Thirteen girls had been immediately ruled out based of the colour of their hair, three girls based on the number of layers they were wearing, four scary-looking girls for their potential STD risk, and six girls because there was just no way in hell I could go there.

  Of the remaining pool, I definitely had my eye on a few with talent. A couple with a lot of talent. Initially, I was going to go out into the room on a bit of a fishing expedition, but after a few minutes, I decided to bait the line and wait to see what came to me instead. Those ones tended to be a bit easier to hook, and tonight, I wanted easy more than the chase.

  It was still early in the night. I was having a kick-arse time on my own, celebrating my win on the track and my lead in the championship series. I thought about Morgan locked away somewhere with Eden and pitied the poor bastard. Who’d want to be stuck fucking the same woman every night? Especially when, like me, he could’ve had his pick of the pond if he hadn’t shacked up with Eden.

  I watched the girls in the club closely. It was important to ensure whomever I took to my hotel room was ready, willing, and much more than able to do anything and everything I asked.

  It wasn’t like I wanted too much, really. Just one—or two—hot little fillies I could ride all night long. Already hard just thinking about the fun I could have, I licked my lips in anticipation. No ties meant no limits, no restrictions, and definitely no repeat performances.

  With one eye still on the talent in the room, I made my way back to the bar for a refill on my whiskey. As I ordered my drink, I nodded to Hunter Blake. I barely knew him beyond the fact that he was the lead driver for Wood Racing. He was sitting at the bar licking his wounds because although he was coming third in the championship behind Morgan and me, he’d suffered a DNF in the second race of the Winton round earlier that day.

  I felt for him. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what a DNF would feel like. The thought alone was soul crushing.

  Throwing caution, and party politics, to the wind, I decided to have a few drinks with him. It would probably cause a scandal. I could almost see the headline: Holden driver drinks with Ford dr
iver.

  I smirked, knowing it wasn’t quite that bad but, other than a few drivers who had made the dreaded crossover, drivers tended to be either red or blue, through and through. We had to be because some of the fans were rabid in their distaste for the opposing manufacturer.

  “Hey,” I said. “Whatcha drinking?”

  He grunted a response. I called the bartender over and indicated he should give us another round.

  “That was shit luck today,” I said, offering him one of the glasses.

  He regarded it for a second and then shrugged. “I’ve learned there’s no such thing as luck on the track. You’ll learn that in time too, kid. If something is wrong with the car, it’s the mech’s fault. Today, the stupid pit crew fucked me over, plain and simple.”

  “It’s not like they could have anticipated brake failure,” I said in defence of the people who worked in his pits—a crew I didn’t even know.

  “Yeah, well, that’s your opinion. Mine is that they fucked me over.” He shrugged again and then said, “Fuck it, nothing I can’t make up in the next few rounds.”

  “If you say so,” I said. “I might have to stop those plans though.”

  He snorted. “You can try.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure I give you a run for your money at least.”

  “Yeah, kid, you sure got some kinda magic when you’re on the track.”

  I nodded my appreciation of the compliment.

  “What’re you doing here anyway?” he asked. “It’s not like you need to drown your sorrows.”

  As if to demonstrate his point, he knocked the rest of his drink back and called for another. He ordered a new one for me as well, so I drained the contents of my glass too.

  “I’m just looking for a good time,” I said, nodding in the direction of the dance floor filled with girls. “I’ve been wound so tight in getting ready for this race. I just really need to get some fucking relief.”

  “I hear ya,” Hunter said, raising his glass. “Maybe that’s a better way to drown my sorrows too.”

  “Well, it certainly never hurts,” I laughed.

  “That it doesn’t, kid. That it doesn’t.” He looked around the room. “What’s caught your eye so far?”

  I shrugged. “There’s a few around that are interesting.”

  He smirked. “What’s your type?”

  A flash of honey-gold eyes and brown hair appeared in my mind for a split second before I tuned them out. “I don’t really have a type. But I’m a tits and arse man, and tonight I think I just want an easy score.”

  “I hear ya,” he said, offering me a fist bump.

  We spent a few minutes in silence, watching the girls in the room bump and grind against each other, steadfastly appearing to ignore any male presence even as their eyes darted around to ensure they were being watched. I noticed one pair, a blonde and a brunette, sitting at one of the few tables around. Both of them were shooting us regular appreciative glances. They were definitely ready to be targeted.

  “Lock and load?” I asked.

  “I got the blonde,” he said as he stood.

  I shook my head. “Nah, man, I don’t do brunettes.”

  He gave me an odd look. After my talk of wanting an easy score, he probably assumed I wouldn’t be fussy, but I had my reasons for avoiding brunettes and he didn’t need to know them.

  I shrugged. “I just . . . can’t go there. I won’t.”

  He made a hand signal to indicate he didn’t care. “Whatever. A pussy is a pussy, I guess.”

  I laughed and followed his lead as he collected another round for us—beers this time—as well as two frilly, fruity-looking cocktails for the girls.

  “They go wild for this shit,” he whispered, before turning back to the bar. I turned away as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He threw a couple of notes at the bartender before putting his wallet away. With a wink, he handed me my beer and one of the drinks. “They’ll be putty in our hands after this.”

  It was strange having a Ford driver as a wingman, but good to have someone to work with again. Although Morgan had introduced me to the lifestyle, he’d quickly dumped me when he’d hooked up with Eden. I still went out with the pair of them on occasion, but Eden was very vocal, especially when it came to her opinion on my choices. When it came time to go trawling the bars and clubs, I was usually on my own.

  “Ladies!” Hunter schmoozed as soon as we were close enough for them to hear us. He grinned at the brunette and offered her a drink. She took it straight away and drank deeply from the concoction.

  The blonde looked at the fruity drink with all the bells and whistles, including a tiny umbrella, and shook her head. “That,” she inclined her head toward my beer, “is much more my style.”

  I grinned. “A girl after my own heart.”

  She chuckled as I passed her the beer. Her tongue pressed forward and circled the tip of the bottleneck, before tipping it back and chugging it down.

  I was more than slightly turned on watching her full lips tease the neck of the bottle as she drank. My mind immediately offered the image of my cock slipping into her perfect pout. I trailed my eyes down her neck and across her breasts, before she caught me looking. Lust blazed in her eyes as her gaze performed a similar, unabashed assessment of my body. She smirked and placed the empty bottle on the table. Hunter scowled at the still full cocktail on the table—not that I could blame him, because that shit was expensive. That was the risk in buying a drink for someone with unknown tastes though. I’d had my share of losses over my time in the club scene.

  After promising I’d be right back, I headed for the bar for two more beers. When I returned, I pushed one of the beers toward the blonde. While I spoke to her, I tried to remember the name she’d given me when she’d introduced herself. Not that it mattered. By morning, she would be gone and her name forgotten. I only tried to use her name because in my experience chicks gave it up easier if they thought you were actually interested in who they were as a person regardless of whether it was true or not.

  The four of us sat talking for a little while, sharing laughs about nothing in particular. The good thing about hooking up in clubs was that the music was loud enough that it was impossible to carry on a conversation that consisted of anything more than one-liners and small talk. It was the perfect environment for meaningless encounters.

  Hunter pulled the brunette to him and started to rub her back. A moment later, he turned her in his arms and kissed her deeply. I couldn’t help feeling a slight disgust in the pit of my stomach as I watched his hand run through her long chestnut locks. A memory tried to take hold in my mind, but I shook it away. There was no room for her in my life. I was happier now than I’d ever been back home. I turned to the blonde to try to get all thoughts of brown hair and honey-gold eyes out of my head.

  The girls excused themselves to go “powder their noses” or some shit. As she stood, the brunette staggered. Her legs were like jelly beneath her. I acted instinctively, reaching out to stop her from falling. As soon as she was able to right herself, I let her go, dropping my hands quickly to my sides.

  “I told you, man,” Hunter said, indicating the drink in front of the brunette’s seat and winking. “Putty.”

  He reached into his pocket and had his hand closed around something when he pulled it back out. He shifted slightly until he was in front of Blondie’s drink, then he pushed his hand forward slightly, touching the top of her bottle.

  My hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Making putty.” He smirked at me.

  I yanked his hand around and found a small white tablet resting between his thumb and palm.

  “What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

  “You said you wanted easy. I’m getting you easy.”

  “Fucking easy, man, not fucking drugged!”

  He shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I sta
red at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to laugh and tell me it was all some sick joke and it was actually just a sugar tablet or something.

  He sneered back at me. “What’s wrong? Don’t have the balls to go through with it?”

  I blinked at him. “You’re fucking nuts!”

  “You’re a fucking pussy!”

  “Go!” I said, hoping my tone would tell him it wasn’t a request. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops on your fucking arse and ruin your career.”

  He dropped the pill into the blonde’s drink. “I’m not the one whose fingerprints are on not one, but two drugged drinks.”

  “Fuck you!” I spat at him.

  “Thanks for the offer, Reede, but I’d rather let the girls do that.” He leaned back against his chair and smiled at me, daring me to do something.

  What could I do though? He knew as well as I did my hands were tied unless I wanted to implicate myself too.

  “Speaking of which . . .,” he added.

  The two girls emerged from the crowd in that instant. Hunter yanked his hand from my grip and lifted Blondie’s drink, offering it to her. He watched me intently the entire time, glaring at me, as if goading me to stop her. Daring me to out him, all the while knowing I would be fucked by association if I did.

  I watched in horror as the chick raised the bottle to her mouth. I knew I couldn’t let her drink, but I couldn’t risk my career either. It left me only one option. I stood quickly, pushing my chair back roughly as I did. Then I “accidentally” smacked into the blonde, being sure to knock the drink from her hand as I did.

  “What the fuck?” she exclaimed as the cold drink spilled down her front. Her nipples puckered to attention with the icy wave.

  “I apologise,” Hunter snarled, not sounding sorry in the least. “My friend is one clumsy, and stupid, motherfucker.”