by Rose, Louise
“I know.” I’d gone overboard to make sure I looked good for tonight. I might be mad at Romy but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to support him when we were out in public. We are a power couple and we have to present a united front–which includes looking my best in front of our friends and rivals.
I’m wearing skin tight black leather trousers with bright red Doc Martens. As well as my favourite leather jacket, the one Katy bought for my birthday last year. To complete the badass ensemble, I am wearing a studded dog collar, bright red lipstick and I’d followed a YouTube tutorial to create a powerful effect with red and black eye makeup.
My whole look screams fuck me but don’t fuck with me.
“Okay, Ivy. I get it.” Romy inhales deeply, trying to stay on top of his temper. “You’re pissed off with me and I understand. I’d be annoyed if I were in your place. Would it make you feel any better if I promise you could compete in your own race once we’re married? I promise I won’t tell you what you can and can’t do once we’ve exchanged our vows. All you have to do is put your head down and survive the next few months, and you’ll be free as soon as that wedding ring is on your finger.”
“You’ve got a funny sense of what freedom means,” I tell him, but I can feel my attitude softening. It’s impossible to be cross with Romy for long. That’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s wormed his way into my heart and I care about him, even as I resent the politics which has thrown us together.
“Your happiness is the only thing that matters to me,” Romy says, putting an arm around my waist and pulling me to him. This time I let him. “And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me.”
“Pretty words, Romy Navarre,” I say, as Romy kisses me on one cheek, then the other, before finally kissing me on the lips.
“I mean every single one of them,” he tells me. “Promise. “Now do you want to go to the race or shall we head to my room instead? I don’t mind either way.”
“I bet you don’t,” I say. But the thought of sleeping with Romy after what happened this afternoon feels wrong, so that left me with only one choice. “Let’s go race. Everyone’s expecting us and we don’t want to let them down, do we? They’ll only start gossiping about why we didn’t show. Before you know it, it’ll be all over school that we’re on the rocks. You’ll have girls throwing themselves at you thinking they can steal you away, I’ll get even more annoyed and it’ll be one big disaster.”
“I love your imagination. I’m not sure things will get that bad.” Romy laughs. “But I get your point. We’re the power couple of King Town and it’s time we showed everyone that we really do rule. Your bike’s in the garage and the keys are hanging up on the wall. You can follow me down.”
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “If I’m going to ride pillion for the race, I might as well get some practice in.”
“You mean-?” Romy’s face lights up.
“Yep. I’ll ride behind you on the way there as well. It’s the best way for us to make a united entrance, don’t you think?”
“You bet!”
Romy passes me one of the helmets which hung off the handlebars before putting the other one on. Then he climbs onto his bike and I get up behind him. He turns the key in the ignition and as the engine fires up, revs it to create a deafening roar.
There’s something wonderfully primal about the feel of a motorbike between your legs. All that power, yet it is completely tamed and under the control of the rider–as long as they have the ability to stay on top of it. Romy might not be the best racer out there, but he certainly knows how to handle his bike. He kicks off the stand and heads off down the drive, away from the estate and over to the agreed location for that evening’s race.
There is a festival feel to the race tonight. Someone set up a hog roast and the smell of cooking meat permeates the air, making my mouth water even though I’d already eaten. A band is playing on a temporary stage and there are a few booths set up selling clothes, snacks and random trinkets.
“Do you want a drink?” Romy offers.
“I’d love one, but I think it’d better wait until after the race,” I reply. “I don’t want to jeopardise your chances if I lose my balance.”
“I don’t think one drink will do that!” Romy laughs. “But I appreciate your caring. Come on. Let’s go and see who else is going to race tonight.”
He takes my hand, and we walk over to where Matt Knight, one of Archer’s cousins, is in charge of the sign-up sheet.
“I told you. It’s fifty pounds to compete or you don’t get to race.” Matt is in the middle of a heated conversation with someone I haven't seen before. The man looks to be a couple years older than me, with long, dark hair tied in a ponytail and striking grey eyes. Ordinarily I’d think he was attractive, but there is something about him that doesn’t sit right. Maybe it is the arrogant twist to his mouth or the way he is looming over Matt in an attempt to intimidate him. Whatever it is, I’m not impressed.
“What’s the point of paying? It’s not like any of you spoilt rich kids even need the money. Charging money to race is just a way to keep out those who really deserve a break. Although I don’t know why I expect any different from you lot. You don’t even know you’ve been born.”
The guy practically spits at Matt as he turns and storms off, roughly pushing past Romy as he leaves.
“Hey, Matt.” Romy nodded at him as he wrote his name on the list. “That looked like fun.”
“Tell me about it,” says Matt, rolling his eyes. “Have you got the buy in?”
“What spoilt rich kid doesn’t?” jokes Romy.
He hands over a fifty-pound note and Matt tucks it safely away in his pocket. All the competitors have to pay to race tonight, with the winner taking all. Of course, the real prize is the kudos of winning and the winner is going to buy everyone else drinks with the money, so it is more of a symbolic gesture than anything else, but it seems weird that someone would get so bent out of shape at the idea.
And the moment I have the thought, I laugh at myself. It isn’t so long ago that the idea of being able to find fifty pounds just to enter a street race would have been absurd. I guess I’m becoming one of those spoilt rich kids and I didn’t even notice.
The guy has a point, even if he was a dick about how he made it.
I do a quick look down the list of competitors. All male, of course.
If Romy meant what he said about my having freedom to do what I liked once we were married, I am going to shake things up a bit. I couldn’t be the only girl who would rather be on her own bike than be nothing more than a pretty side piece for her man. I’m going to drag King Town out of the Dark Ages, kicking and screaming if need be.
“I’m just going to say hi to a few people,” Romy tells me. “Are you going to be alright on your own for a bit?”
“I think I’ll survive,” I deadpan, wiggling my fingers at him in a little wave as he walks off.
I wander over to have a look at some of the stalls. I see Milly examining a boho style coat hanging up on a rack and I turn to walk the other way before she spots me, not wanting to get into a discussion about what happened at lunch, but I’m too slow.
“Hi, Ivy. I’m so glad you came.” Milly comes over and hugs me. “I wanted to say sorry I was so late. I don’t blame you for being angry with me.”
“You’re not the one who should be apologising,” I say. “I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t blame you for being in a bad mood. I would be if I’d had to wait as long as you did. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, Milly.” I laugh and hold my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I get the feeling that if we keep this up, we’re going to be apologising forever. Why don’t we say we’re both sorry and put it behind us? I haven’t seen you for months. Haven’t we got better things to discuss than who’s behaved the worst?”
“You’re right.” Milly smiles. “I just missed you so much, you know? Th
ings were weird between us before you disappeared. You’re my only friend and I hated that I didn’t get a chance to make sure we were okay.”
“I wanted to message you,” I told her. “I knew you’d be wondering what happened to me, but I couldn’t risk it, not after Archer was shot. I didn’t want to put you in danger. Who knows what might have happened if my father knew we were in contact? I couldn’t take that chance. But if it helps, I missed you too. You’ve been the one person who’s stood by me with everything I’ve been through. I hated not being able to talk to you about things.”
“Things like your engagement?” Milly nudges me with her elbow. “I saw the ad Romy put in the papers. That must have been so romantic. How did you feel when you saw it?”
“I was surprised,” I admit. “I mean, I knew Romy was going to propose, but I thought he’d do something like take me to a restaurant or maybe a long bike ride to a quiet place in the countryside. I wasn’t expecting him to effectively propose in front of the entire town.”
“I guess you don’t know Romy as well as you thought,” says Milly. “He’s always been about grand gestures and when it comes down to something as important as a union of two Houses, of course he is going to do something everyone would see. I’m surprised he didn’t hire a skywriter to put a message in the clouds like last time.”
“Last time?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Oh.” Milly paled. “You didn’t know? He was engaged a couple of years ago to an heiress who lives in London. They were going to have a long engagement because they were both so young, you know? It is pretty obvious they were only getting married because their parents wanted to build business connections between the two families, but Romy claimed to be in love. Then rumours started to spread that you were still alive when we all thought you and your mum had died in a car crash years ago and Romy broke it off.”
“Because he thought I would be a better match?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Ivy.” she sighs. “It’s different with you and Romy. I’m sure it is. The way he looks at you, I’ve never seen him like that. I think he genuinely cares about you.”
“Until an even bigger heiress comes along, right? You’re not the one being stupid. But I guess you can’t know what you don’t know, huh?” I shrug as if I don’t care and my heart doesn’t feel like it is shattering into a million different pieces.
If Romy had been up front about things from the start, agreed with me this engagement is a sham, that would have been one thing. We could have worked together for both our benefits. But no. He has to pretend he cares about me, seduce me, make me feel like we have a connection. There is simply no need.
I hate being lied to.
“Hey, Ivy. Are you ready for the race?” Romy comes over to join us, that attractive smile on his face.
Milly looks nervously from me to him, but I act as if nothing is wrong.
“Yep,” I reply. “Really looking forward to it. Can’t wait to be riding right behind you when you beat Archer and Declan.”
Romy holds out his hand, and I take it. As he leads me over to his bike, I turn to Milly.
We’ll talk later, I mouth. Milly nods, eyes wide.
Just as Romy said, there are fewer competitors than there would be for a Bomber Derby, the entry fee presumably chasing away some of the poorer bikers. Of course, Archer and Declan are here, along with some of the more distant relatives of the Houses.
Races like these were an opportunity for the less powerful House members to climb the ranks and gain a little kudos. Although few of them stood a chance against Archer and Romy, a strong showing still made them look more important–and helped them make connections with the other Houses.
Interestingly, neither Archer nor Declan have someone riding pillion with them tonight.
Romy notices, too.“Looks like those guys are already embracing their loser status,” he laughs. “I guess no one wants to ride with them.”
“Or maybe they didn’t want to ride with anyone?” I suggest lightly, hardly daring to believe that the reason why they were on their own might be because if they couldn’t have me on the back of their motorbikes, they didn’t want anyone else.
“I doubt it,” Romy scoffs. “But it’s going to make it all the sweeter when we pass the finish line first. I’ll have the girl and the prize.”
He turns the key in the ignition and his bike comes to life. “Come on, Ivy. Let’s show them how it’s done.” He pats the space behind him and I climb up like the good little puppet I am pretending to be.
Matt speaks into a bullhorn as the competitors draw up to the starting line. “Are you all ready?”
Ten or so bikers rev their reply.
“Now, remember. Winner gets all the money and all the glory. So it’s time to see which one of you has got what it takes to finish first. Ready… set… go!”
I cling tightly to Romy, my arms wrapped around his waist and my knees gripping his thighs as his bike lurchs forward. This race is more straightforward than a typical Bomber Derby. All we need to do is circle the block a few times. The one to do it fastest won.
Romy takes an early lead, vying with Archer for first place.“Give it up, Archer!” Romy yells over to him. “You’re going to lose this race–just like you lost Ivy!”
I bristle at his words. I am not some trophy to gloat about. Sometimes Romy can be a real jerk.
Archer doesn’t bother to reply, letting his riding speak for him. He kicks things up a gear and his bike pulls ahead.
Romy doesn’t act phased, waiting for the first corner to undercut Archer and take the lead from him. We pass so close I could reach out and touch Archer. It isn’t unknown for pillion passengers to sabotage rival racers, but I’m not going to do anything so sly. If Romy can’t win the race on his own merit, he doesn’t deserve to win.
Archer and Romy are so caught up in their personal vendetta against each other, they aren’t paying any attention to the other riders. I can feel Romy start in surprise as the angry stranger who’d argued with Matt over the buy-in suddenly overtook all of us.
“What’s he doing?” Romy exclaims.
I’m just as surprised. I know how these people work. If the youth hasn’t paid his fee, it isn’t going to go well for him after the race.
Romy and Archer exchange a look, the pair of them nodding at each other. I hold on even tighter to Romy, knowing the pair of them are going to work together to defeat the mysterious upstart.
Romy and Archer push their bikes to their limits, coming up behind the man on either side. Suddenly, they move in unison, veering off to the right. Although neither of them touched the man’s bike, the unexpected move distracts him and he yanks the steering to the left to avoid an anticipated impact. He overcompensates, and his bike falls into a long slide, sending the man tumbling.
“Yes!”
Romy and Archer bring their bikes close enough to each other to high five. Then it is business as usual. With only a couple more turns left to the finish line, it is still anyone’s race, but I’d lost interest in which of the two is going to come first. Their behaviour sickens me. It revealed everything that is wrong with this place–you could be deadly rivals, but anyone else threatens your position and suddenly everyone is best buddies. What is wrong with simply doing your best and seeing how it panned out?
As we took the final corner, Romy and Archer were neck and neck.
“Don’t worry, Ivy!” Romy calls over his shoulder at me. “We’re going to win this one.”
Something comes over me, maybe it’s resentment that two of the richest people I’d ever known conspired to make sure someone who really needed the prize money wouldn’t get it. Whatever it is, a little mischievous imp takes over and I tap Romy on the shoulder.
“Over there!” I cry.
There is nothing to see, but the sudden distraction is enough to make Romy slow a little, giving Archer the advantage. He blasts his horn in victory as he crosses the finish line before us, the victor
once more.
Romy screeches to a halt. Second place is not good enough. I get off the back and step away from him as he pulls off his helmet.
“What the hell was that about, Ivy?” he yells. “You cost me the race.”
“I’m sorry.” I shrug, doing my very best impression of an innocent airhead. “I thought I saw one of my father’s spies and I was afraid.”
“Oh.” The second I mention my father, Romy’s bad move evaporates. A look of concern comes over him. “Do you want me to go check him out? Your father has no right to stalk you. You’re in the care of House Navarre. If he is following you, it’s an insult to our ability to take care of you.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I shake my head. “Now that I have a better look, I realise I am mistaken. But it’s very sweet of you to care.”
I kiss him lightly on the lips and whatever irritation is left in Romy melts away.
“Hey! Let go of me! I just want to talk!”
We’re interrupted by a scuffle and we turn to see the guy from earlier being restrained.
Romy glances over at Archer and the two of them nod.
“Let him go,” says Archer, striding towards the group.
The stranger pulls himself free, and he crossly brushes himself off, trying to regain a little dignity.
“No hard feelings?” Archer extends a hand for him to shake. “We didn’t mean to hurt you, but everyone knows that unauthorised riders are fair game.”
“No hard feelings,” the man agrees. “I should have known that you guys wouldn’t play by the rules. But I wasn’t an unauthorised rider.”
Romy frowns. “But we saw you arguing with Matt. You left without paying.”
“He did. But then I paid for him.” Declan came over to join us. “I figured it would make things interesting to have an unknown quantity join in. I should have known your egos would have teased up to make sure he didn’t stand a chance.”
“It’s okay, Declan,” says the stranger. “I’ll know better next time. I didn’t think we were playing dirty, but now I know all’s fair in love and motorbike races…” He gives me a look that is decidedly suggestive, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know how gross I thought it is.
