Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel)

by Masters, Colleen

  “Hey Bex,” I call, swallowing my tears, “Come in.”

  She slips into my room, rocking two inch red stilettos and daring white jeans. Her blonde hair is blown out and gorgeous, she’s definitely getting the hang of this F1 chic thing. The smile on her lips wilts as she catches the look on my face.

  “What is it, sweetie?” she asks, crossing the room and taking my hands in hers.

  “Oh, no,” I moan, “You can’t be nice to me right now, I’m going to cry all of my makeup off if you are.”

  “Well, now I don’t have a choice,” she says, pulling me over to the bed, “Come on. Tell me what’s up.”

  “I don’t know where to begin, Bex,” I say, my voice trembling.

  “Did you any Harrison have a falling out?” she asks softly, “You weren’t around last night, I noticed. Were you guys together?”

  “Oh, we were together alright. But we certainly weren’t fighting.”

  “I see,” she grins, “So what, are those tears of happiness then?”

  “Not exactly,” I say quietly, “I was actually supposed to meet Harrison earlier in the evening, but my dad...wanted to talk to me and Enzo. Good old family meeting, I guess.”

  “Did he call you out about Harrison?” Bex asks, her eyes wide.

  “Honestly, I wish it had been that instead,” I say.

  “Jesus...” Bex breathes, “It must have been really bad, then. Did something happen? To someone in your family? Is your mom OK?”

  “Mom’s fine. It’s...my dad, Bex. He’s been keeping something from us since the season started. Some, uh...medical stuff.”

  Bex doesn’t say a word, she simply gives my hands a squeeze and waits for me to continue. I draw in a deep, steadying breath. “He’s sick, Bex. He found out just before the season started. Said he didn’t want to worry us, but now it’s too late to do anything...”

  “Is it serious?” she asks, scooting closer to me on the bed.

  “About as serious as it gets,” I tell her, “Lung cancer.”

  “Oh God,” she utters, throwing her arms around me, “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “It doesn’t even feel real, yet,” I tell her.

  “I’m sure.”

  “I just can’t believe he didn’t tell us. He’s made all these decisions by himself. Operating was never an option, but he opted out of any treatment at all. Bex, we could lose him before the season’s even over.”

  “Is that why he’s only been working with Enzo this season, instead of dealing with the other owners and management? To save what energy he can?”

  “I guess so. He’s got it all figured out. Bex, he told me that he’s leaving me his entire ownership share of the team when he...he...”

  “Wow,” Bex breathes, “That’s...huge, Siena.”

  “I know. I haven’t even begun to think about what that means yet. I just can’t process all of this at once.”

  “No, of course. But, you saw Harrison after you found out, right?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “So he knows, too?”

  “Well, I had to tell him. It sort of changes our time table, a bit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I can’t wait much longer to tell dad and Enzo what’s up. I know it would have been better to let them know right away, certainly before Dad told us about...you know. But now I need to time it just right. Get the public to focus on what’s actually important, supporting my dad, and let me and Harrison’s affair become the minor news story it should really be. It’s not like Enzo’s going to have the energy to give a shit about some made up rivalry when Dad is sick.”

  “You’re probably right...” Bex says, “So, when are you going to tell them, then?”

  “Over the next couple of races,” I reply, “Then, we can let the news trickle out once Dad and I have had our press conference about his, um, condition.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Bex replies, “I’m proud of you, Siena. I know it’s not going to be easy, being honest with them, but it will be so much for the better in the long run. How else are you and Harrison going to get married and have lots of gorgeous babies, after all?”

  “You’re incorrigible,” I tell her, resting my cheek on her slim shoulder. I thank my lucky stars for about the millionth time that Bex is on this tour with me. It’s one thing to have the man in my life at the ready to comfort me, but there’s nothing quite like your best girlfriend’s advice when shit really hits the fan.

  There’s another light knock on the door, and Bex goes to answer it. When she swings open the door, I see Charlie standing there, looking nervous.

  “Hey,” Bex says warmly, “I was just about to see if you wanted to grab some coffee.”

  “Bex!” Charlie stammers, “Hey. I was. Um...I wanted to see if Siena had a moment to talk. Alone.”

  “I’m not her babysitter,” Bex replies good naturally, “Siena, you up for another tête-à-tête before we head out?”

  “Um...” I murmur, reluctant to be alone with Charlie. We haven’t really been on speaking terms since I received those illicit photos.

  “It’ll only take a minute,” he assures me.

  “Well. Yeah, OK,” I agree, moving across the room to the window.

  “See you guys downstairs,” Bex says, laying an affectionate hand on Charlie’s arm, “You take cream, no sugar, right?”

  “Exactly,” Charlie says, smiling. Bex closes the door quietly behind her and leaves Charlie and I alone at last.

  I gaze at my old friend across the room, my heartstrings twisting painfully. Charlie and I have known each other since we were born. Our mothers, F1 wives to the core, would tote us around to events and play dates as a team. So many of my first memories include Charlie Spano and his family. We’re both Team Ferrelli kids, have been for life. It’s strange to feel so distant from him, now.

  “You look upset,” he says, keeping his distance.

  “There’s a lot going on with me right now,” I tell him, “I can’t really give you much information, but—”

  “It’s OK, you don’t need to,” he says, “I actually just...I came here to apologize, Siena.”

  The room sways a bit as I stare at him. What does he have to apologize to me for? Is he about to come clean as my blackmailer? I swear to God, if he was behind those photos, I’ll have him singing soprano so fast—

  “I’ve been an asshole,” Charlie goes on, “I let what I thought was jealousy get the best of me, and for that I’m very sorry.”

  “What exactly are you referring to, Charlie?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level. I’m torn between wanting him to tell me he’s the blackmailer so we can put the issue to rest, and knowing that I’ll be heartbroken should he actually be responsible for those photos.

  “I mean...everything, Siena,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets, “For the way I’ve treated you, since we were kids. I’ve been groomed to be your watch dog since before I can remember, you know? Everyone’s always been telling me to look out for you, that we’re supposed to end up together, that you’re the perfect girl for me.”

  “Yeah? I’ve been hearing all that my whole life, too—”

  “But you didn’t buy into it,” Charlie says, “I did. I let my parents, and the team, the entire F1 world tell me how I should feel. I was just trying to make everyone happy. I’ve been telling myself my whole life that I’m in love with you, Siena, and it’s not exactly a lie. But the truth is, I love you like you’re my own flesh and blood. My sister. It hasn’t been jealousy driving me this whole time, it’s been protectiveness. That’s why I’ve been so weird and intense this tour, I’m trying to force myself into this role our families have given me. But it’s just not how I feel, it's not who I want to be, Siena.”

  “You’re saying...you aren’t interested in me, romantically?” I ask.

  “No...No, I’m not,” Charlie tells me.

  “That’s...wonderful!” I laugh, crossing the room in three long strides and huggi
ng Charlie tightly as I can. After a faltering moment, he returns my embrace.

  “I knew you’d be relieved,” he begins, “But what—?”

  I can’t tell him, of course, why his admission has me so thrilled. This means that he’d have no real reason to try and set me and Harrison up to fail! Sure, he’s still a Ferrelli loyalist, but team spirit only goes so far. I don’t know anything for sure, but my gut tells me that I was wrong to ever think Charlie would do something so sinister. He’s a boy scout, for god’s sake. My best guy friend in the world. I should have known better than to suspect him.

  “You’re like a brother to me too, Chuck,” I tell him, pulling away, “Only took us twenty-five years to sort this out, huh?”

  “Well, I guess I had a little bit of help,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Well, lately, I’ve been figuring out what it means to really fall for someone,” he says with a grin.

  “Oh my God, of course!” I exclaim, “You and Bex?”

  “That’s right,” he says, “Or, me, anyway. I’ve never met anyone like her before, Siena. I don’t really know if she feels the same way—”

  “But she does,” I tell him, clapping my hands together, “Don’t you see the way she looks at you?”

  “I guess it felt like too much to hope for,” Charlie laughs.

  “Don’t be crazy,” I tell him, “You guys would be great for each other. She’ll put that ego of yours right in place when need be, and you’ll rein in that devil-may-care thing she does if it gets out of hand.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Charlie smiles, “You really think she’s into me? As more than a season fling, I mean?”

  “No offense, Spano,” I say, laying a hand on his shoulder, “But you’re much more the marrying type than casual fling material.”

  “I have no problem with that,” he says, “But thanks, I guess?”

  “You’re welcome,” I say, “And...You know, I’m sorry too. I know I’ve been pretty harsh with you this season—”

  “Yeah, just a little,” he says sarcastically.

  “I was just taking my frustration out on you,” I tell him, “I can’t really go into specifics, but I’ve been making things a lot harder on myself lately than they need to be. I guess I was kind of projecting stuff onto you. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “Just put in a good word for me with Bex and we’ll call it even. Now come on. I believe we’ve got a race to watch.”

  Charlie and I head downstairs together and meet up with Bex. As I watch them, I’m at once relieved and a little saddened. It’s wonderful that they’re hitting it off so famously. What could be better than having my two best friends get together? But at the same time, I feel a little lonely, seeing how easy it is for them. If only Harrison and I had that luxury.

  Still, no time to dwell on things I can’t change. Our past circumstances have already been written, it’s only the future that we can control. I try to imagine how all the different mysteries at play in my life right now will resolve, in the end. But between Dad’s illness, my secret with Harrison, the outcome of the season, and the whims of our blackmailer in play, it’s just too much to guess. I know for certain that it’s not going to be rainbows and sunshine, but I can’t help but hope for a silver lining, all the same.

  Chapter Nine

  Pulling A Win

  The rest of the team has already assembled by the time Bex, Charlie and I make it to the course. Our corner of the sprawling F1 ecosystem is buzzing with activity as the race draws ever closer. Dad is standing off to one side of the frenzied effort, looking out over the course. I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist without saying a word. He looks down at me and smiles sadly. We don’t need to say anything about yesterday’s revelation. He knows that I’m here to support him, how dearly I love him.

  “Where’s Enzo?” I ask.

  “In his trailer,” Dad replies, “I think he wanted a little time alone to clear his head.”

  “That’s odd,” I say, “He usually feeds off the energy of the team right before I race.”

  “I know,” Dad says, “But what with the, uh, extenuating circumstances...maybe he needs a little more peace and quiet than usual.”

  “That makes sense,” I say. Surely, Enzo’s headspace is going to be different today, what with the news we’ve just gotten. “Do you need anything, Dad?”

  “I’m fine, Siena,” he says, “Don’t you start treating me like an invalid, now.”

  But as I give him another quick squeeze, I can’t help but wonder if his firm chest is starting to feel a bit less muscular, if his body feels just a little smaller than usual. I give him a kiss on the cheek and hurry off to get a lay of the land, see how the other teams are doing.

  I set off alone through the teeming space, surveying the drivers as they prepare for another race. Landers and Rostov are chatting animatedly as their pit crews make sure their cars are in ship shape. And just beyond them, at the heart of the McClain camp, Harrison surveys his speed machine, a wide grin on his face. Even after all these weeks, the sight of that face takes my breath away every time I catch sight of it. I’m just about to raise my hand and wave when I feel the sudden presence of someone behind me. A hand grazes the small of my back, and I whip around, furious. A familiar pair of light brown eyes look down at me, full of mischief.

  “Hello, Siena,” Rafael Marques drawls, “You’re looking stunning today, as ever.”

  “Should you be prepping yourself for the race, Marques?” I ask, ignoring his unwanted flattery, “You could stand to do a little better, you know.”

  “I’m feeling pretty good about today, actually,” he says, “I was just hoping that you might wish me luck before we start.”

  “Drive safe,” I tell him. I may loathe the guy personally, but I make a point never to wish ill upon any driver. They’re tempting fate enough as it is without any bad vibes coming from me.

  “Care to seal it with a kiss?” Marques asks, taking a step toward me.

  “Not on your life,” I tell him, “Enzo gets a good luck kiss on the cheek. I’m saving the rest of my good luck for him.”

  “Huh. How interesting,” Marques says, rolling his eyes. “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you after the race, Siena. I’ll be the one guzzling down champagne after I win.”

  “That sure is a lot of confidence for someone who has yet to take first,” I point out.

  “What can I say?” Marques laughs, “I’ve got a good feeling about today, is all.”

  He struts away from me, blowing a kiss in my direction. I bat the unwanted smooch away and hurry back to my own camp. Something about the Spanish driver’s manner has me on edge. After the way he behaved at the club the other night, I already know full well that he’s no gentleman. But something about his gleeful attitude today, his cockiness about the race that has yet to be run...it just makes me uneasy. All I want is to get back to my own people before the race starts, watch as my two favorite drivers take off. Either Enzo or Harrison is bound to take first again, the way they’ve been racing. I’ll call that a win-win.

  “Where’s Enzo?” I ask Charlie and Bex as I make it back to our post.

  “I think he’s just about to head to the pit,” Charlie says.

  “What?” I exclaim, “But I haven’t wished him luck yet! Enzo never starts a race without his good luck kiss on the cheek from me.”

  “He’s probably a little preoccupied,” Bex says pointedly.

  She’s right, of course. How can I expect my brother to keep his head on straight when he’s dealing with my Dad’s news and the task of winning his next big race? I need to remember that he’s just one person, as much as he’d be the first to say otherwise. I can’t imagine the pressure he must be feeling to live up to my dad’s wildest expectations this year, of all years.

  “You might still be able to catch him before he goes,” Charlie says. “The race doesn’t start for a few minutes or so.”
>
  I dart away from my friends, over to the pit where the rest of Team Ferrelli mills about. I cast my eyes around for Enzo, but he’s nowhere to be found. By rights, he should be consulting with the pit guys, making sure that everything is good to go before the race begins. He must really be buried deep in his thoughts if he’s still hanging out in his trailer.

  Just as I draw to a stop by the emerald Ferrelli racer, a loud crashing sound catches my attention. I whip around to see Enzo storming out of his trailer, his face a stormy red. He looks harried, not at all composed, and absolutely livid. I watch as Dad and Gus try to approach my brother, and gasp as Enzo pushes them away. How could he be so dismissive of Dad at a time like this? My brother looks like a man possessed, a wild animal ready to bite the head off whoever comes near first. As my brother stomps across the pit toward his car, I hurry over to intercept him.

  “What the hell is up?” I ask, planting myself between Enzo and the vibrant green car. “You can’t treat Dad that way. Not after—”

  My stomach turns over as my brother’s eyes land on me. The seething disgust I see there sends a wave of nausea through me. Never in my life have I seen such a look on my brother’s face, especially not when he has his eyes on me.

  “Enzo, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” I ask, “Is it Dad? What—?”

  “Get out of here, Siena,” Enzo growls.

  “Wh-what?” I stammer. I reach for my brother, but he smacks my hand away, none too gently. The sting of his fierce strike is nothing compared to how hard his anger hits me in the gut. His fiery gaze is locked onto my face, his mouth a straight, furious line.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Enzo growls, “If you don’t know how to conduct yourself, you have no business being a part of this, Siena. Now get out of my fucking way.”

  “I’m not letting you get in that car like this,” I tell him, planting my feet.

  “You’ve got no say in the matter,” Enzo roars, “You have no right to a say, Siena. Get out of my face, this second.”

  “Enzo?” Dad calls, finally catching up with his son, “Did something happen? What’s the matter with you?”