“Oh my God, did they all die?” Madison stared up at him, her jaw dropped.
“No, just the driver. The family in the car he hit was fine. Their car was totaled, but they only had bruises.”
And that’s when the FBI twisted my arm . . .
Instead of driving off, he’d stopped and called 9-1-1. Racing was dangerous, and if you didn’t get into a few wrecks you didn’t want to win badly enough, but no one should die for it. He’d known staying on the scene would make him liable, but it was one of those times when doing the right thing was more important. If his sister had still been alive, she’d have told him he did the right thing. And he had. His one fault was driving too fast. It was the other driver who hit him and lost control. He was pretty sure the specialist the prosecution hired to testify that Aiden was at fault had taken a bribe. One to make sure that the blame rested in Aiden’s lap. He should have smelled a rat when the FBI showed up and promised to make it all go away if he did one tiny thing for them. Too bad Julian hadn’t warned Aiden about how the FBI got their hooks into him, at least not in time.
They’d been back to the States for a hot minute. Not even long enough to wash the dust from their BDUs when Julian called Aiden from the ER, screaming about his baby sister dying.
That was the first time Aiden had heard the name Michael Evers. He hadn’t killed Julian’s mentally handicapped sister directly, but he’d employed her, using her as a drug mule and sending her into rival territory. Evers was a sick bastard, with a lot of enemies. When Aiden’s sister and brother-in-law died for investigating the cold case with too much zeal, Julian had shown up out of the blue when Julian should have been incarcerated for attempted murder on Evers himself. Aiden had later learned about Julian’s deal with the FBI and new name. He’d essentially traded his life for revenge, a concept Aiden was all too familiar with now.
The cars revved their engines again and people cheered. Drivers up and down the street revved in answer and for a few moments it was impossible to hear anything except the mechanical hearts roaring.
He leaned down, putting his mouth next to Madison’s ear, and pointed at a fairly normal-looking man across the street from them.
“Watch him.”
Madison nodded while he counted down in his head.
Five.
The man shifted, checking a watch.
Four.
Roni’s car roared.
Three.
The man grabbed a flag in the back of his jeans and held it out parallel to the ground.
Two.
Roni’s grip shifted on the wheel and her chin tipped down.
One.
The man shifted his weight to his back leg.
Zero.
The flag dropped and the three cars shot forward, the initial burn of acceleration sending off a wave of heat and exhaust as one body, one force of movement. He spun, keeping his gaze on the cars, noting how one pulled off the line just a little faster, how Roni hugged the line on her left.
Damn, he knew how this would end, but the kick of adrenaline was a drug. He’d do this until either the cops or the FBI put him away.
“Where’d they go?” Madison peered around him.
“They’ll do a loop through the Everglades. It’s one big circle.” He liked this track. They had an agreement with the few people who lived along the route; they were paid, they didn’t complain. It seemed like a good use for the steep entry fee, besides the winner’s pot.
“Oh.”
People began to mill around. It would take the drivers a few minutes even at top speeds to complete the loop.
He turned to face her, studying the slight frown on her face, the crease on her brow.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” she said too fast.
“You don’t like the racing.”
Her gaze darted to his face. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it—but—people get hurt.”
“Not this way they don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
He paused. No, he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t control what the drivers did, if someone ran out in front of them or if something caused freak accidents. Neither could he deny that their past time was completely illegal, and for many that was the draw of it.
“I’m a buzzkill, I know. My coach tells me that enough.” She rolled her eyes.
“Roller derby?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you get involved in that?” His gaze slid down her body, lingering on those legs.
“Uh, well, I left my husband, filed for divorce, and had a lot of anger to work out. I met a girl at South Beach on roller skates handing out fliers and I figured, why not? I had a whole life to fill up.”
“What did you do before the divorce?”
“I kept the house.” She shrugged.
“What? Like a housewife?”
“Uh, yeah. The tattoos and roller derby were my way of working through my lifelong dream dying.”
“You wanted to be a housewife?”
“Yeah. I wanted what I didn’t have. A husband and family, the house, all of that stuff. Dustin saw a young, desperate girl who was perfectly happy to be his puppet in exchange for a home, the picket fence, and the appearance of a perfect family. It didn’t last long.”
“When did you find out he was a drug dealer?”
“I think I always knew he was bad news, but he bought me stuff I’d never been able to have and he gave me a home. I wanted to believe he was the husband I’d always wanted.” She glanced away. “Is this what you wanted to know? All my dirty secrets?”
The facts of Madison’s life were a lot different when he saw them through her eyes. Fuck Dustin Ross. He didn’t deserve the comforts of a prison. Aiden grabbed Madison’s arm and steered her toward his car. He threaded their hands together.
“Come on, we’re going.”
“But, don’t you need to stay to see who wins?”
“Roni wins.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because she’s the only person in our crew that’s in the race. She’ll win.” Because that was how things went. His crew wasn’t just fast, they drove to win. It was the difference between just having a fast car and knowing what to do with it. They had the heart to win, because everything, the lives of the people they loved, their continued freedom, it all hinged on being the fastest.
Chapter Five
Madison clung to the door handle with one hand. The car zipped around a box truck and accelerated down the highway back toward Miami.
“Well that was a waste,” she said above the roar of the engine.
“What?”
“What was the point of going if we were just going to leave?” It was like shopping with Lily. They could spend hours out searching for a new bikini and Lily would still leave with nothing to show for it despite trying on ten perfect ones.
“It was no place to talk.”
“Then why even go?”
“I had to.” He kept glancing in the rearview mirror. Enough that it made her nervous. Were they being followed? Had something happened? Or had her cop shadow found them? “You hungry?”
“I could be.” She’d skated off her burger dinner long ago, but nerves had kept her from eating anything else.
He took an exit that was all too familiar to her. A couple miles later, Aiden pulled the Challenger into the back lot at Stoke’s. It was just after the rush and there were only two other cars in the covered row. A couple derby girls still skated back and forth, delivering orders.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, glancing around. On one hand, the grill was her territory. On the other, it was an easy place for both the cops and thugs to find her if they were looking.
“I figured this was neutral territory. Besides, I’m hungry and those beer fries were awesome.”
“You’d never been to Stoke’s before?” She stared at him a
ghast.
“No.”
“Did you grow up in Miami?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve never been to Stoke’s? I don’t think this is going to work out, sorry.”
He shook his head, and unless she was mistaken, he was laughing at her. “You really like this place, don’t you?”
“I might have spent a lot of time here when I was in high school. This lot was still a grass field and the football guys would start a game while we ate ice cream.” She smiled, immersed in the warm, fuzzy feelings of hope for a better future.
“Who were you in high school?” he asked.
“I was a cheerleader.”
“No shit?” He gave her a once-over.
“Hey, back then I had a plan, and it involved cute cheerleader outfits and marrying my high school sweetheart.” Those were bittersweet memories. For awhile, she’d had it all planned out. One breakup and a night of bad choices later, she’d landed an older man who bankrolled her wishes. She sighed. “Look how well that turned out? So, about this thing with Dustin?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’ve told you everything. I want to get the drive from you, and use it as leverage against him.”
“Yeah, but how?”
He studied her and for a second, she could feel the scales tipping from side to side while he came to a decision. It appeared she wasn’t the only one having to trust someone in this little arrangement.
“Do you know who Michael Evers is?”
“Yes.” She blinked slowly. After the split, Madison had gone back to work for Lily’s parents at a private airstrip they owned outside of the city, Everglades Air. Planes of all sorts landed, carrying passengers, cargo, and even the occasional animal. She’d worked odd jobs for them in high school over the summers to make money. This time she’d scored the office job. It was mostly administrative work, keeping track of the schedules, signing things in and out. Easy work.
But why would he be asking about their newest client? All she knew was that he was friends with a guy referred to them by another airport.
“Dustin is just a stepping-stone to get to Evers.”
“Why?”
“Dustin works for Evers.”
Madison’s body went hot then cold. This was not good. Not good at all. What was she getting into? The muscles around her ribs constricted and she couldn’t breathe. She’d known Dustin had started working for someone else, she just hadn’t known who. It had all come to pass after their split, and quite frankly she didn’t want to know. Between Dustin’s threats and the cops pressuring her for information, the best plan had been to lie low and hope it all blew over.
“He does?” She licked her lips.
Shit, fuck, and damn it.
She’d just put a new shipment on the books yesterday.
Was Aiden telling her the truth? What proof did he have? And did Lily’s parents know?
“Hey.” Aiden reached across and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to take care of Dustin. You don’t have to worry about him.”
The concern would be sweet, if she weren’t hiding a very important fact from him.
“So, what then?” She needed time to think. Keeping him talking was her only recourse.
“Once I have the drive and I know what’s on it I can make a better plan for what to do.”
“What if there isn’t anything on it?”
Aiden shrugged. “Then I hand it over and tell Dustin our deal is done.”
“That’s it?” What about their deal?
“There’s more than one way to get to him. This is just the most convenient path.”
“Why are you doing this? What did Dustin ever do to you?” She could think of a lot of people Dustin had swindled, it wouldn’t be hard to find a reason.
Aiden’s lips compressed and that dangerous edge to his gaze got sharper. Some questions, it would seem, weren’t to be asked. Too bad she didn’t care about what he wanted.
“That’s personal,” he said, and pulled his hand back.
“The fuck it is. You’re tromping through my life. I think I deserve to know what the hell is going on.”
“Yeah, well too bad.”
A derby girl skated toward them, wearing tiny shorts and a tank top with her pads, but no helmet. Cat Scratch was going to get herself hurt. She didn’t even have outdoor wheels on her skates. All it would take was a rock in her path to make her face-plant and ruin her rink wheels. Aiden rolled down the driver’s-side window just in time for Cat Scratch to slow to a stop and lean through the window.
“Oh, hey, Helena.” Cat glanced at Aiden, a sly smile on her lips. “Matt Smith was by earlier looking for you.”
Great.
The badges had mobilized faster than she’d anticipated.
Aiden glanced from Cat to Madison and back.
“That’s nice. Hey, can I get a burger, beer fries, and water? Thanks.” Her luck, Cat would spit in her food out of spite. The woman seemed to think they had some sort of great rivalry or something.
Aiden gave his order and threw in a couple of shakes.
If she brains herself on the concrete, it’s her own fault.
“Helena, huh?” Aiden turned toward her and leaned against the door.
“Yeah, roller derby names. She’s Cat Scratch, I’m Helena Destroyer. It’s a thing.”
“Helena Destroyer.”
When people called her Helena, Madison felt powerful. Capable. An utter badass on the track. Yet when Aiden said it, she shifted in her seat and found a spot on the dash to stare at.
“Who is Matt Smith?” he asked.
“Nobody.”
“It’s just a question.”
“Yeah, well, it’s personal.” Her personal pain-in-the-ass detective. One minute Matt was trying to help her, the next he threw her under the bus, all while claiming he was protecting her. She couldn’t trust the detective, that much she knew. The last thing she wanted right now was for Matt and Aiden to share the same space.
“Your personal life is my business now. Who is Matt Smith?”
She stared out of the passenger-side window.
“Madison.”
Shit, was there no privacy left for her?
She could refuse to answer the question, but sooner or later her shadow would make an appearance. If she was going to work with Aiden, he should probably know.
“He’s a detective with Miami PD.” There. Let bad boy chew on that for a moment.
“Sheesh, was that so hard? Getting you to talk is like trying to pry open a rust bucket. All I’m doing is helping you, remember that.”
Then why did it feel like an inquisition?
“When can you look for the drive?” Aiden asked.
“Um, not tomorrow. I have practice. Maybe Saturday during the day?” When she’d realized what she’d done, she’d boxed up all her things in identical white boxes and called up her friends. All they knew was that Dustin was harassing her. What the girls didn’t know was that one of them was hiding something dangerous.
“You sure you can’t tonight?”
She glanced at the clock. “It’s almost eleven. Some of us have work first thing in the morning, and I won’t have access to the boxes this late.” And she had a list of things she wanted to look up about Michael Evers now, thanks to Aiden. She had to know the truth.
“Okay, okay.” He sipped from his drink. “Tell me more about the derby.”
With her mind latched onto Michael Evers and his purported mobster status, it wasn’t easy to switch gears and keep the conversation rolling. But if she started clamming up over something like skating, he’d know for certain that she was hiding something.
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you play a position?”
“Yeah, I’m a pivot.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the lead blocker. Do you really want to talk about this right now?”
“You seem a little tense. I
thought a change in conversation might help.”
“It’s not.” She glanced away and caught herself looking for a cop shadow that wasn’t there. A shiver stole down her spine. She was so used to having that protection around she now felt vulnerable without it. Was Aiden enough protection?
“I’m sorry. I know this must be rough on you.”
“Yeah, rough, that’s a word for it.” She let her head fall back against the seat.
“Why is Matt Smith looking for you?”
“I changed my mind, let’s talk about derby.”
“Matt Smith.”
“He wants to keep me in his back pocket as a witness against Dustin. I gave the cop watching me tonight the slip. He probably realized it, called Matt, and now Matt is trying to check up on me. Matt really wants to bust Dustin for some reason. Problem is, somehow my idiot ex-husband manages to get someone else to take the fall for him.”
Aiden shook his head. “A little history? A year ago the cops were about to take Evers down, but someone covered up the evidence and when he was arrested the whole case evaporated. How long you known Matt?”
“Maybe six months. Why?”
“Matt’s mentor was the detective in charge. When the shit hit the fan, someone had to take the blame. I imagine Matt is on a crusade.”
It fit. Matt carried a weight around with him. A constant aura of anger that was uncomfortable at times to be around.
“You already knew who Matt was.”
“I did.”
“Then why ask me?”
“To see if you’d tell me the truth.”
Madison gaped at him for a moment, visualizing her fist hitting his pretty face. Lot of good that would do her.
“How do you know all this?” she asked instead.
Aiden stared at her and she held her breath. There were a number of things he wasn’t telling her. It wasn’t in anything he said or did. It was just a knowing.
“I’ve got sources,” he said.
He didn’t trust her enough to tell her. She didn’t like it, but she understood it.
Drive Page 5
