by Amy Gregory
Putting his heart aside, Eli took Dallas’s words at face value. They didn’t have anything to do with him romantically, it all boiled down to money.
“It’s not help, Dallas. You’re a smart guy. Who do you think pays for pro riders to race?”
“Sponsors.”
“Exactly.”
Dallas broke eye contact and stared back up at the stars. Eli took a moment to study him, to watch the lines come and go across his face, to see the tug and pull at his mouth, knowing he was biting the inside of his cheek. He had met thousands of children over the years. Granted, until the academy opened, he hadn’t gotten to know very many of them well. That didn’t change the fact that there wasn’t another one out there like him. His riding aside, the way he carried himself, the way he acted, was more mature than a fair amount of adults Eli knew.
It all just added to the growing pile of reasons he wanted Honor and Dallas to stay with him. Eli knew he could wrap the money up in different wording, but judging by the doubt still present on Dallas’s face, it was going to be hell trying to get Honor to accept it. That was okay. He had a bigger, much more involved plan than what James was proposing.
“Thanks for being nice to my mom, Eli.”
Eli blew out a breath at the meaning. He wasn’t thanking Eli for the money to race, he wasn’t thanking him for the training on the track they were laying on. Dallas was thanking him for being a good man to his mother. Something a lot of children took for granted. Molly wouldn’t though. And she’d be a good person for him to talk to if he ever needed to. He would have to bring that up later, after he discussed what Dallas revealed with Honor. He’d give her the option and let her make that decision.
At the thought of Honor, Eli dropped back to the ground, the truth of her past and knowledge of what he wanted for her future swirled and fought inside his head.
The desperate promise rushed out immediately to reassure the child lying next to him. “Always…Dallas. I promise. Always.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sunshine and a warm breeze combined with the cool afternoon made the perfect conditions for practice. Three-fourths of the dirt track was surrounded by maple trees, their new leaves fluttering in the spring air. It was a picturesque view, but for a racer, it was paradise.
The track wasn’t too dry, and Brody had just tilled it during the early morning hours. With the academy booked to capacity, it was going to be a long day. Sometimes the sessions could be split so all four men didn’t have to stand trackside all day every day, but not this week. By the looks of enrollment, Brody, Jesse, Carter, and Eli would be spending every waking minute trackside this season. Great for the school…not so much for his back.
It made Eli proud that their dream became a reality, but it surpassed even their wildest dreams. Now their next ambition was the last piece of the puzzle to put in place.
The track was larger than some of the boys were used to, so after seven to ten laps, they’d pull off for a drink and further pointers. Even with traffic coming and going, it still made for a busy track, with fourteen other bikes running at the moment. It was still the number 108 bike that the instructors were all watching with a keen sense of pride and expectation.
Their golden child.
The distinct pause in the otherwise steady roar of the motor sent Eli’s stomach lurching.
“Oh…My…God,” Eli yelled as he sprinted across the track.
He heard Jesse’s frantic scream in the distance calling out for Emery as they both went running toward the inevitable.
Dallas had landed hard on the backside of the double, then with no power from the stalled engine, the momentum he had going threw him over the handlebars. He landed a few feet away, rolling over like a rag doll.
“Dallas!” Eli reached him first and crouched down, gently pulling his goggles off. “Son, what hurts?”
Coming from different directions, the sound of feet running in the dirt, heavy breathing and layered conversations became louder as Brody, Carter, and Jesse reached them.
“I’m okay, Eli,” he said through labored breathing. The shock and pain was evident in his voice and across his face.
He started to roll over, trying to sit up. Eli on one side and Brody on the other, both helped ease him into a sitting position, hearing the quiet grunts of pain in the process.
“Son, we need to take you in and have you looked at,” Eli replied quietly as he patted Dallas’s back.
Dallas unlatched the brace around his neck, removing it so he could unstrap his helmet. “I’m okay, really, Eli. Just don’t tell my mom.”
Eli already had his cell lying in his palm getting ready to dial. With his thumb hovering over the screen, he looked at Dallas like the child was nuts. “You’re freaking kidding me, right? She’d kick my ass then so would every other woman on this property.”
Dallas’s legs were bent at the knee and his forearms rested on his thighs. He looked shaken, but the corner of Dallas’s mouth turned up for a split-second. Then he closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands.
The fall had taken more out of him than he was letting on. Fear heated Eli’s skin. Hitting the number one on speed dial, Eli waited, forcing himself to sound as close to calm and normal as possible.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said with a smile plastered in place. Inside, he cringed every time Dallas winced.
“Oh hi, Eli. How’s it going? I was just about to make you guys a special treat.”
“Good. But, hey honey, are you where you can stop and head to the track? The keys are on the counter. Just take the truck.”
“I am…but. I don’t know, Eli. I mean…it’s, well, your truck.”
He nodded again, expecting her hesitation on driving his vehicle. “I’m sure. Just head over and meet me at the shop.”
“All right. I guess.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Emery raised an eyebrow.
Eli shook his head. “Not over the phone.”
Dallas started to get up. “I’m okay now, Eli. I’m ready to get back on.”
“Rest, son.” Eli clasped his shoulder to keep him on the ground. “You took a hell of tumble. Just sit for a bit.”
Between Brody, Carter, Jesse, and himself, they asked poor Dallas a hundred questions. How does this feel, does that hurt, how’s your head, are you dizzy, and on and on. They had years of firsthand knowledge between the four of them. They knew what to ask and what to look for. He passed with correct answers to each question.
“Well, we’ll see what your mom says when she gets here. I’d still feel better if we took you to get checked out.”
“Really, Eli. I’m fine. I’m ready to get back on my bike.”
Emery had gone to Dallas first, and after giving him a quick assessment, she must have assumed the four men had things under control because she’d been kneeling by the bike since.
Shaking her head, she glanced at Dallas. “Your bike isn’t going anywhere for the rest of the afternoon, honey. Sorry.”
Emery pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and dialed. “Karen, I know James is working from the house and he’s terribly busy today, but we need him. It’s urgent…it’s Dallas. We’re by the North double. Thanks.”
With Emery’s words and tone, Dallas’s eyes went scared, his face darting toward Eli, searching for answers.
The fact that the bike had cut out at all was dangerous. The fact that it was mid-air during a jump could have been a catastrophe. Especially since it was a child on the bike. Eli ran a hand over his tightly shaved head and blew out a breath.
He didn’t have much experience in handling a kid. He’d had his fair share of house guests enrolled in the academy, and he’d been trackside for accidents in the past. However, none of them were Honor’s son. There was an attachment to this child, to Dallas, that he didn’t have with other children. The twins and Brody’s son being the exception.
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The protector in Eli knew enough to call Honor, he knew enough to take a stand to keep him off the bike a little longer. But what came next? And like Dallas, Emery’s mannerisms and cryptic words had him passing nervous and skating into freaked out.
They didn’t call James with problems on the track. They never bothered him with accidents. Accidents were inescapable. Put a butt on a bike and put the bike on a track. At some point there would be a crash. It didn’t matter how good the racer was. They were prepared, though for even the most severe injuries. They had been meticulous in formulating plans, and they had the system down pat. Those plans…never involved bothering James.
Unless.
No fucking way.
Sucking in a deep sharp breath, Eli’s head tilted, and his eyes fixed on Emery’s as he silently questioned her actions and her words. The wide green eyes locked on his told him everything he needed to know.
Dallas…didn’t…wreck. No. Shit. This couldn’t be happening.
The sound of the Gator coming up from behind had them all turning. James pulled up with Honor in the seat beside him.
“You weren’t at the sho—” Honor looked between the legs surrounding the boy. “Dallas!” Hopping out hastily, she dropped to her knees by his side. “Are you okay, honey? What happened? Eli, damn it, why didn’t you tell me he was down?”
He pulled her back standing and without thinking, he pulled her into his arms. “He’s all right. I’d still like to have him checked out, but he’s arguing. Wants to get back on his bike.” He kept his words light for Dallas’s sake, but pulled Honor in closer, whispering in her ear. “We are all going back to the shop. We need to talk. Do you want him there for this?”
Honor withdrew enough to look him in the eyes. Eli didn’t hide the seriousness or worry in his face. He felt her stiffen in his hold, felt the fear in her grow from just scared to flat-out panicked.
“What’s going on, Eli?” Her question, meant for Eli’s ears only, was more than a whisper.
The golden child surprised them all once again. “Someone messed with my bike, Mom.”
In that moment, the world went still.
How he knew that was beyond Eli. Judging from the wide eyes and dropped jaws of the adults surrounding the boy still sitting on the ground, Eli wasn’t the only one shocked. This kid was so much older than his years, and so much wiser than his school back home gave him credit for. He was also in control. There was no fear resonating from him. No freaking out, screaming, crying for his mother, wanting to quit the sport.
Dallas started to get up, and Brody went behind to help him. Turning, Dallas looked Eli dead in the eye. And waited.
Eli watched him swallow, understood the slight narrowing of his eyes as he continued to remain silent.
He was a hard worker. Dallas wanted this—wanted to be the next great racer, and he would put in the hours it took to get there. He and Eli had talked about it many times. Eli had gotten to know Dallas. He knew what made the child tick, he knew his dreams and fears, knew the past, knew the routine they followed at home. They had become as close as any parent could be to a preteen who let him in, maybe more so.
At that moment what he saw in Dallas’s eyes, the penetrating gray staring at him, was plain, good old-fashioned vengeance.
He also knew well enough that this was a silent plea for permission, one being asked man-to-man, father-to-son. Words Dallas didn’t want his mother to hear.
A second wave of heat rushed over Eli. How in the fucking hell did he answer that?
This wasn’t his child. This was unknown territory. He didn’t know his way around parenting. He didn’t know how far Dallas would push, but he did know Dallas. It would be an even match. Fair. Honest. There wouldn’t be the dirty business like screwing with a bike.
They all knew who it was, and Dallas wanted the opportunity to make a stand face–to-face. To prove himself as a man. To prove to them all he could take care of himself.
Eli couldn’t be more proud…or more scared to death.
Pulling a steeling breath, Eli counted to ten as he slowly let it out. With a half nod, he gave the boy what he was asking for.
“Honor, you ride with me and Dallas, honey. The rest of you, walk that bike up to the house, not the shop, and meet me in the kitchen,” James said, his words clipped.
Honor knew his anger wasn’t directed at any of the people surrounding her son, or Dallas himself, but the man was fuming and intimidating. The tic in his jaw and the white knuckles gripping the steering wheel of the Gator were just the tip of the iceberg. His presence demanded respect in general, but he was ten shades of livid at the moment, and Honor almost felt sorry for the person or persons on the receiving end of his anger.
Emotions were swirling through her. The shock of seeing her son on the ground, knowing he’d been hurt, and then go from accident to possible vengeful tampering was overwhelming. She should be freaking out, screaming, lashing out because it was their fault her son was hurt.
Instead, she was weirdly calm.
Somehow, in the midst of the storm circling around her, she knew her son would be taken care of. There was no explanation for her slight feeling of serenity. Her son was on the ground, taken down allegedly on purpose, but she knew these people surrounding him would go to the ends of the earth to protect him. Unspoken, but so true.
Karen met them at the door, and Honor saw how pale she’d gone. She appreciated the worry the older woman had for her son. They had been spending an hour here and a couple of hours there together, every day for the last couple of weeks, working on his schoolwork. From the dropped comments and pieces of conversation from Dallas, Honor knew how much her son had grown to like Karen. The distress mixed with love on Karen’s face and in her actions made it apparent the feeling was mutual.
“James! What happened?” Karen flew to the passenger side of the utility vehicle, her arms already out to help Dallas. “Why didn’t you call me?”
If Honor hadn’t already been informed about what was going on, the fiercely protective and angered look on James’s face when he stared at his wife would have sent chills down her spine.
Thirty plus years of marriage had solidified their communication.
Taken back, Honor had never witnessed anything like it before. The silent conversation was chilling, watching as Karen’s shoulders slumped, the one word plea said on a whispered sigh as she shook her head slowly, “No.”
Watching the way Karen so naturally opened her arms, seeing how easily Dallas sagged against her, accepting the love she offered, should have made Honor’s heart soar. Instead, the crack widened. Going back home was going to hurt Dallas as badly as it was her. She always suspected it was going to be sad, but seeing what he’d be missing was excruciating.
Honor’s heart stopped for a quick second.
This wasn’t their home, and although Eli had continued to be a sinful flirt, he’d left it at that. It was only a matter of days before reality would force them back to their world. Watching Karen dote on her son turned the knife in her chest another quarter turn. She blinked away the revelation for another time. One when she could let the tears fall in the dark of the night.
A stupid riding camp. That was all it was supposed to be—only one week at that. How it snowballed into something so much larger, she had no idea.
“Let’s get him into the kitchen, I want to get some water in him, now,” James said, ignoring Dallas’s assurances that he could get out of the Gator and into the house himself.
Her mind kicked in and her heart pounded as she hurried up the path to the French doors off the kitchen, opening them wide for James and Dallas. The smack talk and sketchy passes on other tracks back home had been the extent of it up until now. Mac chalked it up to being just a part of racing. Now she had no idea what to do as she watched James assist her son through the doors.
Hearing voices, she turned to see the others nearing the garage with the bike. Eli broke off from the group and headed her way.
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“I’m so sorry, Honor.”
His desperate apology was unwarranted. “No, Eli. It’s not your fault.”
Pulling her into his arms, he stroked her back. Accepting his comfort, she laid her cheek against the steel beneath it, willing herself not to break down. Not there, not in front of everyone.
“He’s my responsibility,” he said, his lips pressed against her hair.
“No, he’s not, Eli. He’s mine.”
His movement stopped and he drew back stiffly. “On that track—he’s my responsibility.”
The tone and sureness in his words stilled her, leaving her unable to argue. She gazed up at the hazel eyes, and the worry. The anger and fear swirling through them sent a wave of prickling heat over her skin. Without preamble, he tucked her back into his chest. She felt the pounding of his heart. Not wanting to take him on, she shook her head. This was her mess to figure out, her problem to handle.
For a second time, she shook her head no, with little fight in it, more of a movement against his strength, a silent argument with her conscience.
Her mother had been wrong before. She said she’d never leave and she’d done way worse than that. She also said Honor didn’t need a man. Honor let out a quiet snort. Here, right now? She needed Eli’s help, his opinions, his friends, his strength.
She needed Eli.
He tucked his mouth close to her ear. “You will let me help you with this.”
His whispered words were quiet in her ears, but he might as well have shouted them from the mountaintops.
Honor tried to ease back, wanting to see his face again, needing to read him. His muscled arms relinquished control, but marginally. He was keeping his hold on her, and the movement wasn’t lost on her. She was able to read the power for what it was.
She’d been strong her whole life…she had not had a choice. The last two years, she’d been resolute. Regarding the hazel eyes once again, she saw the warmth and promise he’d been showering her with day in and day out.
This man was going to be her downfall. Honor wilted against him. His arms tightened, stroked, soothed and ultimately, proved her need for him. Honor let the sensation wash over her. She needed him. Her women’s-libber mother was probably rolling over in her grave, but Honor didn’t give a damn.
