She coughs and turns away. “That probably had more to do with Trinity and him than you and him.”
“Maybe.” What a perfect example of Heidi being too damn smart.
“Your brother’s always kept me in that little brother pocket, too. Still trying to be my protector all these years later.”
“He’s gotten better.”
“Eh.” I snort, and she laughs with me.
Here’s the part that’s going to hurt her, but I think it’s worth the pain, so we can move past it and focus on our future together. “When you married Axel, remember I took off for a while?”
“It broke my heart because I felt like I’d chased you away,” she whispers.
“You didn’t. I wanted you to be happy.”
“You came back when Alexa was born.”
“I couldn’t stay away any longer.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I would’ve left again if I thought I was fucking up things for you.”
“No need for that, I fucked up everything all by myself.”
I press my finger to her lips. “You made the best decisions you could at the time.”
She’s quiet while she swallows that down.
“Anyway, you know the brothers like to fuck around and spar. We’ve always fought for fun around here.”
“If you want to call that fun.”
I let out a chuckle because, yes, sparring is fun for some of us. “I don’t know. When I was on the road, I’d do it to earn some cash or bragging rights.” I nudge her shoulder. “Remember Dante?”
“Karina’s ol’ man? The Iron Bulls’ enforcer?”
“Yeah, him. He started calling me Gingersnap in the ring. Fucking hate the name, but it was something I had on my own away from here.”
“So another SAA gave you another road name that you hated and that’s a good thing?”
“I never hated Murphy.”
“No?” she pokes my chest. “What would you have called yourself if you picked out your own road name?”
“The Hulk,” I answer easily.
She dissolves into giggles that warm me from head to toe.
“What? He’s big and green? Why not?”
“I love it.” She gasps and lets out more laughter. “You’re right, it’s perfect.”
“Anyway, when you and I finally sorted our shit, I wanted to build up some extra cash to make sure I could take care of you. Fights were an easy way to do that.”
Her laughter stops. “You don’t need to take care of me. We take care of each other. I’d rather work ten shitty jobs than ever have you risk yourself.”
My love for her burns even hotter because there’s no other answer Heidi would give me. “I’m good at it, Heidi.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?”
Maybe she’s right and I should’ve allowed her into that part of my life. Was I ashamed to have Heidi see me beat people bloody? Worried it would scare her? The fighters, who weren’t in the ring to pull pussy, often have their girls sitting ringside cheering them on. Especially at the Castle. I thought I was keeping Heidi safe by not having her mix with that crowd.
But maybe I was pushing her away instead. “You don’t have to worry anymore. Except for what I told you, I’m done.”
“Can we afford the car?”
“What?” Now I understand why she got so upset earlier. “I didn’t pay for the car with fight money. I’m good but not that good.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t need to worry about money. Furious is on the right track now, so money’s coming in there, and I told you, the club is doing well.” Honesty seems to be the theme for tonight. “You know your brother’s talent for investing and stuff? It paid off well for the club.” I press my finger against her lips again. “But you can’t talk about it with anyone, ever. As far as anyone outside the club needs to know, we’re all blue-collar guys hustling to make ends meet.”
She’s silent for a few seconds, then finally nods and kisses my fingers. “Got it.”
“So when I say, I don’t want you to worry, and I sure as fuck don’t want you settling for a job you’re not one-hundred percent in love with, please trust me.”
“I do trust you, Blake. Maybe too much sometimes.”
“There’s no such thing as too much trust.”
Seventeen
Heidi
The following weekend I find myself in the Hellcat with Blake behind the wheel, headed to the racetrack.
I’ve managed to avoid Bryce and complete a significant amount of work on our project. Win-win. So tonight, it’s time to have some fun.
The racetrack isn’t quite what I expected.
For one thing, it’s way out in the middle of nowhere and that’s saying something given where the clubhouse is located.
“Is this even still LOKI territory?” I ask when we come up on a faded old sign that reads Zips Raceway.
The road’s battered and bumpy, but the grass has been cut recently, so it must not be as deserted as it appears.
“Told you we might be setting up the support club out this way.”
“Are you upset you didn’t ride with Dex and Rooster?” I still feel like a baby for being scared to drive my own car.
Blake reaches over and rests his hand on my leg. “Hell no. The more time I get to spend with my girl, the better.”
I entwine my fingers with his. “Same.”
“Besides, it’s ‘unofficial’ club business.”
I glance at his cut, carefully draped across the backseat, with the grinning skull and crown back patch face-up. “Uh-huh.”
“We’ll have fun.” He glances over and takes in my tense expression. “I want you to feel confident driving this. It’s different from anything else you’ve driven. Out here, you’ll be able to romp on the gas pedal all you want, test the brakes, response times, whatever you want without worrying about traffic or anyone else getting in your way.”
“Thank you.”
He continues down the road. We pass underneath an archway. A gate with peeling white paint is held open by two ropes of chain link and a padlock. Blake doesn’t slow the car at the empty ticket booth.
To the side, there’s rows of old metal bleachers. A small crowd of people is gathered on the dusty asphalt in front. Racers or spectators, I’m not sure. Cars are lined up to our left. Concrete barriers surround the racetrack. Some are painted. Others nothing more than bare concrete. Overall, it’s clear not a lot of money’s been spent on upkeeping the place in the last quarter century.
A guy and girl jog down the bleacher stairs, and the guy waves at us to slow down.
“This is Eraser,” Blake explains. “That must be his girl.”
Good lord, Blake’s a massive man, but Eraser isn’t far behind in the size department. It’s hard to tell under his full dark beard and layers of tattoos, but I suspect he’s only a few years older than me. He’s so big, I almost miss the slim girl at his side.
Blake parks and steps out of the car first. I follow.
“Murphy!” Eraser quickens his steps to reach us. He stops and actually hugs Blake in greeting. Blake doesn’t punch him in the mouth. So, I guess they know each other better than I thought.
“How you been?” Blake asks, slapping the guy on the back.
“Not bad.” Eraser pulls the small girl closer. Long dirty-blonde hair falls to her waist in effortless, loose waves. She’s wearing a simple black tank top and tight red jeans. She seems completely comfortable around all these rough-looking guys. Confident Eraser will protect her from any threat. My gaze lands on her feet and her thick-soled, shiny black combat boots. Tiny or not, I suspect she can protect herself just fine.
“Murphy, this is my wife, Ella.”
She nods at Blake then focuses on me.
“My old lady, Heidi.” Blake hadn’t asked me to wear my property of Murphy cut tonight, but I still brought a hoodie with LOKI emblazoned across the chest. Murphy’s clover, skull and crown symbol is on the back. Eno
ugh to tie me to the club and my man, without inviting too many questions.
“First time out here?” Ella asks.
Blake shrugs. “Vapor swears this is the place to be on the weekends nothing’s going down at the Castle.”
Before we talked everything out, I might have bristled at the mention of the place Blake’s taken on more than a few underground fights. Now, the expression on my face remains serene.
“Got Heidi a car for graduation.” Blake squeezes my hand. “I’d like her to get used to driving it someplace she doesn’t have to worry about anyone bothering her.”
Eraser’s gaze shifts to the car behind us, and he lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “Sweet graduation present, Murphy. You do any mods yet?”
“Nope. Completely stock right now.”
Eraser’s gaze dances over my car. “Fastest sedan on the planet.” He points in a wide circle to the track around us. “Lotta bros spend a fortune upgrading their old shitboxes, and they still can’t compete with this.” He smirks at us. “Course most of ‘em are lousy drivers.”
“All the mods in the world won’t fix that.” Ella chuckles.
Eraser slings his arm around her shoulders. “They fuckin’ love challenging my girl to race.” He leans down to kiss the top of her head. “Got no idea who they’re messing with.”
“You cleaning out their wallets?” Blake asks Ella.
“Of course I am.” She tosses her hair back. “Love how pissy they get when they gotta hand over their cash to a girl.”
“You want to get into racing, Heidi?” Eraser asks. I’m sort of startled he asked me a direct question. Many bikers would ask my old man, not caring about my opinion.
“Not really.”
“Just looking for a safe place for her to get comfortable driving it for now.” Blake shrugs. “After that, who knows?”
“Came to the perfect spot.” Eraser holds his arms open wide. “The guys are getting stuff ready, and a few people will be dialing in their times. Otherwise, the track is all yours until seven.”
Blake holds out his hand, and Eraser takes it. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
My heart thumps as we wave goodbye. Am I really doing this?
Blake hands me the keys and opens the driver’s side door for me. “Ready?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip, and I slowly lift my gaze to his. “I’m worried I’m going to make a fool out of myself in front of everyone.”
His expression softens. “Never. You’ve been driving for a couple years now. This really isn’t that big of a deal.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “I wouldn’t get you something I didn’t think you could handle.”
His confidence helps shed my nerves. “All right. Where do we start?”
“That’s my girl.” He opens the door wider, and I drop down into the vehicle, reaching for the buttons to adjust the seat.
“Good?” Blake confirms before closing the door.
“We’ll see.”
He hurries to get in on the passenger side. “Start with a slow lap around the track.”
My stomach drops as I press the start button, and the vehicle thunders to life. The thick steering wheel feels sturdy in my sweaty palms. I still clutch it in a white-knuckled death grip while I test the accelerator.
I manage to complete the lap without flipping the car and end up at a booth a few feet away from the start line.
“Stop here.” Murphy reaches in the back and hands me my helmet.
“Seriously?”
He points to a sign on our left with a long list of rules, including, “Driver must wear helmet.”
“In the car?”
“I don’t know that they always enforce it.” He gives me a look that’s more sexy than stern. “But I’m enforcing it.”
“Damn, you’re hot when you talk safety to me, baby.”
“Strap it on, smartass.”
“I’d like to strap something on,” I mutter.
Blake braces one hand on the dashboard and turns to face me. “That’s called the burnout box. When the races are going, it’ll be wet. You don’t have racing slicks on this, so you’d drive around it. Maybe back up to wet the rear tires.”
Barely touching my foot to the gas, I carefully steer around the area marked off with yellow paint.
I pull up to another line, and Blake points to the right. “Normally, there would be a guy in the middle, the “starter,” and he’d tell you about the track conditions or whatever. I think that’s Eraser’s job. Ella usually works the time shack.”
He seems to know an awful lot about this. “Do you race out here?”
“What am I gonna race, beautiful?” The corners of his mouth pull up. “My F-250?”
“How do you know all this stuff then? What is it, general man-knowledge?”
His body shakes with laughter. “No.”
“Did you buy me this so you could come race here?” Doesn’t my man have enough dangerous hobbies to keep him occupied?
“If I wanted to race, I’d get something a little different. This is all yours.” He taps my leg, signaling this next part is serious. “Inch up to the starting line. Foot on the brake.”
He sits back, facing forward. “You’ve got a lot of horsepower here. The thrust is real. It’ll pin you right back in your seat when you punch the gas. Be prepared.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous.”
The first time I touch my foot to the pedal, the car lurches forward, and I back right off.
“Keep going,” Blake encourages.
I add the slightest amount of pressure, and wham, it rockets forward, pinning me to my seat until I ease up.
Blake points to the left. “That’s the clock that will give you a time.”
Something in the vague shape of a scoreboard whizzes past us. “Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to race?”
“If you want to, you can. That’s it.” He gestures to a line indicating it’s the end of the quarter mile, then points to the right. “Turn here. Past the stands. Follow this road.”
The ancient asphalt brings us past the metal bleachers to the large parking lot of an old office complex. “Are we allowed to be here?”
“No one’s taken over this place since GMS moved all their jobs overseas.” He gestures over his shoulder to the racetrack behind us. “Think they just use it now to park and show off the cars on race nights.”
Whatever the reason, the wide-open space gives me room to maneuver the car and get a feel for the delicate balance between brake and throttle. A lot less pressure is needed to move the vehicle than I’m used to.
Neglected for years, the pavement’s pockmarked and uneven. Not much different from certain roads after a particularly harsh New York winter.
Blake was right, this is fun.
Murphy
Pride keeps my mouth stretched in a smile the whole time Heidi’s getting to know the car. She handles it well, and once she gets the hang of it, the exhilaration on her face when she pushes it near the redline is sexy as fuck.
Confiding in her, coming clean about the fights and the support club was the right move. We’re closer than ever. Something I need if I’m going to nail this VP job.
“Feel good about the car now?” I ask.
“You were right. This is fun.”
“You okay driving around the track a few times, so I can talk to Eraser?”
My girl only hesitates for a second. “Sure.”
A few more cars are lined up when we return. No one’s racing, though. Not yet. I recognize Griff’s shiny black 1970 Chevelle by the purple and red pinstripes and direct Heidi to park next to it. Dex and Rooster are already grilling him. Can’t wait to see Dex go into full-on papa-bear mode if Vapor makes an appearance.
Setting up this support club will be all sorts of fun.
“How’d you do?” Ella runs up to us. “What’d you think?”
“It was fun.” Heidi sounds more enth
usiastic than I expected. I might’ve unleashed a little speed demon here.
“Maybe I’ll have a partner in crime soon?” Ella wiggles her eyebrows as she echoes my fear. “Not a lot of girls come here to race.”
“I don’t know about that.” Heidi glances at me. “I have a daughter, and I’m finishing school. Not a lot of time for racing.”
Ella flicks her gaze up at me and flashes a sly grin. “Have you seen the new Trackhawk? It would be a very family-friendly vehicle and awesome in the snow.”
I like this chick. “Actually, yes. It’s the other vehicle I was considering when I bought her this.”
“Nice.” Her amber eyes widen, and she nods with approval. “You have a real keeper here, Heidi.”
“All right, love.” Eraser slips his arm around his wife’s waist and pulls her to his side. “What are you trying to talk my friend into?” He lifts his chin at Heidi. “How’d you do?”
“Good.” She glances up at me and blushes. “Not as scary as I thought.”
Eraser smiles but doesn’t tease Heidi. Exactly why I knew this was the place to bring her. Eraser’s young, but he has a reputation for being professional, even if his business is unsanctioned, after-hours racing with a side of illegal gambling.
“You mind if she uses the track some more?” I ask, cluing him in that it’s time for a chat.
“Not at all. Some of the guys are warming up. Ella can go with Heidi. Show her the ropes.”
I glance at Heidi to confirm she’s okay with that, but she’s already nodding and talking to Ella. “Guess they’re good.”
“Let’s see what you can do.” Ella takes Heidi’s hand and pulls her toward the Charger.
“Should I be worried?” I ask Eraser.
Not offended, he chuckles. “Nah, everyone here knows Ella. No one will mess with them.”
“What’s going down?” I jerk my head to the side. “Griff said you wanted to talk.”
He drops the lovey-dovey-hubby act and adopts an attitude more suited to a biker. “I got an issue. Couple bikers been coming in on the weekends. Hassling some of my racers. It’s bad for business.”
White Lies Page 12
