Dangerous Rush Page 3

  The bed was pristine, untouched. No clues there. Ducking out of the bedroom, I started searching everywhere for her. It was a small apartment, though, not a whole lot of space to check. When I got to the kitchen, I stopped searching. A piece of paper was lying on the table. For some reason, just looking at it made my heart beat faster. Felicia had never left notes when she ran. Ever.

  I had to force my legs to move toward the table, had to force my eyes to focus on the paper, force them to concentrate on the words written there in an all-too familiar script. My heart was thundering when I was close enough to read what it said, but even then, my stubborn eyes refused to make sense of the letters. I had to close them and inhale a deep breath.

  When I reopened my eyes, I wished to God I hadn’t. In bold letters, smudged with dried teardrops, were two sentences that completely tore everything to pieces.

  I’m sorry. I can’t do this.

  ***

  CHAPTER 2

  ~Hayden~

  Present day

  Shit. Why couldn’t anything good in my life be simple, easy, strife-free? Why was I cursed with complications? Felicia. I hadn’t seen her in four years, not since she’d walked out on me, walked out on everyone. And now that things in my life were just about as great as they could be, she was back to complicate them again. I wasn’t just cursed, I was fucked. Royally, cosmically fucked. Someone up there seriously hated me.

  I hadn’t even thought about Felicia in years, not until Kenzie had steamrolled into my life. When I’d first laid eyes on Kenzie, for a full half-second, I’d thought she was Felicia. I’d quickly realized she wasn’t, but those first few encounters with her had been difficult for me—confusing and disorienting. I’d wanted to get closer to her, had wanted to shove her away. Kenzie’s snippy attitude toward me back then had actually made things a little easier. I’d been able to separate the two women into two distinct and individual personalities. And they were most definitely two different people—two very different people. For one, Kenzie hadn’t bailed on me when things got difficult. She’d fought for me, she’d fought for us, and I respected her so damn much for that.

  But Felicia…seeing her again yesterday had brought back some baggage I thought I’d firmly stuffed into a small compartment in the very back corner of my mind. When I’d spotted her, standing at my practice track in Benneti gear that matched mine, it was like I’d taken a bullet to the brain. Instant, blinding, painful. I’d felt like I was back at the New Jersey race, and was again smacking into a pile of motorcycles and men at 100 miles per hour. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, and every organ hurt. I’d felt like that lost 19-year-old kid again, hesitant to approach a fucking piece of paper on a table.

  The dam holding back my memories had cracked open, and a flood of unrelenting misery had threatened to drown me in grief. But Kenzie had been watching, and I hadn’t wanted her to see the torture inflicted upon me, so I’d shoved the emotions back into their cage, securely locked the door on them, and then ran away with my girl. And I’d keep running away with her if I had to, because Kenzie was all that mattered now. Keeping her, satisfying her, making sure she was happy.

  Because if she left me too… I couldn’t survive another piece of my soul being torn away. I just couldn’t. Fuck. Why the hell had Felicia returned? Why now, after all this time, when everything was finally going great with Kenzie? The two of us had gotten over every hurdle keeping us apart, and now this shit. I was such an idiot, thinking things in my life would be easier from here on out. Nothing came easy. Not for me.

  I pulled up to the gate at the Benneti Motorsports Practice Track, wondering what today had in store for me. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to see Felicia, now that I knew she was here. It was the shock that had unraveled me before. That was all.

  Entering my key card into the slot, I punched in the code and waited for the gate to open before squeezing my motorcycle through the gap. It felt strange to be coming here without Kenzie today, like somehow, I was doing something wrong. We’d bailed early on Keith’s “welcome” party for Felicia yesterday, and had gone for a drive up the coast. Riding along the winding roads with Kenzie had been euphoric and energizing, but it was nowhere near as amazing as it was to race against her. I missed that. A lot. But Kenzie didn’t have a team anymore, and neither one of us was street racing anymore, so the odds of Kenzie and I being able to go full-out against each other anytime soon were slim-to-none. We’d have to be content with casual drives instead. Well, almost casual. We had gone ten to twenty miles above the speed limit at times. Our racing spirit could only be curbed so much.

  I’d spent the night at Kenzie’s house and left from her place this morning. I’d asked her if she wanted to come with me today, but she’d wanted to make some more phone calls. She was still trying to get on a racing team. Her father had sort of blacklisted her after his team fell apart at the end of last season. He’d given her an ultimatum—to break up with me or never race again—and she had miraculously chosen me. It still blew my mind. And made me feel really guilty. As much as I loved racing, I think Kenzie loved it even more. It was in her blood; Jordan Cox had been a champion before forming his own team. Kenzie had grown up in the world, and had wanted to be a part of it probably before she could even walk. And I was the reason it had been taken from her. I had no idea how I was going to make up for that fact, or if I even could.

  Hopefully, she would be able to contact a team today who hadn’t been convinced by Jordan to reject her. Kenzie was an amazing rider, and she deserved to be on a team. Someone just had to see past Jordan’s bullshit and hire her. All the local teams had said no, though, so Kenzie’s only chance of keeping her dream alive would be taking a job far away from me. Something I didn’t want to think about yet.

  I made my way through the inner gate, to the heart of the complex. Stopping there, I looked around. The focal point of my view was the massive practice track itself. Movable concrete barriers defined the course, creating sweeping turns and exhilarating straightaways. The path was changed routinely, to keep us all on our toes; pushing myself through that gauntlet was one of my favorite things to do.

  To the right of the track was the abandoned buildings of Cox Racing. All the team logos were gone, all the windows were dark, and all the doors were locked. A For Sale sign was the most prominent feature, a fact that had my boss, Keith Benneti, in an uproar. He wanted the track, but Jordan refused to sell it to him. To say there was bad blood between them was an understatement. I hated seeing the lack of life on that side of the track, but I was the only Benneti who felt that way. The “bad blood” between the owners had infected the rest of the team as well.

  In contrast to the emptiness, the Benneti side, on the left of the track, was bustling with life. I could hear the whining of power tools and engines, could see people walking around inside the open garage bay doors. It was just another day at work, but somehow, it all felt different.

  With a reluctant sigh, I turned my bike toward the Benneti garages and prepared myself for…well, for anything. There was a nauseous feeling in my gut as I approached the place that used to be my sanctuary. Okay, maybe sanctuary was a stretch. The other guys on the team had been reluctant to embrace me as a full-fledged member, and even now, it seemed they still had some lingering resentments.

  Keith had found me on the streets a little over a year ago. I had no idea how he’d heard about the street racing, and I’d never seen him at an event after that night, but he’d been impressed, and had offered me a spot on his team afterward. With one stipulation, of course—I had to give up street racing. For good. Not because he cared if I was doing something illegal like that, but because he hadn’t wanted to invest a bunch of time and money in me, just to see me banned from the sport. If Keith only knew that I hadn’t entirely given it up last season, he would have gone ballistic.

  But he hadn’t found out, and he’d given me everything I could have ever asked for—a roof over my head, a motorcycle to ride around town,
another motorcycle to race with on the track, and even spending money. It was difficult for me to feel so indebted to one person—my childhood had taught me that was an all-around bad idea. It helped to keep reminding myself that Keith was ultimately only interested in helping Keith. He wanted a champion, and he believed that could be me.

  All the lavish attention Keith placed on me had severely pissed off my teammates, and whenever they’d gotten a chance, they’d done everything they could to take me down a notch. I could almost feel some of the bruises they’d given me. It hadn’t helped matters any that they’d also suspected I was tampering with bikes to win, thanks to Hookup, who actually had been tampering with bikes. Asshole. He’d gone way too far this time. Cutting him out of my life completely was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Besides dating Kenzie, of course. The crash I was in last season had smoothed things over with my teammates, though—since I obviously wouldn’t let myself get hurt if I was the saboteur—and they were sort of civil now.

  Rodney and Maxwell waved hello when they saw me pull up outside of the garage. “Hey, Hayes,” Rodney said. “You see the new girl yet? Hot damn, that is one fine piece of ass. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to keep my mind on the race with that behind me.”

  Two very opposite emotions hit me at the same time. A knot of anxiety tightened my stomach so hard I was sure I’d be sore in the morning, and a surprisingly hot flash of anger swept through me. Since neither of those would help me deal with this asshole, I forced myself to respond with a joke. “What makes you think she’ll be behind you?”

  Maxwell snorted and held out his fist to me. I grudgingly bumped him, when all I really wanted to do was sock Rodney in the face. Why was I feeling protective of her? Felicia had never needed me to be her bodyguard; she could take of herself. And besides, I didn’t owe her anything—she’d left me.

  Turning my back on the guys and my dark thoughts, I headed for the garage. While I kept a calm smile on my face, an internal chant was repeating through my brain: Don’t let her be here, don’t let her be here. I just wasn’t ready to see her. Now, or ever.

  A quick peek around the space told me the coast was clear. Nikki wasn’t here yet, but that wasn’t too surprising, since she was often late. She was one of the best mechanics I’d ever seen, though. She used to be Kenzie’s, and I felt a little bad for swiping her, but Nikki had needed a job, and she hadn’t wanted to leave the track. Keith had been all too eager to snatch her up. My guess was he’d expected her knowledge of the Cox side of things to give him some miraculous insight, something our side didn’t already know. So far, there had been no new discoveries, but Nikki was a genius with a bike, and I was glad she was helping me.

  I trudged upstairs to go hit the gym while I waited for her; I preferred Nikki to fully examine my bike before I took it out. When I got to the second floor, I passed by Keith’s office on the way to the gym. His door was open, and I heard my name being called as I walked by. “Hayden!”

  Stopping, I twisted to the doorframe. “Yeah?”

  My heart sunk when I looked inside. Keith was sitting behind a massive oak desk that probably weighed close to a thousand pounds. He had on his signature aviator sunglasses, even though he was indoors, and was rockin’ a pretty impressive pair of muttonchops. He was flipping a pen in his hands and giving me a smile that reeked of amusement. The source of his amusement, and my discontent, was lounging on a couch perpendicular to the desk. Felicia. My lungs compressed to nothing as I stared at her. She looked exactly like the eighteen-year-old girl I remembered—the eighteen-year-old girl who had run from me, leaving four insufficient words behind as the only explanation. I can’t do this. Her thick hair covered her shoulders in dark curls, and her cool, dark eyes watched me like a raptor. I wasn’t sure what she expected from me, but I knew what she’d get from me: nothing.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Keith said, bringing my attention back to him. I still hadn’t taken a breath yet, so I couldn’t respond. In my silence, he said, “You left the party so early yesterday, I didn’t get a chance to personally introduce you to our newest rider, Felicia Tucker.”

  Hearing her name out loud was like having a hot poker jabbed in my eye. What the hell was she doing here? She rose from the couch and walked over to me with a roll to her hips that I knew very well. “We know each other,” she said over her shoulder to Keith. To me, she added, “It’s good to see you again, Hayden. It’s been too long.” A flash of pain crossed her face, and a visible ache was in her eyes. Was that regret? I didn’t want to stay to find out.

  I inhaled a much-needed breath and focused on Keith. “If you need me, I’ll be in the gym.” Turning, I immediately left the room. Fury made my feet fast, but not fast enough. The sound of jogging footsteps told me someone was following me…she was following me.

  “Hayden! Wait!” I didn’t. If anything, I started walking faster. There’s nothing I want to hear from you.

  Her hand reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Wait!” Enraged, I spun to face her. Being so close to those deep eyes and pouty lips flooded me with mixed emotions. Why did you leave? Fuck it. I didn’t care.

  Yanking my arm away, I bit out, “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

  Her hand was shaking as she dropped it to her side. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  Her voice was just like I remembered, smooth and sweet like honey. It pissed me off even more. “I don’t know why you’re here, but let’s get one thing straight right now…I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “Hayden…” She took a step toward me, and I instinctively took a step back.

  “I’m serious, Felicia. When you left, you closed a door.” Closed it, doused it in gasoline, then struck a match and set it ablaze. “It’s not reopening,” I stated.

  Her dark eyes grew misty. “I know, and I know I messed up. I just want a chance to explain, that’s all.”

  Raising my hand, I shook my head. “There’s no reason for you to explain. There’s no reason for you to say anything. So don’t. Don’t talk to me, don’t come near me, don’t even look at me. We’re done.”

  I started to move away, and she stubbornly refused to listen to my simple instructions. She grabbed my hand, and damn if the memory of holding her didn’t instantly resurface at feeling her tender touch. “I know you’re mad, but just hear me out. There was a reason I—”

  Ripping her hand away, I tossed it aside…just like she’d tossed me. With a cold smile on my face, I quietly told her, “I’m not mad, Felicia. I just can’t do this.”

  Contempt dripped from my voice as I repeated her goodbye back to her, and her face fell at hearing it. The tears in her eyes finally dripped to her cheeks, and, not wanting to see her pain, I angrily pushed passed her.

  I’d thought it would make me feel better to toss those words in her face, but it hadn’t. I just felt empty. Maybe I wouldn’t ride today after all. Maybe I’d just go home. But if I did that, Nikki would tell Kenzie I hadn’t come in, and then she would wonder and worry. I didn’t want to stress Kenzie out about this; she had enough on her plate with her family ignoring her and her current lack of employment. And there was nothing here for her to worry about anyway. Like I’d told Felicia…we were done.

  I went to the gym like I’d told Keith I was going to, and worked out my aggression on the punching bag in the corner. An hour later, when I went back downstairs, I threw on a casual, no-care-in-the-world smile for Nikki. If Kenzie asked her about today, Nikki would tell her I was fine. And I was. Absolutely, completely, and totally fine.

  For the rest of the day, I managed to live in a delusional bubble where Felicia didn’t exist. When she was nearby, I purposely avoided looking at her. When she was speaking, I purposely avoided listening to her. It was like a black void of nothingness spawned to life whenever she was near, drawing in everyone around her until she left. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to cope with things, but it worked for me. Avoiding her even helped
me race—running from her was easy when I was flying down the road—and I scored the best times I had since my accident…something I probably shouldn’t mention to Kenzie. I didn’t think hearing that I was racing well without her would make her feel good.

  When I left the track for the day, I was exhausted. Exhausted but hopeful. I’d found a way to deal with my newfound reality. I had a plan. Now I just needed Kenzie to believe in my plan, believe in me, then maybe Felicia coming back wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  The minute I got back to my apartment above Keith’s garage, I texted my girl. ‘Hey babe, I’m done for the day. Want to come over?’

  I knew what her answer would be before she even gave it. ‘Not really. Want to come over here?’ Now that I was no longer in a cast, Kenzie avoided Keith’s house like the plague. I didn’t blame her. After some of the things she’d told me about Keith and her mom having an affair behind Jordan’s back, I probably would have avoided Keith too.

  Telling her I’d see her soon, I stripped off my clothes and headed to the shower. Once I was refreshed and dressed, I hopped on my bike again. Keith was in the driveway when I left. He watched me leave with a frown, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t approve of me dating his worst enemy’s daughter, and was only tolerating it because he was hoping Kenzie would convince Jordan to sell the track to him. That might work, if Kenzie and her father were on speaking terms. Regardless, I didn’t care what Keith thought about Kenzie. He was my boss, not my father, and if he wasn’t going to fire me for dating a Cox—a fire-able offense when I’d first started racing for him—then he could keep his opinions to himself.

  Kenzie lived in the heart of Oceanside, in a modest one-bedroom home. When I’d first found out she was the daughter of a racing champion, I’d expected something a lot…grander. But Kenzie was a simple girl at heart, and I loved that about her. Her passion revolved around racing; it was all she’d ever wanted to do. God, I hoped she’d had some luck today.