Men like Maksim, like Ryuji, just…make sense. That’s why our parents, with the exception of my mom, share a love sodeep and so unique. And while my dad loves her with the same ferocity, their bond didn’t come easy.
The thought of Remi dating a cop suddenly flashes in my mind, and I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity.
“Hey! You’re that Poison Ivy chick. What happened to your leg? You crash out or something?”
A young boy leans against the open passenger door of the GT-R, arms draped over the top. He looks strikingly similar to Ryuji, except his hair is longer on top and tied into a bun.
“Poison Ivy…chick?” I echo, mildly offended, but considering his age, I let it slide. Being a girl in the street racing circuit means that no matter how many wins you rack up, someone will still underestimate you and reduce you to a nickname.
“Renji.” Ryuji’s voice is sharp, the kind you use when scolding a younger sibling. Something I know all too well.
Then it clicks. The resemblance, the matching attitude, the fact that they stepped out of the same car.
Kuroda brothers.
Nine
VALENTINA
It takes a few seconds before I register the hand waving in front of my face. I blink until the world comes into focus, the cheers of the crowd and the blare of the buzzer announcing the winner snapping me back to the present.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours that’s got you a million miles away, Val?” Mira, one of the first girls Remi and I met atFuria, leans against my shoulder, her dark eyes wide and waiting for a response.
I offer her a faint smile, my focus drifting back to the track where the driver of a white Corvette is hanging halfway out his window, showboating his win.
The object of my distraction has a name: Maksim Belov.
I feel ridiculous, like a kid with a crush, and no matter how hard I try, my thoughts keep circling back to him. The plans I had for tonight, of losing myself in the noise and the thrill, haven’t exactly panned out.
“Nothing. Just feeling a bit achy, that’s all,” I lie, for the second time tonight. And something tells me it won’t be the last.
Like Remi, Mira eyes me with suspicion. She doesn’t know about Maksim, but the bond we all share makes it easy to spot when one of us is full of shit.
“I can always take you back home?” she offers.
That’s when it hits me. Remi’s gone. Am I so out of it that I didn’t even notice her leave?
“Where’s Remi?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to. I know she can handle herself, but we have a rule when we’re out. Girl code. We always know where the other is. She’s the youngest, and she’s family, so I keep a closer watch on her than anyone else.
Mira opens her mouth to answer, but another voice slips in instead.
“Don’t worry, Poison Ivy. She’s with my brother, over by the fountain.”
I twist around, and there he is, the kid from the parking lot, lounging in the row behind us, that same smug little grin plastered on his face.
I follow where he gestures, and find Remi, smiling, andflirtingwith the man she swears she doesn’t notice.
“He likes her, you know.”
“Yeah?” I ask, weighing whether I should step in. My earlier logic crumbles when I remember the kind of blood that trails a man like Ryuji. Maybe it’s hypocritical, but she’s my baby. Always will be.
“Yeah. He heard she’d be here tonight.” He leans back, hands laced behind his head. “And here we are.”
“That’s kind of creepy…and a little romantic,” Mira mutters, eyeing the pair.
“Why are you snitching on your own brother?”
“He owes me.”
