I survived ten long years without her but now that I know she’s alive and still loves me…. I don’t have the patience to wait anymore. Ineedto see her.
I’m shoved backward as another person bumps into my side, my gun already leveled with their forehead before his face comes into view.
“Hey! Fucking chill with that thing, you could kill someone.” Roman shoves the gun away from his face and narrows his gaze until I slip it back into my waistband.
“I wouldn’t tempt me right now if I were you. Where’s Eve?”
My cousin smiles the same type of smile he made when we were teenagers and he stole some of my father’s whiskey. So, when he lifts his hand and points across the dirt lot, my eyes follow.
Bright headlights blind my eyes from the row of cars sitting in a line, ready to be called forward for their turn in the race. My eyes catch on Eve’s curly blonde hair, but they quickly widen when I see what car she’s leaning against.
Now, I’m the one shoving people to the side as I move toward the front of the crowd. Kor, Roman, and Wyld are right on my heels, and I hear Wylder bark a laugh from somewhere behind me as I breach the front line of spectators.
“That’s my fucking car.”
Kortez stops beside me; a hand lifted in front of his face to try and shield himself from some of the light. He laughs, the sound low and disbelieving as he sees the same thing I do.
Parked beside Eve with her ass leaned against the side, is my old Maserati. The one I was nearly heartbroken to know would be gone when we left Florida. I never put a tracker on the car because I didn’t want my father finding me so easily – not that it did me any good in the end – but no tracker also meant I couldn’t find it. I thought for sure Eve had sold it for some cash or maybe it was stolen after she ditched it somewhere, but no.
There it sits in all its beautiful glory.
“Who is he?” Kortez’s voice changes from disbelieving to murderous, making my eyes swing from my car over to the man Eve is talking to.
She tilts her head back in a laugh, her curls swinging, and the man across from her leans in to brush a piece of hair away. He fingers it, rubbing the single curl between his fingers as he leans in a bit closer. It’s then I realize I’m just as murderous as Kor.
A hand lands on my shoulder as I reach for my gun, Wylder pulling not only me, but Kortez back toward him. “Easy, he’s not a threat.”
Kor is bristling beside me, his hands clenched into fists as if he’s about to hit Wylder for even laying a hand on him. “Who is he?”
“Markus. He runs the races.” I turn to see Wylder looking over at Eve with curiosity instead of worry. “He’s practically harmless.”
My jaw is tight as I watchMarkuswalk to the hood of my car, opening it up and pointing to a few things as Eve nods. “Practically?”
Wylder lets go of my shoulder but keeps his hold tight on Kor. “He’s the ex-pres of my old club. It split up about four years ago and a few of us followed him over to Denver.”
I…don’t know how I feel about that.
Roman’s head pops between Wylder and me, his eyes wide as he looks across the dirt field at the man in question. “I can understand why. That man is….jacked. And hot.”
Jacked is a fucking understatement. None of us are small men and it’s clear we’ve spent our fair share of time working out, but Markus does more than that. He’s got more tattoos than even Kortez, making his arms look almost completely black from the amount of ink covering them. The tattooed artwork disappears under his shirt and appears back on his neck, but I have no doubt it continues on where the eyes can’t see.
As if he could read my mind, Wylder gives a small nod, and a look of appreciation shot the man’s way. “Everywhere. He’s too caught up on his past or Evie and I would’ve snatched him up years ago.”
Roman lets out a dramatic sigh. “That’s such a shame.”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
“I’m going to talk to them.” As soon as I begin to walk forward, a voice comes over an intercom attached to the one and only light pole in the whole area.
“Will Evangeline and Markus please make their way to the starting line?”
The hood of my Maserati closes and Markus tosses a dirty rag over to Eve, a smirk on his face as he makes his way over to the car parked beside them – a brand new McLaren covered in spray painted images that make no sense to me in the dim light.
Eve slides into my leather seats, pulling her hair upin a messy ball on the top of her head as the McLaren roars to life beside her. I see her shoot Markus a look as she starts the Maserati, its engine easily overpowering the sound of the newer car.
“Has she updated it?” I nod my head towards the car as the crowd behind us starts to yell. I hear bets being placed from the people behind us, thousands of dollars being bet on my girl – although many think Markus is the one that has this in the bag.
“I mean, it’s an old car. She’s updated the engine and put some turbos in it.”
