“Not yet,” he said, taking the wrench. “But we’re working on it. I need to talk to you and Colby tonight; we’ve got a problem with the Dragons.”
Brian’s grin faded, his expression sharpening. “How bad.”
“Bad enough,” Hank said. He looked out across the pits toward the gleam of red and black. “But we’ve got eyes on it. And we’ve got something worth fighting for.”
He thought of Bree, hands shaking around her sketchbook, still walking into the lion’s den because her friend had asked.
He thought of the way she’d kissed him back.
Yeah. Worth fighting for.
He dropped into a crouch beside Julie, mind already shifting gears as he reached for the next bolt.
Chapter 12
Bree woke before the alarm, heart racing like it had heard a starter’s pistol in her sleep.
For a few seconds, she lay very still, listening. The room was dim and cool, the air conditioner humming in the corner. Beneath it, muffled by glass and curtains, came the low, restless growl of engines starting up.
Race morning.
She shut her eyes again, and Hank’s mouth was right there; the press of his lips on hers; the way his hand had settled at her hip like he had always known it belonged there; the rough scrape of his jaw when she had leaned in without thinking. Her chest tightened with the memory; warmth and fear braided together.
Then another image shoved in beside it; Einstein’s gloved fingers cradling a dull silver cylinder; the tiny gauge that had jumped when he pressed the horn; the way everyone else had watched Heidi and Marcus while he hid a secret inside the frame.
She opened her eyes and swung her legs out of bed.
The hotel carpet was soft under her bare feet. The bedside clock glowed just after seven. Light seeped around the edges of the curtains; pale and tentative, as if the sun was still deciding whether it wanted any part of this day.
Her phone sat on the nightstand where she had left it.
She picked it up and thumbed the screen awake.
Two messages from Hank waited.
You awake, honey? The first one read. Techs are doing spot checks before the main rounds. Brian and I had a word with a couple of them. You did good.
The second: Remember your promise. Door locked, no balcony, no boardwalk. I need to know where you are.
Her throat went tight. She glanced at the door; the deadbolt was turned; the security bar engaged. She had done that last night without thinking, his words still in her ears.
She typed back, I’m awake. Door’s locked. I’m being very boring.
He answered fast; he always did with her.
Boring is underrated, he wrote. Boring keeps you breathing. TV should have coverage on the local sports channel; you’ll see more from up there than I can from the queue.
Despite the knot in her chest, she smiled.
Bossy, she replied. How are you?
There was a longer pause. She pictured him in the pits with his phone in one hand, helmets and bikes and people all pulling at his attention, and still making space for this.
Head’s on straight, he sent. Julie passed initial checks; no surprises. Dragons are up soon. I’ll keep you posted as much as I can.
She stared at the words for a beat.
Thank you for believing me, she wrote.
