“I have to go powder my nose.” Heather says. “Come with me?”
I rise from my chair, following her out of the room toward the bathrooms in the Country Club’s foyer.
Right before we get to the heavy mahogany door with the word “Ladies” engraved on a golden plaque, we spot Chance and Ares headed to the dining room we just left.
My stepbrothers must have gone home to change and while I find Chance beyond sexy whether he’s in his hockey or riding gear, or Ares in his cop uniform, the way they look in a suit takes my breath away.
Heather looks at them too and we both wave at them when they nod in our direction.
Chapter 7
Who Wants To Hurt You?
ZARA
“No one will ever be like Atlas.” Heather sighs, entering the bathroom and walking right to the big mirrors above a line of sinks. The space is decorated in a French-baroque style, all golden leaves and ornate decorations, with plush chairs scattered around. Stalls are at the opposite end of the room, protected by white doors with golden handles.
“Maybe that was my shot at love, and now I’m destined to be alone.” She says, fishing a pink makeup palette from her purse.
My heart breaks for my friend. “Don’t say that, Heather. You had one big love, and you lost it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find that again with the right person. Look at my mom. Dad was the love of her life, and after thingsdidn’t work out between them, I thought she wouldn’t want to be in a relationship again. But I’ve never seen her as happy as she is with Scott. I’m sure there is love in your future, but take it from me, Dave isn’t that different from Cal.”
If I expected Heather to argue with me, I’m surprised when she doesn’t.
“Dave and I aren’t dating, Zara.”
“You aren’t? I saw you talking a few times after hockey games. You’re here together.”
She shrugs. “I haven’t dated anyone after Atlas. You heard my mom; she’s worried I’ll be alone forever. I know I give her shit every time she brings up my love life, but she’s right about the fact that I have to start somewhere. Dave and I didn’t come here together. He came with the hockey team, and when he saw me, he asked me if I wanted to sit together.”
“So you’re hooking up?” I ask.
Heather lowers her voice, despite the fact that we’re alone in the bathroom. “We haven’t even kissed yet. But I think he’s hot.”
“Dave isn’t ugly,” I agree. “But he isn’t a nice guy, Heather. He’s the one who tricked Chance and Lev into racing.”
“I don’t need a nice guy, Zara. I’m still in love with Atlas. But I have needs, and I need someone who can do a better job than my vibrator. Dave and I talked about this racing thing last night before the race. He thinks the ban of motorcycles within city limits is ridiculous, and I agree with him. Chance and Lev had a choice from the start; it’s not like Dave held a gun to their heads. They decided to race for their spots in the fraternity. Whatever made you decide to pretend you were a guy? You were racing too, Zara.”
I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t admit that. “You’re right. And I agree that the ban is ridiculous. Nothing would have happened to Atlas that day if that other bike hadn’t come out of nowhere and hit him.”
Heather puts away her makeup and turns away from the mirror, looking directly at me. “That’s exactly what I think, too. Zara, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you since last night.”
“Shoot.” I say.
“If you’re JJ Smith, you were there during Atlas’s last race.”
I have a feeling I know where this is heading. Ares asked me the same question.
“I was.”
She exhales a shuddering breath, closing her eyes before looking at me again. “This has been tormenting me for two years. Maybe part of the reason why I can’t move on from Atlas is that the cops never found the person responsible for his death. Ares and Lev didn’t see anything that could help identify that masked rider. Did you? Even the smallest detail could help the cops get a breakthrough in the case. If the person who killed Atlas was brought to justice, maybe I could move on. Maybe we could all begin to truly heal.”
My heart breaks for her and for my new family.
“Ares asked me the same thing.” I explain. “He’s never given up on finding that rider. I wish I could help, but I didn’t see anything. His face was covered by a black helmet, the same way mine was. And everything happened so fast that I couldn’t see much else. I’m sorry.”
“Not even last night?” she asks.
“No, I’m sorry, Heather.”
