Like Scott, she has been blaming motorcycles and the racing lifestyle for Dad’s shortcomings. But I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately, and the truth is what I just told her.
“If that’s true,” Mom argues. “Then why do you want to race? Why are you always trying so hard to impress him? Nothing you can do will keep his attention longer than a fleeting moment.”
She’s right. “I want to race for me. Because I love it. I love everything about it. The power, the speed, the control. I love my dad, even if he isn’t perfect. But I admire him as a racer. He was the greatest, the Sidney Crosby of racing.” I say, looking at my stepfather. “And I want to be like him. I want to be better than him one day. And before you say anything, I know it’s gonna be ten times harder for me because I’m a woman. That doesn’t change what I want. So, I want to race when the new racetrack opens. Not as JJ Smith, as myself.”
Mom shakes her head. “You know I can’t support that. But you’re an adult now, so I can’t tell you what to do or send you to boarding school.”
“Really?” I’m surprised she isn’t putting up more of a fight about this. “You aren’t going to cut me off financially?”
“No. As long as you promise to keep going to school.”
That’s not a hard promise to make. “Deal. But I want to study engineering. I want to design my own motorcycle one day.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “I guess that’s fine. At least you’ll have an excellent degree if what you want doesn’t pan out. But can I ask you a question?”
The fact that she doesn’t believe I can be even greater than Dad hurts, but she’s reacting better than I expected, so I decide to choose my battles. “Sure. What do you want to know?”
“Why JJ Smith? I don’t get it.”
Wren asked me the same question.
“Maybe it isn’t that obvious, but it shouldn’t be that hard to figure out for you, Mom. Remember, you used to call me John Junior when I was a kid because I wanted to do everything Dad did? That’s what JJ stands for. And Smith is your maiden name.”
The emotion in Mom’s eyes changes. “So it was a tribute to both of us?”
I scoot forward to grab her hand and squeeze it. “It was.”
“Like I said,” Mom sighs. “I don’t like it, but I can’t stop you.”
I smile, relieved that I can pursue my dream without having to hide it anymore.
“I’m sorry, princess.” I let go of Mom’s hand, turning to look at Ares. “But you aren’t racing.”
My stepbrother’s scowl reminds me of when we first met. He’s sitting right next to me, and he’s looking at me as if I were a piece of hairy gum stuck to the sole of his shoe.
“Why not?” My glare is just as though as I stare him down.
“Because someone is trying to hurt you, that’s why.” He bites out. “We’ve always wondered if the intended target of the masked rider was JJ Smith or if they knew about JJ’s identity.”
His tone rubs me the wrong way. “I know. I’m not an idiot, Ares. I don’t think it matters if they knew at this point, right? Since the last race, my identity was officially out in the open.”
Ares agrees with me way too easily, and I know it’s a trap. “Exactly.” He looks at our parents. “It can only be her ex. Fox bears a grudge for being rejected, and he hired someone to hurt you. It’s the only thing that makes sense. JJ Smith appeared out of nowhere right before you broke up with Fox. The day after, the masked rider made his appearance. And it isn’t a coincidence that Fox is here the second time around too. Sorry, princess, but you have a target on your back. I can’t let you race.”
God, I love Ares so fucking much that it hurts. But sometimes I want to hit him just as hard.
“It’s not up to you.” My tone is as harsh and unyielding as his own.
Scott intervenes. “Zara, Ares is right. You had to race because of Morelli, but now that he can’t blackmail you anymore, we would be crazy to let you risk getting hurt if that bike comes back.”
Ares nods. “I don’t think it’s an if. I think it’s more of a question of when. I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous.”
“Yes,” Mom agrees. “How did I not think about this? I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything that has happened. But it’s too dangerous to race under the circumstances.”
Chance and Lev agree with Ares and our parents. Traitors.
“Zee, I know you want to race. But I have to side with Ares on this one. Without Mason forcing you to race, you have to think about your own safety.”
“Baby,” Chance laces his fingers through mine. “They’re right. You’d be a sitting duck waiting to be taken down.”
