“Hitman! Hitman!”
The driver steps out.
And I blink.
The guy’s tiny—practically kid-size, though it’s hard to tell with that helmet on. Some dude is standing there waiting for him with his hands in the air, and it’s just as they’re high-fiving that everything falls into place.
“RJ?”
He doesn’t hear me. He’s too busy helping the winner peel off his gloves. The driver unclips their helmet, lifts it off, and shakes out long dark hair.Wait. Long and dark?
I narrow my eyes. It takes my brain a few seconds to reboot after a full-on system crash.Fuck. Either I’m hallucinating, or…
“Holy shit, Hitman. That was insane!”
It’s Amy. Amy was the fucking driver of the Aston Martin.
I shake my head.No fucking way. I had front-row seats to the girl’s driving this afternoon, and it was a total shit show.
Dwayne calls out to her, cheering her name, and she whips around to flip him the finger.Yup. That’s definitely her.I’m standing right behind my friend, and when she looks at me, I tilt up the visor of my baseball cap and lock eyes with her. I want to make sure she catches the expression on my face.
You’re in deep shit, Amy Hitman.
Oh yeah, big fucking time.
6AMY
I’m so fucked.
The buzz around me is palpable—hands grab my shoulders, shaking me as they congratulate me on my tour de force at the finish line. But instead of sharing in the general euphoria, my insides are Jell-O.
There are plenty of guys around me, but I only see one.
What the hell is Lewis Conley doing here?
My heart is pummeling in my chest, my mind racing.I need to get out of here.Despite the throng clamoring between us, there’s no doubt as to what that Campus Driver is thinking. He shoots me an icy stare, and I know I should just turn away—pretend I don’t care, pretend I haven’t noticed him looking at me like he wants to kill me. I can’t, though. I can’t look away. The flames from the nearby fire are flickering in his brown eyes, and I’m hooked.
Why did I have to go and take off the fucking helmet?
“That right there, Amy? That was gold. For a minute I thought you were screwed, but you made it work. You were incredible.”
“Thanks, RJ,” I stammer, my eyes still glued to Lewis.
He still hasn’t budged, which is stressing me out even more. I’m wound tight as a bowstring. He’s preparing his attack, I can senseit—and the truth is I’m in no state to take him on. Every muscle in my body is stiff and heavy, as if I’m standing in quicksand, and he’s doing that thing again—tapping into my nervous system, sucking me dry, leaving me weak and empty and defenseless.If only the asshole weren’t so fucking hot!
“Want a drink?” RJ asks, pointing to a crate of beers.
I eye the bottles, imagining what would happen if I just launched one at Lewis Conley’s forehead. Maybe I’d get lucky—hit him in whatever part of the brain stores memories. If I could somehow erase everything he’s seen over the past hour…
“I’m good,” I say, backing up toward my car. “You guys should go ahead and celebrate without me. I’m exhausted.” I smile. “Plus, I’m guessing Raven will be releasing her drone trackers right about now. We both know what’ll happen if she finds me here.” I shudder at the thought. “I should head back.”
“Sounds good. I’ll count up the winnings and we’ll check in tomorrow,” RJ says. “I haven’t told the others yet, by the way—you sure about this?”
I nod. “Never been surer.”
I head over to my car, doing my best to look casual, when Lewis comes back in my line of sight. When he realizes I’m about to duck out, he makes a beeline for me, shoving some guy out of the way and striding across the track.Fuck fuck fuck.I was hoping to slip away unnoticed.
Lucky for me, I’m faster than my mentor. I’m already strapped into my seat and gearing into first when his palm slams against my rear window.
