‘I’ve always wanted to watch Jace race. Let’s go!’
Chapter 17
Ryker
PRESENT
I’ve got a headache.
It’s been clawing at the backs of my eyes and grinding into my skull since my little tiff with the maggot earlier. But Alexander’s no longer a problem, and it’s time to see what’s happening at Midnight Spares in Empire City.
As my motorbike veers along the moonlit outskirts of Booker Bay toward the bridge, I catch sight of a rusty Hudson Hornet which has me feeling nostalgic, so I turn left without even thinking twice.
I used to love this place. I’d sneak in all the time with Jace and zip around the track, trying to beat my own records. But there’s one stand-out memory with a girl who loves Razzles, which was also the last time I ever came here.
I’m not surprised the speedway hasn’t changed – including how easy it is to break into. If anything, it’s easier, with no security around at all. This place is slowly rotting away to nothing.
What does surprise me is a banged-up gunmetal grey Mustang with blue rally stripes already lined up at the start of the track.
What are you doing, Little Suspect?
I unravel the chain and lock she’s already picked and left hanging pointlessly around the fence. Guiding my bike into the car park, I hit the kill switch and follow the red taillights. The revs boom as Gianna takes off around the loop. At the first corner, she spins out, the sound of skidding tyres cutting through the crickets of the night. The car revs again. She shoots down the straight only to spin out again at the opposite end.
Well, pour me a shot of what-the-fuck juice. Is little Gianna Brooks trying to drift?
Heading out onto the track, the headlights of the Mustang barrel toward me at an impressive pace. Clouds of dust form as the car jerks right at the last second. Dirty air hits my face, a warning of how close she was, before the tyres drag along the pebbles, skidding to a halt.
I bring a cigarette to my mouth, watching as she steps out of the car. Brown curls fall around her face and her chest heaves.
‘What the hell, Ryker?’ Gianna screams, slamming the door behind her and storming toward me, her legs kicking up dust clouds.
Adorable.
The moonlight spills down her body, making her look ethereal in her little denim skirt that I’m itching to hike up. I’m two seconds away from caving to that fantasy when her car suddenly belts out ‘Hotel California’ by The Eagles.
Interesting choice.
She dips back into the car with a groan and fumbles with the sound system until it simmers down. When she barges back toward me, she doesn’t stop until she’s standing on my toes, tipping her head back to meet my eyes.
‘Are you trying to get yourself killed?’ she seethes.
I don’t miss the peek of her tongue as it swipes out to run along her bottom lip. My stomach tightens at the thought of what that tongue would feel like running up the length of my cock. Even better if she was on her knees with tears in her eyes.
I’m … I’m a fucking goner.
I dig a lighter from my pocket and flick the spark wheel, feeling the flame warm my thumb. ‘Always in places you shouldn’t be, Little Suspect.’
‘I could say the same about you.’ Her eyes dart to the flame before she snatches the lighter from my hands and stuffs it into her back pocket.
‘Is that an invitation?’ I test, arching a brow suggestively.
My comment only scores me a glower. ‘Get off the track.’
God, she’s sexy when she’s angry.Every time she’s in front of me, my mind is muddled to everything that isn’t her. That headache is now replaced with another kind of ache, one that sears through my chest while heat shoots through my blood.
‘Why are you even here? Are you stalking me?’ She cocks her hip, putting on a tough-girl show, but there’s a small flush creeping up her neck. I want to wrap my fingers around her throat and feel how hard I make her pulse hammer.
‘Would you like that?’ I ask, tucking the cigarette back behind my ear.
