Page 48 of Battle Scars

“I don’t understand why you’re being so ridiculous,” Bobby snaps.

Have I been abducted by aliens and transported to an alternate universe? This is not my lifelong best friend I’m speaking to.

“And I think it’s ridiculous to believe I would give up my successful career—one I’ve worked for my entire life—and my family legacy just to get married,” I say sweetly. “Racing is my entire world.”

Bobby just laughs. “Babe, you just posed naked for a gentlemen’s magazine. You’re the farthest thing from a respected driver. No one would think twice if you ended up on my arm, because you’re beautiful, and that kind of woman is expected to be a trophy wife,” he explains, and I feel like my head might explode. “But you’re not going to get DHR. That is mine, and it always has been. Your dad won’t give it to you, because you wouldn’t know what to do with it. But he can’t just not give it to you, because he’s handed you everything you’ve ever wanted your entire life, so he set up this little ruse. You get me, and I get DHR.”

“All in one neat little package,” I murmur softly.

“Ribbons and all,” he adds with a satisfied smile.

“We’ll see,” I say quietly as I tap my finger against the side of my wine glass.

“Adrienne—”

“This has been a lovely evening. Very illuminating, but I have an early call at the track tomorrow.”

“Addie—”

“I’d like to go now.”

He sighs and waves to the server to bring our check. Bobby pays the bill, then takes my hand and leads me back through the paparazzi to the valet, where his pretentious car is waiting for us. We don’t speak the whole way back to my house, but then again, I think we’ve both spoken plenty for the night.

He pulls through the gate and to the front of the house, then looks at me and sighs. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Adrienne.”

“Oh, I won’t,” I reply just as seriously, leaving no doubt I will not be doing what he wants me to. I sincerely, hope he gets the message because I might regret letting Gabe fuck me within an inch of my life every night until he leaves because it’ll hurt when he goes, but that’s nothing compared to how much I would regret marrying Bobby. That’s no life at all.

He walks me to my front door and places a kiss on my cheek while Manny watches from a discreet distance. It’s so much different than the invasive way Gabe watches over me.

“It’s a done deal, Adrienne,” Bobby tells me quietly. “We both know it. You might as well give in now.”

“So you say,” I reply, and he rolls his eyes.

“I can announce our engagement and your retirement, or I can announce that I’m firing you because you’re a shit driver and a pain in the ass,” he says snidely. “Think on that.”

“Think on this,” I reply as I slam the door in his face. I don’t bother to watch and wait for him to be gone.

I lean back against the door and close my eyes, wanting nothing more than to crawl upstairs and into a hot bath and then bed.

I don’t have an early call at the track tomorrow— I lied about that— but I do have a lunch date with my mom, an appointment I will definitely be keeping, because I haven’t seen her in ages and I love her tons. But also because she always manages to put my mind at ease. My mom is one who makes me feel like I can do anything, that there is no accomplishment too great for her child. And she does it while ensuring that if I manage to fall, she’ll always be there with a smile to help me back up again. With the mess I’ve made of my life lately, it’ll be good to spend time with her and find my balance again.

But when I turn around, Gabe is standing in front of me with his arms folded over his chest and an angry expression on his face.

“Gabe—”I want to explain that I’m tired, that my night was terrible and I need a bath and bed in that order. To sleep.

“Take it off,” he orders, and my body comes alive against my mind’s wishes.

“Please,” I whisper. “It was a bad night. I just want a hot bath and bed.”

He watches me, seeming to mull something over, and I think, just maybe, he’s going to let me go, but then his eyes harden, and I know I’m screwed. This is why we’re such a bad idea. We always have been. I don’t know why he hates me so much because if I let myself, I’d fall in love with him completely. If he treated me only half as badly as he does, I’d beg him never to leave, and how pathetic is that?

“Take off the dress, fresa,” he quietly commands, and like the idiot I am, I do.

I pull up my dress, inch by inch, gathering the clingy material in my hands as I raise it over the tops of my thighs and then higher, exposing my bare pussy and belly, uncovering my breasts. And when the dress is over my head, I drop the material to the floor and stand before him in nothing but my heels and jewelry.

“Now the shoes,” he says low, and I step out of them.

He holds out his hand for me, and I place mine in his and let him lead me slowly up the stairs. Gabe walks me down the hall and into my room and through to the bathroom. He doesn’t switch on any lights as he makes his way through the dark like a cat. It’s unnerving.