Page 38 of Vicious Temptation

“So forget him,” he says so nonchalantly, like it’s that easy.

I wish it were.

I have this annoying habit of hyperfocusing on the shit I mess up, replaying every mistake until I’ve picked it apart from every possible angle. And Thiago has already taken up more space in my head tonight than he deserves.

Grinning behind my helmet, I accelerate, letting the speed drown out everything else.

Fuck Thiago and fuck his badge.

“Try to keep up, old man,” I tease, pushing my bike a little harder.

“Ease off, Remi girl. We’re about to hit some traffic.” He slips into his dad voice, but I hear the amusement in his tone as his engine climbs.

Up ahead, headlights cluster near a stretch of highway I know too well. I didn’t set out to come here tonight, but seeing them makes me wonder if some part of me knew exactly where I was going.

Furia looks a lot different from the days Val and I used to run it, but the energy hasn’t changed. I can already feel that familiar rush building as I remember the first night we rolled up with ten grand in our pockets and fire in our eyes.

“Tonight?” Papá asks. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“It’s as good a night as any.” I glance over at him. “Be my co-pilot?”

He wasn’t thrilled when he found out what Valentina and I were up to on weekends. I’d had my driver’s license for barely a month before my first race. But as always, he knew it was something I needed and loved, and with every win, it became a little easier for him to accept. Mamá took longer to come around, but for someone who was spilling blood for money at my age, I suppose she didn’t have much room to argue.

I slow as we approach, recognizing the lineup, along with one car in particular. The matte red Demon 170 is a pretty little thing, almost as pretty as my baby.

It belongs to an old acquaintance, Rafe. I haven’t seen him in over a year, but I’d never forget his face or the scar slashing across both corners of his mouth. He’s told five different stories about how he got it, and I’m sure the truth is buried somewhere beneath the bullshit.

I roll up behind him and cut the engine, taking in what he’s working with. The wide drag radials tell me the car is built to launch hard and run straight.

“Remi Cain, is that you?” he asks with a sly grin. “Almost didn’t recognize you without the hair.”

I flip a strand over my shoulder out of instinct, remembering the platinum streak that used to be my signature look. I’ve been all black for about three years now, but maybe it’s time to bring her back.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while,” I say.

He folds his arms, a smile breaking through like he’s in on something I’m not. “Yeah, well…I’ve been a little tied up. Got locked up in another county for a bit. Some shit charge that took longer than it should have to clear.”

“That so?”

He shrugs. “You know how it goes.”

I nod once, then tip my chin toward the Demon. “You racing that tonight?”

“Was planning on it.”

I look over the car again, already making the call. “Let me take it. We’ll split the win.”

Rafe takes a second longer than I expect to answer, but then he pushes off the car, digs into his pocket, and tosses me the keys.

“Anything for you, reina.”

Papá comes up behind me, and whatever confidence Rafe had a second ago slips when he notices him, and he takes a step back. I glance over my shoulder to find Papá watching him. My father has never meddled in my life, but bullshit has never gotten past him easily either.

I turn back to Rafe with a smug grin. Maybe it isn’t normal to be proud of your parents for the violent things they’ve done, but in their world, survival never came clean.

“See you at the finish line, Rafe. And thanks again.”

Once I add my name to the roster, we climb inside the beautiful machine. I take a second to get a feel for the wheel, the pedals, and the controls around me.