Page 13 of Fueled Hate

“Class? Damn. You’re more committed than I thought.” Bryce stands from the couch, walks to the counter, and sets the mug down. “Well, you have fun with that. I’m going to check into the hotel. It’s not too late if you want to ditch this pitiful excuse for an apartment and come with me.”

“Nah. I’m good here.” It might be small and bare, but I’ve actually slept better here than I have in months.

“Suit yourself,” Bryce says, across the living room. He tells me he’ll see me later as he disappears out the door.

I really should get going, but I take a few minutes to savor my coffee before I head out. Hopefully the day goes as planned and tonight will be another step in the right direction. Is there a such thing as the right direction anymore? Not that it makes a damn bit of difference, because right or wrong, I’m on a set course and don’t plan on turning back.

8

Sadie

Why? Why am I glancing around Coyote’s looking for him? I tell myself that Dylan isn’t getting to me, that I’ve only got my eye out because he’s been showing up and I’ve felt unprepared, but now I’ve primed myself and he’s nowhere. I haven’t seen him since last night, and for some reason, I want him to appear. Maybe the lurking-in-the-shadows comment has nestled in the back of my mind. Either way, I shouldn’t want to see him.

“Over it,” Willow says, dropping her books on the table before walking to get in line. Once her coffee is in hand, she returns, plops into a chair, and drops her forehead to the table with a thump.

“Rough morning?” I ask, patting the back of her head.

Lifting it, she looks at me with an exasperated expression. “Is it too late to run away and join the circus?” Her head drops on the table again.

“Yeah. I think that train has left the station already.” I feel her question on so many levels. It may be the circus I want to run away and join, but the thought of running far away from everyone and everything has enormous appeal. I give her arm an encouraging squeeze before glancing up to see Kyle taking a seat next to me. “On second thought, let’s go.”

“Where’re we goin’?” Kyle asks, taking a generous swallow from my coffee, which ticks me off. He doesn’t have to buy me coffee—he’s not a Good Samaritan, after all—but he could at least not guzzle down my much-needed caffeine.

“Nowhere,” I say, grabbing the cup from him only to realize he’d finished it off.

Willow lifts her head, glaring at Kyle as she slides her books in front of her. Flipping the top book open without a word, her glower speaks louder than her words probably could.

“Are you coming to the Dome tonight?” Kyle asks, his voice so smooth I almost forget he’s drank my liquid fuel. I still need to get through the day, and I don’t want to think about the night just yet.

“Probably not. I have a lot to catch up on.”

“It’s the second day of school. How much could you possibly have to do?”

Andrew walks up, taking a seat next to Kyle. As usual, Kyle turns to him immediately, talking about their plan for the night before they both stand up from the table.

“Later, babe. I’ll catch you tonight after my victory spin,” Kyle says, bending down to kiss my cheek as I stare at him.

Does he even hear a word I say?

“Do you think he’d notice if I blew up his precious Corvette?”

“Yeah. That’s probably the only thing you could do to get his attention. Or maybe show interest in a certain someone.” The smile in her voice is clear before I glance to see the matching expression on her face.

“I’ll pass, but I think the ZR1 would get his attention faster.”

“I think that car is the only thing that annoys me more than he does. I guess it’s the fact that they are so intertwined. You know, since he has to brag about winning every single race at the Dome.” Willow dramatically rolls her eyes, and I already know the next words out of her mouth because they’ve left Kyle’s about a million times.

“‘No one can defeat the Beast.’” I mock Kyle’s arrogant tone as Willow chuckles. While excruciatingly annoying, Kyle was right. No one has been able to defeat him and his beloved ZR1. Night after night, many have tried and failed. Yet, drivers continue to gather at the Dome, challenging him, which always results in another victory for Kyle to obsessively brag about.

“So, are you gonna hang out with us tonight? And by us, I mean Parker and I, not Kyle. He’ll be busy driving, so it should be fun.”

“I don’t know,” I say, picturing one of the last times I was there. I’d always enjoyed going to the Dome, watching the drivers race on the abandoned landing strip that the local college crowd had turned into a drag racing spot. It was all fun and games, just a way to blow off steam and gamble, drink and have a good time, until one night a race ended in tragedy. At first, I’d thought it was Kyle or Parker who had lost control and flipped, unable to tell who a panicked Willow was talking about when she arrived at our place. The races had ended, so I’d gone home, but a few stayed afterwards and ended up racing again. Only, it wasn’t Parker or Kyle but their opponent who’d worked his way through all the other challengers that night to make it to the final race.

The races stopped for a few weeks, even Andrew told Kyle to cool it because of what had happened, but it didn’t take long for the crowd to return and the king to reclaim his tarnished crown—I’d held my breath the entire race.

“Come on, Sadie. It’s boring without you there. Parker is always making the rounds in the crowd instead of hangin’ out with me.” Willow gives me her notorious puppy-dog-eyes pout that she knows I can’t resist.

“Why do you go then?”