Page 74 of Fueled Hate

“I’m almost ready to head to work,” Sadie says as she exits the bathroom and walks over to her dresser, pulling the top drawer open. She digs around with her back to us while asking her friend, “Where’d you go last night?”

Willow gives me an anxious look as she responds, “I forgot something at Parker’s. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

“I’ll take her,” I say just as Willow turns to leave the room. She can’t escape fast enough because we both know she wasn’t at Parker’s.

Sadie turns looking at me with confusion, oblivious to the panicked state of her best friend. “Do you have Bryce’s car?”

“No.”

“Um. Okay.” She gives me a questioning look but continues getting dressed as I step into the bathroom.

On the other side of the door, I hear Willow’s hushed whispers, but I’m unable to make out what she’s saying. There’s no point in worrying. All will come to light eventually, even Willow’s secrets, whether she wants them to or not. Everything.

A few minutes later, I walk out of the bathroom. Willow avoids looking my way, hurrying out of the room.

“Ready?” I ask Sadie. She nods, walking out of the bedroom and then out of the apartment as I follow behind her.

Stopping on the edge of the pathway on the cement curb, she glances around the parking lot, not knowing where to head. I clasp her hand before leading her across the parking lot, stepping up to the passenger door, I pull it open for her. She looks at the car then back to me.

“Whose car is this? Is this yours?” An incredulous expression matching the one she’d had when she found out I paid Oliver back for her tuition crosses her face.

“It’s mine,” I respond as she does another once-over of the Lexus.

“My dad has loved the LFAs for years. He said the engine sounds better than any other car he’s ever gotten his hands on.” She examines the interior but doesn’t get in.

“Yes.” That and the limited availability are what hooked me.

“When did you … where …?” she asks in awe as she continues studying the car like it’s an enchanted stagecoach.

“I picked it up last night.” Confusion blankets her face, so I patiently explain. “I stashed away a few cars because I wasn’t sure which I was gonna race.”

“‘A few cars’? This one alone costs a freakin’ fortune.”

“Just get in.” I prod, waving to the car’s passenger seat, but she doesn’t make a move. “It’s just a car, Sadie.”

“How many ‘just a cars’ do you have?”

“Why does it matter?” Her fascination with the rare automobile, I can handle. Her viewing me differently is what I can’t.

“It doesn’t. But now I understand why you weren’t bothered about letting me drive the STI or losing it to Kyle last night. It was pocket change compared to your others.”

My teeth clench as she drops into the car and moves to pull the door closed. Grabbing the top of the door, I throw it back, stooping down next to where she sits. “I chose to race the STI because it was the car Noah and I built together. Every part carefully selected, every piece assembled with our four hands, every drop of paint sprayed on by us. We laughed, we fought, we bled, all while building that car, but we did it together. The car isn’t worth a ‘freakin’ fortune’ … it’s priceless.”

Her face softens as she lifts her hand, cupping my cheek against her palm. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”

Leaning forward, I tenderly kiss her, lingering for a few minutes before standing and carefully closing the door. Then I walk around the car and drop into the driver’s seat.

“Bryce says you shouldn’t get on the track again. Are you planning on it?” She waits then continues when I don’t respond. “I know it’s important to you. The car, the race, Noah … but please don’t race again. At least not until you’re thinking clearly.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.” Her voice is strained as she demands the same request I’d made last night. Except I was asking her to promise that she’d stay with me. She’s asking me to completely change the course I’ve been barreling down for months.

“I promise.” I mean the words as I say them, but I’m not certain that I can keep the promise. I’m not certain that she’ll keep hers either. We’re both on a path that we aren’t entirely in control of.

I steer out of the apartment’s parking lot, driving down the street. I reach over, placing my hand on her thigh until we turn into Big Tobe’s parking lot. “I’ll swing by to pick you up after work.”

“Yes. Then you can take me to get my car.”