Page 64 of All That Glitters
Fuck. No. That couldn’t be…
Helen. Her name whispered its way through my mind.
She felt like it, too. Home. She was familiar, yes, but touching her like I had, being intimate with her, kissing her… It might’ve always been Helen and I just hadn’t thought about it until now.
I couldn’t keep her. I wouldn’t have anything but memories of her when it was all over. I’d was going to well and truly fuck all this up. And I wasn’t going to fix it.
Everyone kept telling me the crash wasn’t Hale’s fault, but believing in fate wasn’t something I’d ever done. It wasn’t how I was raised. It wasn’t how I was taught to race. It wasn’t part of my make-up. Fate was a fairy tale. So, if it wasn’t Hale’s fault and it wasn’t mine, then whose fault was it? What caused my life to flash before my eyes as the impact with his car took the breath from my lungs? What caused the spin and made me so dizzy it was all I could do to keep from throwing up in my helmet? What caused the slamming of the car into the barrier at breakneck speed and lit up everything around me like a fireworks show?
What caused it if not Hale?
It’d been called a freak accident.
It’d been called just one of those things.
It’d been called unfortunate, but something that sometimes happens during races.
It’d been called everything under the sun, everything that absolved Hale of any wrongdoing…
So, if it wasn’t Hale’s fault… What the fuck happened? I needed someone to blame. I needed a focus for the anger and pain inside me. I needed a focus that would bring me back from the brink of madness.
And that’s what it felt like being scared of the one thing in my life that used to make sense. It felt like madness.
I hadn’t let myself give too much serious thought to not ever being able to drive again, to race again, but what the fuck was I supposed to do with my life if I couldn’t? What was I supposed to do with the days and nights, the hours and minutes and seconds if I couldn’t get behind the wheel of a race car again?
What was I supposed to do with the reality that I broke out in a cold sweat every time I thought about doing it and never again doing it?
What was I supposed to do with the reality that the only person that made me feel any kind of normal was the one I was using to hurt the man who’d taken everything from me, the woman who was currently cleaning my orgasm from her face?
Who had I become in the midst of all this? Who was I going to be when it was over?
“Ashton?”
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, then turned to face her when I was sure my mask was back in place. I don’t really know why I bothered.
She was put back together, on the outside, at least. Her mask from earlier was back in place, a little more solid if the look in her pretty eyes was any indication.
I hated that I did that. I hated it more than I thought I would. How was I supposed to keep this up if I hated the aftermath?
“I think I liked you better with cum running down your cheeks like creamy tears.”
“Do you need me for anything more?” she asked, not rising to take the bait. Or maybe she wasn’t lowering herself to take it. That was more likely it. My respect for her remained intact. She was stronger than I’d ever given her credit for. She was stronger than anyone I knew, even Hale. She had to be in order to defy him, lie to him. She had to be in order to deal with me, handle me, to agree to this situation that would destroy her heart in the end.
She had to be to walk away from racing as smoothly as she had…
And why did that keep crossing my mind? I’d asked her about it at dinner and she’d closed off.
“No. I don’t need you.” That was one of my many lies. I needed her for everything that remained in front of me. I needed her for whatever my future in racing held. I needed her to sate the raging monster that had taken up residence inside every single part of me.
She was the only one I trusted.
She was the only one I wanted.
She was the only one…
We stared at each other across the kitchen. It wasn’t a large room, but it was spacious enough. I could reach Helen in three steps. She stood stoic under my gaze, unblinking, unwavering, unafraid of who I’d become, but she wasn’t the same woman who’d gotten out of the Jeep a little while ago. She was paler than before and her eyes were colder, the line of her mouth was thinner.
I wanted to kiss some color back into her cheeks. I didn’t move. I didn’t reach for her.
