Page 57 of Burnout
“Knox,” I say, voice barely above a whisper, when he balls his hands into fists at his side. Everyone is watching now. Knox could kill this guy in a fight. It wouldn’t even be close.
Brooklyn emerges from the crowd and rests a hand on his arm. He flinches and then focuses his attention like he wasn’t aware of anyone else around. She flicks her head toward me, and Knox turns on his heel. He gets on the motorcycle and starts it, pulling away before the guy gets to his feet.
TWENTY
Avery’s handsdig into my sides as I take a turn too fast. Fuck. I let off the gas and drop my speed as I return to town. My anger has turned to frustration by the time I pull into the empty restaurant parking lot and park next to her Bronco.
I kill the engine, but neither of us moves.
“I’m sorry,” I say without looking at her.
I miss the heat of her body behind me when she climbs off and stands next to the bike.
She flips the visor up and the fear or trepidation I expected to see in her eyes isn’t there. “Why are you apologizing? That guy was an asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have taken you there.” I don’t know what I was thinking. She doesn’t belong at some rundown track. We’re from two different worlds. If she didn’t see that before, she definitely does now.
“I’m fine.” She removes the helmet and sets it on the back of my motorcycle. Her blonde hair is messy, and her pink dress has ridden up high on her thighs. How many tight, pink dresses does this chick own? I hope a lot. She looks fucking perfect.
My gaze drops to her lips as she says, “Seriously, Knox. I’m fine. But how are you?”
“You’re worried about me, princess?” I smile at the concern in her eyes. That was just a slice of everyday life for me. It’s cute that she thinks I was ever in danger. I’ve known Justin since we were kids. He’s harmless. An asshole, no doubt, but I’ve never seen him throw a punch. He’s taken quite a few though.
“That guy was saying some pretty shitty things to you.”
“He’s just pissed because his racing career never went anywhere.” Failure makes people bitter. I’ve seen it in others, and I’ve felt it in myself at times. I shouldn’t have let Justin’s words get to me. I knew he was provoking me for a reaction, but I don’t understand what he was trying to prove. That I’m hotheaded? That I can’t control myself? I don’t know for sure, but I fed right into it.
“I didn’t know that you lost your team.” Avery moves closer so that her leg brushes against mine, and her hand comes up and rests on the front of my jacket. “I’m sorry.”
Amusement makes one side of my mouth pull up. “And what do you have to apologize for?”
“Nothing. I’m just sorry. What happened?”
“I got into it with a teammate after he crashed into me at the championships. I shoved him in front of the media. The league doesn’t take too kindly to violence between riders and the team owners made a choice between him or me.”
I expect her to look at me differently, but she doesn’t.
“What did he do?”
My brows knit in confusion.
“He had to have done something to make you shove him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I just watched a guy goad you, basically begging you to hit him, and you didn’t.”
I think it’s the first time someone has assumed it wasn’t my temper that caused the whole thing and I’m taken aback that she’s so quick to trust me.
“Link didn’t do anything. I mean, yeah, he said some shit and crashed into me, but I shouldn’t have put my hands on him. It’s what he wanted.”
“They why did you?”
I work my jaw back and forth. “It was my mom’s birthday. She died ten years ago. She would have been fifty. I wanted to win for her. Instead, I fucked everything up.”
“You made a mistake on a really bad day. That’s all.”
A mistake that cost me everything.
