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“Well, I can take care of myself so you don’t need to worry about it.” I didn’t wait for a reply as I spun away and headed up to my apartment. Once I was alone I processed the new information I just learned. Brando was Mack’s brother, and according to Drew, Mack could be headed for serious trouble.
****
I used my hands to shield my eyes from the glare of the lamppost lighting that lined the walkway of the ferry dock. Mack sent me a text this morning asking me to take the nine o’clock ferry to the mainland tonight, and he would meet me there. The only good thing about hiring Carina was that now I could have more days off from the restaurant. Having more freedom was worth enduring her annoying mouth, although I did my best not to work with her whenever the schedule would allow. But I had to hand it to her, she didn’t let anyone push her around. She always stood up to me, even at times when other girls would have thrown down their tray and gone running from the restaurant in tears—something that may have happened a time or two. As much as I hated to admit it, I respected Carina’s spirit. That didn’t mean that I had to like her.
I scanned the area, not sure where Mack would be waiting. I felt him before I saw him as he stepped under the glow of the lamp across the street. I tugged my overnight bag up higher onto my shoulder and walked straight to him.
“Hi,” I said when I was just a few feet away.
“Hi,” Mack replied and wrapped an arm around my waist to draw me close. After placing a kiss to the side of my neck, he guided me by the small of my back to his red Mustang. When we got to the car he went right to the driver’s side where he sat down, reached over and unlocked the passenger door, then cranked on the car. Most men would have opened the door for me, but clearly, a gentleman, Mack King was not. Oddly, it didn’t bother me. Travis was a courteous as they came, and look how that turned out. I buckled my seat belt just in time to clutch the door handle as he roared off into the night.
“Where are we headed?” I asked once he reached an even speed and my heart stopped racing.
“Got to take care of something real quick then we’ll go to my place.”
“Oh.” I nodded, not at all thrilled with the idea of driving to Charleston tonight, but I guess I didn’t think things all the way through when I hopped on the ferry.
“What do you have to take care of?” I chanced asking, hoping that he might tell me.
“There’s this car I’ve been hearing about, and I want to check it out.”
“Cool,” I said as I let my body relax into the seat, feeling relieved that it wasn’t something worse. While street racing was illegal and dangerous, checking out a car was low on the list of trouble we could get into.
The hand Mack used to move the shifter caught my attention. I noticed his knuckles were an angry-looking red and a little bruised.
“Mack? What happened to your hand?” I gasped and reached out to grab his wrist. When he quickly moved his hand away from view I shifted my gaze to his face.
“It’s nothing, Jonna.”
“But—” I started to reply.
“Nothing. Leave it,” he snapped.
I studied the way he kept his eyes straight ahead as his jaw ticked, and that’s when I realized that his injuries were probably the result of someone getting “handled” by him. I reluctantly swallowed down the lump of questions, while my mind raced over what could have happen to turn Mack King into this type of person, and I could tell just in the short time I’d been with him that it wasn’t the life he’d planned either.
We remained silent the rest of the way through the town of Key City. Mack seemed to know the area pretty well, even though he lived two hours away in Charleston. We turned down a dark street, and I caught the faint flash of a car’s front reflector hidden in the
trees just off the road. Mack slowed, nodded once to the car, and then continued on. We drove another quarter mile before two cars parked on the side of the empty road came into view. He stopped a few car lengths away and got out. He didn’t ask me to stay in the car, but the expectation was implied. So I waited while two guys talked to Mack as he circled a blue older model muscle car as if he were inspecting it. The men spent some time looking under the hood, Mack asking questions and nodding. It was dark out, and the area was only illuminated by the headlights of the blue car, so it was hard to tell if I’d seen those guys before at The Spot. However, it was obvious that this guy wanted to get on Mack’s list.
After about ten minutes of conversation, Mack came and told me that they were going to race, so he could see how the guy handled his car. Shortly after that I was standing in front of both cars holding up a flashlight. I was ready to burst out of my skin from the excitement of Mack racing on my command. There was an incredible sense of power at the moment. The way his dark and intense eyes were focused on me as if I was the only thing that existed for him. For a racer, waiting for that light was everything, starting too late or too soon led to defeat.
I licked my bottom lip, then turned, just as I’d seen Jungle Jim do a million times, took four steps, then spun around, and clicked on the light. Both cars took off so fast and loud that I put my hands to my ears to shield them from the noise. I turned to see the taillights of both cars in the distance. It was hard to tell from where I was standing who won, but I was pretty confident that Mack was the winner.
Both drivers made a U-turn and drove back. I’d gotten out of the way and went to stand by Mack’s car. All three men gathered together. Mack shook hands with the driver of the blue car and nodded his head before he went back to his own car. When we were both inside, he turned on the GT’s headlights and my heart stopped when I saw Blake’s face illuminated by the bright light as he stood next to Nitro. The glare he gave me was stern and disapproving, so I averted my eyes. Drew was going to find out for sure now.
Shit.
Chapter Eleven
Mack didn’t drive us to his house in Charleston. Instead, he drove to a house in Key City. He just didn’t seem like the kind of guy to have two houses, especially a two-story house with white siding and big windows. I could see the sparkling of water under the moonlight behind the house and a large detached garage off to the side.
“This is your house, Mack?” I asked in disbelief. He looked at me and then back at the house while nodding.
“Yeah, what’s so unbelievable about it?”
“It’s just, I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t expecting it is all.” It definitely didn’t look like the house of someone who was labeled a criminal. It looked like a home where you would have backyard barbecues and pumpkins on the front steps in the fall, a place for a family. “It’s beautiful. The only thing missing is a red door,” I said whimsically as my head filled with images of my own dream house and how it looked a lot like this place.
“You think it needs a red front door?” Mack asked and I nodded. He eyed me thoughtfully before getting out of the car, and I followed him along the path to the house. He unlocked the door and flicked on the light. I was just as impressed with the inside as I was with the outside. It was a far cry from the disgusting way his place was kept in Charleston.
