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“You’re my little sister, and we are the only direct links to our father. In a sense, Luna, we’re all that’s left of him, his legacy. And whatever it takes, we have to make him proud.”
ChapterFour
Devin
Iheard her come in around six in the morning. How did I know that? Because I hadn’t slept a fucking wink. All night I’d tossed and turned, checking my phone every hour to see if Luna had texted. I didn’t like how our fight—our first real blowout—had ended. But what I hated more was fucking Blake Carlton. I had a bone to pick with that asshole, but right now I had to find a way to clean up this mess with Luna. I’d deal with that jackass later.
She tiptoed around the room, and I realized she thought I was sleeping. Should I try to say something? But what? She’d seemed pretty pissed off last night. So instead, like the chickenshit I was, I did nothing and pretended to be asleep. With one eye cracked open, I watched her pad around the room, gathering up some clothes to wear, but not packing her things. That was a good sign.
She bent over to pick up some of my discarded clothes, and I couldn’t help but stare at her tight, firm ass. Her best damn feature, one of many. I banished that thought from my head. I needed to think about how I’d fix this, but I was so damned exhausted that I couldn’t think straight about anything.
Then she touched my arm and legitimately startled me. I jumped a little and discovered those large, chocolate-brown eyes peering down at me.
“Devin,” she said in a soft voice.
“What?” I responded in a harder voice than I’d intended. Damn, not a good start.
“It’s six thirty. Your note says you have to meet Erich.”
Right. I’d left that note for her because I thought she’d come back last night, and I knew she’d wake up long before I could ever drag myself out of bed. Maybe I was relying too much on her to be my alarm clock, since I hadn’t programmed an alarm on my phone. All I wanted right now was to pull her into my arms and tell her I’d fucked up. Instead, I muttered a thank-you, like the asshole I was.
She looked hurt and left without another word. I was beyond an idiot.
I took a quick shower and headed to the track. After the night I’d had, I’d rather be drawn and quartered than meet with Erich Riedl. He’d suddenly gotten into the habit of wanting to meet with me on race weekends. Team building, he claimed. That was a load of bullshit. His “team building” started around the same time I’d started dating Luna. Before that, the guy barely wanted to be in the same room with me.
I met him in the team motorhome, and he was his usual chipper self. I was certain he fed off my misery like a bloody vampire. I grabbed a coffee and a few biscotti and sat across from him. He stared at me, then my plate of biscotti. He shook his head as if to admonish me. He could shove his morning porridge up his ass.
“Good morning,” Erich said, his cheery voice grating on my last nerve.
I grunted a response that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Didn’t sleep well?”
“What are we meeting about, Riedl? And why so damn early?”
Riedl fixed his gaze on me, and I detected the beginning of a smirk, but he was trying to hold it back. “I was hoping to discuss race-day strategy with you, but it seems you’re not yourself. Trouble in paradise?”
Either he was extremely perceptive—bloody unlikely—or he’d been talking to someone. I didn’t think Luna would air our dirty laundry to him, so it had to be her brother. Or he had my room bugged. Oddly enough, any of the options were likely when it concerned Riedl.
“Fine, let’s talk racing strategy,” I said before he could psychoanalyze me.
“I knew it wouldn’t take you long to sabotage things. What did you do?”
“With our racing strategy?”
The smirk was in full-force now, but I wasn’t giving in. Eventually, he gave up and moved on tohisrace-day strategy to win. What else could I expect? My job was help position him to claim victory. It always had been.
Once that torture was done, I set out on a mission. I wasn’t going to storm over to the Roche pits and make a scene. That was exactly what Carlton wanted. Nope. I was going to ease my way over there, pretend I was having the best damn day of my life. I plastered a smile on my face andsauntered. Carlton and his mechanic were in a deep discussion, one I was about to break up. Casually, of course.
I was leaning up against the garage door, waiting for a few minutes before Carlton looked up and saw me. His eyes narrowed, and he excused himself with a pat on his mechanic’s shoulder. His face remained expressionless, as if he had no idea why I was there. What a performance.
“Should we play games, old man, or just get straight to the point?” I asked.
If my barb offended him, he didn’t let on. Instead, he smiled and motioned for me to follow him toward a row of small offices. So we were doing this, and if it ended up in a fistfight, so be it. I’d kick his ass because while I had no idea what Carlton’s angle was, there was no way he was going to interfere in my life with Luna.
We stepped into a cramped office full of papers and electronic equipment. Carlton sat in the lone chair, crossed his legs, and waited for me to speak. Suddenly, I had no idea where to begin. I had to remind myself that I was playing it cool for now. Punching him in the face didn’t seem like the right place to start, as much as I wanted to.
“Why are you talking to Luna about me?” Yes, that seemed like the right approach. Getting straight to the point without the use of my fists.
