His eyes squint for only a moment. Itisthe same. I know. Probably the most expensive thing he owns. And I’m about to take it from him.
“So vying for slips then?” he asks as he tugs Ashlyn in front of him. She wraps her hand around the back of his neck, her tits practically bouncing out of her low-cut top as she does.
“Yes.Onlythat. There’s nothing more that I want from you.” Except I’m not looking at him when I speak.
Ashlyn purses her lips as she narrows her eyes, a smug grin coating her face.I swear toBonakanosthat if she so much as parts her mouth to say a word? I’ll rip her throat out.
With the venom shooting from my eyes, she must realize how close she is to danger—and wisely keeps her mouth shut while Moretti and I agree to a designated finish line.
“Can I ride with you?” Hailey asks, her eyes big and needy.
“No.”
I’m already slipping back behind the wheel, hand reaching for the dashboard. Music detonates through the car until the bass rattles the WRX frame. Blaire’s silhouette, framed by the headlights, poses with the flags held high in the air. Nothing but adrenaline surges in my veins. The route’s muscle memory. I don’t need practice. Every turn is burned into me from nights spent carving them at full throttle.
The second Blaire’s arms drop, I launch forward, the engine roaring like it’s been caged for too long. Moretti’s headlights vanish in my rearview within seconds. By the first stretch, it’s not a race—it’s a slaughter.
I let the track play out, hand draped on the wheel, relaxed but never easing off the gas. The city streaks past in neon blurs until movement ahead sharpens my focus. We’re closing in on a busy intersection near the highway ramp.
A woman steps off the curb, shoving a stroller in front of her, like she’s walking into a death wish. I feather the brake, calculating the lull. I could let her cross, then gun it and still take the finish without breaking a sweat.
But Moretti… He’s not slowing. Not even thinking about it. At this speed, he’s going to paint the asphalt red.
Part of me whispers,let him.One less problem. Hell, he’d be locked away before morning. But there’s the other part. The one that sees what she’s pushing…and knows what’s inside.
I have a second and no more.
When Moretti surges forward into the kill zone, I slam the wheel hard to the right, the WRX screaming as I cut into his lane. My bumper clips his fender, shoving him wide before he reaches the crosswalk.
But the maneuver costs me. Traction gone, tires shrieking, the world blurs in a dizzying spin. The brick wall rises like it’s leaping toward me.
Impact.
Blackness.
“Welcometo the Crest of Thornhaven Estate, where young men and women learn to become leaders of their communities!”
“What if I don’t want to be a leader?” Some small girl, a lot younger than me, doesn’t raise her hand when asking. Just lobs the question into the air like a rock into still water.
I like that.
The camp counselor’s smile flattens eerily. “Well, your parents paid a lot of money for you to be here, so act like it.”
“Can I pay a lot of money to not act like it?”
A few of the girls around her gasp, but I can’t stop staring. She has a defiant tilt to her chin, with freckles scattered across her nose. Probably stolen from the sun. Looks like that red-headed Swedish cartoon kid, Pippi Longstocking, but blonde and meaner.
She keeps going, volleying back every comment until the counselors finally escort her out of the intro meeting.Definitely her first year here.
She’ll learn.
“That tastes like plastic. Would avoid,”I tell her when she’s in front of me in the mess hall line. Not sure why I spoke up. She hovers her hand over the mashed potatoes, then carefully sets the spoon back down and glances up at me before sliding her green tray to the French fries.
“Thanks.”
I grab more fries before she can reach them.
“Jerk! I was going to get those!”