Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
SERIOUS
Adrienne
Two weeks later…
Today is a big day.
Today is one of the first races I will need to place in to show my dad I’m worthy of the DHR mantle. And I’m nervous. Never before have I worried that maybe I can’t do it, but what if I can’t? What if I fall short? What if I don’t deserve it?
Short and simple, I’m off my game. And a big part of that has to do with Gabriel Navarro. I would love to get the hell away from him, but every time I try, I get pulled back in. When I ask, I’m flat-out denied.
I’ve spent the last week trying fruitlessly to put some space between us, because when he’s close, he makes my panties wet.
Honestly, I can’t handle the distraction. And while he hasn’t touched me again, he’s stayed no less than a hairsbreadth away. It’s… unnerving.
I can’t tell if his stoic professionalism is for my peace of mind, or his, but he’s still always right there and it’s driving me bananas.
My sanity is slipping through my fingers at an alarming rate.
Pretty soon, I’ll be one of those old women who rock in a corner while chewing their hair and talking about the good old days.
I hope my funny farm has the good drugs. If I’m going to lose my family legacy because I have a vagina and some good looking, arrogant sex-on-two-legs bodyguard scrambles my brains so I can’t think straight, then I want to have the fancy, name brand sedatives.
As it is, my usual state on race day is like a fractured fairy tale. Instead of well rested and chipper, like Snow White, I’m sluggish and scrambling.
When my alarm sounded this morning, I felt like I’d barely slept. I showered, combed and braided my hair, brushed my teeth, and put on my warm-ups.
My car was loaded into the trailer and driven up to Los Angeles last night, but Gabe will be driving me up first thing this morning.
I slip my feet into sneakers and meet him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“No, thank you.”
“Do you need breakfast before we hit the road?”
“No,” I answer quietly. “I’m fine. Ready when you are.”
“Then let’s hit it.”
I follow him out and while he locks up the house, I try not to notice how little droplets of water leftover from his shower still cling to the ends of his dark hair. Or the way his T-shirt clings to his shoulders when he turns away from me to lock the door.
Noticing things about Gabe has proven to be bad for my health, but if I don’t watch it, I just might develop a heart condition.
The kind where I stupidly give mine away to an emotionally unavailable man and he wrecks it on his way out the door.
Unfortunately, it’s probably after he wrecked my bed with that massive dick of his and I was fucked too stupid to see the error of my ways.
I climb into the passenger seat and buckle my belt while Gabe prowls around the hood of his SUV and climbs into the driver seat.
I pull my phone and earbuds from my jacket pocket and pop them into my ears.
I know wireless is all the rage, but I’m old school.
I pull up my race day playlist, and right now, it does little to soothe my frayed emotional edges.
Not to mention, it feels like I’ve been waiting weeks for the other shoe to drop.
There has been no news from my stalker—at least not to my knowledge.
Not that I’ve known about him for months like everyone else.
It’s probably all talk, right? Nothing is going to happen to me, and Gabe can be on his merry way.
He didn’t want to be on this assignment anyway, so he’ll be happy to go back to wherever he came from and back to whatever woman made him emotionally unavailable in the first place. I wonder how deep those issues go and if it was his mother or some lover who spurned him.
I just need to get back to my life. To focus, to train, and win races so I can take my place at DHR.
I need to do my job and make my family proud, even if it means I do it all alone.
It’s a tale as old as time: woman chooses her own career and then when she gets to the top, realizes there’s no one but her to give a shit.
I mean, I have my parents, they love me.
All right; my dad is making some highly suspect decisions lately. Like making me compete for the head of our family company because I’m not a man. Having a new baby.
Maybe his wife was right, and he’ll finally get the boy he’s always wanted.
Fuck, I have got to get out of my own head.
By the time we pull into the race venue, I’ve convinced myself there’s no real threat. That Gabe can move on. That he might actually thank me for the fact that he can finally go back home and get on with his life away from me. Problem solved, right?
I pull on the wire of my earbuds, and they pop out of my ears one by one.
I tuck them into their little case and shove it into my sweatshirt pocket with my phone.
I unbuckle my seat belt, and while I’m still in this semi-private little bubble with Gabe, I decide to take my opportunity to free him while I have the courage.
“Look,” I start with all the confidence I can muster. Arguably, it’s a pretty dismal amount for me but here we are anyway. “I know how much you hate this assignment—you know… protecting me.”
“I don’t hate it.”
“And I know I don’t make it easy on you.” I take a big breath and press on. “Nothing’s happened. I don’t think anything is going to happen. I’ll talk to my dad. You can go back to living your life… And I’ll go back to mine.”
“You wanna fire me, fresa?” he asks, his voice low.
“No,” I snap and then pull in another breath to try to calm myself, but it’s no use. “I know you’re unhappy, and it’s making me unhappy. Nothing is happening. Nothing is going to happen. I’m sure it was all just some crackpot hoax.”
“You’re sure?” he asks with a look on his face that says I’m a few fries short of a happy meal. And honestly, I am because he’s made me this way.
I nod. “I’m sure.”
“We’ll see,” he says ominously and then climbs out of the SUV.
That did not go how I planned, but I don’t have time to give it the headspace it requires. So instead, I smile and wave to the press as I walk inside.
I go to my assigned garage at the track and change into my fire suit and boots.
I go through the checklist with my pit crew. We have a game plan, and we need to work on that. That is the only path to victory.
I have a race to win.
And I do just that.
Champagne corks pop, and the sticky, fizzy mess flows over my head. I can’t help but laugh so hard that happiness fills my lungs and my joy overflows. I couldn’t force the smile off my face if I tried as I step up to the podium as the winner.
I won.
This is a big check in the column in my favor for the race to win Dark Horse Racing, and now that I’m standing here, I can admit to myself I’m scared.
I have never wanted anything more in my life than to take over my family’s legacy, and the idea of it slipping through my fingers because I’m not good enough has been keeping me awake at night. But I did it.
The checkered-flag blood of my dad and his dad before him flows through my veins.
I can do this.
I will do it.
Today is the best day of my life. I won a race that no woman has ever won before. I won a race that no other driver for DHR, aside from my dad, has ever won.
“I don’t like this,” Gabe murmurs from somewhere behind me.
I shrug and turn my smile toward him, because today is a really great day, and I still don’t think the threat is real. “I told you. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Gabe doesn’t look so sure. Actually, he looks pissed as hell.
I just stand here and bask in my moment. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve worked my whole life for it, and the smile that spreads across my face is huge and genuine.
The crowd cheers, chanting my name. Mine, not my dad’s. It’s an incredible feeling, and I close my eyes, tilt my face to the sun to let it all sink in, and say a silent thank you and an I miss you to my gramps who put us all on this path two generations ago.
Unfortunately, my moment of reverence is why I don’t feel the energy of the crowd change. I don’t notice something is wrong until the first bullet whizzes past my ear. My eyes snap open, and the next thing I know, I’m being tackled from behind.
“Fresa,” Gabe growls. “I thought we talked about not making yourself a target anymore.”
“Whoopsies.”
“Not another word,” he growls.
Maybe I do need to take all of those threats seriously after all.
Everything seems to happen all at once. Screams erupt from the crowd, and the crowd starts running. No one seems to know where the shots came from.
Manny and Eli come out of nowhere and jump off the stage, bleeding into the crowd. When I’m finally released from Gabe’s weight, I almost miss how it pressed me into the planks of the stage.
Once I’m on my feet though, he grabs my hand in his larger one, and we race off the stage. I have to run to keep up with him, and he shoves me into the back room of our garage, slamming the door. He continues moving through the small room, guiding me to the back of it.
“So there’s no threat, huh?” he snaps as he pushes me until my shoulders hit the metal shop wall.
“Well…”
“Well, what?” he practically growls.
“It appears I was uh… umm… wrong about that,” I stammer.
“No shit,” he bites out, and then he leans into me.
I think he’s going to kiss me, but then the door slams open, and Gabe and I jump apart as Manny walks in.
“It’s all clear,” he says. “There’s no sign of the shooter.”
“Weapon?” Gabe fires back.
“Gone,” Manny responds.
“Fuck!”
“That about sums it up,” Manny agrees. “The cops want a word.”