Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
KANE
He looks furious. Fair. I would be too if the tables were turned and he was fucking my sister.
I untangle myself from the Klingon and meet Chris halfway. I have a few inches on him, which I bet he hates right now, and I use it to my full advantage as I smirk down at him.
“Holt—”
Gasps ripple around us when he shoves me back with a sneer.
Here we go. Life would be so much easier if I could just punch this guy, but he’s Jessica’s brother, and she cares about him—an inconvenience I can’t brush aside.
I hate playing nice. I even let him fist my shirt, because I’m fucking generous like that.
“Stay the hell away from my sister, Ravencourt.”
I tsk. “No can do, Holt.”
The sooner he realizes I’m not going anywhere, the better.
His frown deepens, gaze hardening. “What the fuck do you want with her, huh? You think I’m fucking stupid? You wanna play with her like that whore over there?” He jerks his head toward the girl I peeled off moments ago. “My sister isn’t a fucking toy for privileged assholes like you.”
Okay, that’s enough. I’m done playing nice.
I shove him back with enough force to make him stumble but not fall. I’m not interested in making things worse for myself. “You think I’ll let you come here and insult me, Holt? Don’t forget your fucking place.”
Behind him, Jackson charges, murder blazing in his eyes. “Motherfucker,” he growls. “Let me at him.”
Malice catches him by the arm, which is a damn shame if you ask me because I’d gladly take him on after seeing the photos of him and Jessica together at the bonfire by the cliffs the other night. He’s a little too invested in my girl.
I’m glaring daggers at him when Chris gets in my face.
“I’m not playing, Ravencourt. I don’t want you anywhere near my family.”
“I’m not playing either.”
I should win a prize for how calm and collected I sound when I’m anything but.
Chris sneers and squares up. “How about a race to settle this?”
I scoff. He’s joking, right?
Please tell me he’s joking.
“What have you got to lose besides your pride?” he asks.
Apparently, he’s not joking.
I start to walk away because this is ridiculous. Has he already forgotten how he ate my dust the last time we raced?
“Let’s settle this like men,” he calls after me.
I turn slowly.
Chris holds eye contact as he saunters closer. “If I win, you stay the hell away from my sister. You never see her again.”
“And if I win?”
A confident smirk crawls across his lips. “You won’t.”
He sounds so certain.
The crowd hangs on every breath as we size each other up. He lost to me the other week, and no matter how I look at it, I can’t figure him out. It takes guts to challenge me again after last time. The decent thing would be to say no and walk away. Spare his ego another humiliation.
But the urge to put him in his place sends something hot and electric buzzing beneath my skin. The challenge is too good to turn down. Why not let her brother learn the hard way that I’ll fight for his sister?
And come out on top every time.
“If I win, you stay out of my way. Jessica is mine.”
Uncertainty flickers through his gaze, but he locks it down and smooths his face into something hard and unreadable. “Deal. Let’s race.”
I lock eyes with Malice as Chris heads for his parked car. The bass from half a dozen sound systems drowns out shouted bets and trash talk. It’s a busy night. Perfect for a race.
Malice lifts his chin slightly, the left side of his mouth quirking. He’s enjoying every minute of this. The guy is probably sporting a boner.
I’ve yet to see him rattled by anything. From what I can tell, he’s the lazy cat among his group of friends.
Cash grabs my shoulder and steers me away from the girls. We weave through the crowd toward my car.
“Give him hell,” Cash says when I slide into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t need to tell me twice. No one is keeping me from Jessica.
Men like her brother race for money and pride. I have no need for either. I’m usually here for the thrill, but now I have something to lose for the first time.
Something to fight for.
And if he can’t see that a cause is a man’s sharpest weapon, then he’s a fool.
“See you on the other end.” Cash shuts my door. Claps the roof.
Chris waits for me at the start line as I roll up beside his Chevrolet Camaro.
His windows aren’t blacked out like mine, so I can see the fierce concentration on his face as he stares down the abandoned industrial strip ahead.
A train yard looms nearby, silent and haunted, its rusty steel tracks catching the light when cars tear past. Across the road, an old warehouse squats behind a chain-link fence.
Heat radiates off our engines in shimmering waves as we wait. Chris glances my way and revs his engine. He can’t see me through the tinted windows, but I know he’s trying to psyche me out. It won’t work.
Once I deliver his humiliating defeat, I’m going to find my little thief and claim my reward. And just to spite Chris, I’m going to fuck her extra hard tonight and leave her dripping with cum.
A leggy redhead in a gold string bikini top, leather hot pants, and over-the-knee black boots saunters up to take her spot.
I recognize her from the other week, when she climbed out of Cash’s Dodge Viper and wiped the corner of her lipstick-smeared mouth with her thumb. But that wasn’t the end of her.
The following morning, I left my bedroom to find Cash banging her against the staircase banister, still fully clothed, high off his fucking head. They’d stumbled in minutes earlier after partying all night. She was wearing the same stiletto boots then.
I sigh. My brother needs to get his shit together before something really bad happens. Fucking his way through half the town won’t silence his demons. It’ll only make them louder.
Ahead, the stretch of asphalt looks dark and empty, the start line scarred with skid marks.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been in this position, the engine growling like a vicious beast with every rev.
I have no doubt Chris could beat me one day, despite his old car.
He’s skilled enough. What he lacks is discipline.
But he won’t win today. He’s too emotional, and success requires a certain ruthlessness.
A cold detachment.
Bathed in headlights, the girl shakes her chest, her huge breasts wobbling like two jelly cakes.
Just get on with it. I don’t have all day to measure dicks with my girl’s brother.
The leather bites into my hand as I tighten my grip. Any second now, she’ll raise her hand or wave her lace panties in the air, just like the girl did earlier when Maverick raced.
The headlights flood her pale thighs as she lifts her hand above her head. My focus zeroes in on the darkness in the distance, the finish line. This moment, before her hand falls, is sacred. My heart kicks hard against my ribs, but I’m calm.
Calmer than I’ve ever been.
Everything fades away except the finish line. It’s just me, my car and the open road.
A beat later, her hand falls, and we shoot forward in an instant. The front end lifts a fraction before slamming back down. I upshift, and the car jerks forward, bullet-fast. Headlights stretch into lines as they slice through the darkness.
Chris keeps pace, bumper to bumper. He’s not giving me an inch, and I smile because I love a challenge. What’s the point of racing if I don’t have to fight for it? Fight for her.
“Come on. Show me what you’ve got,” I say, glancing sideways at his car.
We tear down the strip, engines roaring. Warehouses and abandoned train tracks blur past. He’s still beside me, inching forward.
Fuck no.
I slam the pedal down and shift into the next gear, the sharp acceleration sucking me into the seat. Chris falls back, but not far enough. There’s no time to relax yet. These races are over in seconds, but from behind the wheel, it feels like an eternity.
Adrenaline spikes as a group of idiots from the crowd spills too close to the track, shoving each other for a better view.
What the fuck are they doing? One of them stumbles straight into the lane.
He’s wide-eyed and frozen, clutching a metal can that slips from his hand and clatters across the pavement.
“Shit!” There’s no time to think. I jerk the wheel left, swerving to avoid the idiot. The car skids, tires screeching as the tail swings out. The backend fishtails, coming dangerously close to the chain-link fence. It all happens too fast to process.
For a split second, the car snaps sideways and I’m weightless. My grip slips on the wheel as lights flash across the dashboard. Everyone knows it only takes one small thing.
One mistake and it’s game over.
Chris seizes the opening and shoots ahead, his horn blaring in triumph. I bite down a curse and wrestle the wheel back under control. It doesn’t matter what it takes. I can’t let him win this race.
The car finally catches traction with a violent jolt and I gun it.
“Come on, come on,” I chant, watching the speedometer climb.
The distance between us closes inch by brutal inch. My heart pounds in my ears.
The fishtail cost me seconds, but not the race. There’s still a chance. I can make this work. I just have to keep my head clear and my mind on the prize. Chris is ahead now, his taillights flaring in the dark.
I drop my foot again, the engine snarling as I ease into the center of the lane. The gap tightens, inch by inch, until I’m riding Chris’s wake.
“Come on, baby. You can do this.”
The car stops shuddering once I get right behind him, close enough to ride his air.
Too fucking close.
I ease off the gas. My front bumper is a whisper from the rear of his car. Any closer and I’ll scratch the paintwork.
Not fucking happening today.
Chris knows what I’m doing. He’s trying to figure out which side I’ll take.
I stay right on him to force him to commit too early.
Let him guess.
I wait. And wait.
Timing is everything in a race. Any second now, he’ll make a choice that’ll decide the outcome.
“Come on, buddy,” I taunt as the hood drives dangerously close to his rear end. “Make a move.”
The second Chris shifts to block the left lane, I swing right and wrench the wheel.
I floor it, and the car surges forward, slingshotting me out of the pocket in a burst of acceleration. It’s a damn rush.
The moment punches me into the seat as I fly past Chris. There’s no time to think, because the finish line is in sight.
I’m so close to winning this thing.
The street narrows into a single point of light, but I don’t let up. I don’t even blink.
A split second later, I take the win by half a car length as we rip across the finish line in a blur.
My friends and our sisters are waiting when I park and step out, greeting me with a chorus of cheers and rough pats on the back. Noah jostles me and tries to grind his knuckles into my scalp, but I shove him away before he can ruin my hair.
“He almost had you there for a second,” Maverick says with a wide grin.
Yeah, right.
I let out a short, derisive laugh. “He wasn’t even close to winning that race.”
I always had it in the bag, but Maverick’s answering chuckle suggests he thinks otherwise.
Across the lot, Chris parks and slams his door shut. His friends try to console him, but he ignores them, stalking over like a thundercloud. If I thought a race would settle things between us, I was wrong.
So what will?
By the look on his face, Chris has no intention of letting this go, but an agreement is an agreement. He can lick his wounds somewhere else.
“You stay the hell away from her,” he growls, slamming his hands into my chest. I stumble, and he knocks me again.
I fist my hands. “I won that race fair and square, Holt. You wanted to race for your sister, so we did.”
He gets in my face. “I don’t fucking care! You stay the hell away from her.”
“Or what?” I shove him back, and he crashes into his friends, but I don’t care. “What are you gonna do, huh? This is my town. You have no power here.”
“Kane,” Cash says in a warning tone behind me.
I’m not done. I’m nowhere near fucking done with this prick. He’s trying to get between Jessica and me, and I don’t care if he’s her family. No one comes between us.
“I bet I can pay you to back off. How much is your sister worth?”
“Kane!” Lily snaps.
I ignore her too.
“How much?” I press, squaring off against Chris. “Ten thousand? A hundred? A million? Tell me her price, and I’ll pay it.”
He gnashes his teeth. “You want to buy my sister? Is that what you’re saying?”
I raise a brow.
“She’s not for sale.”
“Everything has a price.”
He really doesn’t understand how the world works if he hasn’t figured that out yet.
His nostrils flare briefly, and he exhales a bitter little laugh, then steps away. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that, Ravencourt?”
“Tell me something new.”
He spins on his heels, striding off in a huff, but only makes it a few meters before turning around and walking backward. “This is far from over.”
Bring it, Chris. Give me your worst.
The left side of my mouth tips up as I watch him walk off. “She’s mine,” I call out, cupping my mouth so my voice carries over the crowd and the thumping bass.
Malice catches up with Chris, but Jackson stays behind, glaring daggers at me. Beside him, a blond guy I haven’t seen before tries to talk some sense into him.
Good luck with that, buddy. I don’t know what the fuck his problem is, but he looks like he wants my head on a stick.
“You’re a prick,” my sister says as I hold Jackson’s gaze. “That was the wrong way to go about it if you’re trying to score brownie points with her brother.”
Aurora—Maverick’s little sister—ushers her away. The blond guy beside Jackson watches her intently as they climb into the back of Maverick’s gunmetal McLaren P1.
When Jackson finally leaves, Blondie in tow, Cash comes up to me. “I’m inclined to agree with Lily.”
I let out a sound that isn’t quite a laugh.
“All I’m saying is that it wasn’t a good move.”
We agree there.
“He’ll hate you even more now that you’ve crucified his ego and antagonized him.”
“What was I supposed to do? Let him disrespect me?”
Cash follows me to my car. “Not offering to buy her would have been a good start.”
I open the driver’s door. “Look, he pissed me off. Was it a smart move? No, it wasn’t. Do I care? Also no.”
Noah calls out for Cash, who glances over his shoulder before turning his concerned eyes back to me.
I don’t know why he cares so much when he’s on a mission to fuck up his own life.
“He’s just protective of her, is all.”
I blow out a sharp, irritated breath. “I’m leaving. I’ve got a prize to collect.”
I duck into the car and settle in. Chris is going to be a problem. To him, I’m just another asshole lining up to hurt his sister, another mistake he’ll have to clean up after. And he’s not entirely wrong.