Chapter 34 – MAKSIM
Thirty-Four
MAKSIM
“What the fuck are you doing? You removed your cast?”
“I did. It comes off in just one more week. What’s the harm?”
I grip the steering wheel and exhale a sharp breath.
“What if you’re not fully healed yet? Why would you do this? And why would you just take off without saying anything? You knew I was stopping by.”
“Maksim, I have somewhere to be.”
“Where the fuck do you need to be that you cut off your goddamn cast, Valentina?”
She’s silent for several aggravating seconds.
“I’ll call you when I get back, I promise. Go home, Maksim.”
“Fuck that.”
She accelerates.
“Valentina, pull over.”
The line goes dead.
“Fucking hell.”
I toss the phone in the passenger seat and grip the wheel, flooring it through the intersection, weaving between cars with eyes locked on the taillight of her bike.
She squeezes through a narrow gap between a van and a Civic, brushing inches from metal, and I curse under my breath, my knuckles white on the wheel.
“Kolibri, you’re going to kill me.”
She doesn’t know what it does to me, seeing her like this. The wind snapping her ponytail, that helmet turning just enough that I know she knows I’m still behind her. I punch the gas again and whip a turn to follow her through a side street, my tires screeching as I keep her in sight.
But fuck me, watching her ride like that, her body tight against the frame, expertly leaning into every curve, and streaking through the dark highway like a bolt of lightning. It’s filthy, insane…And it’s hot as fuck.
Not that I should be surprised. She loved Kai’s bike. He used to take her for short rides around the property when she was a kid. I can only imagine things progressed from there as she grew.
Wrought iron gates slide open, and I follow close. At the end is a wide steel building, with a tall metal door closed up tight.
I kill the engine, throw my door open, and slam it shut.
She’s just getting off the bike when I storm toward her. I don’t know if I want to yell, kiss her, or bend her over that seat and redden her ass so she never pulls this kind of shit again.
“Explain yourself.”
Valentina’s helmet swings from a handlebar as she shakes out her hair and grins. Those dimples are not getting her out of this. Not tonight.
I fist the front of her jacket and drag her against me. “You could’ve fucking killed yourself.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice softens, the amusement fading when she hears what’s underneath. How close I am to damn near losing my mind.
“This is your first time on a bike since the accident, and you go full out?”
“I’ve been riding for a long time, Maksim. I know what I’m doing.”
She presses her palm to my chest, and I know she feels the chaos behind it. Her gaze lifts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
I cut her off with my mouth. Hard and desperate. All teeth and frustration. She gasps, and I take it, kissing her deeper and pinning her to the side of the bike. One hand grips her hip, the other threads into her hair.
“You scare the fuck out of me, you know that?” I mutter against her lips. “One more second, and I would’ve torn the city apart looking for you.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt. “I’m right here.”
“Damn right you are.”
She smiles and presses a kiss to my lips and looks around. “I should’ve told you sooner.”
“What? What is this place? And why the fuck did you do that?” My eyes drop to her leg, then back up to her face, checking for any signs she’s hiding pain.
“This wasn’t how I wanted it to go down. But things got messy fast. And if I’m not here tonight…” She trails off. “It’s just been too long.”
“Too long for what?”
Before she can answer, my attention snaps to a loud mechanical grind.
The metal door starts to rise, and behind it, fluorescent lights flicker to life over a massive garage, where rows of machines of sleek, low-slung beasts line wall to wall, chrome glinting under the lights.
Imports, customs, muscle. A goddamn fleet.
Valentina’s eyes sparkle with pride as they find mine again, and she takes a step back, motioning for me to follow. It’s then that I take notice of another bike, parked just feet from hers.
Remi.
“All this is yours?”
She nods. “Mine and Remi’s. We race these babies.”
I catch her wrist. “As in street racing? The illegal kind?”
She arches a brow. “I mean, if you’re suddenly having a moral crisis, we also race on the speedway across town once in a blue moon.”
“Valentina.”
She steps in closer, eyes on mine. “Yes. The illegal kind. The kind where we risk everything, drive like hell, and sometimes walk away with a shit-ton of cash. A lot of times.”
“You don’t need the money.”
She scoffs. “It’s not about the money, Maksim. It’s the thrill. Feeling the car come alive under you. Taming the beast, as they say. And owning the road. It’s—everything.”
She’s chewing on the corner of her lip, eyes roving my face like she’s waiting for me to lose it.
But all I can think about is her on that bike, moving between cars like she was born to ride. This garage, the machines, the fire in her eyes, and the reverence in her voice. It all clicks.
It’s so fucking her.
And I suddenly want to drag back to my car…but not to go home.
“No more surprises, Kolibri,” I say, tipping her chin.
She smirks. “Can’t promise that. Maybe I’m full of surprises, Maxy. The fun kind.”
I trail my mouth along the curve of her neck, breathing her in. “If you’ve got somewhere important to be tonight, don’t tempt me.”
“I promise to make it up to you later,” she says, giving me a quick kiss before tugging me toward the garage.
“You finally brought Maksim.” Remi is leaning against a black Demon 170, an energy drink in one hand. The grin on her face lets me know she’s been here the whole time.
“I sort of crashed her little secret,” I say, eyeing the inventory.
Remi pops the tab open with a hiss. “You crashing shit? That tracks.”
“Funny.”
Valentina laughs and steals her cousin’s drink, taking a long sip before handing it back and moving toward the end of the front row. Her fingers glide over the hood of a green Supra.
“I wasn’t trying to keep a secret from you,” she admits. “It’s just…this is mine. Not my parents’. Not the family’s. But ours.” She glances past me at Remi, then back. “And maybe I wanted to show you in my own way. On my terms. When I knew you and I were something…just as special.”
I shake my head, smiling despite myself.
I don’t know what it is about this woman. What she’s done to me. She makes me feel things I’ve never felt. Makes me want to be more—dangerously more. Not better. Not softer.
Just more hers.
Whatever that means, and whatever it costs.
“This one’s yours?” I ask, motioning to the car that’s grabbed her attention. Chrome letters spell out Poison Ivy across the side, purple accents catching the light. A pair of stamped lips sits beside it, with a grinning skull and crossbones nestled in the center.
“That’s my baby,” she whispers with pride.
“You have quite the collection here. And this is your favorite?”
She walks her fingers along the hood. “You don’t need a supercar to win a street race, Maxy.
Raw power means nothing without control.
And custom control is everything. You just need a machine that listens when you talk to it.
And one that surprises every poor bastard who thinks he’s got you figured out. ”
She tips her chin toward Remi, still leaning on her Demon. “That’s where she comes in. Remi can take just about anything and turn it into a goddamn monster. Give her a wrench, a shitbox, and a few hours, and you’ll have a car that eats pavement.”
I glance over at Remi, who raises her can in a silent salute, smug as all hell.
Val steps in close again. “This one’s got my name on it. But she runs and wins because of her.”
Again, the pieces fall into place. Kai loved working and tuning his bike, while a little Remi hovered nearby, wide-eyed, greasy fingers twitching with curiosity. The memory of her smashing his exhaust with a hammer, in her attempts at being just like him, makes a small laugh rise from my throat.
“So, this is what you wanted to share with me?” I rest against the hood of her car and pull her between my legs, arms around her waist. Always needing to touch her. “Are you racing tonight?”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
A deep sigh blows past her lips, and I don’t like the way her pretty smile sours with worry. “Kolibri,” I say, drawing her eyes back to me. “Tell me who I need to bury.”
She leans into my chest and smiles up at me. “Dominic Balterra.”
Sounds like a prick. A soon-to-be dead prick.
“He’s a cocky, misogynistic asshole. And we’ve been on his shit list because he doesn’t take losing to girls very well.”
I reach for my Glock. “Just point me in the right direction.”
Valentina’s hand falls on my weapon. “He absolutely deserves to get his ass handed to him, but the best revenge is humiliation.”
Not my MO. A problem needs to be dealt with the moment it arises. No second chances. But she has this strange power over me, and I decide I’ll appease her. For now.
“So what was so urgent you had to cut yourself out of a cast and ride here without me? He challenged you?”
“Not exactly.” She glances toward Remi across the garage. “He’s been calling me out for weeks. Put his car and cash on the line—and threw my name out there. So I caved. Figured it’d shut him up.”
“You let that asshole get to you? You couldn’t wait another week or two?”
She rolls her eyes and slips out of my hold. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been benched for weeks…missing races, forfeiting left and right. I’ve built something here, Maksim. I can’t just let it fall apart. Respect matters. If I backed out again, I’d lose that.”
I drag a hand down my jaw. I don’t agree, but I can feel how much this means to her.
“And if you race? What happens?”
“If I win, he shuts the fuck up, at least for a while. And I’m back on the track.”
“And if you lose?”
Her silence answers me, eyes drifting to her prized possession.
I push off the hood and close the distance again. “Your car, Valentina? That’s a big risk. What if you’re not fully healed?”
“I’m fine.”
“And if you’re not?”
She lifts her chin. “Maksim, I’ll win.”
“You don’t know that,” I growl. “Look, I can see how much this car means to you, and I’m trying to give a fuck, I really am. But all I can think about is you, wrecking, and that shit eats me up.”
Valentina grabs a fistful of my shirt and yanks me closer. “Why? You like me or something?” she teases, lip caught between her teeth, that crooked smile daring me to admit it.
I catch her jaw, not in the mood for jokes. “No, Ptichka. Because I fucking want you in ways that don’t go away if you crash and burn.”
Her breath stutters, and her smile slips. All I want to do is pin her against the hood and make her promise to stay the hell off that road.
But I know her. She’s as stubborn as she is beautiful, and that’s exactly what’s going to kill me someday.
“I’m not asking you to back down. I know better than to tell you what to do. But if you’re going to race, you do it smart. You don’t throw yourself at some dickhead’s ego with a half-healed body and a fucking death wish.”
She blinks, but she’s listening now.
“You gonna stop me?” she asks softly.
I lean in, lips at her ear. “No. But if you wreck, you’re mine to drag out and deal with. And I swear to God, Valentina...”
Fire flares behind her eyes again. But she doesn’t get it. Not really.
I clutch my shirt over my chest. I’d never forgive her if she left me with all of this.
And I don’t know what that would turn me into.
“How about you ride with me while we take her to stretch her legs. See if I still got it.”
She doesn’t wait, just rounds the car and tosses a set of keys to Remi before sliding into the driver’s seat. I glance at Remi, one brow raised.
She shrugs and winks. “See you at Furia.”