Chapter 36 – VALENTINA
Thirty-Six
VALENTINA
“Stay with me tonight,” I say, more desperate than I mean to. But I don’t care. Because right now I almost—almost—want to forget Dominic, forget the race, and just let Maksim fuck me until I can’t remember my own name…or why I ever cared about coming here in the first place.
But too much is riding on tonight.
Race first. Get ruined by massive Russian dick later.
He nods, presses his thumb against my lip again, and I bite down, just enough to feel him tense.
“Meet me at the finish line?” I say with a laugh.
Maksim pulls me close and presses his forehead to mine. I breathe him in, sinking into his arms. This is the Maksim Belov that few people ever see. Soft, unguarded, maybe even open to…love.
The word hits like that rush behind the wheel, when the world feels like it’s mine.
And he is. He’s always been mine.
“I’ll be there. I just need you in one piece. Promise me that, beautiful. Otherwise, I’ll never win your dad over if he finds out I let his daughter wreck out here and didn’t lift a damn finger to stop her.”
“He’ll know you wouldn’t have been able to even if you tried.” I loop my arms around his neck, and my feet leave the ground as he straightens, his hands cupping my ass cheeks.
“Really?” he chuckles, calling my bluff.
“Really,” I murmur against his lips before kissing him. He squeezes harder, and for a second, I forget why I’m even here again. “Fuck.”
The music suddenly cuts out like someone flipped a switch, and a cold voice slices through the night air.
“Line up!”
It’s the ice bucket I need to get my mind back in the game. Heads snap toward the front where a tall guy stands under a streetlamp, his hand raised, and a finger pointed at the cracked pavement.
“I’ll see you in a few.”
Maksim offers a tight nod and sets me down just as Remi reaches us.
“Ivy’s waiting for you at the line,” she says, tossing me my keys.
“Keep an eye on him, Rem.”
With a mock eye roll, she hauls me in for a hug and a quick pep talk. “Listen, keep your head clear, eyes sharp, and don’t let his bullshit get under your skin. You’ve got this. But don’t be afraid to bail if shit doesn’t feel right. You come first, okay?”
I hear what she’s saying, but I can’t lose my car. Especially to that prick.
“I know. I will,” I lie to appease her, but Remi knows me and sees right through that hollow promise.
A low growl of an engine pulls my attention, and Dominic’s black Hellcat Redeye eases to a stop beside my car.
Of course it’s him.
His shit-eating grin shows off a gold tooth when he tilts his body across the middle console as I open my door.
“Valentina Cain—I thought I was seeing things,” he says. “Heard you dumped your bike a few weeks back. Got banged up.” His gaze drags down to my leg, slow and sleazy. “That why you’ve been hiding?”
I lean against my door, unbothered and uninterested in anything he has to say.
“You sound like you missed me. Or maybe you just miss that twenty grand I took off you last time.”
His smile cracks, tongue running across his teeth.
“My girl’s gonna love that car of yours. Already booked her for a new paint job. Gonna give her some fresh skin.”
Over my dead fucking body.
“Says the asshole who’s 0 for 3.”
I slide into my car, shutting down the comeback hanging on his lips. My eyes flick to Maksim across the lot. His arms are crossed, and he’s staring my way even though he can’t see through my tint. Remi’s talking, but I know he’s not listening. That hard stare tells me she pointed out Balterra.
No time to dwell on either of them.
A red flare streaks across my peripheral, joining the row of headlights cutting through the darkness. I shift into gear, and the street goes quiet except for the hum of motors.
This is it.
“You’ve got this,” I whisper.
I settle in, draw a deep breath, and let the sounds hit me. Engines rev all around me, rattling through my ribs until my pulse matches their rhythm. The air tastes like gasoline and melted rubber. And that familiar tingle of euphoria begins to crawl up my spine. I’ve waited weeks for this.
The starter’s arm drops, and the street explodes.
I slam the gas, and Poison Ivy launches. My tires scream, and smoke curls behind me as the other cars push and claw for the lead. A black Charger presses close on the left, a silver Skyline on the right, their engines shake my focus. But I keep my eyes forward and shift.
“Not today, Artie.”
The Skyline noses ahead for just a breath, but I swing wide on the first bend, my tires biting into the pavement. I cut in tight, stealing the inside and forcing him to ease off or risk taking paint off his bumper. The move bumps me into third, a Camaro and Balterra’s Hellcat still ahead.
“Fuck you and your girl, Balterra.”
His taillights flash, and his exhaust spits fire as he guns it down the straight. I match him, though, feeling Ivy’s power beneath me. I take the Camaro on the next curve, slipping in low, my front end inches from his quarter panel before I punch past him.
“Eat my fucking dust,” I say with a laugh, but quickly recover. “Head back in the game, Val.”
Because now it’s just me and that son of a bitch, Balterra.
We blow through the first lap. The city lights blur past us in a smear of gold and white. My focus narrows to the road and the space between us. He’s pushing hard, but I can tell he’s guarding his line, keeping me from the inside. That’s fine. Fucker can’t block me forever.
Just gotta get him vulnerable. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I’ll have my name back…just to forget it again while Maksim gives me a proper winner’s reward, face buried in the sheets and folded over the edge of his bed.
My mind starts to drift, but the fantasy doesn’t last.
The second lap chews at my leg. A dull reminder that maybe I might have benefited from another week in a cast and some physical therapy. But there’s no time for regrets. I shift my weight, ignore it, and press harder.
A silver RX-7 creeps up in my mirror, trying to catch me while my thoughts are in disarray. I drop a gear and surge forward, leaving him behind before he gets the chance. Every nerve is on fire, every movement deliberate. I have to overtake Balterra.
He can’t win.
“Come on. I got this. Maksim is waiting.” Losing my car and my dignity in one night is too much of a gut punch.
Cursing behind clenched teeth, I take a sweeping right, letting the car drift just enough to keep momentum. Balterra’s close enough that I can see the faint reflection of my headlights on his rear bumper. I wait for him to slip, to take a turn too hot, but he’s disciplined.
“Fuck!”
The next stretch is my chance. My last one.
I pull up alongside him, and he glances at me through his open window and smiles.
Something in my chest tightens.
The road ahead curves into a blind, sharp left. I know this corner. I’ve taken it a hundred times. I start to brake…
Impact.
The Hellcat slams into my side, hard enough that the seatbelt bites into my shoulder. My wheel jerks, and my tires shriek as they lose grip. The back end whips out, spinning me sideways.
“No!” I fight it, steering into the slide, but the force is too much, and Ivy spins, the world breaking apart into streaks of headlights and shadows.
Metal kisses concrete with a sickening crunch as I slide. My teeth rattle, my leg screams, and the engine chokes before going silent. Through the spiderwebbed windshield, Balterra’s taillights glow red as they vanish into the dark.
Heat floods my face, and tears burn hot, spilling over before I can stop them.
“That goddamn son of a bitch!” I slam my fist into the wheel until my knuckles split, chest heaving with rage and humiliation. “This isn’t happening.”
I swallow the taste of blood in my mouth and punch the wheel one more time for good measure. Pain radiates up my arm, but I’m too pissed to care. And maybe, in some way, it serves as punishment for letting my guard down.
But this isn’t over.