CHAPTER FIVE
HAWK
L ess than a week later I stood in a pile of wreckage that used to be our garage. Ryan stood beside me, already checking off a list of what was still usable. I surveyed the salvaged pile with a serene outlook—for the moment. My fists tightened inside my jean pockets as I rocked back on my heels. Managing the tight ball of fury writhing in my chest was a full time job, at least until one of my juniors who had the makings of a brilliant designer brought me his trashed designs, and the wall between sanity and rage opened.
“Who. The fuck. Did this.” I spat the words out between my teeth knowing not 0one of them were to blame but once I let my anger unspool I had no hope of reclaiming objectivity.
The thing was, I wasn’t pissed because of the break in. I was pissed because of the work Ryan and the team put in and how much time this setback would cost them. That was what upset me.
Ryan and the team had been the first ones into the garage early on. Usually, I made a point of getting into work as early as anyone else on the team. It sent a good message that I wasn’t only a diva—though I certainly had the right tendencies—but also that I was interested in the crew as a whole. Come those minutes on the track, I needed them to back me, and the relationship didn't work if I was only present part of the time.
“I’ll give you a guess, but you won’t need it.” Ryan ripped his cap off his head, shucked his hair back and slammed his cap back on.
“We got proof?” I ground my teeth.
Ryan poked me and I desisted. I’d been held up at the front of the building when I’d seen Sunny hosting a media fair for Benson, and couldn't help doing my damnedest to flirt with her, screw with that perfect facade for no other reason than because she was at her cutest when she was riled.
Then I walked into my workplace to discover tools thrown around in a haphazard mess that looked more like a junkyard sale than a professional garage. Branding and signage had been trashed and torn, tires slashed.
The lead up to the season when we were meant to be tweaking the things that could hand us a race was the best time to fuck with our head space. Instead of confirming what we had was secure for the day, we would be on the back foot, cleaning up and hoping we had what we needed.
“?Course not. He’d be stupid to leave anything that could be traced back to him.”
“But you’re sure it was Benson?”
“No doubt. Don't you fucking do anything. You stay here and help the boys clean up. I’ll go speak to him.” Ryan turned to face me, but I ignored him. The rage building in me felt damn fine, and I fully intended to let it burn. Maybe take a slice of the world with me.
“You remember how that played out last time?”
Ryan sighed. “Yeah. But if I don’t go, and you can’t,” he poked my shoulder, “then who will?”
I shrugged. “Get one of the boys to file a report with the police. Make it official. I’m sick of this petty schoolyard bullshit. Gimme your list.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to fucking well see what’s irreplaceable before I get into the car again, that’s why,” I snapped, and winced. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t aimed at you.”
Ryan nodded, handing me his clipboard. “On it. Don’t leave here.”
I didn’t answer him, already running the damage through my head. The car was untouched. That was probably what made Ryan so certain that it wasn’t theft or vandalism from an outsider. We’d suffered a few small items that had gone missing at odd times, enough to ensure we knew it was either one of my boys—it was probably stupid, but I refused to believe that—or it was another driver.
Competition was fierce but we all knew not to screw with another man’s garage. Benson had broken the code.
I held to my word to Ryan and stayed in my lane, marking out everything damaged or what I knew we should have but what I couldn't find. He emerged from the office an hour later, well after we had finished our adjusted inventory without touching anything.
“Police will be here soon. You’d better hang around for it. No hot lap for you until we clear this up, and then we’ll be on clean up. Maybe...go for a jog later, or get some sleep? You’re gonna need to get rid of that grudge you're festering.”
“Is it that obvious?” I gave him a weary grin. If it was Benson—no doubt in my mind, but I wouldn’t accuse him until I had proof— then he’d picked the perfect time.
“How long have we got?”
“?Bout half an hour until the cops turn up to dust for prints.”
“Fine. Let’s do the meeting now. No point wasting the time.”
Ryan nodded slowly, his mouth curving in a grin. “Damn, boy. They won't keep you down.”
I snorted. “Fuck, no. We’re here to win, aren’t we?” I refused to let Benson—or anyone else—ruin the work my team had put in to get us where we were. They deserved better than that, and I intended to give them back at least as much as they gave to me.
We finished the morning on a high. Not only did the cops turn up and do their job, they did it well enough to field a stack of prints. Every one of my boys offered to provide their own for comparison, though it wasn’t necessary in the end. Still, I was proud of them.
I thanked my team as we finished our clean up, patting a few backs and having a quiet word with each of them. Despite how the day had started, we weren’t going to let it get us down.
“Hawk. Got you a spot for a test lap in thirty. Too fast?” Ryan looked up at me, his eyebrows crinkled.
I was nowhere near ready, but I knew what sort of strings he had to pull to get me a spot after the schedules had been made up. A movement in my peripherals drew my attention. I watched Sunny out of the corner of my eye.
She’d hovered around the pits all day, alternating promo shot co-ords and worrying a stack of papers as though torn between wanting to help and not getting into trouble with her boss. Not that I’d been watching her, of course. The thought flitted through my brain and I banished it as fast as it had arrived.
If Benson was the cause of the damage then their racing champion was sabotaging other racers and he wouldn't want her anywhere near us, telling tales that might come back to haunt him.
Or to taint her.
I bared my teeth in a feral grin and pushed Sunny Cooper and her fine ass out of my mind for the time being. There was a race to win, even if each lap was only a test or to beat my personal best for giggles on a shitty-ass day.
“How many souls did you have to sell to make it happen?”
Ryan grinned. “You don’t wanna know.”
“You’re a wizard. Let’s do it.”
The weekend passed in a blur of warm laps, tune ups and the art of tweaking everything in the pursuit of speed and efficiency. By the time I sat back in my chair, waiting to speak at the Sunday evening press conference, exhaustion swamped me.
Benson chatted with the press while we watched from the side entrance to the room. His face was slightly red, but after a tough week fielding media in between the technical aspect of the job and some damn hard hours in the seat, all of us had some level of exhaustion showing.
I yawned behind my hand, tilting my head back, and spotted Sunny on the opposite side of the stage.
Her face was drawn tight as she tapped at her phone frantically. Dressed in a racing team jacket that matched her driver, she wore dark, tight denim beneath it. Sky high black heels were tied around her ankles.
I rose and stuffed my hand in my pockets. After cleaning the mess up in the garage, I’d done what York recommended—knuckled down and focused on the race and prep. All things considered, we’d come in strong for the start of the season. A small urge to smash that first next race out of Benson’s grasp washed over me, followed by another yawn.
“You’re dead on your feet,” Ryan murmured beside me. He folded his arms as Benson finished up with his part of the press conference. “One more question and you’re up.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I blinked bleary eyes.
When I opened them, Sunny had disappeared from her spot near the stage. She’d probably disappeared with the rest of Benson’s crew but some urge deep inside me needed to see where she had gone.
A foot hit my shin and I started, guilt straining my lips in a silent grimace.
“Don’t you dare trail after that ass.” Ryan continued his mini tirade. “You stay right there and do your piece.”
“Yes, Dad.” I closed my eyes, tilting my head back but the need to see her was too strong.
I took a step back to find Ryan’s foot behind my boot.
“Stay the fuck there, Hawk. York’ll have your head on a stick for his trophy wall if you screw this up.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, shooting him a sideways look. “Always about the money.”
Ryan glared at me. “And the reputation, and the sport and you pulling your head out of your ass. Must be damn dark in there, Sunshine.”
I grinned. Pushing away from my spot as someone called my name, I headed up to the stage.
Night fell, shrouding everything in pitch by the time I’d showered and gathered my things to head out to the team RV. Otherwise, the lot was deserted. Everyone was already having dinner but I lagged. The day slammed into me, bone deep exhaustion replacing the adrenaline that had rushed through me. The team might be states away from home, but mine was across the city. Still, the glossy black badged bus was our base.
I ran my hand over my face. Bristles bit into my skin, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to crawl into my bed and sleep for twelve hours before we hit the rebuild tomorrow early from today’s results.
Heels clicked sharply on the pavement, the sound echoing across the otherwise empty lot, accompanied by a voice I had grown to know well. There was enough stress in Sunny's tone to draw me around the side of the building and eavesdrop on her conversation without a single speck of guilt.
Okay, more than eavesdrop. I wanted a visual to go with her voice that hit me like sunrise and that first mouthful of scalding coffee. That's the sort of wakeup call my cock got the moment I laid eyes on her ass in those damn black leather pants I swore she spray painted on and I wanted to peel right off her perfect body.
The woman drew me to her to the point I wanted to understand every aspect of her life—and why she chose to work for a dick like Benson.
“Yes. No. Yes, I will. Yes— no, it won’t work.” She sighed, pushing a hand through her curls. Her back was to me and I was treated with a fine view of that perfect rear again. Not that I was complaining. “Benson— yes. Fine. No, I said it was fine. Yes, that’s what fine means. Thank you.” She hung up and smacked her phone against her thigh. “Asshole.”
“He is, isn’t he?” I mused.
She had Benson’s number down, but then I imagined that anyone who worked with the arrogant ass would come to that assessment at some point sooner rather than later.
Sunny squeaked and spun around as I crossed the lot to her, not stopping until we stood a hand’s breadth apart. Her pale curls flared out in a halo that only enhanced the blazing eyes narrowed in my direction. “Hawk! You scared the— Why are you stalking me?”
I huffed a laugh. “I heard your uh, conversation when I left the building and came to check you were okay. But if I’m not needed, then…” I lied through my teeth as I pushed my hands into my jean pockets and shrugged, rotating slowly on my heel, increasing the distance between us.
“No, wait. That was rude.” Her heels clicked on the pavement in a staccato beat as she closed the gap I created.
“It was,” I agreed, smothering a smile, though I didn’t turn back to her. “Make it up to me with a drink?”
“Aren’t you exhausted? Benson always?—”
I turned back to her and pressed my fingers over her perfect little pout that matched her cute butt with its sweet little curves in all the right places. “I don’t want to hear about what Benson does, Princess. I want to know if you’ll come for a drink with me.”
Sunny blinked at me behind my finger. Her lips parted as she started to talk around my hand, her tongue flicking my fingertip in a tentative caress that sent a shot of desire straight to my cock, headier than any alcohol could ever do.
“Hawk—” She started, and stopped. The ghost of her last breath still warm against my fingertip, her thick-lashed eyes flared wide as she backed away in a flurry of curls and heels.
I dropped my hand, resisting the temptation to press my fingers together and find out if the tips were moist.
What the fuck just happened?
Her eyes widened impossibly far as her fingers rose to her lips, touching the spot where mine had rested a moment before.
My cock strained against the denim encasing it, wishing she’d touch me the way she touched her mouth. Or to have those hot, wet pouty lips wrapped around me.
Fuck.
This was why I rarely screwed around during the season. One night stands suited a man who moved cities week to week. Fucking around with my direct competitor’s PR employee didn’t, but it looked like I was going to do it anyway. Fuck Benson and his damn rules. I knew what I wanted, even if she didn’t — at least, not just yet.
I let a slow smile creep across my face full of sin and the promise of what I could do to her. “I guess I’m going to bed then. Alone.” I held her gaze and dropped the smile, letting her see the raw desire that replaced the exhaustion fueling my veins.
A short, indrawn breath told me I’d hit the mark on that one.
“I— you—” Sunny started to stammer, and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. “Good night, Hawk.”
“Good night, Sunny.” I stilled as she skirted around me, her gaze flicking to where my hands were stuffed in my pockets as though wondering if I would grab her and pull her into me.
The idea had merit, and though I did want to feel that stunning body pressed to mine, torturing her like this was so much more fun.
Sunny made it around me unscathed, and as she stepped into the ambient light from the building she paused and looked back. Her mouth opened. I tracked the slight movement with interest, but she said nothing and with a skittish glance into my eyes, she darted away from the building and disappeared into the darkness.
Part of me wished I had walked her to her van, or wherever she stayed when she was on the road with Benson. The other half of me was glad I hadn’t. It made the chase far more interesting, and I fully intended to enjoy pursuing Sunny Cooper.
Either way I needed a cold shower. I adjusted myself, giving my still straining cock a hard squeeze, and headed back to my bus where half the boys had already passed out. Ryan and a few of the mechanics played poker at the small table. My crew chief rolled his eyes in my direction.
I gave him a quick grin that only elicited the same response again and headed into the bathroom, setting the water to the iciest setting. In order to clear my mind of Sunny and do what York wanted I’d need pain from the cold needles spiking into my skin. Wash every thought of her in those damn pants.
At least until I decided it was time to reel her in and play.
A ruined sound left my throat as I palmed my cock and shattered every personal rule I ever made all because of a woman on my enemy’s team. She’d be mine soon enough.
And I wasn’t a patient man.