Chapter 33
33
FORD
“ I s everything set up?” I drop the car in third, the Lamborghini roaring down the street.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Trent says.
“Answer the question,” I grit.
“Yeah, it’s a party.”
“Good.”
“Do you think this is a good idea, Ford?”
I can’t think of anything better.
My phone beeps from an incoming call. I pull the phone away from my ear and see Derek’s name flashing on the screen.
“I have to call you back,” I tell Trent and press the green button.
“Oh, thank God,” Dereck says, relief pouring from his voice. “Ford, I know you hired me, and I’m pushing the limit right now, but…are you out of your goddamn mind? You have to be in Italy in four hours.”
I thought I would be able to take this race, but I never thought coming back to see her she would need me.
“I’m not going. I have to take care of something first.”
“Like you did when you walked out on that poor girl. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“I know it was fucked move on my part, but I have my reasons, and it has everything to do with her. Trust me, she’s important to me, Derek. That part isn’t a lie. I thought opening a racing shop back here was what I wanted, but it’s not. That was a pipe dream when I was a teenager.”
He sighs. “Look, I don’t mean to be a dick, but ever since you went back to your hometown, everything has been falling to shit. Now, what is it about this girl?”
“She’s mine,” I growl, gripping the steering wheel and shifting into fourth.
“Then why the fuck did you leave her there in the penthouse?” he asks cuttingly. “She had a nightmare, for God’s sake.”
All I can think about is killing someone for what they did to her. The moment the words miscarriage left her lips, I felt like grabbing the tablet from Dr. Long’s hands and breaking it into pieces so he wouldn’t enter it in her file.
Then regret burned like hot coals for leaving her in Airy and not taking her with me, but I couldn’t. I had a problem I couldn’t subject her to. There was no fixing my obsession with her. There wasn’t a magic pill that would make me forget her. She was engraved in my head.
The only option four years ago was to leave. It was a mistake. Not leaving, but not taking her with me.
I walked out of the hotel room because I was ashamed. I couldn’t look at her and tell her it was going to be alright because how could I? It wasn’t alright. She was suffering, and I couldn’t do anything to take her pain away. All I could do was avenge her, and I didn’t want her to see it in my eyes. I didn’t want her to see what I was capable of, or for her to tell me to stop. Because the truth was, I would never stop. Not for her.
“Her grandmother just died.”
“Oh…Jesus. That girl has some luck, huh?”
“Be careful, Derek,” I warn.
He says it like she is bad luck. Race car drivers are superstitious but not me. I’m the best at what I do, and she isn’t bad luck. She just needed me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Since I have you on the phone and you’re going to call me in a few hours anyway, I’m on my way now to her. I can’t be in Italy. Make an announcement to the media that there is a death in the family, and I’m needed back home.”
“You do know she isn’t your family, right?” he points out.
“She will be very soon.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. Are you sure you can’t make it to the race?”
I roll my eyes. “I gotta go.”
I hang up and take the car out of sport shift mode and stop at a red light near Main Street with a perfect view of the bakery.
I left her sleeping on the bed. She needed rest, and I was too busy planning. The less she is involved, the better. Frightening her away would do me no good. I admit I was angry. Not with her but of what she went through. At that moment, I wanted to take her with me and never bring her back, but I knew that would be impossible. She had her grandmother to look after, but now, she is going to need me more than ever.
After I left the hotel room, I dealt with my anger the only way I knew how—on the track. I was a madman behind the wheel, wanting to destroy and kill everyone responsible, but it wasn’t that simple. I had to plan before coming back to Airy.
I grip the steering wheel to keep them from turning the wheel around and going to her. The note she left me imprinted on my mind like the tattoos on my skin. Permanent. Unable to wash off.
I turn left and head to the church.
I find a spot in the back, where I told Trent to leave the rented Toyota Camry. It’s inconspicuous and blends in. No one would look for me in it.
I get out and walk into the small church weathered with age. The grass is slightly burnt near the pathway.
The handle to the entrance is rusted with age. The heavy door is darkened by years of sunlight and use. There is a loud click when I open the door, followed by a loud creak.
A breeze floats through the air before the door shuts behind me with a loud clank. The air is stuffy, with a strong smell of incense and flowers. There is no air-conditioning.
“Can I help you?” a man’s voice says with a gravelly undertone. I turn and find the priest dabbing his weathered face with a napkin, giving me a once-over.
“I would like to pray for someone who just passed away,” I reply.
He nods and motions me over. He opens the Bible, and I follow him in prayer.
Looking up at the man himself nailed to the cross, I silently repent for the things I’ve done. I ask for forgiveness.
When I’m done, I silently pray for Dulce. For what she went through alone. I ask Him to give me life so I can make hers better.
I walk out sweating profusely, not feeling better, but like a sinner begging for forgiveness and not finding any.
I don’t think there is a God who would forgive me for what I plan to do. After leaving her in the hotel room, it all clicked into place. I knew who it was. I knew who did it. He may have fooled everyone else, but I saw it when I left his house that night. Not even the drugs could take what he had done to her from his eyes.
It was Chris.
I drive back to the bakery, hoping to catch Dulce. She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I can’t say I blame her.
I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve my fame or fortune while hers was full of struggle, nightmares, and death.
I walk into the bakery, taking a deep breath at the familiar smell of her delicious cookies. I can smell the oatmeal and hint of cinnamon.
I catch Katie at the register. When she senses me standing at the counter, she looks up and rolls her eyes.
“Is she here?” I ask softly, sliding my hands inside the front pockets of my jeans.
“She doesn’t want to see you,” she says with an edge to her voice.
“Look, I’m not the bad guy. I know whatever it is she might have told you looks bad, but I’m not the bad guy.” I close my eyes briefly. I’m struggling to stay calm and not barge into the kitchen and frighten her. “I really need to speak to her.”
She swallows hard. “I need to tell you something.” She looks at the camera, at me, then pulls out her phone, and I watch her fingers fly across the keyboard.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I open the text and look at the picture.
It shows three dead rats in front of what I recognize as the bakery’s back door.
“WHICH RAT WILL WIN THE RACE?” is written in red on the white concrete before the step. It looks like blood.
“When was this?” I ask, anger surging like a tidal wave. I’m surprised the screen doesn’t crack under my grip.
“Two days ago,” she replies.
“Has anything like this happened before?”
Her lips flatten as she shakes her head nervously. “No.”
I can tell she’s lying, and there’s more. She types on her phone and looks up.
A message goes through, and my nose flares in anger. My blood boils when I see a dead rat on the kitchen prep table with a sinister message written in the same fashion. Her needing a new table starts to make sense.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “for lying.”
“I’m not mad at you, Katie. You didn’t do this to her. Just be there for her, alright?”
She nods. “I will.”
I pocket my phone. “Thank you for telling me. If you hear or see anything else, let me know. Day or night.”
I need Katie on my side, but Dulce needs a friend right now, and Katie isn’t a bad person. She just hangs around bad people.
Trent told me about her. How he knows her from the next town over with a bad rep. I didn’t push, but I know there is something there. I could sense it that day between them in the garage. Hate, resentment, sexual frustration. Feelings I know all too well.
She nods, but I can see the guilt in her expression. She feels torn that she is betraying Dulce by telling me things without consulting with her first. Dulce probably told her not to tell me about the rat and the messages.
“Is she in the kitchen?” I ask, determined to talk to Dulce. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell her I forced my way in.”
“She’s heartbroken,” she says softly. “She needs you right now, Ford. She needs someone. I’m not sure what is going on between you two, but she is hurt that you left her.”
“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere without her,” I assure her before walking around the front counter.
I push the door to the kitchen, and I catch Dulce’s wide-eyed gaze when she spots me with her hand wrapped around a whisk. Her other holds a large mixing bowl. Her eyes have dark circles and are puffy, like she’s been crying.
“Hey,” I say delicately. “How are you doing?”
“How do you think?” she says sarcastically.
“I’ve been worried.”
“I bet,” she says, anger vibrating in her voice whisking away, the metal making a squishing noise. “What do you want, Ford?”
“I want you.”
She snorts. “I bet you do,” she says and then lets out a frustrating sigh. “If you came to pay your respects. Thank you. She was very fond of you; I appreciate you keeping your word. She died thinking you took me to prom, and I had a great time.”
“Is that what you think I’m worried about?” I say slowly. “You think I don’t care what you must be feeling right now?”
“I wouldn’t know what you care about. I’m kind of confused with your motives, but your actions are clear, and I’m no different from the women you screw in a separate hotel room and leave without a backward glance come morning?”
“That’s not…”
She raises her brows. “True? I guess the tabloids made it up, and those pictures posted online are fabricated, and all those women are liars.”
“Not with you.”
“Oh…that’s right. I didn’t make it to morning. I’m not that lucky. I don’t get an answer from a simple text either.”
“Dulce?”
She drops the whisk, splashing batter on the table. “What?”
“That’s not why I left.”
She averts her gaze, blinking back tears. “I know why you left, and I don’t blame you.” Her voice cracks on the last part.
“That’s not why,” I admit. “I would never judge you.”
Tears run down her beautiful face. “What was it, then?” she croaks. Regret?”
“Never. I could never regret you, Dulce. I’m here. For you. I didn’t leave because I don’t want you. I left because I had to do something.”
I close the distance, causing her to face me.
“We would never work,” she says, fighting a sob that wants to escape. “I’m not like those women.”
I whisper in her ear, “I don’t want you to be, Dulce. Trust me, I like the way you are just fine.” I cup her face gently in my hands so she can look into my eyes. “I’m here because I’m ready to make it work, Dulce. I’m here because I want you the way you are. Broken, beautiful, and all mine.”
She laughs, and I’m not sure if she is crying or not. She sniffs, looking up at the ceiling. “You should be dating a model. Married to someone famous. Have gorgeous kids with. A wedding in Italy, for God’s sake.”
I press my lips on her forehead. “I want all those things but not with a model or someone famous. I want that with you.” I dip my finger in the bowl and scoop up some batter, then suck it off my finger. “I like my future wife’s cookies. Always have. Her cakes.” I dip for some more, spreading it on her lips, and bend my head so my tongue can lick it off. “The way she tastes. So sweet like sugar.”
Her tongue licks mine, and she lets out a small whimper.
“Her babies that look like both of us vacationing in our villa in Italy. Replacing bad memories with the ones with us. If she has a nightmare, I’m there holding her, whispering in her ear that I will fight for her. Every fucking day if she’ll let me.”
“You’re crazy.”
I smile, taking her wrists and feeling her pulse points. “Besides, I made a promise to an old woman on her deathbed when she looked at me like I was the sun because I put a smile on her granddaughter’s face. I promised her that I would love her granddaughter, and I do. I fucking love you more than anything in my life. Call it an obsession. Call it whatever you want, but I loved you the moment I smelled your skin for the first time. Tasted what you made with your hands. I fell in love with every part of you, and I’ll do anything to make it right. I know more than you think, Dulce. But the truth is…I came back for you.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You’ve been gone for four years.”
“It does if you let it. If you can remember the little things from the past.”
“Remember what?” she says, confused.
“Let’s just say you weren’t crazy if you ever thought I wasn’t watching you when we were in school.”
Katie walks in and looks back and forth between us. “Are you two good now?”
“I’m not going to kidnap her?” I say sarcastically.
“I said I was going to look out for her and that meant from you too,” she confesses.
I knew she would tell her sooner or later.
Dulce glances at Katie. “What are you talking about, Katie?”
“He told me to watch over you,” Katie admits. “Basically, call him to tell him where you were and what you were doing at all times of the day,” Katie confesses. “Everything I told you was true about my past except who my ex-boyfriend was. It was Trent. Trent’s the asshole who broke my heart. He cheated on me with Summer. When Ford wanted to make sure you were okay, he knew I hated Trent and asked me for a favor after that day in the garage when you took me with you to see Trent.”
I pull out the wrapper she gave me that day four years ago from my back pocket. Dulce gasps when she sees it covering her mouth.
“I’ve always kept it,” I profess, looking at it. “It’s my good luck charm. I never race without it.”
“Is that why you ordered the cookies every week since then?” Dulce asks curiously, staring at the paper. “Under a company name.”
“That’s part of it.”
You’re my sweet obsession, and I don’t plan on letting go. Ever.