Chapter 4
“How was your first day?” my mom asks, and I sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Good,” I say instead of interesting. And it’s all because of Abigail.
I never thought the place my parents sent me to reform would be where I discovered a new fascination. Ever since I saw her, she has been on my mind for some unknown reason. What is it about this girl that gives her so much power over my thoughts? But damn, that feisty attitude of hers does something to me.
“Please, I need more than that, Dane.”
I flick open the lighter and remember Abigail’s electric blue eyes on the flames, fascinated by the potential to burn, just as I am.
“I’ll be good.”
I’ll try. I’m already bored out of my mind, and it’s just day one. You have your life planned out only for a spur-of-the-moment choice to change everything. It sucks.
Not only that, but on the drive from the airport to Greenville, my hands shook on the wheel. I did not intend to attract an audience when I arrived at my prison. It was my damn anger pushing me. My racing career is doomed if I can’t control my car.
Until I can get back behind the wheel without my hands trembling like two broken branches, my mind will keep spiraling to that damn dark place.
Racing anchors me. Without it, I don’t know how I will stay afloat while always fighting the clutches of my warped brain.
“How’s Jasmine?” I ask.
“She misses you.”
A small smile lifts the corners of my lips. She’s too young to miss me, but I prefer to think she does.
“I miss her too.”
“How is he?” I hear his muffled voice. I might be a dick, but he is a good stepdad. With everything I have put him through, Denny still hasn’t given up on me.
“Hi, son,” he says.
“Hi, Dad.”
“The school called me.”
I drag a hand down my face. “That was quick, and I didn’t do a thing.”
“Yes, you did. They informed me you were late and made a big entrance, even though I told you not to draw attention.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“You’re there to learn to obey rules.”
Rules. If I could only listen.
“I have to go.”
“Dane.” A low warning and he adds, “One year, Son.”
“Do you think one year will polish up my reputation?”
I must be a damn coward if it takes thousands of miles and a phone call to ask the question that has eaten at me. My mistakes just keep piling up.
“You have youth on your side. Clean up your image. People love a good redemption story.”
Chuckling, I hang up.
I might not have to share my small apartment, but I know that’s where my privileges end. Not having a roommate is my father’s way of making sure I don’t get into trouble.
I tend to party too hard when things get rough and do things like that stupid race because I can’t control my impulses.
But it’s more than that. Even though I knew at that moment when I finished the street race and roared, “I’m a legend,” that I would have to pay the consequences with all those cameras on me. That didn’t stop me from continuing to do more stupid things. The self-destruction button had been thoroughly smashed. So, I drove to the first gas station, bought booze with my fake ID and drove back home drunk and straight into the pool. And that was the first time I lost control. Now, I am paying the price.
I used to love the engine revving up under my ass, hundreds of horsepower at my fingertips, making me feel alive. And it’s the same thing that terrifies me now. Maybe my self-preservation is not as dead as I thought, giving me a small hope that I can win this unrelenting battle with my brain.
I am broken—my mind, my soul, yet I am still alive.
The meds taunt me to take them and make it better. You don’t want to end up like him. I know what my father had. Behind a smile so big, was a darkness that owned him. A father’s legacy is the biggest weight on his son’s shoulders.
I take the white pills, and they settle me.
There, I’m trying.
I don’t know if I can beat these dark episodes, but I have to push through until I become a racing legend even bigger than my father.
Tiredness pulls at my eyelids, and images of Abigail penetrate the haze. That damn red lipstick on her pouty mouth I want to see wrapped around my cock.
Something tells me she’ll be my greatest challenge.
Tell me I can’t have something and I desire it twice as much. I want to ruffle her up, see what’s behind that perfectly proper and polished exterior. Under the icy facade is a dormant volcano, and I want her to erupt.
If I can’t make my own chaos, at least I can unleash hers.
***
I arrange my hair into a messy style and change into the black school uniform, but yank at my white collar to loosen it up a bit. Another leash I have no choice but to accept.
Pacing around, I halt in front of the bedroom window. Looking outside, I see my car parked and my hands shake automatically. The images of me losing control attack me full force.
I bend over and dry heave. Slamming my fist into the wall, I inhale and exhale in small puffs of air until my breathing returns to normal. Just to torment myself further, I type my name on my phone’s search engine.
My biggest competitor, Juarez, uses my name to get more publicity. I click on his latest interview, and he says, “He’s done. Dane doesn’t have what it takes.”
I’ll show you, asshole. I do have what it takes.
Anger streams through my blood, making my insides boil. I head toward the damn school building, trapped here while my nemesis is actively trying to take my number one position.
The hallways are empty, which means I’m late. Great.
I knock, and the teacher puts her hands on her waist and grimaces as she glances at her watch.
“The school day starts at eight a.m., Mr. Donovan.”
“It won’t happen again,” I grumble.
She gestures for me to take a seat, and my shitty morning takes a turn for the better when I spot those red lips and a tight expression on her breathtaking face.
This girl’s beauty is unmatched. Her long blond hair cascades down her slender back, those almond-shaped eyes framed by long lashes. Not one flaw, but pure perfection: heart-shaped mouth, high cheekbones, and pert nose.
She sticks her nose up the moment I reach her. I love to mess with her, so I drop into the seat next to her. She rolls her eyes at me, and knowing I rattle her well-constructed exterior gives me great satisfaction.
Abigail doodles on her paper. She’s either too smart or vapid enough not to care. The latter doesn’t sit well with me.
“You should pay attention to the teacher and not me. I won’t let you copy.”
“Abigail and Dane, you’re interrupting the class,” the teacher says.
While I lean into the chair, I wink at Abigail, ignoring the teacher.
“Then you should get your facts straight. The higher tax rate is paid only on the portion of income in that tax bracket and not the entire income,” Abigail says.
“Excuse me?”
“You asked why would you take a raise into the next bracket if you’re going to be taxed more? To which you answered people refuse a raise to avoid losing money by going into the next tax bracket. It’s simply not true.”
My jaw drops while she stares at the teacher, who blushes a fiery red. They get into a discussion while the entire class rolls their heads between the two of them like they’re watching a tennis match.
When the teacher agrees with her, Abigail resumes drawing. I catch what she draws. It’s a flame. I contemplate her every stroke while she focuses on layering out the image.
When the bell rings, I snatch the paper from her, and her fierce expression pins on me.
“I must have been the inspiration, so it’s technically mine.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose to grasp for calmness when all I want is to see her come undone.
“Abi?”
At a guy’s voice, she turns to him, a genuine smile lighting up her face.
My stomach knots. From the door, he snaps his head to me, and his detached eyes find me with a clear warning stamped on them.
She goes to him, and whatever they talk about makes her bite her lower lip, nodding. There is no trace left of the girl who put the damn teacher in her place with facts.
When they leave, I crumple the paper only to flatten it and tuck it in my jacket pocket.
Students greet me as I pass them in the hallway. A girl sashays over to me—I think her name is Jessica. She flicks her hair back, her eyes taking me in.
It does nothing for me.
She curls her elbow around my arm and starts babbling before I even have the chance to disentangle her arm from mine.
“What is her problem now?” she huffs exaggeratedly.
“What?”
“Ah, don’t you know? I’m talking about the very queen herself, Abigail. I think she’s trying too hard, though.”
“And I think you’d like to be in her place.”
Her eyes bulge, but I am finally free of her clutches.
“You’re never going to have a chance with her. She’s with Kaden. She took him right from under his first girlfriend, like who does that?”
A person who wants something badly.
Inside the cafeteria, I watch the group at their table. Kaden and Abigail are always together. Despite being the most prominent couple here, they keep their PDA very low to nonexistent.
Then there is Blake, who I have dubbed the most outgoing among them. He’s always talking and gesticulating as if to counterbalance these two, and then there is Bailey, who has her eyes stuck on her phone.
These four make a curious mix.
I approach their table and take a seat. You could hear a pin drop.
“Are you lost, man?” Blake asks.
“No, he’s just desperate to prove a point,” Abigail sighs.
Kaden leans back and stares me down. “All his life, he had to prove something, that his father wasn’t a man with too much talent and no fucking time for him.”
Abigail elbows Kaden, but the fucker did his homework. “Do you think messing with us will make your mommy love you more? Your mother and stepfather must have sent you here so they can finally have some peace.”
“Kaden. Enough.”
It does funny things to me to hear the warning come from her.
Bailey looks at me with an apologetic glance, but I storm away. Those words cling to me. The bitter taste of truth coats my tongue, poisoning my blood. My fingers shake, and I rush toward my car, not giving a fuck.
Fuck this school and the rules and my suspension.
I need, I need to…
I am suddenly dragged back by a hand. It feels as if Abigail is literally pulling me back from the point of no return. At this moment, she’s my guardian angel.
“Are you okay?”
“Why do you care?”
I drag a hand down my face, fucking sick to my bones. I’m never going to be normal. Why even try?
Her hands cup my face, anchoring me in the here and now.
“Breathe with me.”
And I do just that, breathing her intoxicating rose and vanilla scent into my lungs, which instantly calms my demons.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
And still, why does she care?
“You’re brave. Brave but reckless.”
I chuckle. “And you’re smart and you sell yourself short.”
My hands grip her waist and she lets out a startled sound. I pull her to me, and her palms land on my chest. Her touch and her nearness wreak a different kind of havoc inside me.
She brushes her fingers along the lapels of my jacket, making my heart race even faster.
“Your boyfriend is watching.”
“I’m going to get so much shit for this.”
Her eyes, taking on a sad hue, find mine.
“I could be worth the trouble, princess.”
“Something tells me you would.”
I smile even though she takes a step back, leaving me for him, and every fiber in my body screams to get her back.
Kaden spits words out that I can’t decipher, not looking happy at all.
I force myself not to march over to him and punch him in the face.
Why do girls go for safe when they can ride a wave and feel on top of the world? Yes, right, because the waves crash on you when it ends. You could never say the same about the tide—steady, linear, predictable.
I want her to choose me, even though I have no idea why. I just know with every furious heartbeat that I want Abigail.
He won this round. I jerk my chin in his direction. There are more rounds until the race ends. And I am set and ready for the competition.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pluck it out.
“Hey, bro, what’s up?” Alec says.
“Nothing.”
“I’m throwing a party. Wanna join?”
“Asshole.”
My best friend chuckles. “It’s not the same without you. So how is jail treating you?”
“Better than I expected.”
Whatever Alec wanted to say dies when I hang up.
I open the school’s senior chat and see the feed flooding with yeses after Blake posted an invitation to a party.
I type a yes as well.
Abigail is at her locker, and I prop my side on the one beside her.
“Going to a party? Not enough suspension in your life?”
“I’m bored.”
She sighs, disappointment ringing loudly. My arm shoots out to touch her when she steps back, and I shove my hands into my pockets.
“Dane…”
“Will you come?”
“To a party?”
For a few seconds, it appears she’s trapped somewhere else. She swallows and shakes herself off.
“Not my scene.”
“Afraid to let loose a bit?”
“Some of us have a future to think about.”
Her words sting even worse than Kaden’s. I watch her leave, and from the corner of my eye, I catch the dickhead eyeing me as if I am a damn nuisance.
“Stay away from her,” Kaden says.
“Afraid of a little competition?”
The asshole throws his head back and laughs and laughs some more while a wave of anger surges through me, ripping my composure to smithereens.
His laughter taunts me even when he’s gone.
“You made him laugh. What did you say?” a random guy asks.
Is this damn school interested only in these four? Don’t they fucking have a life?
I glare at him, and he extends his hand. A few of his buddies follow. “Hi, man. I’m Max, just wanted to introduce myself. You’re a killer on the track.”
I knew the news would travel with me. It’s not as if I can stop the internet, but just for once, I wish I were no one. My name, face, and mistakes wouldn’t be public for all these people to think they have insight into me. If people’s opinions would come with a prerequisite of working on themselves first, they would think twice before offering it so gratuitously about others. Running your mouth is free, but working on yourself, well that’s hard work, so most of them would simply stop spewing nonsense they have no fucking clue about.
Blake passes by and says, “I saw that you’re coming to my party.”
“Call me curious.”
“It will be worth your time. I’m the undisputed party king.”
He saunters away, and people congregate around him. Stepping outside, I follow the path to where Abigail disappeared, only to find her on a bench in the rose garden in conversation with Bailey.
“Ladies.”
Abigail lifts her arms in the air. “He’s stalking me.”
“The point of stalking is not to be seen. But I want you to see me, sweetheart.”
I fucking live for her mouth to open in incredulity.
“So Dane, how do you like Eagleton so far?” Bailey asks.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Bailey stands up, but Abigail grabs her elbow, her eyes pleading for her not to leave her alone with me. Interesting.
Bailey stares me down. “I can ruin your life in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. Hurt her and I will.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. I believe her.
When she walks away, I’m still somewhat in shock. She looks so damn innocent on the outside.
Abigail calls out to her. “Traitor.”
I cock my head. “You’re quite the group.”
“And you’re a stalker.”
“You’re still on that? I thought we moved on.”
“There is no ‘we’.”
I take out the Zippo from my pocket. Flicking the lighter, I put the cigarette between my lips.
I knew she would go for it. So when her hand shoots up, I grab her wrist, dragging her to me. I can’t stop touching her and wanting her close—an intriguing mystery.
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t move. With her body pressed flush against mine, my mind calms down, my heart beats a content rhythm—a sensation I have never experienced before. My cock is a different story, though. He becomes hyperaware of her breasts against my chest and gets painfully hard.
I expel the smoke slowly in her gorgeous face. Her beauty ensnares me.
Her nose crinkles and I find the gesture bewitching. She spins her web around my being with such ease, trapping and captivating me at the same time. I lean in further, our lips a breath away.
“Kiss me and I’ll stop,” I whisper across her full lips.
I have never had much control, but when it comes to her, I have none. Brushing my thumb over her lower lip, a zap travels through my body, electrifying me. My insides vibrate, wanting to claim her lips and finally get a taste. But I already know what she’d feel and taste like—sweetness and ruin, paradise and downfall. One small taste of her and I’d become addicted—my custom-made drug to lose my damn mind, and I’d end up overdosing, not caring about anything but the next euphoric kick. Her pull would be too strong to resist.
Eyes locked, I lose myself in her vibrant blue eyes, and everything else disappears.
“Stop and I might kiss you because I would never kiss an ashtray.”
That sass of hers will be my doom.
“If you don’t take me at my worst, then why should I give you my best?”
It’s these moments of utter sincerity that make the mess of us.
An explosive combination.
A very dangerous and risky one.
We’re going to crash.
Wouldn’t be my first time.