Chapter 46
Travis
“Travis, do you think the continued rumors about your performance in Monaco will distract you from this weekend?”
I hold up my hand to stop Norm when he takes a step like he’s about to intervene.
We’re in the Netherlands and, per usual, I’m doing my pre-race interviews. I qualified for pole position just yesterday. You would think that would’ve put the speculations to rest but it hasn’t.
The removal of that video turned the volume of the rumors down for a few weeks, but two days before I flew to the Netherlands another accusation popped up. This one came from a random social media account. Not many followers but the post is doing numbers.
“No,” I say, flatly. “Next question.”
She looks flustered, which is exactly what I was aiming for. Most reporters have the decency not to ask about said rumors especially since no proof has been shown, my team has vehemently denied them, and I allowed Norm to put out his public statement on my behalf.
I glance over the reporter’s shoulder to find my Uncle Brutus standing in the corner, arms folded. Though he’s closer to seven feet than six, and bulky as hell, he has a way of blending in so that most people don’t even notice him.
His gaze carefully tracks everyone who comes in and out of the paddock.
“Y-Yes, well, good luck today,” she says, apparently not getting the reaction she was hoping for.
I give her a tight smile and turn away.
Drake comes up, asking, “How’re you feeling today?”
Like shit.
I haven’t heard Alyssia’s voice in days. The last time we spoke it was a clipped conversation over nursery furniture delivery. She hasn’t responded to any of my text messages apologizing. Not that I expect her to, honestly.
My mom is the one who gave me the rundown on Alyssia’s doctor’s appointment with Dr. Dupas the day before.
I know I fucked up by trying to hide the severity of my sport. Now I don’t know if she’s more upset over the danger of my sport or the fact that I lied. My stomach tightens in terror when I think about the reality that I haven’t told her anything about these threats and blackmail.
Since that letter with the picture of her and me at the market was sent, there haven’t been any more direct threats against her. As long as she remains in Monaco, under my apartment’s security and with my family, she’s safe.
“Fine,” I finally respond.
He looks me over but doesn’t say anything.
An hour later, I’m almost set to get into my car to drive up to the starting line. I’ve got about ten more minutes before I need to go. On a whim, I grab my phone and dial Alyssia’s number.
Something doesn’t feel right. If I can just assure myself that she’s okay, I’ll feel better. I need this to clear my head for this race.
“Travis?” she answers, sounding breathless.
The relief that overcomes me at the melodic sound of her voice steals my breath.
“Hello?”
“I’m here.” I cover my free ear to turn down the volume of my surroundings and just so I can hear her better. “I can’t believe you answered.”
A small laugh passes through the phone line. “I had my phone in my hand to call you.”
I jut my head back in surprise.
“Alyssia, I’m so sorry for lying to you and not giving you the full truth.”
She sighs. “There’s so much I want to say.” She sounds as if she’s moving. “So much, but there’s a delivery guy here to drop off whatever you ordered for the nursery.”
My brows wrinkle immediately.
“Alyssia, where are you?”
“Travis?” There’s a tap on my shoulder. I look up to see Drake hovering over me. “We gotta go.”
“Home,” Alyssia answers. “Hang on, the delivery—”
“Travis, you need to get in your car,” Drake’s voice becomes laced in impatience.
The world around me buzzes with activity and anticipation.
Something’s wrong. My gut clenches with impending doom. My eyes dart over to the corner of the garage where my uncle stands. His eyes meet mine. My expression must give me away because his demeanor shifts from one of calm alertness to full alert.
“Baby, I didn’t have any deliveries scheduled for today.” I try to keep my voice calm to not alarm Alyssia.
“Are you Alyssia Scott?” a deep, male voice that sends a chill crawling down my spine asks. It drowns out my team yelling at me to get in my damn car.
That voice sounds familiar, but I can’t pinpoint it.
“Alyssia, don’t answer him,” I yell into the phone.
It’s too late.
There’s a pause before, “Yes, that’s me,” she answers, seemingly to have pulled the phone from her ear.
That’s when I hear a gasp and then a wrestling sound, followed by murmurs from the male. The ominous tone sends a raw charge through my body, nearly causing me to swerve off the road.
Then the line goes dead.
No matter how many times I call her name, she doesn’t reply. There’s no answer because she’s gone.
Taken.
“Travis, I don’t know what the fuck just happened, but you have to get in your car,” Drake says. “The race is about to start.”
I stare at him and then at my uncle, over his shoulder.
“Fuck this race.”