Chapter 9
LARK
T he drive east felt shorter with my arms wrapped around Jaxton’s solid frame, the roar of his Harley drowning out my thoughts. By the time we pulled through the gates at Torque Ridge, I was buzzing with nerves I couldn’t quite place.
He parked next to a row of motorcycles, knocked the kickstand down, and waited for me to climb off before he did. After he took care of our helmets, he brushed his fingers over mine before lacing them together. “Ready?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I hadn’t been sure what to expect when Jaxton told me he needed to go to an underground race at a track I hadn’t heard of before.
As we pulled up, I realized it was a converted shipping yard.
Rust-streaked walls towered around the perimeter, graffiti scrawled across metal siding that hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades.
The gates clanged shut behind us, locking out the rest of the world.
Floodlights perched on poles lit the asphalt in harsh, fractured beams, throwing everything into jagged contrasts of light and shadow. Barrels had been shoved into place to mimic barriers, but they didn’t look like they’d hold back anything moving at full speed.
My pulse skipped as I scanned the controlled chaos. This wasn’t my world. But being here with Jaxton still felt right.
Jaxton guided me over to the pit, his palm hot against my lower back. Just enough contact to send a delicious shiver up my spine and remind me who I was with.
People noticed us as we walked by. I caught the flick of eyes—some curious, some wary, most careful when they landed on Jaxton. It wasn’t just the cut on his back or the lethal calm he carried like armor. It was the promise of violence simmering just beneath the surface.
The awareness of being seen prickled along my skin, something I had grown unaccustomed to over the past two years. I pulled in a slow breath, steadying myself. Then I reminded myself that whatever tonight held, I didn’t need to worry about staying invisible. Not with Jaxton at my side.
Jaxton greeted a few people in the pit, then he steered me to a stretch of shadow near the back wall, where a folding chair sat wedged between stacked crates of tools and spare tires. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was tucked away enough to keep me out of the main crush of bodies.
“Sit.” His palm brushed my hip in a way that left no room for argument.
I sank onto the chair and smiled up at him.
“I won’t be long.” His gaze swept the area once before pinning me in place. “Stay put.”
“Where are you going?”
“Work.”
I knew that was why we’d come, but I hadn’t expected him to leave me the moment we arrived. Although I wasn’t alone, I didn’t see anyone I recognized.
His hand squeezed my shoulder once, offering reassurance, before he turned and melted into the crowd, his cut disappearing among the bodies moving through the pit.
Left alone, I exhaled slowly and tried to look like I belonged here.
People hurried past, some hauling toolboxes, others rolling spare tires or clutching clipboards.
Radios crackled. The scent of burnt rubber and gasoline stung my nose, familiar now after the time I’d spent at Brake Point Run, but it was harsher here.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket, pretending to scroll just to give my hands something to do.
“Hey.”
The deep voice made me glance up. A guy about my age stood a few feet away. His dark hair was damp with sweat, his coveralls unzipped halfway to reveal a grease-smudged T-shirt. His smile was easy, boyish, and far too confident.
“You new around here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…yeah. Sort of.”
“Lucky me, then.” He leaned against a nearby crate, wiping his hands with a rag. His grin widened, and he gave me a slow once-over that made my skin prickle. “You here with one of the drivers?”
I shook my head quickly. “No. I’m?—”
“Good.” His smile turned into something more suggestive. “Because I was about to say…if you’re free later, I could show you around the place. Maybe even sneak you into the driver’s seat. Could be fun.”
My stomach flipped uneasily. I shifted in the chair, searching for a polite way to shut him down without drawing attention. Then the air shifted, and before I even saw him, I felt Jaxton step out of the shadows.
His gaze sliced straight through the boy in front of me.
“Walk away.” His voice was low, quiet enough that it should’ve been ignorable, but it wasn’t. There was too much command wrapped in steel.
The guy blinked, still cocky enough to try a smirk. “Hey, I was just?—”
“Walk. Away.” Two words, heavier than a fist.
Something in Jaxton’s stare must’ve clicked, because the guy’s face drained of color. He stammered, backing up so fast he nearly tripped over a crate before bolting away.
My heart was still pounding when I turned on Jaxton. “Was that really necessary?”
Even as I said it, a treacherous thrill curled low in my stomach at how easily he’d cleared the space around me.
Jaxton’s expression didn’t shift. He might as well have been carved from stone. “He looked at you like you were available.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, part indignation, part something else I didn’t want to name. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “I’m not.”
He prowled closer. “Damn right you’re not.”
Before I could decide how to respond, Jaxton’s hand closed around mine. He didn’t yank or give me time to argue—just gently pulled me from the chair and deeper into the shadows, until my back hit the cold, corrugated metal wall of the pit.
I gasped, palms flattening against the ridged surface for balance. He was already there, crowding me in, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my hip with a familiarity that stole my breath.
Engines revved, voices shouted, and radios crackled—but none of it mattered when his mouth crashed against mine. It all faded into the background.
Heat flared so fast it stole my breath. This was a completely different kind of kiss.
Raw, public, and deliberate. Another new experience for me as his tongue slid against mine with a hunger that made my knees weaken.
His stubble scraped my skin, his body pinning me hard enough to feel every inch of him.
I clutched his shirt, the heat of his chest searing through the thin cotton, and dragged him closer.
Shameless in the way my body leaned into his, chasing every brush of his lips like I’d been starving for them.
Sparks shot through me, desire coursing through my veins and leaving me trembling for all the right reasons.
I barely registered the stares or the sudden hush around us until Jaxton pulled back just enough to rasp against my lips, “Mine.”
The single word shivered straight down my spine, tightening everything inside me. I barely had time to draw breath before he was gone again.
I wasn’t even sure where he’d come from or how he’d known someone was flirting with me. But it didn’t matter when I was still burning and breathless. The only thought running through my head was how badly I wanted him to come back and finish what he started.
But he wouldn’t have left me here if it wasn’t important, so I stayed there, back pressed to the wall, lips swollen and breath ragged.
Everyone had seen. That much I knew. His mouth on mine, his body crowding me close, and the way he claimed me—it hadn’t been subtle.
And I liked that he’d made damn sure everyone here knew I was his.
I smoothed a trembling hand over my hair, trying to look composed, but inside, I was still shaking with want. No matter what happened on the track tonight, I already knew where my mind—and my body—would be. Not on the races. Not on the chaos around me.
On Jaxton.
On the way he’d looked at me like there wasn’t a soul alive who could challenge what was his.
And on the fire still burning through me, demanding more.