25. Wilder
Caden has called me the last three days in a row to deliver everything that he has uncovered about Prescott Lamont III.
The information doesn’t surprise me, but it is startling at how much rich people can get away with, and trust me, I know the irony of even thinking that.
Caden’s go-to hackers have barely started digging into Reed’s father, and have only gathered surface level stuff so far, the kind that won’t ruffle too many feathers.
Of course there is your usual bill of tax dodging, money laundering, and under the table escorts, but it’s the newest deal on his roster that piques my interest the most.
It seems Mr. Lamont reached out to Matteo’s father the day after he showed up in Zurich to pay a visit to his son.
I watched his small exchange with Matt and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but it seems right after meeting him, he reached out to Mr. Rodriguez.
Duchess was able to access their emails of initial contact, with Mr. Lamont pushing heavily to meet and discuss investing in his newest luxury condos being built.
Their exchange didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary, but I can’t understand why Mr. Lamont would go after a deal with him now.
I wish that was where my focus was, but Lincoln Blackwell was given the task of getting into Lamont's historical family medical records, which are for some reason, very heavily locked down. It seems it doesn’t matter which member of the Lamont family you try and look into, each time you will come up empty.
Which means either they are extremely private, and there is nothing to be found, or the more likely reason is that there is something Mr. Lamont doesn’t want people to find.
Apparently both Duchess and Blackwell are slammed with more pressing issues right now, but I don’t think they appreciate how pressing this is to me.
I haven’t spoken to Reed for the last three days, unable to even look at him without wanting to kiss him, or knock some sense into him.
I know whatever happened to him must have been hard to deal with, he was only a child then, he didn’t have any power over his father, but what about now?
He’s old enough to fight back, to expose him and watch his world crumble, so why isn’t he doing it?
It’s why I stopped going to his room every night, because there is only so much restraint I have when it comes to him, and it’s completely wearing thin.
We didn’t so much as share a word during training yesterday, and though he still did his job perfectly, I could feel his coldness toward me.
Gone was the sharing of stories and listening to him recall his historical knowledge, and in its place was nothing but my PR assistant, and I fucking hated it.
I have just finished my cool down lap on the circuit after coming in 5th during the battle for pole position, and I’m in no mood to go and do some press.
I can feel Reed’s stare on me from behind the camera, as he finishes up taking pictures, and I can’t help but look in his direction.
After spending so much time together, we often stare at one another, but for the first time since I met him, I see a shield in his.
Like my questions and actions the other day have forced him to erect a wall in place between us, and I have no idea how to break it down. Or if I should even try.
When I climb from my car Sid is already at my side, giving me a rundown of all my stats and directing the rest of his team to look over the car, but I don’t feel anything but hollow.
There is no adrenaline spilling over from the race, no pride from securing myself a great spot on the grid ahead of tomorrow, and no calmness in the pit of my stomach.
In fact, I can feel myself panicking, about what, I’m not sure, but there is a sense of dread inside of me that won’t go away, no matter how many breaths I take.
Once Sid is done with his post-race rundown, I leave my car in the garage, as Laura leads me toward the media area ready for my slot. I can feel Reed right on our heels and once there, I watch him slip into the crowd of cunts with cameras, as if he is one of them, and all I can do is grind my jaw.
I wait patiently for my turn, ignoring the mounting dread inside of me, but it only intensifies when I step in front of them all.
I answer a few questions about my form at first, ignoring Reed’s extended hand in the air every time I pick someone new.
I know he wants to ask a question, or get an exclusive quote, but if I look at him right now, I will lose it completely.
I’m barely even finished answering a question about the difficulty of the last turn, when another is fired my way that has my throat tightening.
“Wilder, what rehab is Jason in?” One of the dickhead reporters calls out, and when I snap my stare in the direction of his voice, it lands on a familiar face.
Peter Simons is renowned for always pushing the limits when it comes to his interviewing questions, and he’s been on my ass from the moment I stepped out for the season.
“How long of a stint is he doing? Ninety days for drinking too much? Three months for his coke addiction? Or is he like you and enjoys sex in public places?”
His questions don't surprise me, he’s a piece of shit who is just looking for his next big gossip blow up, and lucky for me, most people know his reputation. Unlucky for him, I like to get to know my enemies, which means I know all about him, and he picked the wrong day to fuck with me.
I’ve been media trained, which means I know better than to fight fire with fire, but they’ve already painted me as the bad apple of the PRI, so why not give them what they want?
They see me as a damn show pony with nothing but Miles' blood and secrets, but they need to learn I am more than meets the eye.
“Are you still cheating on your wife, Simons?” I toss back, making him blanch back in surprise, and the flashes of lights go insane, as he stumbles for what to say.
My heart is thrashing wildly in my chest, my hands gripping the podium so tight that I’m surprised it doesn’t crush beneath the weight of my hold, but it’s the only thing keeping me in place.
I feel like I might throw up, or at least throw the podium at someone, as I try and fail to inhale a full breath.
Still, despite the panic and anxiety, I keep my face blank, a slightly unnerving smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth, for the pictures that will no doubt be splashed on every news outlet before I go to bed.
“See, it’s not nice when someone puts their nose in your private business, is it?
” I joke, and I can see the surprise on all of their faces, as some of the more modest reporters laugh.
I don’t have to look at my dad to know he is cursing me out right now, but I have to tune them all out.
“This is PRI, I’m here to talk about my skills as a driver and the records I’m breaking, and making, not my family.
So, now we’re all clear on that, next question.
” The silence is deafening at first, and I almost curse myself, until one of the young female reporters shoots her hand into the air and I immediately nod at her. “Yes, Lola, go ahead.”
The girl looks surprised that I know her name, but swallows thickly before she asks, “How do you feel about being the first Miles to not only come first in Milan, but also be invited to the EWC in your rookie season?”
Her question has me smirking, as I flick my stare back to Simons.
“What a great question,” I drawl sarcastically, making them all laugh again, before giving her my full attention.
“Truthfully, I feel grateful. I know I’m good at racing, I know I worked hard to get here, but we all know talent and hard work aren’t always enough.
It takes so much more than that, so I’m grateful to my family for blessing me with the racing blood that runs through my veins.
I’m grateful to The Academy for giving me a place to hone my skills, and I’m grateful to my team for keeping me safe every step of the way.
I’m happy to be here doing what I love, and hopefully give PRI fans a good race, but make no mistake, I know I belong here.
My talent is mine, and I can promise you I will only get better, so you should all focus on me and not my brother. ”
The room is silent after my word vomit, and I shift uncomfortably, but keep my head held high. I honestly don’t care what they think about me, but I’m sick of them looking at me like I’m nothing more than my rookie status.
When I finally allow myself to look at Reed, he is smiling widely, and suddenly I feel like I can breathe again. I take a few more questions, all of them more inquisitive into my races and the skills I showed, and by the time I climb down from the podium, I feel more in control.
My dad is waiting for me at the exit and I prepare myself for his onslaught, but when I reach him, he only pats my back and gives my shoulder a squeeze.
“Good work, son, you put that prick in his place.” All I can do is nod, too surprised to respond, and instead head back in the direction of my changing room.
“Am I invisible now?” Reed asks, falling in line beside me as my father walks away, and I try not to react to his proximity.
The calming scent of cedarwood washes over me, and I breathe it in as deeply as I can.
“Is that a trick question?” I open the door of my changing room and resist the urge to shut him on the other side of it, because I’ve already held enough restraint when it comes to being enclosed in a room with him.
“I know your eyes are working at full capacity, because you called on everyone else just fine, so my only conclusion is that I’m invisible.” There is exasperation lining every single one of his words, and for some reason I enjoy knowing I am pissing him off.
I bite back my smirk, as I undo the top of my racing suit and peel it off my body. “You know, sarcasm really is beneath you, Lamont.” My eyes scan around looking for my pack of cigarettes, needing something to take the edge off.
“And being a childish, spoiled little dick is beneath you,” he snaps, making me pause, and I turn to look at him, cocking my head in amusement.
“Now come on, Blue, we both know my dick is anything but little.” I’m teasing and he knows it, but he doesn't so much as crack a smile.
“I’m serious, Wilder.”
“So am I.”
At that he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, as he starts muttering something that sounds a lot like ‘don’t quit’, and I sigh.
I feel his eyes follow me as I move to my bag in the corner, and rifle through it until I find what I’m looking for.
Once I have the small gift bag in hand, I cross the room and pass it to him.
He takes it from me skeptically. “What’s this, a bribe?”
I bite back another smile, slowly shaking my head. “No, it’s an apology, for the other day.”
At that he freezes, searching my stare for sincerity, but still clears his throat, before he responds. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he starts, but I shake my head and cut him off.
“No one likes a liar, Blue. I wasn’t just pushy, I was reckless without thinking about what’s truly at stake.” I glare at him until he nods, before moving his focus to the bag. “Now open my gift.”
“You’re so bossy.”
“I thought you liked that about me.” His blush is instant, but he ignores my flirting and reaches into the bag, pulling out a small black jewelry box. “Don’t worry, it’s not another necklace,” I joke, trying not to grimace at the memory of what happened to my last gift.
It’s actually a ring. A thin platinum band that is completely plain on the upper side, but decorated with a strip of black diamonds on the underside.
I found it when I was shopping a couple of days ago and was drawn to it instantly, not just because of the black diamonds, but because of how easily they can be hidden.
Reed will be able to wear it easily without it standing out or drawing unnecessary attention.
“Wild, I don’t even know what to say, it’s beautiful, but I can’t accept it.” He’s shaking his head, but his eyes tell another story entirely. He looks in awe of it, so I know I’m going to have to push him to take it.
“You can if you want me to answer any of your questions again.” His eyes snap away from the gift to meet mine in confusion. “Come on, Blue, you didn’t really think you were getting this for free, did you? If you’re gonna want something from me, then I’m going to want something from you.”
I watch as he swallows thickly. “And what do you want from me?”
Fuck. So many fucking things, Blue.
It takes every bit of restraint I have to not pull him toward me, consequences be damned, and take everything from him until he is ruined for anyone else. That’s what I want, what I need to function, but I know it’s the last thing he needs.
“I want you to be a good boy and wear the gift I bought you, and then maybe next time you raise your hand to be called on, you might get lucky.” I don’t know why he’s putting up a fight, he didn’t with the necklace, but I guess it cost him more than he was willing to give.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffs, as if he thinks I’m joking, and I ignore the feeling of rejection and force a bored smile to my face.
“It’s called incentive, Blue, you do something for me and I do something for you, it’s really quite simple.”
I see him contemplate what I’m saying for a few seconds, before he rolls his eyes. “Nothing is simple when it comes to you, Miles.”
That new and unfamiliar feeling that I get every time I talk to him comes rushing back, as my smile widens. “I find that offensive.”
“The world finds you offensive.”
Fuck, I love verbally sparring with him.
“Touché ,” I shrug, and he refocuses back on the ring, before he gives in and slides it onto his fourth finger on his right hand. “Perfect fit.” I try not to imagine the sight of it wrapped round my cock, as I clear my throat.
Reed only sighs, flexing his hand at the feeling of it, before he brings his eyes back to mine. “Sorry about that reporter out there, he’s a fucking dick, but you handled it great.”
His praise surprises me, that feeling in my chest warming. “Really?”
He nods before he smirks. “I mean, I would have preferred if you hadn’t outed his marital issues on live television, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
“So telling you Peter Simons is a waste of skin can’t be my official quote of the day then?” I ask, and he snorts a laugh that is like music to my ears, his smile finally meeting his eyes.
“Unfortunately not, Miles, no matter how true it may be.”
And the even worse truth is, that despite everything that has happened today, the good and the bad, the only thing that has made me feel better, is him.