Chapter 1 – Remi
One
Remi
“?Hijo de puta!”
Metal slams into metal, the impact jolting through my baby so hard that it rattles my teeth. The rear end kicks out, tires screeching as we fishtail and the world swings sideways.
“Remi!” AJ braces herself against the dash.
“I’ve got it.”
I don’t lift off the gas because easing back now is exactly how I’ll lose control.
I lean into it, keeping a firm hand on the wheel as I countersteer and ride the slide, forcing the car back into alignment.
The engine snarls in response, sounding just as pissed off as I am, before we finally snap forward.
“Did you see that?” AJ asks, her dark hair whipping around her face, eyes wide and her smile even wider.
A year ago, when she first asked to ride with me, I hesitated, because three years before that, I nearly lost Valentina on the track, and I still didn’t know whether the people responsible were truly gone. If anything happened to AJ, I’d never forgive myself.
I should’ve known better than to worry.
Alessandra has Cain blood in her veins, and she’s just as addicted to speed as Val and me.
The only difference is that she prefers two wheels beneath her instead of four.
She’s damn good, too, already races competitively, and tomorrow, she’s off to Spain to train with a development team that could put her on the road to Moto3.
I’m proud of her, just like I’m proud of Val.
Sometimes, though, no matter how fast I drive, it feels like everyone around me is moving forward while I’m stuck in reverse. Val has Maksim and a new life in Russia, and AJ is leaving for Spain tomorrow. I’m happy for them, but I haven’t figured out what comes next for me.
“Check your mirrors, Rem.”
A blacked-out Camaro rides my flank, too close and too aggressive, trying to force me out.
Fucking rookie.
“You really wanna play?” I mutter.
“He’s been riding you since the last turn.”
“Yeah,” I say, shifting and pushing harder. “I noticed.”
AJ glances my way. “Are you sure? You seem a little...off.”
“Are you questioning my driving?” I ask, feigning offense.
The road ahead tightens, construction barriers closing in on both sides and leaving just enough space for one clean pass. And it's exactly what I need.
“Remi...”
“I said I got this.”
AJ grips the dash and the handle above her head, but I don’t have time to worry about her. The Camaro edges closer again, lining up for another hit. I ease toward him, letting him think he has me.
“Do it,” I whisper.
He takes the bait.
Steel collides again, the impact shuddering through the car, but this time, I’m ready. I drop a gear and bury the throttle. The turbo screams as we surge through the narrowing gap, leaving the Camaro scrambling for space until it clips the barrier and sends sparks across the pavement.
AJ twists in her seat. “Oh shit, he hit it!”
Adrenaline rushes through me, and I let out a wild laugh.
“Yes!”
The city stretches out ahead, and the finish line is only a few turns away. I already know I won’t catch the cars in front of me, but beating that asshole should be enough to have me grinning the rest of the night.
It isn’t.
Some days, racing still gives me the same high it always has. Other days, I cross the finish line and wonder why I don’t feel a damn thing anymore. This is one of those nights.
I pull into the lot and kill the engine. Usually, AJ would already be replaying every corner I took. Tonight, she just sits there.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Maybe the real question is what’s going on in yours?” she asks, turning to face me.
“Okay, you’re saying a lot without saying much. Spill it.”
AJ reaches over the center console and squeezes my hand. “Rem, I leave tomorrow, and I should be excited.”
“You should be.” I squeeze her hand back. “So what’s wrong?”
“I am excited. So damn excited.” She lets out a small laugh. “I just...feel guilty.”
I already know where this is headed, and I hate that she’s right.
“Val’s gone.” Her eyes find mine. “Now I’m leaving, too. And you’re going to be here by yourself.”
I force a smile.
“What? You think I can’t handle a bunch of overgrown men?”
She laughs.
“No. I know you’ll keep the guys in line.” Then her smile fades. “I just want to know you’ll be okay.”
Family has always meant something different to us.
We grew up knowing the people we loved would do whatever it took to protect each other, even if it meant getting blood on their hands.
There was never any judgment because none of us ever had to wonder who would be standing beside us when things went to shit.
Valentina and I have always been close, and despite the miles between us now, she’ll always be like a sister to me.
As AJ got older, she and I naturally gravitated toward each other, too.
Between late nights at my garage and weekends being reckless behind the wheel, she stopped feeling like my little cousin and became one of my closest friends.
The fact that my closest friends are also my cousins probably says something about my social life.
God, I really am that lame.
But trusting anyone outside my family hasn’t exactly worked out well for me.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, reaching into the glove compartment for my emotional-support lollipop. “You go to Spain and kick some ass.”
“You know I will.”
I pop the candy into my mouth, freeing my hands before pulling her into a hug.
“I’m proud of you, AJ.”
She wraps her arms around me and squeezes tighter.
“I love you, Rem.”
“Love you, too.”
Just like that, she grabs her bag and climbs out of the car, turning around to blow me a kiss before heading toward her bike.
The Camaro from earlier rolls up beside her as she pulls on her helmet.
I don’t wait to find out what they want. Shoving my door open, I cross the distance in a few quick strides and place myself between AJ and the car.
“Can I help you?”
The guy in the passenger seat lets his gaze drag from my face to my boots before making the slow trip back up, pausing briefly on the Glock riding my hip.
Losing the race apparently bruised more than his car, and now he needs to prove something.
Alessandra doesn’t need me to protect her. The girl has an itchy trigger finger and a rotating moral compass, but I’ll be damned if I let these assholes get close enough to find that out.
“Just came by to say...” He exhales a stream of smoke. “Nice driving.”
AJ nudges my shoulder as she steps up beside me. I rest a hand against her forearm, silently telling her to stay put.
“You should try using the steering wheel next time instead of my bumper.”
The corner of his mouth lifts around his cigarette.
“Fair.” He flicks it onto the pavement. “Catch you next time.”
They take off before anything else can be said, leaving me with an uneasy feeling I can’t quite explain. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, and they’re just your regular assholes. But we’ve been through too much to let our guard down, even all these years later.
“What was that about? You know them?”
I shake my head, still watching the street where their taillights disappeared.
“No. Never seen them at Furia before today.”
“KXZ-4187,” she says.
“You caught the plate.”
I look at her, impressed but not even a little surprised.
“Of course.” She shrugs. “You did too.”
I cup her face and plant an exaggerated kiss on her forehead, making her laugh. AJ will be okay.
“Get home. Text me when you get there.”
She blows me one last kiss before climbing onto her bike and heading down the opposite street from the Camaro.
Then it’s just me.
People still fill the lot, and another race is already starting beyond the crowd, but none of it keeps my mind occupied for long. AJ was right. Val is in Russia, she’ll be in Spain tomorrow, and I’m going home alone.
I know what happens when I give myself too much time to think. The grief comes first, followed by memories I’ve spent years trying not to revisit and tears that still find me some nights.
“I need to move.”
I jump back into my car, fire up the engine, and peel out, cranking the music loud enough that I won’t have to think about any of it.
My fingers drum against the steering wheel as I hum along with the bass thumping through the speakers, but the car suddenly stumbles beneath me.
“What the fuck?”
The throttle feels sluggish under my foot.
“Come on...”
Easing off the gas, I roll back into it. The response is delayed, followed by a sharp cough from the exhaust. A second later, the check engine light flickers to life. Of course it does.
I glance down at the gauges.
Oil pressure is fine.
Coolant temperature is steady.
Fuel sits just under half a tank.
Another violent shudder rattles through the chassis.
“This is just fucking perfect.”
The impact from the Camaro must have knocked something loose. That son of a bitch.
I flip on my hazards and guide her onto the shoulder just as the first fat drops of rain splatter across my windshield. By the time I throw the car into park, the sky opens up.
“Oh, great,” I mutter.
Popping the hood, I step into the downpour, already reaching for my flashlight. Rain soaks through my shirt within seconds as I scan the engine bay, checking hoses, clamps, wiring, and belts for anything out of place.
“Talk to me, baby.”
Another flash of lightning splits the sky, followed by a low rumble of thunder as I work through the obvious possibilities first. Everything looks exactly where it should be.
“Come on. Give me something...”
I grab my toolkit from the trunk and get to work. Fifteen minutes turn into twenty, and I’m no closer to figuring out what the hell is wrong. Water drips from the end of my nose as I wipe my hands on my jeans, smearing grease across the soaked denim.
“You’ve got jokes tonight, huh?”
There goes my evening. I was already looking forward to a hot shower, a movie playing in the background while I scrolled aimlessly, and maybe finally trying out that little toy Val mailed me last week.
I laugh under my breath.
“Always looking out for me.”
Thinking about her makes me realize how much I fucking miss her.
I’m happy she found the kind of love she has with Maksim because she deserves every bit of it. I just wish a small, selfish part of me didn’t miss when it was just the two of us against the world, convinced we could burn the whole damn thing down.
“She’ll be back soon,” I murmur, leaning over the car again as I resist the urge to take a crowbar to this bitch.
At this point, I’m going to have to call a fucking tow truck. I reach for my back pocket and find nothing.
“No...”
I check my other pocket, then hurry around to the driver’s side and yank the door open, hoping my phone slipped onto the seat or landed in the center console instead of ending up in AJ’s bag.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I slam the door shut and brace my hands on the roof, letting the rain soak me to the bone as I try to get my frustration under control.
“Okay, Remi...get it together. Suck it up. You got this.”
Pushing off the chassis, I tear open my toolkit. What’s a little rain? Everything’s still exactly where it’s supposed to be, just…wetter. I lean over the engine again and reach for another wrench.
Maybe I’m off my game, or maybe the storm is so loud that it swallows every other sound, because I never hear a car pull up or boots crossing the pavement. I only realize I’m not alone when a presence beside me makes itself known.
Every possibility runs through my head at once. Who walks up on someone in the middle of a downpour, in the dark, without saying a goddamn word? One thing my family made sure I learned early on is that hesitation gets people killed. If someone means to hurt you, they only need one chance.
In the next heartbeat, I draw my Glock, chamber a round, and aim center mass...at the biggest fucking chest I’ve seen in a long while.
“Whoa, whoa! I’m just here to see if you needed any help,” he says, his voice edged with the slightest Texan drawl.
I don’t lower the gun.