Outlaw's Last Race Page 13

  “So what?” Nash says, then shakes out his hands. Good. It fucking hurt him, driving Lennox’s car into that wall. Serves him right.

  “You could have killed you both. If you hadn’t slowed down to take the turn into the alley . . .”

  “Whatever. Fuck him.” Nash spits in Lennox’s direction. “He had it coming. He’s got it coming still.”

  In the distance, Sleazy D is announcing the winners of the race—Jagger, followed by Miguel Calaveras, then Rory McManus. Drazic will be glad Jagger still pulled it off, but I can’t believe the gall of Nash. Risking his life, and Lennox’s, just to prove some stupid point. And their cars—I bury my face in my hands. We can’t afford to completely overhaul the body I spent so long on for the GTO. And if the McManuses put Nash and the crew on the hook to repair Lennox’s car, as well . . .

  “God dammit, Nash. You don’t even think about anyone else, do you? Just yourself.” I shove the heels of my palms into his chest to force him away from me. I don’t want his embrace. I don’t want him. “You had the lead. The race was totally yours. And it was more important to you to hurt him, to screw all of us over like this? Is revenge, staying stuck in the past, really so important to you?”

  “Shut up,” Nash snarls. “I can do what I want.”

  “The hell you can. Fuck you, Nash. You and me are done.”

  Nash stalks toward me, then pulls himself back at the last minute. The McManuses and Drazic and Cyrus have arrived, and all eyes are on us. But I don’t care. Let them see what a colossal fuckup Nash has become.

  “Fuck you, Elena. You always liked him better, anyway.” He glowers at Lennox. “Even though he’s a fucking murderer.”

  I gesture toward the heap of cars wedged against the alley wall. “And you were ready to become one, too.”

  Drazic charges forward to give Nash what I hope is an epic beatdown, while Lennox limps toward the McManus crew. Mama McManus says something that I don’t catch, but Lennox starts shaking his head rapidly. “No, seriously, it’s fine,” I overhear him say. “Please. Just let it go.”

  Cyrus catches me by the arm as I storm away. “Ellie. Are you gonna be okay?”

  “Do I look okay to you?” But I’m all wrung out. No more fight left in me. I sink into a warm hug from him. “I just don’t understand why it has to be this way.”

  “Me either.” His eyes narrow, watching the McManus crew huddle together. “And I’m afraid it’s only about to get worse.”

  15

  Elena

  I hop into my Camaro and drive back to Ridgecrest alone, restless with a furious energy that roils inside me like a thunderstorm. I am so beyond done with Nash. Right now I can’t even remember what attracted me to him in the first place. Maybe he’s right, and back when we first started dating, I really was just looking for someone to replace the Lennox-shaped hole in my heart. Well, he’s completely fucked that up now.

  He tried to kill Lennox. Not manslaughter—actual premeditated murder. Even though it’d make things worse for us with the McManus crew. Even though the last thing our crew needs is to lose one more member. I can’t believe he’d be so fucking selfish. It’s a miracle neither he nor Lennox were seriously hurt.

  And then Lennox—he just stood there and took it. Hell, he tried to cover for Nash with the McManuses. Why does he have to be so passive? So accepting of his fate, of his lot in life? All his bullshit about somedays, about trying to make things better—well, sorry, but I think his someday is what he makes of it, and I’m mad as hell that he’d push me away over it. He deserves better.

  And so do I.

  After a long, quiet drive down the ridgeline to clear my head, I auto-pilot down the mountain and find myself pulling into the driveway of Grandma Solt’s split-level house. God dammit. Of course my brain wanted to come here. The smart thing would be to stay away, especially now that there’s no way the McManuses don’t know now exactly who I am. But I’ve already given Nash a piece of my mind. I think it’s Lennox’s turn.

  The lower level’s lights are on, in what I remember as being the entertainment room. I remember lurking down there as a sixteen-year-old while Amber perched on Lennox’s lap and we watched cheesy horror movies for Halloween. I tried not to notice the kisses she’d sneak with Lennox when they thought I wasn’t looking. I tried so hard not to notice how deeply envious it made me feel.

  Fuck it. There’s no Amber Cartwright or anyone else around to stop me now. If Lennox won’t hear me out, then I’m going to be done with him, too.

  I slip out of the Camaro and knock on the ground-level window of the entertainment room. Lennox looms into view and cracks the window open. “Jesus, El. You scared me.” His mouth twitches as he studies me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I needed to see you again. Make sure you were all right.”

  Lennox fiddles with the latches, and the entire window casing swings open. I slide inside and land on the musty green carpet of the entertainment room. Poor Grandma Solt. Her house looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since Lennox went into prison. Drifts of paperwork, medical equipment, and old photo albums line the wood panel walls of the room, though I can see where Lennox has started to carve out space. There’s just enough around the pool table in the center for him to move around it, and a couple of freshly-stacked boxes rest by the door.

  That’s when it really hits me. He may be part of the McManus crew, but they’ll never be a family to him, not in the same way we were. I can remember picking his grandmother up from her surgery one time when Lennox’s asshole shift leader wouldn’t let him off work. I remember when they surprised him with a new transmission for his birthday. Or the time Jagger and Nash fixed a casserole from his grandmother’s recipe book one time when she was too sick to fix it herself, cheese and eggs everywhere, but somehow it turned out just fine. I can’t imagine Rory McManus ever doing the same for Lennox.

  “I’ll be fine.” Lennox scoops up a pool cue and returns to his game, which he apparently was playing against himself. “Dug the glass out of my arms, patched it up. Don’t even need stitches this time.” He offers me a goofy grin, but it comes off sad.

  “He tried to kill you, Lennox.”

  Lennox barks with sour laughter. “Yeah, well, he wouldn’t be the first.”

  He lines up a shot, but his arm shakes; the cue goes wild. The bandages along his arm flex and shift as he curses to himself. He looks like a disaster, even though I can tell from his damp hair and warm, cedary smell that he’s showered. As angry as I am, all I want to do is run my fingers through that hair.

  Lennox leans the pool cue up against the wall and turns back toward me with a sigh. Thoughts are warring on his face. He jams his hands down into his jean pockets and hunches his shoulders as he looks me over.

  “What do you want, Elena?” He exhales. “What is it that you really want? Because it can’t be some fuckup like me. That’s not what the Elena I know deserves.”

  I risk a step toward him. “But I do want you.”

  “And I warned you.” He shuffles toward me, keeping his hands in his pockets. I’m aching to feel his arms wrapped around me again, but he seems determined not to. “I won’t bring anything good into your life.”

  “But you don’t understand. You already have.”

  Lennox squeezes his eyes shut. His hands slide out of his pockets to form tense fists at his sides. The lean muscles of his forearms and his neck strain as he holds himself in place. If it were any other guy, I’d be frightened by his barely checked anger. But this is Lennox. I know he knows exactly how to contain it.

  “You need to leave,” he whispers. His eyes open, that dark brown aglow as he looks right at me. “Before I make another bad decision.”

  “What kind of bad decision?” I ask.

  “The kind where I say fuck the consequences,” he breathes. “And kiss you all over again.”

  I close the distance between us, grab one of his fists, and curl it around my waist. My breasts are pressed to hi
s chest now; my breath gusts against his collar. He whimpers softly and pulls me closer, looking down at me like I’m a work of art to him.

  “Do your worst,” I say.

  Lennox’s lips crush against mine, warm and soft and spiced with lust. I slide my hands under the thin white undershirt he’s wearing. His heart hammers against my palm, matching the motion of our mouths, surging together, hungering for each other. My tongue caresses his; my fingers trace his abdomen. Lennox shudders under my touch and rears back to catch his breath.

  “No more backing out,” I tell him, fumbling with the buckle of his belt. “Okay? I don’t care about the consequences. The circumstances. I just want to be yours.”

  He cradles my ass in his hands, reaching under the hem of my dress. His thumb traces the line between my thighs until it reaches my panties. “Sorry, El.” He grins. “You couldn’t get rid of me now if you tried.”

  I groan as his thumb finds its way to my center and coaxes me toward pleasure. He’s fire and ice, his touch so cool and enticing as his mouth heats me up, lips twisting against each other. He eases my panties to one side, and I slide my hips up onto the pool table, thighs widened to him.

  “I want you,” Lennox breathes. “I want to bend you over. See that beautiful ass in the air, that dark hair spilling down your back.”

  I bite my lower lip, hard, to stifle a moan. “So fucking take me already.”

  Lennox growls. Pulls me off the edge of the table. Then he spins me around, rough, and, gripping the back of my head, presses my face toward the soft green of the table. His hand holds me down as I hear him wrestle with his belt. I’m soaking wet, so ready and primed for him. But of course I am—he’s haunted my every fantasy since I was a teen.

  He shoves my dress up over my hips and peels my panties down. Cold air glides over my ass, exposed to him. Lennox laughs to himself, probably admiring the view. “Now there’s a sight I’ve been dying to see.” He swats at my ass. I flinch, a frisson of pleasure coursing through me. “And dying even more to feel.”

  “So let me feel it,” I growl. “Let me feel every inch of that cock.”

  He laughs again. “Careful what you wish for.”

  He teases the tip of his shaft against my clit. Electricity shoots through my core. “Yes,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. “Please. Please, Lennox.”

  “Well,” he murmurs, “since you asked so sweetly . . .”

  Lennox slides inside of me until he’s buried deep. He fits like we were made for each other. His hands run against my back, holding me down, as he leans back and slams into me again.

  “Perfect. You’re fucking perfect.” Lennox thrusts and retreats, and I feel every fucking inch of it, the friction driving me mad. Fuzzy white bliss is already crowding around my vision. It won’t take much to push me past the brink.

  His thrusts intensify. I’m pulsing around him, squeezing him like a fist. I can’t help it. The way he feels against me piques me in a way Nash never could. Already I’m standing on the edge of delirium, and it’ll only take a little more to send me tumbling—

  “I’m gonna come,” Lennox warns me. “Claim you as mine.”

  “Oh, god!”

  His nails dig into my hips as I tumble over the brink. Heat radiates from our joined bodies as my thighs, my legs, my feet, the tips of my fingers tingle with a tidal wave of ecstasy. I can’t imagine a moment more incredible than this—Lennox inside me, pleasure engulfing me, drowning me, catching me in his undertow. And I know, I fucking know, that I’ll never want anything else.

  Lennox slumps against me, and presses a soft kiss to the nape of my neck as we both gasp for air. “I love you, Elena,” he whispers.

  “Then stay with me.” I’m limp with pleasure beneath him. Nothing could be more perfect or blissful than this moment. “No matter what, stay with me.”

  He winces as he stands. “I want you to be sure you know what you’re asking. The McManuses aren’t nice people, El.” Moonlight glides over the notches of his muscles as he tugs his T-shirt back on. “And your uncle—I know how much he means to you.”

  “I know.” I draw a shaky breath. “Believe me, I know. But every danger, every argument—it’ll all be worth it, to share my life with you.” My voice trembles. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  A slow smile spreads across his lips. “If you’re sure . . .” He saunters back toward me and cups my face in his hands.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then I promise.” He kisses me just behind my ear, sending a fresh happy, exhausted thrill down my spine. “No matter what, I’m yours.”

  16

  Elena

  Lennox sneaks me past his grandmother’s room to his bedroom on the top level. He only has a full bed, shoved up against one wall between dusty bookshelves and a bulletin board full of old photographs, probably untouched since he went into prison. I recognize more than a few shots of our old crew, complete with one of Lennox, Nash, and Troy, arms slung around one another’s shoulders. I snapped that photo.

  Then, right next to a blank space that probably held a photograph of Amber Cartwright, is a photo of me. Surly, teenaged Elena with a baggy sweater and too-long bangs, glowering at the photographer with a sly grin. Trying to pretend I wasn’t madly in love with the photographer. That I wasn’t thrilled he would even think to snap a shot of me.

  I never could have imagined it would have ended up in the center of his bulletin board.

  Lennox digs an old T-shirt out of his drawers for me and I shrug into it. “Looks way better on you than it ever did on me.” He grins and tweaks my nose.

  “Yeah, I’m loving the knee-length T-shirt look. Do I turn you on like this?” I hold out the oversize shirt and shimmy for him.

  He laughs and wraps me in his arms. “Everything you do turns me on.”

  We fall into bed together and he keeps me firmly tucked in his embrace. I’m overwhelmed with emotion, suddenly, at how safe and contented I feel. Like this is what I’ve been searching for all along, and it’s only obvious to me now that I’ve found it. I hope Lennox feels the same way.

  “We’ll have to be careful,” he says into the darkness. “I’m sorry it has to be that way. But for now, it’s the best course.”

  I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Because of my uncle?” I ask.

  He sighs, breath warm against the back of my neck. “Because of the McManuses.”

  I wince and nestle deeper into his arms.

  “I warned you, I’m not a good man right now. I can’t get you mixed up in this.”

  “It’s fine. We’ll make it work. I’ll get a job somewhere else, we can start saving up, and then we can buy your way out of the McManuses’ debt.”

  “You’d do that? For me?” Lennox asks. “I—I can’t ask you to—”

  “Shh. You don’t have to. I want to.” I smile as sleep tugs my eyelids down. “And don’t worry about Uncle D or the rest of the crew. I think they’ll come around eventually. Once we can prove to them that you’re stable, that we can find our own two feet, then they have to accept us.”

  Lennox strokes my arm with one finger. “I’ll make it worth the effort. I swear. When you’re ready, I’ll talk to Drazic for you myself.”

  “No. I can do it.” Eventually. Even though it terrifies me. For once, it feels good to be in control of my fate.

  I turn to kiss Lennox once more, but he’s already asleep. I sigh, exhausted, too. Eventually, we can always be like this.

  “Eventually” being the key word, and the current source of my frustration.

  Things around Drazic Muscleworks are tense, and it’s not just me and the secret that I carry. Nash is staying away, wisely, after our permanent break-up. Otherwise I don’t think I could keep my cool. But the rest of the guys are walking on eggshells around me. They must have heard about my fight with Nash, and figure I have an ax to grind with them, too. I’m not ready to have that fight just yet, though I sense it’ll be coming soon enough. I don’t know how
long I can keep Lennox a secret.

  I can’t see Lennox for several days after the race. He’s busy doing “jobs,” the kind I know better than to ask for details about, and I haven’t had much in the way of chances to sneak away from the crew. Plus, I have my work cut out for me the day the tow truck shows up with what’s left of Nash’s GTO.

  I stare at the lump of once-great American muscle car up on the lifters and feel a fresh churn of anger at Nash. I’d built this car for him, after all. Made it out of love for him and the crew. And he went and wrecked it in the worst way possible—intentionally, out of desperation and some misguided sense of revenge. Part of me wants to leave it as the worthless heap of parts that it is. But another part of me knows it isn’t the car’s fault. The car doesn’t deserve to be abandoned, after all.

  Uncle Drazic is standing behind me as I survey all the parts that will have to be fixed, replaced, and swapped out. He claps one hand on my shoulder and purses his lips. “I’m really sorry, djevojka.”

  “No sorrier than I am.” I chuck the clipboard onto a nearby rolling cart. Several thousand dollars’ worth of repairs at the least. Probably into the five digits. “You sure it’s worth it?”

  He smiles sadly. “Don’t do it for Nash. Do it for me.”

  I huff out a deep breath, blowing a stray lock of hair out of my face. For Drazic. For my crew. Sure. I guess it’s the least I can do.

  I set to work, putting in orders for whatever we don’t already have in the shop, and tearing out the biggest components that need repairing first. Brakes are ground to shit, and the whole right side panels will have to be replaced where they crunched against Lennox’s Mustang. I can’t even imagine how the McManuses are treating Lennox now for getting their car wrecked.

  Or how they might be planning to repay the favor to us.

  I can’t wait until all of this blows over. The thought rings in my head, over and over, while I work. I want desperately to believe it will—that I can earn enough to allow Lennox to part ways with the McManuses, and that maybe Nash can get over himself and we can have our old crew back, be our family again. I’ll tell Drazic soon, when the timing is right. But I get why we have to play it safe now, really, I do. The proof is right in front of me of how badly things can go if I don’t wait for a sign that Drazic might be softening.