Текст книги "Falling Away"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

CHAPTER 16

JAXON

I sat on the hood of my car, earbuds in and listening to Apocalyptica’s “I’m Not Jesus,” while I stared at the layout of the tracks on the iPad.

The dirt and sweat were gone. I’d showered when I got home from the carnival, scrubbed my skin till it was red and washed my hair twice, but I still couldn’t sit still. There was still dirt under my nails.

“What have you done?”

I tapped my foot, feeling the weight of my phone in my pocket.

Don’t call her. Don’t text her. She’s coming. She said she would.

And as soon as I saw her, got a chance to wrap my arms around her little frame, I’d forget the way her mother had looked at me. I’d forget the knife in my other pocket, the one that said I’d hurt anyone who made me feel dirty again.

She could touch me. She could touch any part of me, and that was it. Just her.

So I swallowed the jagged pill in my throat and gripped the iPad, forcing myself to focus. The Loop. The track. The money.

“Heads up!”

I jerked my head, seeing Fallon just in time to catch the water bottle she tossed. Holding it up and offering a tight smile, I watched her smile in return and walk back to Madoc, who leaned against his car, waiting for the races to start.

About a year ago, I had started working with Zack Hager, the Racemaster, who’d run races here on Friday and Saturday nights. Things were amateur back then. Mostly local high school kids racing their fancy toys that Mommy and Daddy had bought them around an unstable dirt track. My brother, Madoc, and Tate had all raced here during that time. They were illegal events on private property that everyone knew about but no one cared to stop.

And why would they? It was boring as hell.

For me, anyway. It was like watching NASCAR. Left turn, left turn, left turn. Guess what’s next. Yeah, left turn.

But cars interested me. Racing definitely interested me. So Zack and I had pooled our resources and stepped up the game. High school races Friday nights. College-and-beyond races Saturday nights. We struck a deal with Dirk Benson, the farmer on whose land the track sat, and got permission to pave it. Only instead of being a rounded square circling a pond, the track now had kind of a Hershey’s Kiss–looking top. We’d included the long driveway leading into the track as part of the race now. Drivers did their turn around the track and ended by racing to the end of the driveway, skidding to a turn, and racing back to the finish line.

We’d also constructed another dirt track through the forest between his farm and the highway and incorporated off-roading races as well. Sometimes they ran simultaneously, but we usually tried to keep them separate.

Best of all, the races were almost fully legal—except for the betting—and now they were wired in as well. GoPro cameras were installed on all the vehicles before the races so viewers could access footage on their phones and iPads with the Web Site I’d created. This feature was especially important for the off-road races where the viewers couldn’t venture.

Zack took care of scheduling drivers, making sure they signed our disclaimer forms, and the money. I took care of the tech stuff, planning new events, and alterations to the track.

After all, this would eventually get boring, too, so things had to keep changing.

And thankfully this kept me busy. During the school year, when I attended college, my class load, plus the track, was enough to keep me out of trouble. The fall and spring were my safest times. School was in session, and the weather was good for racing. The winter and summer were shaky. Either school was out or the track was dead.

My leg vibrated, and I inhaled a deep breath before looking down.

I blinked long and hard, my stomach turning as I dug out my phone.

Yeah.

My father called regularly, and I did nothing to stop him. Jared didn’t know, his mom, Katherine, didn’t know, and I wasn’t running from the bastard.

I answered the phone. “You’re boring me,” I said right away. “Come find me when you get out, and we’ll have a real conversation then.”

“That may be sooner than you think.”

A bad taste filled my mouth, but I tried to keep my face even as I swallowed.

“Good,” I replied. “I still play with knives.”

I heard his quiet laugh on the other end of the phone line.

I had no idea how he called me. I could find out if I wanted to, but for some reason, I didn’t want to keep him away. I’d never try to avoid him. I wanted him to avoid me.

“I only want what I’ve always wanted,” he stated. “A chance to make amends. I raised you, Jax. I’d like to show you that I’m better than I was.”

“No, you want me to take care of you,” I shot back. “You’re not using me to pay your way. Not anymore, you sick fuck.”

When I was little, my father used me—and Jared—to make money. Stealing, breaking and entering … A kid could get in where an adult couldn’t, and my father knew that.

“You forget, you little shit,” he growled, and my stomach rolled with the memories his insults invoked. “I know where your mess is buried.”

But his threat didn’t hit home, because I made damn sure I’d always have the upper hand.

“And you forget,” I countered, “that I’m not a kid anymore.” I jumped off the hood and strolled around to the door, tossing the iPad through the open window onto a seat. “There’s a guy in there with you. Christian Dooley. You got a beating from him, right?”

The phone was silent, so I continued. “Just happened to be right after the last time you threatened me?” I taunted, knowing my meaning was clear. “Threaten me again, and you won’t make it out of those doors alive.”

And I hung up, putting my palms down on the roof of my Mustang and lowering my head.

He wasn’t a man, I told myself. I was strong. I was worthy. And I was clean.

I could feel the sweat on my brow cooling me as the light wind hit it, but now my back was nearly drenched, and I wanted to rip off my shirt.

It was after eight, but the day’s sunlight still warmed the air. It had to be over ninety degrees.

“I know where your mess is buried.” My hands shook, and I clenched my fists.

The mess I’d made the day I’d had enough. Enough of the hands touching me. Enough of people looking at me and hurting me. Enough of being weak. My only regret was that I didn’t bury my father with them.

I had come a long way from that scared kid. I never wanted to be weak or surprised in any relationship or situation, and so I’d assumed absolute control over everything in my life.

But as much as I’d never wanted to feel like that unclean kid again, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dirt on my skin. I took two showers a day. I had someone clean my house twice a week. I always counteracted one shitty thing I said or did with two decent things, like volunteering or donating money, but I still felt unclean.

Nothing was clean enough.

“Well, you got me here.”

I raised my head at the sound of her voice and twisted around to see Juliet.

She stuck her hands in the pockets of her seriously faded, ripped, and tight jeans, and my chest filled with amusement at the sight of her loose black tank top that hung low in the back but showed off her belly button in the front. It had one of those “Keep Calm” logos, but instead it said “I will not keep calm. I will raise hell and break shit.”

My father was forgotten.

“I’m not a fan of this scene,” she admitted with a glint of humor in her eyes, “so if I’m still bored in an hour, Shane and Fallon promised me we could leave and go back to the carnival.”

“You think that’s more fun?” I challenged, sauntering over to her.

She nodded. “Oh, yes.”

I smiled, unable not to touch her anymore. Reaching out and taking her hand, I pulled her into me as I leaned back against the car.

“I’ve got a carnival ride for you.” I leaned into her lips. “Open all night,” I whispered, taking her lips in mine and wrapping my arms around her waist.

I heard her snort at my lame joke, but I was smiling, too.

She tasted like water. Every time I’d kissed her it had been like that. As if I was so thirsty I sucked in gulp after gulp, realizing how much my body needed this and how I felt soothed the more I drank.

I reached up and cupped her face with one hand, diving into her mouth and working my tongue around hers. Holding on to her, I molded her hips to mine and felt her moan against my lips. I slipped my hand inside her shirt under her arm, feeling the bare skin of her back. So smooth. Like cream.

“Jax,” she gasped, trying to pull away, “we’re in public.” I knew she didn’t want to stop, but she was embarrassed.

I normally would have been, too. I didn’t do PDAs, but with her? Hell yeah.

I looked down at her, not letting go. “I know. I just want to touch you all the time. Now that you’re letting me, it’s hard to stop.”

Her hair hung loose and smooth, straightened and parted in the middle. Her green eyes sparkled under dark eye shadow, and I was glad her lips were clear of lipstick. She had full light pink lips, and they were perfect the way they were.

She smirked happily. “Touch me all the time,” she repeated. “But we don’t get along.”

“We get along great.” I grinned. “As long as you don’t talk.” And I leaned down, snatching up her lips again.

She laughed and tried to push away from me, her back bending and her head falling back, but I held tight.

“Stop!” She giggled and squirmed as I kissed a trail up her neck. I loved seeing her giddy.

“Stop talking,” I scolded, still kissing her. “We get into trouble when you speak.” And I took her earlobe in my teeth, sucking hard, and she went limp.

“I feel like I’m falling,” she admitted through her breathlessness, standing up straight and taking my hands away. “But it feels good.”

I cocked my head and folded my arms over my chest. “Are we putting K.C. away so Juliet can come out to play?” I joked.

She mock-scowled at me. “Juliet’s not any more docile, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

I licked my lips. “I don’t care who it is that gets naked for me, just as long as I get her again.”

Her eyebrows did a nosedive, she let out a disgusted breath, and whipped around, stalking off, and I was sure my face was red with laughing so hard.

Man, I loved to piss her off. I loved the foreplay. And I was going to enjoy backing her into a wall later on and convincing her she wanted to spend the night.

Madoc stalked over, holding Fallon’s hand, looking back at Juliet and then to me.

And he started singing Foreigner. “ ‘I want to know what love is! I want you to show me!’ ”

“It’s scary that you know that song,” Fallon grumbled.

I watched as Juliet walked over to Shane. They were looking at a car that had its hood propped up, but I saw her peek over at me out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t hide it. She pursed her lips together in a smile and rolled her eyes at me.

She was taking me as I was and loosening up—and I wasn’t thinking about my father, the Loop, or anything but her.

We were both falling.

Walking down the line, I checked cars off on the roster on my iPad, making sure they were present and ready.

“Suited up?” I inquired, looking down at Derek Roman, who was fixing a GoPro on the trunk of a Raptor.

He stood up, gesturing. “You tell me. Can you access it?”

These cameras couldn’t stream footage live from long distances, but I could access it on my phone. I waved, picking myself up on the screen of my cell.

“You got it,” I said. “You’re getting pretty fast at that.”

He smiled, looking too much like a five-year-old who just got a pat on the head.

“Faster means more races,” he pointed out. “More races mean more bets. And more bets—”

“Mean more money,” I finished, shaking my head. “Yeah, I know where your heart lies.” I jerked my head and walked off. “I need to check in with Zack. See you in a minute.”

He turned back to his work, and I grinned, actually surprised that he was becoming an asset.

Derek Roman was a couple of years older, but you wouldn’t have known it in high school. He used to race the Loop, but his antics got him in a lot of trouble. He didn’t get along with Jared, when they raced, or anyone else. He was careless, sloppy, and aggressive, exactly the kind of driver I didn’t want here.

So instead of banning him and waiting for the retaliation that would eventually come, I played it smart.

I kissed his ass.

Bullies want to matter. They act the way they do because they don’t feel important.

So I gave him that. Told him how much we had planned and what kind of undertaking it all was. How much I needed help, and how much I needed someone who knew the Loop inside and out, and then I gave him jobs.

He stayed busy, got special perks, and got his name officially listed on our Web site, any advertising, and he was involved in decisions. Now, if he decided to be stupid, he’d have a lot to lose.

“So.” Madoc ran up next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder. “Could you possibly fit me into the schedule?”

“Tonight?”

I could feel his eyes roll as I worked my way through the crowd up to the announcer’s stage, and he fell in behind me.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I want to do that couples race you’ve got going on. Fallon loved riding with Jared that time he and Tate raced, and I want to take my wife out.”

I ran my hand over the top of my head, letting out a frustrated sigh as I stopped next to the stairs.

I turned, looking at him. “Do you have any idea how far in advance these races are scheduled now? It’s not high school anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do I need to kick your ass?”

I dropped my gaze, smirking. Yeah, Madoc and Jared were old favorites here, but things were a hell of a lot different now. Whereas they had to contend with three or four races a night, we now had ten to fifteen, and some going simultaneously.

“I’m not saying that.” I moved away from the stairs, seeing Zack—the Racemaster—climb down from the podium.

“Hey,” I greeted Zack, and gestured over toward the track. “Roman’s going to send off the rally race, so can you make sure Sam knows to get his ass out first with the camera before they take off this time?”

“Sure.” He nodded and slapped Madoc on the arm. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Madoc answered but kept his eyes on me, waiting for me to get my reality check.

“Okay.” I laughed after Zack had walked off. “Of course I can fit you in.” I lowered my voice and arched an eyebrow before continuing. “Even though everything is scheduled down to the minute, and you’re messing with my timetable right now. But okaaaay.”

He smiled, teeth flashing bright white, nudging my arm. “Thanks, dude!” And then walked off.

“You need an opponent,” I called after him.

He turned, slipping his hands into his jeans. “I know,” he replied.

But I didn’t like his smile as he walked away.

For the next half hour, we got through five races—two rallies off track and three on. Once the cars were suited up and races began, my job got easier. I sat up in the podium running the cameras, alternating angles for the viewers so they always had exciting perspectives when they were on the site. Once in a while, I’d have to go and help with the cameras or the cars, because something wasn’t working, but Zack handled setting off the cars, and he, Roman, and a few others handled the bets.

It was easy and comfortable. Up here. Alone. With a clear view of the action below.

“Hey.”

I turned around and saw Cameron, stepping up the last stair, carrying a red Solo cup. She was dressed in a black miniskirt and a red flannel shirt tied above her belly button with the sleeves rolled up.

“Hey.” I leaned back against the small table, crossing my arms over my chest.

She came up next to me, looking down at the crowd silently. Everyone was enjoying whatever they’d brought in their coolers while Rob Zombie’s “Never Gonna Stop” played over the speakers.

I rubbed my fingers against my palms as I clenched my fists. My hands were actually sweating, and I didn’t understand why—after five years of knowing Cameron—I was suddenly uncomfortable.

The thick silence hung there between us, and I searched my brain for something to ask her. College? No, she wasn’t going. Her old foster parents? Maybe.

She broke the silence before I could. “Well, this is fun.” Her nervous laugh seemed so out of place.

“Yeah,” I muttered, wondering why the hell I felt uneasy.

She looked at me, her eyes serious. “So I’ve finally lost you, haven’t I?”

I swallowed, not knowing exactly what she meant but definitely noticing the difference.

“Never,” I said thoughtfully. “I’m always your friend.”

“But I’m not the only woman you love anymore.”

I dropped my eyes, my lips curling on a hidden smile. I did love Cameron. She was the only girl I’d really talked to. But while we were very much the same, my heart never held her close. She was a friend. Someone I could trust and someone who would stand up for me.

But after she’d leave for the night, I didn’t think about her, and I didn’t count the minutes until I could see her again.

She stood up straight, shrugging. “I know it’s not like that with us. Not love-love, per se,” she clarified. “But we were each other’s firsts. No matter who I hooked up with, you were always ten times more important.”

I flattened my lips, feeling guilty that it was different for me.

We’d both lost our virginity long before we met each other, but we always considered each other our real first.

Since our first sexual experiences weren’t something we wanted to remember.

We were there for each other, and I loved her.

But there was a girl who was more important for me, and it had been that way for a long time. A very long time.

She continued. “It never even occurred to me that it would be hard when you finally replaced me in your heart.”

I looked down to the track, seeing Juliet sitting on the bleachers with Shane, Fallon, and … One Direction.

I blew out a breath. “I have no heart. You know that.”

She shook her head, tears pooling. “You suck,” she joked.

“Why?” I grinned. “Because I’m letting another girl have some summer fun with me?”

“No,” she blurted out. “Because you’re keeping her to yourself.”

My chest shook with laughter as I yanked her in by the neck and kissed her forehead. Her blond hair, hanging in a high ponytail, smelled like overripe strawberries. I glanced down at Juliet, thinking of her hair that smelled like a crisp fall morning.

And she was looking up at me.

Shit.

Her eyes were narrowed as she rested her elbows on her knees and watched me with my arm around Cameron.

I sighed, pulling away. “I’ll see you, okay?”

I left Cameron and climbed down the ladder, facing forward as I jumped the last five steps to the ground.

Girls liked to make a mountain out of a molehill, so now I had to go put out the damn fire she’d no doubt started in her head.

As I approached the bleachers—where she sat two rows up—I noticed Shane sitting next to her, talking to friends on her other side, while Madoc, Fallon, and Adam stood up, talking to a group of people.

She saw me and looked away, straightening her back. I set my foot on the bottom bleacher and leaned in next to her face.

“Don’t,” I cautioned, looking in her eyes.

She dropped her chin, looking almost sad. God, I wanted to wrap my arms around her.

“Don’t what?” she mumbled.

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not,” she maintained, looking defiant.

I nearly whispered. “Three years ago, I laid eyes on you for the first time,” I said, “and every time I’ve looked at another girl since then, I’ve compared her to you. Every time.”

She raised her eyes hesitantly.

I gave a half smile. “Your big green eyes that give away everything you’re feeling. Your pouty little mouth that tells me when you’re happy or pissed.” I leaned in, close to her lips. “And your tight little body that I finally got my fucking hands on after years of waiting for you.”

Her throat moved up and down as she listened.

“I have lots of energy for you, Juliet—only you—so don’t go imagining shit that’s not true.”

No more bullshit. I always knew what I wanted, and I never failed at getting it. I had an appetite for a lot, but when I found my niche, I knew it. Lacrosse, computers, the Loop …

And Juliet. She was my niche, too.

When her lips pursed against a smile she desperately tried to hold back, I knew she’d relaxed.

“Keep your eyes open,” I whispered.

A confused look crossed her face right before I dived in, caught her lips in mine, and kissed her deep and soft. My tongue flicked over hers, owning her mouth. She was helpless against me, and I was absolutely fine with that.

I pulled away to nuzzle in her ear. “You drive me crazy.”

She shivered, breathing hard. “Good.”

I smiled, continuing to trail my lips over her jaw.

“Jax.” I heard Madoc’s voice off to the side. “Adam’s going to race me in his 370Z, okay?”

I stopped, my lips hovering over Juliet’s skin.

Standing up, I turned and saw all three of them looking at me and waiting. “What’s the point of that?” I scoffed.

Madoc’s face fell, and I saw the eyebrow shoot up as he realized I was insulting his friend’s car. A GTO against a 370Z? He knew better.

“Juliet?” Madoc averted his eyes to her, ignoring me. “It’s a couple’s race. You want to ride with him?”

I turned around completely, facing him. “Enough already,” I growled low. “I’m sick of your bullshit.”

Everyone clammed up, and I struggled between feeling bad that I was getting pissy with my friends, feeling shitty that I was determining for Juliet what she would and would not be doing, and being angry that every time I felt fucking high on life, someone or something messed with it.

Adam stepped forward. “If I’m supposed to have a girl in the car—”

“You can have a guy, too,” I shot back. “Love is love. We don’t discriminate.”

Fallon snorted, and Madoc scowled down at her.

I bit back my smile, locking eyes with Madoc. “She’s not going.”

I heard Juliet clearing her throat behind me, but I ignored it. Would she be okay with me taking another girl for a drive?

Madoc held out his hands. “Shane won’t do it. I asked,” he explained. “I’m honestly not trying to get under your skin, okay?”

“Relax.” Adam stepped forward, and I folded my arms over my chest. “It’s obvious Madoc set me up with a girl who’s already taken. I’ll keep my hands off. I promise.”

“That’s right.” I nodded. “Because she won’t be in the car. You’re not a screened driver, and she could get hurt. You want to mess up your ride. Go ahead. But not with her in it.”

“Jax,” Juliet said under her breath behind me, and I could tell she was trying to rein me in.

Yeah, no.

Fallon spoke up. “So, how about Madoc takes K.C….” She paused, shaking her head clear. “Juliet, I mean—and I’ll go with Adam.”

“No,” Madoc maintained. “This is supposed to be you and me riding together.”

Fallon pulled her hair up in a ponytail. “Baby, if this is the only way, he’ll let her—”

“I’ll go,” Juliet groaned, climbing down from the bleachers. “I’ll go with Adam.”

I dropped my arms, staring down at her like a warning.

She cut me off before I started. “Just be quiet for a minute. It’s a three-minute race.” She peered up at me, handling me. “Let Madoc have his fun and calm down. The guy’s car is pretty intense. I’m sure he knows how to handle it.”

I steeled my jaw, not liking her talking about his ride. “You’re trying to make me feel better, right?” I joked. “I mean, that is your goal? Because it’s not working.”

She laughed into my chest. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“He can go alone,” I said, annoyed. “I make the rules, and I choose when to break them.”

“You’re being silly.” She started to back away toward the cars. “Especially when you’re the one I might let take me home tonight,” she teased.

“Might?” I shot out. “I really don’t like you sometimes.”

“I don’t like you, either,” she singsonged, walking toward Adam’s car.

“Shit,” I breathed out, raking a hand through my hair and watching her head to Adam’s car. Was I being silly?

He wouldn’t touch her if he knew what was good for him, and she wouldn’t let him. I trusted that.

And I’d be absolutely fine with Jared or Madoc driving with her. It wasn’t that I never wanted her to be on the track.

No, I was simply worried he’d get her hurt. I didn’t know him or his driving, and I was real damn unhappy about this.

Both cars roared to life, filling the air with the whir of Adam’s high-pitched 3.7-liter engine and the heavy rumble of Madoc’s 6.0 LS2. I didn’t breathe as I watched Juliet buckle herself in, her black-and-white feather earrings dangling against her neck.

I breathed out a sigh, heading back down the track. I swung myself around the stairs and jogged up to where Zack already stood, ready to announce the next race. Both cars traveled slowly down the track, coming to a stop below us, revving their engines.

“We need to meet this week,” Zack said to me as he inspected the scene below. “I want to talk about your plans to expand to street racing. I’m concerned.”

I gripped the railing, watching every movement of Adam’s ride. “Not now.” I shook my head. “That’s at least a year out. We’ll talk later.”

The crowd cheered, welcoming one of their favorite sons home. So many people remembered Madoc, and everyone flooded the night with noise. The crowd at the Loop used to be mainly high school students, but now it was more eclectic, and since it was summer, a lot of our high school friends were here.

“Announce it,” I said to Zack. “Madoc Caruthers and Adam One Direction.”

He laughed under his breath. “This is an odd matchup.”

I nodded, knowing it wasn’t really a race. Madoc had to know he was going to win.

Zack leaned on the railing, microphone in hand, booming voice hitting the crowd. “I know you all remember him!” he taunted, and the crowd cheered.

“If you don’t, then I know you’ve heard of him!” Zack’s deep voice echoed through the night air, and they shouted louder.

People held up their cups and cans, howling over the track. The GTO shook as it revved, while the 370Z’s high-pitched hum matched it, both drowning out any coherent thought in my head.

“Give it up for Madoc and Fallon Caruthers,” he sang out, going long, “going up against K. C. Carter and Adam One Direction!” he yelled.

The sea of spectators cheered, holding up their phones and iPads, probably taking either pictures or video. Since the couples’ races were only once around the paved track, we never installed GoPros. No reason to dumb down the audience. They had a perfect view anyway, so it worked.

“Come on,” I nudged. “Get this over with.”

He walked around me to my other side, lining up with the starting line. “Ready!” he shouted, and the stoplight stayed on red. “Set!” And the stoplight switched to yellow, the engines revving over and over again as the crowd went wild. “Go!” he roared, and my heart leaped into my throat as both cars saw the light change to green and spun their tires, trying to take off so quickly.

I swallowed, seeing Madoc shoot off first, and I gripped the railing, watching the 370Z speed after him. Both cars gained speed, and I listened for the change of gears, hearing when each shifted up, increasing its pace.

Madoc knew the track, knew when to speed up, and knew at exactly which point he needed to lay off the gas to round the turn effectively. He spun around, drifting into a slight skid, but I gritted my teeth, seeing Adam fishtail left and then right as he corrected himself.

I rubbed my hand over my face, walking around the stand, following them with my eyes as they circled the track. Adam would speed forward, and Madoc would swerve on the track, joking around to stay in his way.

I’m going to kill him.

Zack laughed next to me. “Madoc’s back.”

“He’s being stupid,” I bit out. “Pulling that shit with his wife in the car …”

“And Madoc’s never been in an accident. Calm down.”

Madoc straightened out after that, so I let it go. He was stupid, but I guessed not that stupid.

But my stomach tightened every time Adam tried to get around Madoc but lost time spinning out. He could never get ahead, simply because he was flooring it between turns.

As he rounded the third turn and swerved to a gentle right up the driveway that served as the extended track, I narrowed my eyes, watching like a hawk.

Almost over.

They’d go down to the end, skid to a turn, and race back down to the finish line.

But then my chest flooded with fear, and I could barely breathe.

“Son of a bitch!” I raged, seeing that Adam’s car had lurched forward, twice the speed it had just been going.

“Fuck!” I spun around, barreling down the stairs and pushing through people. “Get out of the way!”

I raced down the track, empty except for the hundred or so spectators lining the sides. I could hear some guys behind me, running with me, but we all stopped when we got in view of the driveway. Madoc’s car had halted at the end of the lane while Adam’s back end sank into a ditch.

I took off, pounding down the track, full speed, until I came to the car and caught him climbing out.

“Are you insane!” I bellowed, grabbing him by the shirt and holding him up to me.

“Jax, stop!” Juliet urged, stepping out of the car. “I’m okay.”

But when I looked at her, she was rubbing her neck. I didn’t see blood.

“No, you’re not,” I growled, throwing Adam to Zack and Derek. “I knew this was a stupid idea. Hold him.”

They secured both of his arms, holding him, and I shook my head at Madoc, who’d come up with Fallon. I didn’t want one word from him right now. He’d said enough tonight.

I dived into Adam’s car, took his keys out of the ignition and popped the hood. Lifting it up, I reached down and grabbed hold of the red-and-blue nozzles I knew I was going to find there.

“Son of a bitch,” I cursed, anger flooding my body.

Zack and Derek dragged Adam over.

“Nitrous,” Zack mumbled to himself, sounding just as pissed at seeing the nozzles. Somewhere in the car, probably the trunk, a tank of the chemical was hidden.

I arched an eyebrow at Adam. “Failed to mention that?”

He shook his head, blowing me off. “I’ve done it lots of times, man. I just didn’t expect it to take so long to slow back down. I’m sorry.”

I reared back, hammering my fist across his face. He crumbled, Zack and Derek holding him up by his limp arms.

“Jesus Christ,” Madoc sighed, sounding done for the night.

I slammed the hood shut, throwing the keys against his chest, where they fell to the ground. “Get out of here.”