Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) (13 page)

And yet, there it is.

Time slows to a sinister crawl as Harrison and Enzo’s cars
slam together, crunching sickly in an eruption of metal and glass. The impact
spins Harrison out across the track, and he struggles to gain control of his
vehicle. But Enzo doesn’t even have that option. At once, his car turns onto
its nose and flips over, skidding across the track toward the concrete barrier.
Harrison loses his fight against momentum just as Enzo succumbs to his own
inevitable trajectory. In one moment that will be blazed into my memory for as
long as I live, the two cars slam against the unforgiving wall. The grating
crash that rings out through the air is absolutely unearthly, and for a second,
I tell myself that I must be having some surreal nightmare. What I’m witnessing
can’t possibly be true.

But reality floods in with the incredulous gasp of the
spectators. This is really happening. The edges of my vision begin to darken as
the scene before me dissolves into chaos. Blaring sirens ring out across the
track as emergency vehicles join the race cars on the track. Dark, oily smoke
begins to billow up from the site of the crash, cloaking the scene beneath the
crisp blue sky hanging overhead. A frenzied murmur rises up from the stands as fans
crane their necks to get a good look at the wreckage. Around me, the Ferrelli
pit goes into panic mode, and I feel my limp body get jostled out of the way.

Before I can even say a word, I slip into dark, dreamless
unconsciousness. Faced with the ultimate worst case scenario, my mind and body
can’t stand to carry on. I’m vaguely aware of the other cars that race on ahead
of the wreck, but can’t even begin to register something as inconsequential as
the outcome of a race right now. I don’t even feel myself hit the ground as the
pit uncoils into chaos around me, rallying for Enzo. If I’m lucky, I’ll wake up
from this terrible dream, emerge unscathed on the other side...but no amount of
wishful thinking can fix this. Nothing can ever make this OK—my legs give out
beneath me, and as I finally pass out, that is the only thing in the world I
know to still be true.

For a moment, just before I open my eyes, my mind is
peaceful. I must be asleep in my hotel room, I reason. I’m about to begin
another day on the F1 circuit, wrangling press and shaping narratives like the
professional I am. Everything in my mind is calm, and even, and
unremarkable...that is, until I finally crack open my eyes.

I sit up like a shot, looking wildly around the unfamiliar
room. Where the hell am I? What the hell is going on, here? The space around me
is white and sanitized, lit by harsh white light and not at all like my
decadent hotel room. I must have passed out after the crash.
Oh my God, the crash
...I
think frantically. I have to find out what’s happened to Harrison and Enzo.

“You’re awake,” I hear, as shaking arms enclose me in a
tight embrace.

“Bex?” I say, pulling away from my best friend. I stare,
bewildered, down into her tear-stained face. “What’s—Where—?”

“We’re at the hospital,” she tells me, smoothing down my
hair, “You hit the floor after the wreck. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.
You’re OK, hun, you just got totally overwhelmed. I don’t blame you, of
course—”

“The wreck...” I breathe, the sterile room spinning around
me. I level my eyes at my best friend, knowing full well that in a moment, she
might also be the bearer of the worst news I’ve ever heard. “You have to tell
me what happened.”

“It was bad, Siena,” Bex whispers, her chin beginning to
quiver. “But they were out so far ahead of the others that no one else got
caught in the wreck. So that’s something. Marques took first. Rostov and
Landers came in right behind him—”

“I don’t care about stats right now,” I cry, “Harrison and
Enzo. They’re both...they’re not...” I trail off, unable to even form the words
that express my darkest fears. My blood turns to ice as Bex struggles to catch
her breath.

“They’re alive. Both of them,” she finally tells me, “I
thought, we all thought the worst. When they were finally pulled out of the
wreck, we thought for sure they’d be gone. You should have seen their cars, the
way they got ruined against the wall. It’s a miracle that either of them is
still with us.”

“They’re alive...” I say, forcing deep breaths into my
lungs.

“Yes,” Bex tells me, “Somehow, by some miracle, they’re both
alive. A little worse for the wear, sure—”

“I have to go see them,” I tell her, trying to get to my
feet. “I have to see for myself that they’re OK. What if something’s changed—?”

“Not yet,” Bex says, pulling me back down onto the cot.
“Just wait a minute, Siena.”

“Why? I have to make sure they’re being taken care of.”

“What are you going to do, burst into Harrison’s room and
throw yourself at him? Go rail at Enzo for causing the wreck in the first
place? This is a touchy situation, Siena. It has to be handled with care. And I
don’t mean from a PR perspective, I mean from a human perspective. What is your
plan right now?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, “I just...I want to see them.”

“You need to get your head on straight first,” Bex tells me.
“The next couple of hours are really important. Enzo and Harrison are both
going to be out of their minds with anger and fear and who knows what else. The
media’s going to be waiting outside for some kind of statement. You have to
have an even head about Harrison and your brother. You have to get your story
straight. Maybe say it was all an accident?”

“I can’t believe Enzo would do something like this...” I
mutter, burying my face in my hands, “I mean, I get that he’s mad at me...”

“Enzo?” Bex asks, “Why would he be mad at you?”

“Because he found out about me and Harrison,” I groan, “Just
before the race. Someone sent him those pictures of us. I went into his trailer
and saw them on his phone. All of them. My unknown asshole stalker decided to
let him in on my little secret right before the Grand Prix.”

“Oh my god...” Bex whispers.

“I tried to keep him off the track,” I say wildly, “I tried
to stop him, honestly I did. But he wouldn’t listen. And Dad and Gus kept
trying to tell me that he was OK to drive. He could hardly look at me, he was
so furious. I swear, I’ve never seen him so angry. Especially not with me...”

“You think he planned on wrecking Harrison?” Bex asks. “You
think that he was just looking for an excuse to try and hurt him?”

“I have no idea,” I say, “I think in the state he was in,
Enzo could have been capable of anything at all.”

“Do you think those pictures went to anyone else?” Bex
presses. “Do you think the rest of the world might be about to find out about
your secret?”

“They were on his phone,” I tell her, “Someone wanted him to
know, specifically. It’s not like they’re plastered across the internet. Have
you seen any tabloid covers starring yours truly today?”

“Not yet, anyway,” Bex says.

“Shit,” I mutter, rising shakily to my feet, “Shit, shit...”

“Now’s your moment, Siena,” Bex says, taking my hands in
hers, “Your dad’s in Enzo’s room now. Your brother was knocked out for a spell,
but he’s awake now. He’s a little battered, a concussion but he’s going to be
just fine. Go in there and come clean to them, before anything else happens.
It’s the only move you've got left. Tell them exactly what’s been happening
between you and Harrison, the whole truth. It’s not perfect timing, but it’s what
you’ve got to work with. It’s now or never, baby girl”

“OK,” I tell her, “I’m going. Shit, I guess I’m really going
to do this.”

“Don’t let them shout you down,” Bex tells me, as I hurry
out of the room, “Stand up for yourself, Siena. Stand up for you and Harrison.”

“Harrison,” I say, turning back, “He’s—?”

“Still out cold, I think,” she says quietly, “Banged up, but
not broken. But let the doctors worry about him for now. Go and see your
family. Make things right as best you can.”

I nod once and tear off through the hospital, in search of
my dad and brother. My hands are trembling terribly as I search through the
labyrinthine hospital. Raised voices and charging feet seem to careen all
around me as I make my way along. I finally manage to corner a doctor and get
set in the right direction. I arrive at my brother’s hospital room and peer
through the narrow window set into the door.

Enzo is sitting up in bed, a huge bruise blossoming across
one side of his face. His back in hunched, but he’s upright and alert. He’s
speaking adamantly to my father, who listens with rapt attention. Whatever
they’re talking about, neither of them looks comfortable or happy in the least.
It certainly doesn’t seem like the ideal moment to intrude, but I must. Without
knocking, I push open the hospital room door and step over the threshold.

Their eyes snap toward me as I straighten up, suspended in
the doorway. The expressions on my father’s and brother’s faces are almost
identical. They look angry, and hurt, and none-too-happy to see me.

“So. You’ve already told him,” I say to Enzo.

“Showed me, actually,” Dad says.

He’s holding Enzo’s phone is his hand. And through the
spiderweb of cracks in its screen, I can spot Harrison’s smiling face beside my
own. For a long moment, not one of us can speak. I came here to be honest, to
finally let my family in on this secret I’ve been keeping for so long. But now
that the moment has arrived, I have no idea how to relate the last couple of
months to them. How can I tell them how much I care about Harrison without
breaking their hearts?

“Have you come to try and explain yourself?” Enzo asks, his
eyes boring into me. “Because I can assure you, neither or us is interested in
your excuses.”

“I’ve come to explain the situation,” I correct him. “If
you’d just let me—”

“It seems pretty cut and dry to me,” Enzo says, fury boiling
in his every word. “Pictures speak a thousand words, Siena. And with all these
photos, I think we’ve already got a goddamn novel on our hands.”

“I was going to tell you about us,” I say, “Really, I was. I
wanted to. I was trying to find the perfect moment—”

“To tell us that you’ve been fucking Harrison Davies behind
our backs?” Enzo demands.

“Enzo!” Dad rasps, “Don’t speak about your sister that way.
She’s made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean you can—”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Enzo goes on, “Are you or are
you not sleeping with Davies, Siena? Tell the truth, for once.”

“Why bother asking questions that you know the answers to?”
I say softly. Enzo’s mouth falls open at my blunt answer, and I press forward.
“It’s not as simple as all that, Enzo.”

A cruel laugh escapes my brother’s throat. “I’m sure it’s
not, Siena,” he says, “I’m sure you have some wonderful justification for your
behavior. You’re a professional spin artist, after all. But I’m telling you
right now, there’s nothing you can say that will make this OK. What the hell
were you thinking, getting involved with him?”

“I was thinking that I’d met someone I enjoyed spending time
with. Someone who could understand me—”

“He’s the enemy,” Enzo spits.

“He’s the competition,” I correct him heatedly, “
You
made him the
enemy because you were afraid he’d steal the championship you decided was
rightfully yours.
You
have been picking fights with him since he showed up on the track. You were the
one who caused the wreck this afternoon and almost got yourself and Harrison
killed. So don’t sit there and lecture me about justification and spin, Enzo.
You’re not in the right here, brother. Not by any means.”

“Enough, both of you,” Dad says, pulling himself to
standing. “How the hell did the two of you get to be such stubborn, immovable
hot heads?”

“Well, we are your kids,” I remind him.

“Siena, I think your brother and I do deserve an explanation
here,” he says, ignoring my jibe, “I’m trying very hard to be rational about
all this. If this gets out, we’re all going to get dragged into it. All of our
careers are going to be impacted. So please, give us a story that we can
actually work with, here.”

“You’re not just going to disown me on the spot?” I say,
only half kidding.

“Tell us what happened,” Dad insists, “Please, Siena. You
owe us that much.”

I look back and forth between my brother and father, wishing
there was an easy way to have this conversation. But no one ever said that the
truth is supposed to be easy.

“It started in Barcelona,” I begin.

“Yeah. We know that much from the pictures,” Enzo scoffs.

“Are you going to let me do this, Enzo, or just keep raining
scorn down on me?”

He holds up his hands, gesturing for me to continue. I take
a deep breath and carry on.

“Charlie and I were out at this open air nightclub, and
Harrison came over to introduce himself. Offered to buy me a drink. Charlie got
huffy and left, but I stayed. I met Harrison’s friends, some other McClain
people. This was before Naughton’s crash, so Harrison hadn’t had his big debut
yet. I figured that he was just some McClain pit guy. He told me he worked for
McClain, but never what his job was. I mentioned that I worked for Ferrelli,
but I never told them in what capacity. I never even told them my last name. I
thought it would just be one night of hanging out with their group, a couple of
drinks, but Harrison and I really hit it off, before we even really knew who
the other was.”

“But surely, Davies would have known your face,” Dad says,
“He would have been studying his competition, even if we was just a backup
driver. He must have known exactly who you were, before you even introduced
yourself. He could have seen you walk into the bar and known right on the
spot.”

“Maybe,” I allow, remembering that Harrison admitted to
knowing who I was even from that first night. But I don’t like Dad’s
insinuating tone, here.

“Don’t you think it’s possible he sought you out to mess
with me?” Enzo asks harshly. “I mean, why else would he have approached you out
of nowhere? That’s not how normal people behave, Siena.”

“And I suppose he tampered with Naughton’s car and caused
his crash to become McClain’s main driver, right?” I shoot back angrily, “I
guess that his interest in me was based solely on the fact that I’m your
sister, and couldn’t possibly have to do with the fact that we make a good
match. Grow up, Enzo. Not everything’s about you.”

“I just think you’re giving Davies a whole lot of credit
where it’s not due,” Enzo says.

“And you’re not giving him any,” I say, “You don’t even know
him, Enzo.”

“OK, so the first night you didn’t know that Harrison was a
driver. But then, you must have figured out who he really was pretty quickly
once he did move up the McClain food chain, yes?” Dad prompts.

“Yeah, it became apparent pretty quickly after Naughton
crashed,” I say.