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

With no small effort, I drag myself up out of bed and start
gathering my things. I toss articles of clothing and toiletries into my
suitcase at random, unable to bring my mind fully to the task. Dad told me to
be ready to go in half an hour, and the last thing I want is for someone to
come and find me a sobbing mess. Of course, I could blame it on the fact that
Enzo placed second this go-around. Nobody would doubt it for a second, I’m
sure.

I give my room one last once over and slip out into the
hall. We’re convening in the lobby before making the trip to Moscow, Russia—the
city that’s hosting the next Grand Prix. At least this trek will be a
relatively short one. The second we touchdown, I’ll be able to put my mind to
figuring out what on earth I’m supposed to do next. Right now, I don’t even
know if I can safely answer a text message from Harrison without getting us
both in the trouble of our lives. I just need a minute to think this all
through.

A door opens down the hallway in front of me, and a trill of
laughter spills out. I stop short as two people tumble through the doorway and
into the hall, and feel my jaw drop as I realize that I recognize them. Bex and
Charlie straighten up as they spot me, trying to suppress their giddy grins.

“What the hell...?” I mutter.

“Sorry Siena,” Bex breathes, “Didn’t meant to scare you. We
were just—”

“Packing up,” Charlie says, struggling to keep a straight
face.

“Right,” I say, feeling a hot rush of anger course through
my blood as Charlie smiles bashfully. “Packing up. I get it.”

“Are you OK, Siena?” Bex asks, “You look a little...”

“Distracted,” I offer, “You know, I am feeling a little bit
off. Can’t really put my finger on why that might be, though. What do you
think, Charlie? Any idea why I might be a little down in the dumps?”

“Um...Siena, I have no idea,” Charlie says, shooting a quick
glance at Bex, “Are you just bummed that Enzo—?”

“No,” I snap, “Wrong. Oh well. I’ll just let you two get
back to whatever it is you’re doing. I wouldn’t want to intrude on any private
moment. Or pry into your personal lives. It’s not really my style. It’s not
really what civilized people do.”

“Why don’t you get our stuff,” Bex says to Charlie, “I’m
gonna walk Siena down—”

“I’m fine on my own, Bex,” I say, a little more harshly than
I mean to, “See you love birds in Moscow, I guess.”

I charge past them, hot tears pricking my eyes. If Charlie
has anything to do with those photos, as I’m guessing he does, this is a double
betrayal. It’s bad enough that he’s probably involved, but if Bex is moony-eyed
over him all of a sudden...it’s too much. Is there anyone on this entire season
that I can trust?

Dad, Enzo, Gus, and the other guys of Team Ferrelli are all
waiting in the lobby by the time I get downstairs. A stormy silence hangs over
them all, despite the falsely cheerful smiles they’re all wearing. Everyone is
trying to pretend like nothing is wrong after our second place finish, but
they’re doing a piss-poor job. The truth is that deep down everyone is scared
shitless about Harrison. That includes me, for different reasons, of course.

“Have you seen Charlie?” Gus asks, as I draw up to the
group.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be coming in a second,” I say dryly,
noting my accidental double entendre.

Oh God...I wonder how far things have gotten between Bex and
Charlie? They must have been eyeing each other the whole time this season’s
been going on, and I never even noticed. Thinking about the two of them
together makes me incredibly sad. If everything with Harrison wasn’t about to
go to shit, I’d think it was wonderful that they were getting together. But if
Bex is sidling up to Charlie just as he prepares to ruin my chances of
happiness, then I’m going to lose them both.

Of course, there’s always the chance that Charlie has
nothing to do with those pictures. Sure, he’s the most likely suspect, but if
he really has been carrying on with Bex this whole trip, would he have the
extra time to be tailing me and Harrison? Maybe there’s someone else out there
who’s just as eager to keep us apart. Someone who’d be willing to put a
permanent stain on Harrison’s racing career if it meant breaking us apart.

“Oh no...” Dad mutters, looking toward the hotel’s entrance.

I follow his gaze across the lobby and feel my insides twist
painfully. Through the sliding glass doors strides Team McClain, with Harrison
Davies front and center. I barely notice Bex and Charlie slip in among our
number as Harrison spots us across the space. His eyes linger on me for just a
moment, but I can read the question in his eyes even from here. He’s wondering
why I’m not responding to his texts, whether I’m angry that he beat my brother,
if anything is different between us. The short answer is, of course, that
things are very different between us now. But how can I tell him that without
pissing off my blackmailer?

The other young people of Team McClain stroll in after
Harrison. Andy and Cora walk arm in arm beside him while Sara and Shelby linger
behind, their eyes buried in their iPhones. One by one, they spot me across the
way. Cora and Andy give friendly smiles, Sara manages a little wave, and Shelby
raises her cold eyes right to mine. I watch as the faintest hint of a smile
plays across her lips—and it’s not the friendly kind, either.

Shelby. Of course. Why didn’t I think of her straight away?
She could easily be the mystery caller who’s threatening to out me and Harrison
as a couple. From the start, it was clear she didn’t like me. And she was there
that first night in Barcelona when things first started to heat up between
Harrison and I. Could she really have been trailing us from then on out,
lurking in shadows, waiting to snap incriminating pictures of us? I have no
idea. I’ve barely met the girl. Why the hell would be she doing a thing like
this? Maybe she’s carrying a torch for Harrison, and I went and got in her way?
It’s insane, but not impossible.

I look back and forth between Charlie and Shelby. Which one
of them is more likely to be behind this? Or—and this thought scares me more
than anything—what if it’s not either of them? What if some complete stranger
is out there with a batch of pictures that could ruin my life? Someone I can’t
reason with or understand, someone who’s just out to make our lives miserable.
This isn’t how I pictured things going at all. I was just starting to hope that
maybe Harrison and I could find a way to become public without inciting a shit
storm. But any chance of that seems about as likely as the Pope converting to
Judaism right about now.

Enzo takes a swaggering step forward, snapping me out of my
panicked mind. My brother heads straight for Harrison, who breaks away from his
own pack. They walk toward each other across the marble lobby, and the rest of
us fall silent. I halfway expect them to take their forty paces before opening
fire on each other. But I have a feeling that if a duel does occur between
these two, it’s going to go down on the track, not in the lobby of some fancy
hotel.

“Heading out early, Lazio?” Harrison asks, drawing up to my
brother. The two men are almost exactly the same size. They’re both tall and
muscular, without being outrageously built. I wonder who would come out on top
in a fight, if it came to it? Oh Christ, I hope it doesn’t ever come to that. I
don’t think I could stand it.

“Just getting a head start,” my brother replies, crossing
his arms.

“Hoping to get some extra practice in before the next race?”
Harrison smiles.

He’s ribbing Enzo, trying to piss him off. Jesus, do we have
to watch this little pissing contest right now? Sometimes even the most manly
men can act like overgrown boys.

“I don’t really believe in being reckless,” Enzo says coolly,
“We run a pretty tight ship.”

“Yes, I see that,” Harrison says, nodding to the rest of us,
“But you know, Lazio, sometimes it’s good to shake things up a bit.”

“You call sleeping through your preliminary shaking things
up?” Enzo scoffs.

“Paid off, didn’t it?” Harrison smiles.

“It’s dangerous,” Enzo says, “All you do, Davies, is make an
already risky sport riskier for us all. It’s inconsiderate, and
unsportsmanlike.”

“But I suppose that cutting off drivers left and right and
making personal attacks is the height of acting like a true gentleman, eh
Lazio?” Harrison shoots back.

“No one’s attacking you,” Enzo says, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You know full well what I’m talking about. And you know
that I’m right,” Harrison says, “We both know that I’m making you nervous,
especially now that I’ve beat your ass, and you’re trying to make yourself feel
better by taking cheap shots at my family. Well guess what, Lazio? I’m not my
father. And you’re not yours. It’s just you, me, and the rest of the drivers
out there. We’re equals.”

“You are not my equal,” Enzo spits, “You’re a lucky rookie
who’s going to get his ass handed to him by the time this championship is
over.”

“You’re dreaming,” Harrison says with a grin.

“You’re deluded,” Enzo returns, “You’ll burn out in no time,
Davies. Sooner or later, you’ll crack. You’ll slip up, and the world will be
able to see you for who you really are. A no-good, womanizing, drunkard of a
racer who’ll fizzle and die out before long.”

I watch as Enzo’s words sink into Harrison’s mind. I know
he’s thinking the exact same thing as I am: he really does have something to
hide these days, but it’s got nothing to do with his father. It’s me he has to
worry about.

“See you in Russia, Lazio,” Harrison says, snapping out of
it, “I’ll be the one racing laps around your ass.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Enzo laughs, “Poor little boy.
I remember
my
first F1 series. Once you’ve got some experience, you’ll start to understand
that strategy and precision trump a movie star smile any day. You may be a
charming little bastard, but I’ve been training far longer than you have. And
that’s what counts in the end. I’m just going to sit back and watch you figure
out how inferior you really are.”

“That’s about enough of that,” Harrison says, his voice quietly
intense.

“Have I finally struck a nerve?” Enzo smiles, “Good. You
should be unnerved. You’re out of your league.”

“That’s pretty high talk coming from someone I beat this
afternoon,” Harrison says.

“That was luck, plain and simple. And you being a dirty
opportunist, of course.”

“What the hell is your problem, Lazio? You’ve had it out for
me from the start.”

“Damn right,” my brother says, “And I still do.”

“You threatening me?” Harrison asks, taking a menacing step
forward.

“What of it?” Enzo asks, edging forward himself.

“I mean to protect myself, is all,” Harrison growls, “And I
don’t go down without a fight, I’ll tell you that.”

“That so?” Enzo asks, shoving Harrison lightly.

“Damn right,” Harrison returns, shoving back with just a
little more force.

“That’s enough!” Dad shouts, pulling Enzo away from
Harrison.

“Come on,” Andy says, stepping forward to pull Harrison away
from my brother, “This isn’t you, mate.”

“A little friendly rivalry never killed anyone, right
Harrison?” Enzo shoots, turning back to Team Ferrelli.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Harrison replies,
storming out of the lobby.

“What was that?” Enzo shouts, as Team McClain disappears
into the hotel, “What the hell did he just say to me?”

“Stop your yelling,” Gus grumbles, punching Enzo on the arm,
“You’re acting like a teenage hot head. Let’s all just make it to Moscow in one
piece, shall we?”

Team Ferrelli goes on toward the doors, but I linger behind.
Against my better judgment, I let my eyes follow Harrison toward the bank of
elevators. He turns toward me, his eyes full of conflicted frustration. I wish
I could go to him, soothe him, make things right. But his team closes in around
him, with that horrible Shelby person in among his inner circle, and I find
myself flanked at once by Charlie and Bex.

“Come on, Siena,” Bex says, “They’re going to leave without
us if we don’t hurry.”

I let myself be towed across the lobby by my maybe-friends,
tearing my eyes away from Harrison. This is going to be harder than I ever
could have imagined. Why was I stupid? I seriously thought that we might make
it out of this season unscathed, free to be together. What a joke. More and
more, it’s looking like whatever chance at happiness we might have had together
is sputtering out. I don’t know how to face that, don’t know who to turn to if
not Harrison. He’s the first person I’ve ever met who understands me on a level
that goes deeper than words, further than logic. And he’s the one person I
can’t talk to about this.