Thrust: Bad Boy Racing Romance (Fastlane Series Book 2) (32 page)

Whether that was her goal or not, I had no idea. After all, it’s not like we had a long history of discussing such things. I was only guessing about her motives. Groaning, I rolled over on my side, tucking one pillow between my legs and stuffing another under my head. I stared at the clock in my hotel room. It was off by hours. I hadn't cared enough to fix it.

Searching my feelings about Marco next, I began to soften towards him. He’d come so far and made such an effort it seemed impossible he was being anything but genuine with me. But things were still so fucked up, it was going to take a lot more to repair the mess we found ourselves in than a fifteen-minute chat.

I crossed my arms in front of my body, pulling my knees up towards my chest into a fetal position. I wanted to believe every word coming out of his mouth.

Not being with him was crushing me. And even though he hadn’t come out and expressed the same feelings for me, I knew in his own way he was doing the best he could. I bit my lip. For a moment I allowed myself to imagine everything had been fixed, almost like nothing ever happened.

Would he tell me then?

I grimaced, and a somber realization settled in on my consciousness. Maybe he didn’t have the same feelings. Maybe the only reason he’d come was out of a sense of guilt, obligation. It was an admirable gesture, but in the end it would mean the same thing for me - Marco Rhys would not be part of my life.

The idea sparked a dull ache deep in the pit of my stomach. In that instant, I made a decision. The days ahead would be filled with nothing but turmoil. I already knew it. In spite of that, I promised myself I wouldn’t let my desires go unspoken. I’d already confessed my love for him and got nothing in return. Even so, I would’ve never been able to live with myself if I didn’t give whatever we had at least one more chance.

My eyelids grew heavy. For several minutes, I battled them, doing my best to organize my thoughts before I drifted away. The last image I had was of my mother, standing above my father’s casket, weeping. Even if everything worked out between Marco and me… Even if we spent a lifetime of bliss together, I would, at some point, face the exact same fate.

I didn’t know if I was ready for it. Was she?

MARCO

Seeing Dani again was bittersweet. I was under no illusion she trusted me. Of course, I couldn’t blame her. My only hope was with some time and my continuing effort to fix things with her career, she’d come around. But that was out of my control since it was a decision only she could make.

I returned to my hotel suite in Manhattan late the night before. Sleep didn’t come easy or quick. Before I realized it, I was up with the sunrise. The only thing on my agenda that day was a brief meeting with my attorneys ahead of my final discussions with Bernard and Leopold the next afternoon.

Later that day, after ordering a couple of bottles of wine, I made my way to a balcony off my hotel room, overlooking the busy city streets below. New York was a place I loved, even if I didn’t get to visit very often. The energy of the city reminded me of the track. Everywhere life buzzed, moving at an incredible speed, just the way I liked it.

With a nearly full glass of wine in one hand, I eased into an oversized chair on the balcony. After taking a seat, I turned my head and looked at the only thing I brought with me on my trip - the envelope my father left in the strong box. For several minutes, I sat there, trying to center myself and collect my thoughts.

The wine went down easy, and quick. Placing the empty glass down on the cement tiling next to my chair, I lifted the envelope in front of my face. Since discovering it, I hadn’t bothered to pull out the contents again. I didn’t know if it was because of anger, fear, or disgust. Whatever the emotion was, I didn’t question it.

I licked my lips, grateful for what little humidity hung in the air. What is it about crossroads in life? There’s never any warning, only a choice… Which road will it be?

On the one hand, I could simply ignore the secrets the envelope contained. On the other, doing so would mean ignoring something deep inside myself, a feeling I’d had my entire life but couldn’t explain.

Something never seemed right, and now I knew why.

I curled my fingers inward, bending the envelope. Exhaling, I leaned back into the chair, pressing all of my weight into it. Even though I’d shared my secret with Dani, the final decision about how to handle it was mine, and mine alone. I dropped the envelope into my lap and flipped it over, reaching for the clasp holding it closed. After a couple of seconds, I pried it open and reached inside.

Wealth is a strange thing… Once it’s achieved, its value changes. Rather than a means to an end, it becomes a source for enjoying the parts of life which, while free, cost a great deal - sometimes much more than any of us are able to pay. I grasped all the papers, the adoption certificate and the letters in my hand and stared at them.

It’s strange how such things, which I didn’t even know existed a couple of weeks ago, had suddenly become the most important possessions in the world to me. Over the next couple of minutes, I read both of the letters again. When I'd finished, I picked up the adoption certificate, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger. Studying the faded names on the official government document, I wondered about the emotions each of them might have felt.

Ironically, my mother chose money over me… It was the very same thing she accused my father of doing to her. As for my biological father, well, his motives might always remain hidden. The thought of him caused me to pause for a moment.

What kind of man was he?

What kind of person sleeps with another man’s wife?

What does it say about the content of his character?

Even more troubling… What did it say about my own?

Genetics are the gravity of human misery, enslaving us to behaviors we spent a lifetime battling to overcome. In the long run, how would I be any different from him? The seconds ticked by.

What about my mother? Was she just young, lonely and desperate? Or was there a more sinister side to her? After all, what kind of woman turns over her own child, especially when it’s to a man who can more than provide for her?

I closed my eyes again, exhaling and trying to come to grips with my lineage. For at least a minute, I sat there, just breathing. At last, I opened my eyes, picking up the letter from Antonio.

In a strange way, I felt more connected to him than I had in my entire life. We never got along, for reasons that now were obvious, but at the time caused me nothing but pain. However, tracing my eyes along his words again, I began to question my memories. I really had no alternative but to look at him with a new perspective.

I wasn’t his flesh and blood. He could have just as easily turned his back, not only on me but also on my biological parents. I sat there in silence, searching myself for the kind of character within me that he must have possessed. It was the first time I ever remembered wanting to be like him, in any way.

The simple fact was that when it mattered the most,
he
was the one who cared for me when no one else would… The man I thought I hated. My hand fell into my lap, crinkling the letter from him in the process.

Who was my real family?

What was family?

Was family simply a matter of blood and genes? Or was it something far more complex and intricate - commitment, support, and love that spanned a lifetime?

I shook my head, wondering if the truth would ever make itself known to me. Just then, I felt my cell phone vibrating in the pocket of my jeans. I placed my father’s letter to one side, stacking it on top of the other papers. Seconds later, I held the phone in front of my face and swiped it.

“Dani?” I began, casting my gaze in the direction of the Manhattan skyline ahead of me. “Is everything all right?”

She wasted no time making small talk.

“Marco, where are you?”

“I’m in my hotel room, in Manhattan, about fifteen minutes from your office. Why?”

She paused for a moment, even so, her breathing suggested urgency. Before she could say anything, I reiterated my first question.

“Dani, is everything all right? You sound tense.”

She broke her stilted silence.

“No, everything is fine. I just need to see you. That’s all.”

Standing from the chair, took a handful of steps towards the edge of the balcony, leaning against the railing and glancing down at the streets below.

“I thought we agreed to give each other some time, you know, to think. What’s happened?”

“Marco,” she began, a firmness coming to her tone. “If you need time, then just say so. I don’t.”

The sudden change in her demeanor surprised me.

“It’s not about me, Dani. I think you know how I feel about what’s happened. I want to give you the freedom to think, especially with everything going with your family and your job. But, if you’re ready to talk, then I’m more than happy to listen.”

A deep exhale came from her.

“I’m glad. What I have to say won’t take very long but at the same time, it can’t wait either.”

I stood upright, leaning away from the balcony.

“I understand. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way back from Pennsylvania. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

I cleared my throat, turning my back on the skyline and looking towards my hotel room.

“Okay, I’ll text you the address.”

A few moments later we said our goodbyes and I hung up. After sliding my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, I walked back over to where I’d stacked paperwork. Bending over at the waist, I gathered it up and slid it down inside of the manila envelope once again. Tossing it on the chair, I raked my fingers along my scalp.

Why was she coming here?

Was it to forgive?

Or forget?

DANI

Driving as fast as I could, I arrived at Marco’s hotel a few hours later.

I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say, let alone how. The only thing certain was I wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass me by. One way or another, I’d leave there knowing exactly how he felt about me. Taking a final deep breath, I knocked on the door to his hotel room. Not long after, the handle twisted, and in a flash, Marco appeared in front of me.

He smiled, standing to one side. Once I entered, he closed the door behind me. I stood there, waiting for him to approach. Within a couple of seconds, he approached and kissed my cheek.

“I’ve been out on the veranda,” he began, pulling away and looking at me. “Come join me.”

I repositioned the strap of my purse on my shoulder and nodded.

“Okay.”

After following him outside, I looked to my left and saw a chair with a manila envelope on it.

“I’ve only just started a bottle,” Marco said, reaching for the wine sitting on top of the veranda wall. “Would you like a bit?”

I looked in his direction and away from the envelope, shaking my head.

“No. No thank you.”

While he refilled his glass, I found my curiosity getting the better of me.

“What have you been doing here by yourself?”

Marco finished pouring his drink. After setting the bottle down, he turned around, facing me.

“Just taking some time to myself - remember, like we discussed?”