Victory Page 9

  The room was filled with steam, but Missy wasn’t standing under the spray of the water in the dim light. She was curled up next to the wall with her knees pulled into her chest.

  “What’s going on?” He knelt down next to her and heard the sniffle of a sob.

  “What did we do?” she stammered as she sucked in a breath. “Walker, we shouldn’t have…”

  “Stop,” he demanded as he sat down on the floor mat, as to not put his ass on the cold tile. “First of all, at this point, you can call me Jake.”

  She snickered at that and wiped her eyes with her fingertips.

  “Secondly, we didn’t do anything wrong,” he added as he placed a hand on her knee. “Missy, we’re adults who, as Bud pegged us, have a lot of sexual tension between us.”

  She nodded. “Right. Sexual tension. Now it’s out of the way.”

  Jake bit the inside of his cheek to give himself a moment to think. He realized that every rumor he’d heard about this woman had to be absolutely not true. If she made her way around the track with every man who cast her an eye, she certainly wouldn’t be in his bathroom crying.

  He lifted his hands to her wet cheeks and guided her attention to his eyes. “Sweetheart, I think we’ve just increased it. Sex with you was mind-blowing.”

  “And now we head back out to race, both of us thinking we’ve seen each other naked. We’ve felt each other’s heartbeats. We’ve gotten that drive between us out of the way. How do we objectively race now?”

  Well, shit!

  His heart had taken a serious tumble in those sheets while his body was enjoying the sensations. And she was right. Had she not brought it up, he probably, subconsciously, would have eased his foot off the gas during that race and let that pink car whiz right by him. In fact, now that he thought of it, he was sure that’s exactly what he’d have done.

  Jake smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’m not just going to say screw it and walk away from this.”

  “From what?”

  “From us.”

  “What us? Jake, we fell into bed.”

  He retracted his hands and scrubbed them over his face again. Sleep deprivation was taking a toll on his patience and common sense.

  “Is that what you think this all was? Some elaborate plan to get you into my bed? You know, had that been all I was after, I’m fairly sure I could have had you under me that night in my hotel room.”

  His words sparked more emotion in her and her cry became a harder sob. “I never would have let you.”

  “It looks like you’re not open to this,” he said standing. “Listen, take all the time you need to get ready. I’m going to head to the garage.”

  He moved to the door and pulled it open. The steam escaped and cool air hit his skin.

  “Jake,” she called after him and he stopped, but didn’t turn to look at her. “It was mind-blowing. I just think it’s the wrong time.”

  He winced at her words and kept walking to find his clothes he’d discarded and get the hell out of his own house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Seriously, are you listening to me?” Sam snapped his fingers toward Missy and she blinked then looked at him.

  “Sorry. I’m a little tired to day.”

  Sam skirted the front of the pink car and came to stand so close to her she could smell the mint of his gum.

  “Dad knows you were with Walker last night.”

  Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips. “We had some things to discuss.”

  Sam touched her arm. “Don’t get involved there, Missy. He’s trouble and you know it.”

  “He’s a racer. That’s all.”

  “Okay, it’s not just him. You get involved with Walker then you’re involved with his family too. Nothing good can come from that.”

  She shook her head. “You’re saying nothing good can come from getting involved with him because of his father. That’s what you’re really saying, isn’t it?”

  Sam looked around the nearly empty track. “The man bet against his kid, probably full well knowing someone was messing with the car. What kind of character does that say he is?”

  “And we have a mother who preaches God’s word and yet won’t believe her daughter when she says the sins assumed against her aren’t real. And we have a father who thinks money can buy anything—anyone. Where is that different, Sam?”

  Sam studied her face, her eyes. “You stayed with him, didn’t you?”

  The air grew thicker as she stared at her brother. “I told you we had things to discuss.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Missy. I’m your brother. I’m the only person in this circuit that’s believed in you since day one.”

  She contemplated her answer very carefully before giving him one. “I’m a grown woman. No one—no one,” she reiterated, “can tell me who I can and can’t stay with.”

  “You’re going to get hurt, and I don’t just mean your reputation or your heart. You messed up big time.”

  Sam turned and headed back toward the trailer where the crew had gathered to discuss the car.

  She stood there, her racing suit intensifying the Georgia heat. They didn’t know her. What the hell? They already assumed she was sleeping around, so why was it so bad if she did it?

  All she could do now was show them that no one could talk down to her and expect less. She’d get out on that track and she’d kick Walker’s ass. Then what would they say?

  ~*~

  Jake hid in the back garage for most of the day. He went over every detail of the car to make sure it was ready for the race. And, of course, it was. He and Bud had a system that never failed. The only time the car failed him was when it was pushed against the freaking wall—or someone had tampered with it.

  Laying on his back under the car on the least comfortable creeper ever, he tested another bolt, the wrench slipped and fell to the floor, barely missing his face, echoing loudly in the silent space. He hadn’t even thought to turn on some music.

  Adjusting to roll back out from under the car, he saw a pair of boots standing a mere foot away. Sadly, they weren’t the pair he’d seen a few days ago when he opened the garage door. These belonged to a man.

  They weren’t Bud’s, and that left a heaviness on his chest. Who the hell was standing in his garage?

  With the wrench securely in his hand, in case he might need it for a weapon, Jake rolled out from under the car, and quickly got to his feet.

  Of all people in the whole wide world he didn’t expect to see standing in his garage was Eddie Justice.

  There was a long pause where Jake worked to steady himself enough to speak without his voice shaking.

  “What are you doing here?” He was curt and to the point.

  Eddie Justice, with his blond hair in a crisp cut, stood chewing on a toothpick. He didn’t look like a racer today. He looked as if he’d walked right out of a board meeting downtown. “I got twenty grand, in cash, for you to take a back seat for this race.”

  Jake felt the wrench’s weight in his hand as he tightened his grip. Twenty grand was a nice chunk of change, and here he was offering it up as a buy out?

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Justice pulled a stack of money from his jacket pocket and threw it onto the hood of the car. It sickened Jake to think that he actually wanted to touch it, but he refrained.

  “It’s all yours. You just have to pull out.”

  “Why? What kind of threat could I possibly be?”

  “Walker, it’s a simple. You’re in or you’re out.”

  “Why don’t you leave my garage, I don’t want your blood money.”

  Justice laughed and flipped the toothpick in his mouth. “Blood money?”

  “Yeah, I know you have something up with my dad. He bet on you when I crashed. I’m thinking that you secured my demise.”

  The grin that formed on his lips was evil and it had Jake’s stomach tightening. “Never was near your car, Walker, though I find it mighty pleasing to k
now your father doesn’t believe in you either.” He moved toward the money and picked it up. “Last chance, Walker. It’s all yours if you just walk away.”

  “Still don’t see where I’m a threat to you. Why buy me off?”

  “Who says it’s me doing it? I’m just the messenger and you don’t kill the messenger.”

  Jake ran his tongue over his teeth. “Just like Maverick was your messenger the night at the bar? Don’t tell me you weren’t the one to clean up his mess after his run in with Missy.”

  Justice gave him a nod and tucked the money back into his pocket. “Lydia is going to be extremely upset when all her hard earned money goes down the drain when you don’t make it over the finish line. Maybe I’ll have to head over and console her afterward. She’d be a good partner to have.” The flash of a grin had Jake ready to use the wrench on Justice, but he kept in check.

  “Lydia’s money is secure with me. I’ll be crossing the finish line.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Justice seared a look at him that drove right though him. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

  As soon as Justice walked out of the garage, and the door closed behind him, Jake chucked the wrench at the wall with a curse. They weren’t going to scare him away. He and Missy had a plan, and even if she didn’t think sleeping with him had been a good idea—and he needed her to reconsider that—they were still allies. They were going to win that race and one of them was taking home that purse. No matter which car crossed first, all Jake knew was it wouldn’t be Eddie Justice.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Never in all her years of racing had Missy worried about what she packed for a race. Jeans, T-shirts, and one casual, but nice dress for celebration dinners, should there be one. So why was she fretting over which pair of jeans, and the quality of the shirts she was packing?

  Sitting down on her bed, she threw the PINK shirt into the closet floor, then fell back on the bed. She worried, because what if she had the chance to take them off again for Walker? What if things between them sparked again?

  Of course, then the sadness of it became much too relevant. Why would he try? She had been nasty to him after they’d shared—what she’d consider—the night of her life.

  If Walker never spoke to her again, she’d regret it. She sincerely liked the man—and like was a simple term for what she truly was feeling for him. She couldn’t blame him if he didn’t talk to her. That had to be quite a blow to a man’s ego to find the woman you had sex with all night crying on your bathroom floor—and what a bathroom floor.

  Missy sat up and looked at the clothes strewn over the room. She thought of Walker’s house, and she realized she was envious of him. That house of his was remarkable. She’d give anything to have something like that—something that was hers.

  There was no reason her brother should have ever known she hadn’t come home the other night. At twenty-eight, she should have had her own place—her own life. Admittedly, it had always been easier to live in the big house with her family. She raced for the company, so she wasn’t truly underfoot like Sam was with their father. Often she worked in the office, hidden away from customers, and staff. Sam was expected to be his father’s protégé. Someday the dealerships would fall to him, there had never been a mix of words there.

  But the comfort of day in and day out, and the luxury of having her father’s wealth predict her future, had her staying in their house, which was much too big for four people. No one ever saw anyone else within in the house.

  But there had always been someone cooking meals. Someone who cleaned her bathroom. Hell, she could do the maintenance on her own truck, but that was handled too.

  She winced thinking about it all. She was a damn priss. No wonder people talked about her the way they did. Perhaps she deserved that.

  The very thought of being the spoiled brat everyone thought she was left a bad taste in her mouth. Had she been fighting all these years to lose that rep, only to have egged it on? And now she’d gone off and slept with the enemy.

  That hurt too. Not the sleeping with him, but making it sound horrible—because it wasn’t horrible at all. Jake Walker was an attentive lover, and her sobbing in the bathroom floor had just made a mess of what could have been a nice thing.

  Things in her life needed to change.

  A lot rode on this race. If she won, she kept racing. If she lost, Samuel became her father’s main driver.

  Part of that purse in Atlanta would go to her if she won. Wouldn’t it be a kick in the gut if she moved out with her winnings? The very thought had her laughing. That was exactly what she was going to do when she beat Walker over the finish line. Because, even though they had an alliance between them, she didn’t have to let him win. The purse for second was big enough to pay Lydia back the money she’d put into his race.

  She felt satisfied with that, so she walked across the room, pulled the PINK shirt back off the floor, and folded it into the suitcase.

  ~*~

  Walker’s trailer had been parked in the parking lot of the hotel, but she hadn’t seen him around.

  Sam had gone down to the bar with the rest of her crew, and the invitation hadn’t been extended to her, understandably so. She didn’t usually go to the bar with the crew before, or after a race. Having spent so many years fighting off stupid rumors, she didn’t feel like doing it tonight—especially since now it had some merit.

  Missy had seen Bud go out to the trailer a couple of times, disappear inside where the car was, and come back out. However, she still hadn’t seen Walker. And like a pathetic, love-sick puppy, she’d been watching for him.

  She was in that state now, staring out the window for a glimpse of him, when a loud knock at her door had her jumping back from the window and pressing her hand to her chest.

  Oh, she was going to kill whoever was on the other side. That had to have scared ten years off her life, and she had plans for those ten years no matter which end of her life they’d been attached to.

  Flinging open the door, assuming her brother was on the other side, she was in for another shock when she found Walker standing there looking down at her.

  “We have to talk,” he said pushing his way past her and into the room.

  “I didn’t invite you in,” she sneered as she shut, and locked the door.

  “You can keep going with your act of not talking to me. I don’t even give a rat’s ass. You have a problem with me, well then I guess we’re back where we started.”

  “What do you want, Walker?” she asked, and her voice had a whine to it that even made her muscles tense.

  Missy watched him shove his hands into his pockets. He usually did that to avoid using them, she’d learned. So he was keeping clear. That was good. Even though he looked like sin and smelled equally as good, she didn’t need him. The race and a win were what she needed. Even with him only a few feet from her, his legs nearly butted up to the edge of the hotel bed, she needed to get him out of that room as fast as possible.

  “Did Justice approach you?” he asked and finally locked eyes with her.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he came to me with twenty thousand in cash asking me to pull out of the race.”

  Her breath caught. “He tried to bribe you?”

  Jake nodded as he pulled his hands from his pockets and raked them through his hair, which she noticed he’d had cut since their night at his house.

  “Maverick isn’t on the roster either.”

  That she hadn’t heard. “Why?”

  Jake paced towards the window, looked outside, and moved back. “Rumor has it they picked him up a few weeks ago. Seems you weren’t the only one he tried his crap on in a drunken haze.”

  Instinct had her move to him. “He hurt someone?”

  She hadn’t expected the chuckle that came from him. “Ya. But he picked the wrong woman to mess with. She was packing. Had one of those special purses you can conceal a gun in. Shot right through the thing and landed a bullet in
his hip.”

  Missy covered her mouth, because the grin was wrong. “That’s horrible.”

  “Karma is a bitch.”

  She’d heard him say that more than once.

  Jake pulled his phone from his pocket, checked the time, and slid it back in place. “I have to go. My run is in a few hours. Bud is packed up and ready.”

  She knew that. She’d been watching him all day.

  “Why did you come to tell me about Justice?”

  Now he moved to her, took her hands in his. She wanted to pull away, to make him believe that she still was upset over everything that had happened. But she couldn’t make herself do it.

  “You don’t bribe someone if they’re not a threat. Why else does he want me out of the race?”

  “Because now he doesn’t have Maverick.”

  “Which means he’ll be out to hurt me, or you.”

  It had crossed her mind—once—that one of them might get hurt trying to push Maverick and Justice out of the race. But it hadn’t stuck. She and Walker were good drivers. The best one was going to win.

  But he was right. If Justice was working alone he’d need to ensure Jake and Missy didn’t race for a long time. If they didn’t keep the lead, and keep Justice in check, one of them might end up hurt—or worse.

  Jake’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, and she embraced the touch. “We can outrace him. We’re better than he is.”

  He nodded. “That’s why I think he’s trying to bribe me. He needs us out of the race before the next one. The purse is much bigger next time for the driver that takes it home.” He dropped her hands and walked to the door. “Bud has his ear to the ground looking for more information. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. You might let Sam and your crew know to keep an eye out for him.”

  She nodded as he reached for the door. “I will.” Jake opened the door and she called to him again. “It was nice to talk to you,” she offered.