Every turn I hesitated, unsure of what the next stretch of road would be like, or if we’d encounter oncoming traffic. All those hesitations, where my foot eased on the gas, they all added up so that when we hit the motorway the Porsche was almost two car lengths ahead and the Corvette was starting to pass me.
“No, no, no,” I hissed under my breath, slamming through my gears and pressing my foot down harder, “Not today, you entitled asshole. Not my baby.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed small piles of old snow beside the road, dirty and melting. I’d raced in winter often enough that I could handle myself on cold roads, but a chill of fear rippled through me and for a flash of a second, I saw the crash. I saw our car spinning out of control, heard my mother’s screams, smelled the sickening, coppery tang of blood.
It was only a flash, but it was a flash too long. It broke my concentration, and I suddenly found myself sandwiched between the Corvette and Mercedes while a truck barreled toward us.
I screamed as the headlights blinded me and the driver leaned on his horn. Panic and fear locked up my muscles, and my plastered hand spasmed. The wheel jerked in my grip, sending me careening sideways into the Corvette.
Metal crunched and my head snapped to the side as our cars collided, then in the next second I bounced across into the Merc. My ears were ringing, my vision blurred, but survival instinct kicked in. I slammed my foot down on the brakes as my beautiful blue Aston entered a spin and skidded off the road into the grassy shoulder.
It seemed like forever that my car skidded before finally coming to a stop with a hard thump against a tree. My heart, though, continued thundering so hard I worried it was about to burst. Tears stung at my eyes and my breathing came in heavy, harsh gasps while I desperately tried to get a grip. But the fresh memories of my parents’ death refused to be silenced, and a low, keening sound began to wail from me.
Get a grip, Riley! Hold it together. You’re not dead, you’re fine. You’re fine. You’re fine.
Dante’s car, though...
“No,” I sobbed, trying and failing to unbuckle my seatbelt several times before my trembling fingers made it work. My door was stuck, and I needed to kick it a couple of times before it popped open and spilled me out onto the chewed up grass.
In short... my beautiful Butterfly was destroyed.
I was no mechanic, but I could only imagine how much it would cost to repair the kind of damage done. The idea made me sob, and I hugged my knees as I sat in the dirt beside Dante’s hundred and eighty thousand dollar write-off. Or, not even Dante’s anymore. By now the other drivers would be long finished, which meant Dante had just lost his car.
As I sat there, rocking back and forth, fighting down the mounting despair, a sleek black car rolled up and stopped on the road where I’d spun out.
Sickness pooled in my belly, and I quickly swiped the tears from my cheeks as that dark haired, arrogant asshole stepped out of his Bugatti and crossed the grass toward me.
“Come to gloat?” I snapped at him, scrambling to my feet. He was still an easy half foot taller than me, but at least I wasn’t cowering.
The smile he gave me was tight and humorless. “I hope you learned your lesson, Butterfly,” he said in a cold, serial killer sort of voice, flicking his gaze over the decal on my poor, destroyed baby. Behind him, several more cars pulled up—probably to gawk at the poor little new girl who couldn’t handle racing with the boys. “Go back to where you came from. You don’t belong here.”
He started to walk away again, and I spluttered a protest. “Hey, wait!” I yelled. “What about my car?”
Turning slightly back toward me, he arched a brow over one of those dark eyes. “You mean my car?” He gave a cold half-smile. “I’ll probably get it towed to the wreckers. It was a piece of shit anyway.”
I was left speechless, and he strolled back to his sexy-as-sin car and slid in. In the dim light while his door was open, I spotted that same brunette girl who’d been all over him before the race, and her smug grin was enough to make me see red.
Bugatti-boy took off, closely followed by three other insanely expensive cars—including Jasper in the yellow Aventador. The other kids who’d stopped to stare all left a bit slower, the last one leaving just as a vintage mustang pulled up and Dante leapt out of the passenger seat.
“Riley!” he yelled as he barreled toward me, sweeping me up in a huge hug. “Are you okay?” he demanded when he finally set me down. His hands cupped my face as he peered at me, like he was a human x-ray machine and could scan me for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I replied, peeling myself out of his grip. “Just a bit shaken up. And Butterfly...” I choked up, looking over the wreckage of the beautiful car again.
“Fuck the car, Riles,” Dante growled. “When we saw the wreck, I thought you’d—” he broke off with a cringe, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“You thought I’d died. Like my parents did.” I shivered hard, and not just because my sweater was too thin for the winter temperatures. In my attempt to avoid Dante’s too intense stare, I spotted Eddy standing awkwardly on the edge of the road.
“Hey,” I called out to her. “Your car?” I indicated the mustang, and she nodded.
“Yeah. Want a lift home?” Her smile was sympathetic, and it made me want to burst out crying again.
With one last look at my poor, broken Butterfly, I heaved a sigh and trudged back to the road where Eddy waited beside her car. “Thanks,” I muttered, taking the front passenger seat as Dante hopped in the back. Suddenly something occurred to me. “Fuck, you’re going to think I’m a total spaz, but... I don’t actually know how to get to, uh, the place I’m staying.”
Eddy arched a brow at me in curiosity, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“She’s going to the Deboise Estate,” Dante offered, slouching across the backseat so he could look between Eddy and me.
My new friend spluttered and coughed a laugh. “Excuse me?” she exclaimed, gaping at me. “Why are you going to the Deboise Estate?”
I heaved a sigh and cradled my plastered arm to my middle as I peered out the window. “Long story,” I mumbled. “Do you know how to get there?”
Eddy snorted. “Of course I do. I just live two houses down.” I gave her a puzzled frown and she rolled her eyes. “Edith Langham,” she explained, pointing to herself. “You sort of met my brother Jasper earlier.”
Blame the head injury, but it took a moment for my brain to make the right connections. “Langham,” I repeated slowly. “Langham Finance?”
Eddy nodded. “Yup, that’s the one. So behind those ridiculous gates there are just the five estates. Ours—Langham—as well as Rothwell, Grant, Beckett, and obviously Deboise.” She flicked a quick glance at me while she drove. “You met Sebastian Beckett tonight, of course, and my brother Jasper Langham. You didn’t see them, but Evan Rothwell and Dylan Grant were tagging along in Beck’s shadow like they always are.” She rolled her eyes and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.
“Sebastian Beckett?” I repeated, and that sexy, smoldering asshole popped into my head. Of course that was him. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.
“You didn’t know?” Eddy exclaimed, with a small laugh, then tossed an accusing look at Dante in the mirror. “That was rude of you not to introduce her.”
I frowned, turning in my seat to glare at Dante. “You knew who they were? What the fuck, Dante?”
He just shrugged and looked unapologetic. “Like I give a shit about a bunch of entitled rich kids. I just wanted to see you shit all over their egos.”
Grumbling, I turned back to my window. “Look how that worked out.”
There was a long, awkward silence, then Eddy hummed under her breath. “School is going to be so much fun this semester.”
5
Eddy wasn’t questioned at the first set of gates, driving through with barely a pause. I was still pretty shaken up, my pulse racing. Heavy emotions pressed on my chest as well. Not only was that the first car I’d driven since my parents, it was the first race I’d ever lost, and I’d had to do it in spectacular fashion in front of a bunch of rich fucking assholes. Poor, butterfly.
“So, are you going to tell me your story? Or should I guess?” Eddy picked up the conversation, as she maneuvered along the dark road.
I looked over my shoulder and exchanged a glance with Dante. He didn’t give me his usual head shake, and I was surprised that my jaded best friend seemed to be okay with Eddy. Usually it took him ages to warm up to someone new, especially enough to trust them with life stories.
Deciding I could use one friend in this piece of shit place, I decided to give Eddy a chance. A real chance. “My parents were killed—” I choked on that word, swallowing hard and attempting to stuff all of my burning pain down again. “In a car accident. The Deboise are adopting me, or re-claiming me more accurately, because I’m apparently the biological daughter they threw away at birth.”
Eddy blinked at me and slowed her car before pulling it to a stop. We were in front of the gates I’d escaped from only a few hours ago. “Fuck me. Seriously, the Deboises are your birth parents?” Something seemed to occur to her because her eyes widened and she sucked a deep breath.
I nodded, shrugging off her weird facial expression. “Oh yeah, and Catherine Deboise is an ultra bitch. She is trying to morph me into a rich asshole. The next time you see me, my name will be impossible to pronounce and I’ll be wearing designer heels.”
Dante snorted from the back. “You’d kill yourself in heels.”
He wasn’t kidding.
Eddy was quiet, her face drawn. “Is this about Oscar?” she asked quietly.
I blinked at her. “Oscar?”
The name was not familiar to me at all.
“Oscar Deboise…” she trailed off.
“Is that my father?” I wondered. I had no clue what his name was, or if he actually existed. If I had to guess, I’d say Catherine had long ago diced him into small pieces and cemented him in her basement wall. Psycho.