Faster Longer (Take Me...#3) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) (3 page)

“The Grand Prix must be over,” Mom remarks. “And it doesn’t
sound like the outcome is too rosy.”

We listen as the team storms out of the guest house, back
toward the main building. The front door crashes open, and a dozen angry voices
rise up from the foyer.

“Of course that motherfucker won,” I hear Enzo growl,
“That’s just what we need today.”

“I was hoping for Rostov or Landers,” Gus puts in, “Anyone
but that smug fuck—”

“We should have seen it coming,” Dad cuts in, “He’s been
inching up through the ranks while we’ve been distracted by Davies.”

Mom and I trade glances and hurry across my bedroom
together. We step out into the hallway and look down over the banister. Below,
the men of Team Ferrelli pace like a bunch of caged wild dogs, snarling and out
for blood.

“What happened?” Mom asks, drawing the eyes of every man
toward us.

For a moment, the team is too startled to see me to speak. I
feel the heavy gazes of Enzo, my dad, all of them on me, weighing me down into
the ground. Part of me wants to curl up in a little ball and hide away, but I
listen to my mother and stand my ground against their anger.

“Rafael Marques took first place,” Dad finally says, “He’s
closing in on us. Fast.”

“We can’t afford to drop out of first for the rest of the
tournament,” Enzo goes on, “Between Marques and
Romeo
,
we’ve got enemies on all sides.”

“I guess you’d like to have it out, right Enzo?” I ask coolly.

“Really Siena,” he sighs, “I have nothing left to say to
you.”

“Why don’t you gentlemen leave us alone for a little family
meeting?” my mother cuts in.  “I think there are some beers in the kitchen,
feel free to help yourselves.”

Gus ushers the bulk of Team Ferrelli out of the room as Mom
and I descend the stairs. Dad’s eyes are tired as he watches our progress, but
Enzo’s are simply cold. I can’t believe I’ve done something to earn not just
his anger, but his indifference. If I didn’t know how serious this was before,
it’s clear as day now.

“Here we are,” Mom says, crossing her arms, “All my
ducklings back in one place. I swear, I let you head off on one tournament
without me and all hell breaks loose.”

“There’s really only one person here who derailed the entire
train,” Enzo says pointedly.

“That, Son, is simply not true,” Mom says, “Your behavior’s
been just as questionable as your sister’s. Causing fights and wrecks? Chasing
members of another team? You don’t have as much room to cast judgment as you
think.”

Enzo opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it.
Mom has always gotten the last word in this house, usually because she’s right.
It feels nice to have an ally for once in this mess of a situation.

“So, what do you think we should do?” Dad asks, “Pretend
like nothing’s happened? Fight back?”

“Find out who’s spreading rumors about our family and make
sure they shut their mouths,” Mom replies, “That’s what we need to focus on
now. In the meantime, we’ll keep our heads high and carry on. You’ll all head
back to London tomorrow so Enzo can keep training and Siena can figure out
what’s going on between her and Harrison.”

“You’re not actually encouraging that?” Enzo says.

“Just as much as I’m encouraging you to keep on with your
Shelby, if you so choose,” Mom replies.

“What?” I cry, “Shelby’s a vile monster!”

“So is Harrison,” Enzo shoots back.

“If you two are finished fighting like children,” Mom cuts
us off, “I think we need to take the rest of the night off from worrying about
this. Neither of you looks as if you’ve slept in days. You came here to get
your wits together, didn’t you? Fighting isn’t going to help you clear your
heads and come at the next Grand Prix fresh. You need to take a load off, eat
some vegetables, get yourselves together. That’s how we’re going to fight this
thing.”

“Right as ever,” Dad says, slipping an arm around Mom’s
waist.

“And you need to relax more than anyone,” Mom says, chucking
Dad under the chin, “Look at those bags under your eyes.”

“I’m afraid I’m not going to get any prettier in the next
few months,” Dad says quietly.

“Don’t be silly,” Mom says, “You’ll always be the most handsome
man in the world, Alfonso. Well, one of two, counting your son.”

“So that’s it?” Enzo says, “We’re just supposed to pretend
like nothing’s wrong and have family game night or something?”

“Precisely,” Mom smiles, “Now come on. Dinner isn’t going to
make itself.”

Mom and Dad follow the team into the kitchen, leaving Enzo
and I alone for the first time in weeks. He looks at me without a trace of
sympathy, and I feel my heart splinter even further. How did we come to this?
Enzo has always been my best friend in the world, now he can barely even stand
to look at me.

“We’re going to make this right,” I tell him.

But he doesn’t even reply. He simply shakes his head and
stalks off toward the kitchen, leaving me to scurry along behind him like a
little sister I am. I guess old habits die hard, especially where family is
concerned.

Despite Mom’s best efforts, the hours crawl by in a haze of
tension and raw nerves. I try and play nice with Enzo, but his every word seems
to be barbed and meant to hurt me. Between my brother’s passive aggressive
jabs, Charlie’s cold shouldering, the team’s unwillingness to meet my gaze, and
Mom’s chipper insistence that everything is fine, I’m totally overwhelmed.
Coming here was supposed to be helpful, soothing. But instead, all I can think
about is whether I was hasty in leaving Harrison’s side.

I excuse myself from the after-dinner lounging downstairs
and retreat to my bedroom. I claim exhaustion, but I’m really just in need of a
single moment alone in the midst of this publicity shit storm. I’m not used to
being the center of attention, not by a long shot. I’m not really sure how to
handle myself, how anyone handles their private life being scrutinized by the
public. This whole thing almost makes me want to give Enzo a little more credit
for being remotely well-adjusted.
“Almost”
being the operative word, there.

Shutting my bedroom door quietly behind me, I take a deep,
cleansing breath in the darkness of my bedroom. Alone up here, listening to the
far off conversation downstairs, reminds me of so many nights of my childhood.
The grownups and team members would convene downstairs and I’d sneak up here,
away from the bustle and noise. This room has always been my asylum. But
crossing to my little balcony, I realize with a sinking sadness that this place
is no longer where I feel most secure. My new sanctuary is in Harrison’s
arms—and I was foolish enough to leave just when I needed them most. 

No,
you were right to leave
, I encourage myself, stepping out onto the
narrow terrace that leads off my bedroom. The moon has risen round and full,
its light dappled along the hills and groves that spread out across our
property. I think back to that horrible article I read just this morning, the
details it dredged up about not only me, but Harrison and Shelby, Enzo and my
dad. Every secret I was set on keeping was printed right there for the world to
see. And some of Harrison’s secrets made it in, too.

I just don’t know what to make of the fact that he and
Shelby were an item. I can’t stand the woman, and I’m hurt that Harrison didn’t
tell me. But if he’s telling the truth, if the picture of them was taken out of
context, can I really hold his past relationships against him? I’ve certainly
dated my fair share of unfortunate specimens. It just hurts, having grown so
close to someone and realizing that I don’t even know the entirety of his past.

If he kept Shelby a secret from me, what else is he hiding?
Is there any weight to the accusation that he’s been using me all this time? As
much as infidelity would sting, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as devastating as
learning that Harrison’s feelings for me were entirely fabricated—a performance
to throw Enzo off his game. With so many rumors flying through the air, I have
no idea what to believe any more.

The sound of raised voices floats across our property like a
phantom. I frown at the unexpected noise—the commotion is too far off to be
coming from the post-dinner gathering downstairs. I look off toward our front
gates and remember the media circus that lingers there still. I feel my stomach
flip as I imagine what new bone the press might have gotten a hold of. I’ve put
off reading the internet or looking at any other newspapers since this morning.
My story could be getting skewed in any direction and I wouldn’t even know.

I’m just about to turn back inside to ask my family what the
deal is when another far more familiar sound catches my ear. A revving engine
growls up our driveway. Squealing tires sing out in the night. In the distance,
headlights spring up out of nowhere, barreling toward our front door. There’s a
car racing toward our house at top speed, but the vehicle travels along smooth
as silk. Not many people could handle a car like that. In fact, I’ve only seen
one man operate a vehicle with so much grace and ease.

“You’ve got to be kidding...” I breathe, clutching onto the
balcony railing.

The headlights grow closer and closer as the car zooms along
our drive. In a blaze of light and sound, it skids to a halt just before our
front steps, growling like a big cat. The engine cuts suddenly, along with the
gleaming lights. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness as a car door
opens and slams shut again. I peer over the railing, trying to see in the dim
moonlight. A huge figure straightens up beside the car, taking long strides
toward the front door of my family’s home. The soft light from above gleams
against our visitor’s eyes—his gorgeous, sky blue eyes.

“Harrison?” I breathe.

Just below my window, the most beautiful face in the world
turns up toward mine. The world comes back into focus around me. A crooked
smile spreads across Harrison Davies lips as he crosses his cut arms.

“There you are,” he calls up, “Sorry it took me so long to
come after you. There were a few dozen reporters I had to scare off my lawn
before I could get away.”

“And fifty more at the front gates,” I remind him, “I’m sure
they’re all pretty grateful to you for the photo op you just gave them.”

“Frankly Siena,” Harrison drawls, affecting the worst
southern accent I’ve ever heard in my life, “I don’t give a damn”.

I laugh despite myself, so relieved to see him smiling. “You
really need to keep your day job, Harrison. I don’t think you have a future on
the big screen.”

“Just the computer screen, apparently. Have you looked at
the blogs?”

“Absolutely not,” I tell him. 

“You should,” he says, “We need to see what people are
saying so that we can come back with our own story. Our real story.”

“You still want to try and make this work?” I ask, “Even
after I stormed out on you this morning and everything?”

“I deserved to be stormed out on,” Harrison says, “Siena,
I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about my fling with Shelby. That was wrong. I
didn’t mention it because it meant absolutely nothing to me, to either of us.
We were bored, and lonely, and it was stupid, but I should have told you the
truth from the start.”

“And what about the rest of the article?” I shoot back,
“What about using me to get to Enzo, make a name for yourself as an F1 leading
man?”

“I hope you think enough of me to discount those rumors out
of hand,” Harrison replies, “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you think
any of that bullshit is true. Can you, Siena?”

“No,” I whisper, “No Harrison, I can’t.”

“I know,” he says, taking a step forward, “I love you,
Siena.”

“I love you too,” I tell him, leaning over the railing.
Staring down at him in the moonlight, I’m suddenly struck with the hilarity of
our situation. Uncontrollable laughter grabs hold of me, making me double over
in the darkness.

“What so funny?” Harrison asks.

“I...I’m standing here...on a freaking
balcony
...” I
giggle, “We spent our first night together...hooking up in a bathroom, and here
we are practically rehearsing for
Romeo
and Juliet
, just like they say. What a couple of saps we’ve become.”

“You’ve got a point,” Harrison grins.

My laughter cuts off as a sliver of yellow light falls
across Harrison’s face, widening until he’s bathed in it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” I hear Enzo
say from the front doorway.

“Shit,” I mutter, turning on my heel and streaking down the
staircase.

In the foyer, all of Team Ferrelli has gathered behind Enzo,
peering through the doorway. Just as I hit the tile of our front hall, Enzo
strides out onto the driveway, fists balled up tight. Gus and Charlie lunge
after him as Bex stands beside my dad, keeping him from joining in the
impending fray. Mom is waiting for me at the foot of the steps. She offers out
her hand and I take it. This is exactly the kind of situation she knows how to
handle best. Together, we hurry out into the night to keep Harrison and Enzo
from tearing each other limb from limb.

“You have some nerve,” Enzo is saying as I step outside.

“I wanted to come and explain myself,” Harrison says,
holding up his hands.

“We are so beyond that, Davies,” Enzo growls, “And we’re far
away from any F1 track. I could beat you senseless and no one would be able to
stop me.”

“I beg to differ,” I say, running around to place myself
between Enzo and Harrison.

“Get out of the way, Siena,” Enzo tells me, “This asshole
has made a mockery out of you. Out of all of us.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell my brother, “You’re going
to hear Harrison out.”

“Like hell,” Enzo scoffs.

“I wanted to come talk to you, and your father, and your
whole team,” Harrison barrels on, “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that
this has gotten so messy. I wanted to tell you how much I care about Siena.”

“The only thing you care about your own publicity,” Enzo
shoots back.

“I know I can’t make you believe me. Words don’t mean anything
to men of action like ourselves,” Harrison says, laying a hand on my arm, “But
things are going to be different now, Enzo. Believe me. The world knows about
me and Siena now. We can stop sneaking around. We can be a real couple.”

“Over my dead body,” Enzo replies.

“It’s not your decision, whether I stay with Harrison or
not,” I tell my brother, “It’s mine. This team doesn’t own me. You don’t own
me, Enzo.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” my brother cries,
“I’m trying to keep you away from this son of a bitch. Why can’t you open your
eyes and see that? You’re so blinded by whatever bullshit he’s been—”

“If you let me, I can convince you that I’m worth your
sister’s time,” Harrison insists. “I don’t mean you any harm, Enzo. I know
there’s bad blood between us, but I want to make it right. I want to prove to
you that I’m a decent guy. Really.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Enzo scoffs.

“First of all, by showing you that I really do have your
best interests at heart, too. I want you to be happy, your whole family,
because I want you to know that I think of you as my own. So I thought I might
bring you a little bit of company that you might have been missing,” Harrison
says, looking back at his car and nodding.

The rest of us stare at the vehicle as the passenger door
swings open. Out into the moonlight steps a familiar, statuesque beauty. The
world wobbles around me as Shelby takes a tentative step toward us, smiling
bashfully.

“Shelby?” Enzo says, jaw falling open.

“Hi Enzo,” the British knockout replies, “Hope you don’t
mind me surprising you—”

Her words are cut off as Enzo closes the space between them,
taking her up into his arms. I raise my eyebrows at the display. I always had
my brother pegged for the womanizing, serial dater type. What’s with all these
F1 bad boys going all lovey-dovey all of a sudden? There must be something in
the water.

“Too soon, ” I say, cocking an eyebrow at Harrison.

“Shelby and I wanted to come here together, to explain to
you both what’s happened in the past.
Strictly
the past,” Harrison says,
“We want to make amends, across the board. To come at this problem and fix it
once and for all. To figure out who the hell is trying to take us down and to
stop this bullshit before it can spread any further. What do you say, Enzo?
Enzo...”

“I can’t believe you’re here” my brother says, staring
dreamily into Shelby’s face.

“That makes two of us,” Shelby coos, “It feels like a
lifetime.”

“For god’s sake,” I mutter, “Pull it together, people.”

“That picture in the paper this morning, of Shelby and I
kissing, it wasn’t a fake,” Harrison says, “But it’s ancient. You have to
believe that.”

“I never even gave a bloody damn for Harrison. Not really,”
Shelby tells Enzo, “I just figured I might as well marry rich if I couldn’t
find someone to love. But now...”

“You can do both?” I mutter.

Shelby looks at me sharply, taking a deep breath. She
wiggles out of Enzo’s arms and crosses the lawn toward me, taking my hands in
hers.

“I know that I’ve been rude to you,” Shelby says, bending
down just slightly to meet my eye level, “I know that I haven’t given you any
reason to like me. But Harrison told me that you suspect me of being behind
this craziness, and I need you to know that it’s not true. I would never do
something like this. Harrison is my dear friend. And your brother...well. He’s
becoming something a bit more—”

“If you aren’t behind this, what was your picture doing on
the front page of the paper this morning? Who else could be the source who
leaked Harrison’s email?”

“It’s called the internet, Siena,” Shelby laughs, “Anything
that’s on the Web is fair game to a good enough hacker. Hell, that picture was
right on Twitter for the world to see. And Harrison’s not exactly a genius at
protecting himself online.”