Faster (Stark Ink, #3) (7 page)

“Ava, there’s nowhere to— !”

Ava hit the gas again and grabbed the wheel. The car spun sharply, hooking around a set of trash cans that had been grouped on the curb. The rear fender swiped one of them. Finally past them, Sienna could see the opening of the alley between two buildings. “My car!” she whined as she shot through the narrow, brick-lined space.

“Relax,” Ava said, turning in her seat. “They were just trash cans. The damage can’t be that bad.”

It wasn’t like hitting a brick wall, which she prayed Sienna didn’t do in this tight space. Ava had hoped the spilled cans would work in their favor and block the BMW, but it didn’t prove to be much of an obstacle. The bike was much more nimble than the Olds and had no problem maneuvering around the debris.

“Turn again,” Ava ordered. “Left.”

Sienna checked for oncoming traffic and spun out into the roadway. Ava finally took her foot off the gas, confident her friend could handle it now. “Faster,” she told Sienna.

“We’re in the middle of downtown,” Sienna argued.

“Sienna!”

“Okay, okay. But if I get a ticket, you’re paying it!”

Ava frowned and checked behind them again. If they got caught by the BMW, they’d get a hell of a lot more than a fine, but Ava kept her mouth shut. She turned forward again and glanced at the light up ahead. It changed from green to yellow.

“Go,” Ava encouraged Sienna.

Instead of obeying, though, Sienna’s foot let off the gas.

“Go!”

“It’s turning red!”

“Yeah! We’ll make it through. He won’t!”

“
Are you kidding me?!
” Sienna screeched.

Ava’s eyed darted from left to right. The closest car was just barely entering the crosswalk. “Just go!”

“Fuck me!”

“SIENNA!”

Sienna hit the gas. It was hard to know which squeal was loudest, the tires of the vintage car or the teenage girl behind the wheel. The Olds’ engine roared to life. Thousands of pounds of torque shot them forward. Ava gripped the door handle as they barreled toward the light that was now red.

She’d misjudged the distance of the nearest car. More tires squealed and a loud horn blared at them.

Sienna screamed.

They made it through the intersection though and rocketed down the street. Ava turned to see the BMW caught behind the stalled traffic. The rider slapped his handbrake in frustration.

Ava laughed. “Turn. Turn now,” she told Sienna. “And take the next one as soon as it comes up.”

“Which direction? Where are we going?”

“Head to your place. But go past the school,” Ava told her. “Take the long way. Hurry, though.”

When they were safely away, Sienna glared at her. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Ava chewed her lip but didn’t answer.

“Ava, I swear to God! My car is trashed and I just broke about every traffic law there is! Probably a few they haven’t written yet, but they will after tonight!”

“Your car’s not trashed,” Ava assured her.

“I bet it is,” Sienna pouted.

“Then I’ll get it fixed.”

“Swear?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Sienna snorted.

“Whatever,” Ava shot back. “
I will.
”

They appeared to have lost their tail. Ten minutes later and Sienna turned into their neighborhood. She pulled the Olds into the garage and hit the switch on the remote control clipped to the visor.

Ava didn’t let out her breath until the door nestled firmly onto the concrete, blocking the view of them from the street. Satisfied that they were safe, she reached for the door handle.

Sienna grabbed her arm, though, and held it tightly.

“Oh, no way,” she declared. “You are not getting out of this car until you tell me what the hell that was about!”

Ava turned back, ready to brush her friend off. The look on Sienna’s face told her that was a bad idea.

“My car has a
dent
in it! And we just broke about a dozen laws back there, some of them might have even been
felonies
. So you are
going
to tell me the
truth
, Ava Mae!”

Ava squirmed under her friend’s harsh gaze. There were some things Sienna just didn’t need to know, but it was clear that no one was going anywhere until it all came out. After a long moment, Ava took a deep breath. “Okay,” she finally replied.

Slowly, Sienna released her. “Well?” she demanded.

Ava felt a rush of guilt, not over the past, but for keeping Sienna in the dark. They were best friends, after all.

“Tonight?” Ava began and then paused.

Sienna raised one eyebrow.

Ava blew out a harsh breath. “Totally not my first felony.”

––––––––

I
t took half an hour to fill Sienna in on all the details. In the end, Ava wasn’t sure if her friend thought less or more of her.  Maybe it was better not to ask. Sienna ducked into her house from the interior garage door while Ava slipped out the side door that led to the side yard. It was only a quick stroll across the shared back yard before she made it up the steps of the back porch of her own house.

The living room light was on, but the rest of the place was dark. Pop would be in bed by now. Adam might still be awake, though. She tested the back door, found it unlocked, and stepped into the kitchen. In the living room beyond, she could see not one head on the couch, but two. Her heart nearly stopped. Both Adam and Jonah turned to look at her.

Ava tried to breathe normally as she deposited her keys and her phone on the kitchen counter. She noted with some disappointment that Jonah looked no worse for the wear despite having just gotten into a bar fight. She held her breath as her oldest brother rose from the couch.

“All right,” he announced, stretching as he spoke. “I’m hitting the rack.”

Without a word, he sauntered past her and down the hall.

Ava was stunned. Clearly, Jonah hadn’t been giving a report on her. Adam would likely be waiting with a car battery and a pair of pliers, ready to find out all of Ava’s secrets, if Jonah had said even a single word about the bar. Or Emilio. Or racing, which Emilio might very well have told Jonah about in between punches.

Jonah narrowed his eyes at her.

Ava scowled. How much did he know? How could she even find out? To ask anything risked revealing the fact that she was hiding something. A lot of somethings.

“What are you doing here?!” she hissed quietly, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure Adam was in his room.

Jonah narrowed his eyes at her. “Making sure you and Sienna got home. Which took one hell of a long time,” he pointed out.

Ava pressed her lips together. “It’s fine,” she assured him. “Sienna’s at home. She’s fine. Not that you really care,” she added, trying to shift the focus.

It worked, even though it made Ava feel like dog shit. Jonah’s mouth tightened and he looked away. “I care,” he replied quietly.

Ava hesitated. She’d never heard Jonah say anything of the sort before, about
anyone
, especially not her best friend. As far as she knew, Jonah spent his free time attempting to avoid Sienna like the plague. “She doesn’t think so.”

Jonah shook his head. “I can’t help what she thinks.”

Ava gaped at him. “Um, bullshit,” she told him. “You could just— ”

“I can’t
just
do anything.”

“But—”

“Drop it,” Jonah ordered. “And let’s get back to your Hispanic hero earlier tonight.”

Ava snarled at her brother. “He’s not my anything,” she snapped. “And what about him?”

“He wouldn’t say where you met him, exactly. Just said that you two were hanging out.”

Ava’s chin rose a notch. “What else did he say about me?”

Jonah shrugged. “That he’d seen you on your bike. And he was impressed.”

She snorted. “Impressive for a chick?”

“Actually, he said you were the best he’d seen, other than himself. Dude’s got an ego, that’s for sure. Not my problem, though. He seems all right. I’ve heard of his friends. Adam and Dalton know them.”

For some reason, Ava felt pleased that he’d said that about her. Not that she really cared what anyone thought, but still... “What friends?”

“They work at a garage. I think Adam used to take his bike there. It’s probably where I’ll end up going with mine.”

Ava bristled. “You’re going to check up on my Hispanic hero?”

Jonah lifted an eyebrow. The silver piercing glittered in the overhead light. “Thought you said he wasn’t your anything?”

“He’s not,” she argued. “But where’s this garage?”

Jonah rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not here to play matchmaker.”

“I need my oil changed!”

Oops. It was the wrong thing to say. Ava knew how to change her own oil and Jonah damn well knew it.

“I mean— ” she scrambled.

“Whatever,” Jonah said as he headed for the front door. “I don’t give a shit. The guy checks out. That’s all I care about. The garage is called Burnout. It’s in the same neighborhood as the bar.” He turned back. His eyes bored into her. “Which you won’t be going to,
ever again.
And sure as fuck
not
with Sienna,
right
?”

Ava shivered at his chilly tone. Between Jonah’s massive size and the slight air of menace that always seemed to surround him, he was more intimidating than Adam. Or Dalton. Or even Pop.

“I won’t go back,” she promised.

“Good,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. “Because I’m not a fucking babysitter.”

Ava resisted the urge to argue that she needed one. Jonah would never hurt her, not in a million years. But a shouting match would wake Adam and Pop and she’d be forced to explain more than she cared to.

As she watched the front door to the house close, her darker thoughts gave way to new possibilities. She knew Emilio’s name now, and where he worked. And he thought she was a damn good rider, unless he was just blowing smoke at Jonah. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. She was determined to find out, though, because damn, he was hot.

Her bike didn’t need any work, but she knew a vehicle that did.

A
va found the garage pretty easily. In fact, it wasn’t too far from Maria’s Bar. The low-slung building was set back from the street, surrounded by chain-link fencing. The front gate was open, though, and she turned into the crushed gravel lot. To her left there was a row of Harley’s, all black and chrome, all gleaming in the summer sun. The Interceptor stood out among them as the only racing bike, though it probably cost nearly as much as the others. 

She pulled up next to the Honda and killed the engine of the Olds. She heaved open the driver’s side door and planted her boot on the gravel. Instead of heading straight into the garage, though, she stopped long enough to admire the bike in daylight. Painted oxblood red, it had a leather seat to match. The muffler system had been modified and so had the clutch. It was nicer than her own Honda, quite a bit more expensive, especially with the after-market mods. Ava didn’t know which one she lusted after more: the bike or its rider. Though the issue was soon settled.

“Changed your mind about the ride?” The voice that came from behind her was smooth as silk, with that soft Latin lilt that melted like chocolate off his tongue.

Ava fought a shiver as she remembered just how that tongue tasted. Dark and spicy. She turned and he shook the keys at her.

“We could go now,” he offered.

Tempting as it was, she wasn’t that easily swayed. “Ride on your bitch seat? Forget it.” She batted her eyelashes at him comically. “You could just hand them over. Let me take it for a spin myself.”

His expression darkened just a bit.

Ava tried to look doe-eyed and innocent. “I’ll bring it right back,” she added. “Promise.”

He shook his head firmly. “No one drives my ride but me, chica. And we have other promises to keep.”

Ava smirked at him. “I never promised you anything.”

“Your mouth did, muñeca.” He stepped closer and leaned toward her to whisper, “And your nipples.”

She felt the familiar heat pooling in her belly. He was standing close enough for her to catch his scent: faint cologne and motor oil, a tempting combination to a girl like her. His hands were dirty and calloused and she wanted them on her. In the blazing South Dakota sun, his hair shone with glints of warm honey highlights among the darker strands. Ava’s own hands twitched with the urge to run her fingers through it.

Every time she saw him, he got impossibly hotter.

He glanced at the Olds, perusing it casually. “No bike today?”

“I- there’s a dent,” she replied and pointed to the rear fender. “It’s my friend’s car. It’s my fault, so I said I’d fix it for her.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up. His eyes twinkled in the strong sunlight. “You took a hammer to this car just so you’d have an excuse to come and see me? You don’t need an excuse. You could’ve just shown up. No need to abuse vintage cars on my account, muñeca.”

Ava gasped. “I did not! I...” She paused, realizing she couldn’t tell him the truth. “It was an accident!”

Emilio shook his head, though. He disagreed. “No, no, no, baby girl. You and me meeting in the canyons? That was no accident. That was fate.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Coincidence,” she insisted.

“Fate,” he argued.

“We’re just two people who happen to both like racing. That’s all.”

He smiled down at her. “Oh, I bet we have a lot more in common than just that.”

Ava smirked at him. Even if it was true, she didn’t want to find out. One and done. That was it. Well... maybe twice. It was all he was after anyway, surely. So maybe they did have that in common, at least.

“Doubtful,” she told him anyway, feeling contrary.

He shrugged. “Okay, then. Have it your way. Let’s just get your car fixed.”

He turned and walked away, back toward the garage.

Ava gaped at his retreating back. Unsure what to do now, she hopped forward and started to follow him inside. Once they passed under the open bay doors, she realized there were four other men, all of them large, all of them strangers.