Surge: Bad Boy Racing Romance (Fastlane Series Book 1) (11 page)

As luck would have it, the points leader, Gunter Kass, had engine trouble with only ten laps remaining and had to retire from the race. When it happened, Darren reached in my direction and in a moment of spontaneity, he hugged me, yelling at the top of his lungs, “We’re gonna win! We’re gonna fucking win!”

Not long after, Darren’s prediction came true as Dyson roared across the finish line. Marco finished a close second behind his teammate. Minutes later, we scrambled to the winners circle. Dyson drove in, pumping his fist in celebration.

The entire team, the media and race officials crowded around Dyson’s car. He brought it to a stop and after unbuckling himself from his safety gear, he climbed out and the celebration got underway.

After a round of high-fives with his teammates, Dyson spoke to the media about the victory. I lingered nearby, listening in as the interview unfolded. When it concluded, Dyson raised his arms in celebration once again. A loud roar broke out. Grinning from ear to ear, Dyson held his race helmet in one hand and pumped it in the air over and over again.

I smiled and clapped, caught up in the celebration.

In the midst of it all, Dyson happened to glance in my direction and extended his free hand towards me. Wiggling his fingers, he motioned for me to approach. Without thinking, I walked towards him, fully aware of the dozens of pairs of eyes watching me while I did.

When I’d drawn to within a couple of feet, Dyson snatched me by the wrist and pulled me hard against his torso. Disoriented by the speed of it, I hadn’t even had time to figure out what happened before I felt his lips press against my cheek. No sooner had he done it than another deafening roar rippled through the crowd.

“Fuck yeah!” Dyson yelled, looking out over them. “Fuck yeah!”

Before I could say a word, a sea of arms and hands separated us, lifting Dyson into the air and carrying him away. Not long after, the crowd started to thin. I reached up and touched the spot on my cheek where he’d kissed me moments earlier. I glanced around, unsure if anyone even noticed.

It was possible he’d been swept up in the excitement of winning. Probably that’s exactly what had happened. A few seconds later I dropped my hand away from the side of my face, realizing that it probably meant nothing whatsoever.

The celebration continued.

Even though I was happy for him and the rest of the guys on the team, the only thing I cared about doing next was getting home to see Simon as soon as possible. Every minute between the end of this race and the time when I was expected to be in Los Angeles was precious to me. I walked away, leaving them all to continue the party. Making my way through the throng of people, I finally emerged from it a minute or so later.

Glad to be free of the crowd at last, I stopped to catch a breath. I looked up and saw them both standing there. Anastasia and Svetlana scowled at me, arms crossed and from the looks of it, ready for a fight.

I returned their icy glare with one of my own. Nothing was going to stop me from getting home to see Simon, especially not them. Without hesitating, I walked straight towards them, preparing myself for the first punch, kick or scratch.

They watched me, never blinking, and hardly moving. Every muscle in my body flexed. I had no doubt what was about to happen. Moisture drained from my mouth.

But much to my surprise, by the time I closed to within a couple of feet of them, they stepped aside. Wordless, they allowed me to pass between them. I slowed for just a fraction of a second, glancing at each of them before continuing.

“Cunt,” one of them mumbled. I wasn’t certain which of them said it.

I froze in place, while my fingers threatened to curl into fists. Every fiber of my being wanted to have it out with them once and for all. Instead, like a peaceful mantra, one word came to mind.

Simon.

I closed my eyes with a slow blink and kept on moving, not looking back even once.

AVA

A few days after my bizarre encounters with Anastasia and Svetlana, I arrived home in Austin for a brief visit before moving on to the next stop on the circuit.

I planned on spending as much time as I could with Simon while I was there. But before I did, I made sure to swing by the office and talk to all of my coworkers and Dr. Wilcox.

In spite of my struggles since leaving, the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him. He loved Formula One so much I knew he would have given almost anything to be in my position. Only his work ethic and dedication to his patients kept him from fulfilling what was probably one of his biggest dreams in life. I certainly didn’t want to be disrespectful by accident, just because I wasn’t prepared for life on the road.

Predictably, he wanted to know about all of my experiences since joining the team a few weeks earlier. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time talking about all of the good parts and mentioning the less desirable ones with little more than a throwaway comment or two.

Otherwise, I was surprised at how much I missed being around my friends at the office. It’s funny how I’d taken their presence in my life for granted. It made me feel good that they felt the same way. It probably goes without saying then, that the happiness I felt from reuniting with not only them but Simon and of course, Jillian, filled me with much-needed joy.

It wasn’t so much that Dyson, Marco, Darren and the rest of the team members didn’t appreciate me, but nothing compared to the family and friends I had at home in Austin. And so it was that on the evening of my final night at home, the three of us sat around the dinner table, enjoying each other’s company.

Since I’d come home, Simon hounded me with an endless series of questions about what it was like to be on the inside of the Formula One racing team. Like I’d done with Dr. Wilcox, I chose to leave out the parts of it I didn’t care for and instead made it sound irresistible to a kid like him.

Anyway, after we finished eating, I sent him to his room to get ready for bed while I chatted with Jillian in the kitchen. She was predictably interested in Dyson. Although I told her on more than one occasion over the phone nothing was going on, I’d had a feeling she’d grill me about it when I got home.

It turned out that my suspicion was correct.

“I was watching the race the other day you know,” she said, wiping off one of our dinner plates with a sponge. “I saw him kiss you.”

I rolled my eyes. I hadn’t seen the television footage, so I didn’t know how it came across. But in the moment there was nothing to it. It was simple excitement on his part, just celebration.

“You don’t understand,” I began. “What you saw on TV——it wasn’t a big deal. Really. It was just a spontaneous kind of thing.”

“Uh huh. Sure it was,” she replied, snapping one hand to her hip. “Cut the crap, Ava.”

I frowned at her. “What? I’m telling you the truth. Believe me, Dyson has no shortage of women to pick from. Ask me how I know.”

Jillian froze in place, holding one of our dinner plates between her thumb and index finger. “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

For a moment or two, I debated whether or not I would tell her about my run-in with the girls after the race. At the last instant, I thought better of it.

“You know what? Um, it’s nothing. Never mind.”

“Oh no… No, no, no,” Jillian groaned. “You don’t get to leave town for nearly a month and then hold out on all the juicy gossip.”

I shook my head. “I’m not holding out on anything. Trust me.”

“Bullshit,” she fired back.

I widened my eyes. “Jillian, watch your mouth.
Simon?
”

A sheepish grin spread across her face. She shrugged. “Sorry.”

Realizing I had next to no chance of resisting her incessant questioning, I relented and spent the next few minutes updating her about my drama with the Grid Girls.

“Wow,” Jillian began. “It sounds like those two are really insane.”

I nodded. “If there ever was such a thing as an understatement, that’s it.”

Jillian laughed. In fact, I was just about to tell her what they’d called me in Miami just before I left, but suddenly, my cell phone started to ring. I’d left it on the dining room table during dinner. After exiting the kitchen, I walked towards it and picked it up, flipping it over to see who it was.

The display flashed, ‘Unlisted’ across it.

“Who is it?” Jillian asked, without turning around to face me.

I shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Yet almost as soon as I said that, I remembered I was supposed to receive a call from team management about the schedule in Los Angeles.

“Oh, right. I think it’s about tomorrow. The team,” I said, swiping the phone on and raising it to my ear.

“Hello?”

A strangely familiar male voice replied.

“Well, well.”

A knot formed in my stomach. Silence fell over the line. I tightened my grip on the phone. “Who is this?”

“You know God damn well who this is, Ava.”

I felt my eyes widen in their sockets. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I stared at it in disbelief. Jillian noticed my sudden silence and turned around towards me.

Her forehead creased with wrinkles of concern. “Who is it? Ava, is everything okay?”

“It… It can’t be.”

With my mouth hanging open, I stared at her and slowly returned the phone to the side of my head. “Gene?”

After a ragged exhale, I received the horrible confirmation. “You were expecting someone else?”

AVA

Gene Philo.

Simon’s sperm donor, aka, Deadbeat dad and weasel like none other. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since he found out my sister was pregnant.

And now, all of a sudden, he’s back?

“How did you get my number, Gene?” I asked, biting my lip.

Jillian raised her hands to her mouth before lowering them a fraction. “Gene?” she mouthed. “Are you serious?”

I nodded and just then, he began to speak.

“Shut up, Ava,” he growled. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t call you so you could ask me a bunch of fucking questions.”

“Fuck you!” I exclaimed, before slapping my hand over my mouth.

Gene’s signature hyena-like laugh echoed in my ear. “I see you haven’t changed one bit, Ava.”

I removed my hand from my lips. “Why are you calling me? What do you want?”

“I already told you to shut up. Just like your sister, you Walters women… You don’t listen to a God damn word.”

Shaking my head, I exited the kitchen as fast as I could, almost jogging as I ran down the hall to my bedroom.

Gene continued to talk.

“You’re looking as pretty as ever, I see.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

He ignored me.

After closing my bedroom door, I sat down on the mattress, hanging my feet over the side. Trembling, I leaned forward and dropped my head into my hand.

“What the hell do you want, Gene?” I hissed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get to that. But first, how’s my son?”

The fingers on my free hand began to curl into the shape of a fist. “Simon is not your son, you bastard. You lost that privilege a long time ago.”

Gene cackled once more. “Not according to the state. So, Ava, you can sit over there and pretend all you want, but the fact is Simon
is
my boy.”