Unfiltered & Unsaved (16 page)

“Thanks, Scott.” She gave him a shaky smile. He squeezed her shoulder before heading over to his truck. He’d known her since she’d moved to Rio Verde years ago; aside from her roommate, Scott was her closest friend.

Cass absently watched Dev once she’d finished the forms. After stabilizing the bike, he ran his hand over the shattered machine. He crawled over and around it, getting an idea of the damage as Cass watched nervously. There was another sideshow in a couple of weeks. Wrex expected her to race in it, motorcycle or no motorcycle. She’d prefer to ride her own, but if necessary she could ride someone else’s and split the cash with them. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

She put the paper with her contact information on a nearby toolbox.

“What’s the verdict?” she asked when she thought he’d been quiet for too long.

He stood up and again ran his hand along the ripped-up leather seat. Looking at the bike with a kind of regret, Dev walked over to her. “Truth?”

She nodded, noticing that his brown eyes had flecks of gold and green in them. And he had stupid long lashes, the kind girls would kill for. Yeah, he was right up her alley—which meant she’d be a complete and total idiot if she seriously thought about being with him. Her track record hovered somewhere between last place and flaming crash of death. She told her hormones to be quiet and focused on what he was telling her.

He sighed. “You’d be better off selling it for scrap.”

That bike had been with her for five
years
. It was the one constant in her relatively craptastic life. Years ago, she’d saved all the money she could get her hands on, taking on any job—babysitting, yardwork, afterschool—that would pay her something. She learned long ago to hide her money where her father wouldn’t look for it, and when she’d finally had enough, she’d gone and bought the twisted wreck that sat before her now. She’d been eighteen. Dev’s words made her feel like she was being told to pull the plug on a loved one.

“No,” she said.

She saw Dev raise his eyebrows at her, as if he didn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Look,” he began, grabbing a rag from a rolling toolbox and wiping his hands, “I could do the work, sure. But it’s going to take a while to get the parts and we might need to scavenge for some.”

“I need the bike fixed. Fast.” She stared at him, hoping he’d agree to the work.

Dev rubbed the back of his neck with a clean section of the rag. He looked back over at the bike. “You obviously didn’t lay it down.” His gaze locked with hers, and Cass found it next to impossible to look away. “Your bike was trashed.”

She swallowed nervously. Those eyes saw more than they should.

“Since you’re coming to me to have it fixed, I’m guessing it wasn’t you doing it for the insurance.” He raised his eyebrows at her, as if daring her to contradict him.

Cass looked down, snapping the elastic hair tie she wore around her wrist. The week had been beyond crappy, going into another realm entirely. This was just the icing on the cake.

She felt a light touch on her arm. Dev had stepped closer, a concerned expression on his face. He smelled like metal and motor oil and sweat. Her toes curled inside her boots. This was so totally unfair.

“You race, don’t you?” Dev’s voice was soft, like if he talked too loud he’d scare her away. When she didn’t answer him, he sighed. “You need to stay away from Wrex. This looks like his style, and trust me, you don’t want to wind up owing him.”

Cass knew she shouldn’t have been surprised he knew about Wrex. If he was the mechanic of choice for some of the sideshow racers, he was bound to have seen—and probably repaired—Wrex’s crew’s handiwork. As for not owing Wrex? That ship had sailed six months ago when her brother had bet more than he could possibly afford to lose. She’d tried paying him off with her money from that night at The Coffee Cave, but he’d refused it. “Will you do the work, or do I need to find someone else?”

Dev dropped his hand from her arm.

Cass wrapped her fingers around the place where his hand had been, chasing the warmth of him.

Turning away, he dropped the rag back on the toolbox. “I can do it.”

Cass heard the distance in his voice. She guessed he thought she was being stupid or stubborn, that she was some dumbass girl who didn’t know what she was getting into. She clenched her jaw, telling herself it didn’t bother her, that she didn’t care what he thought. He was her mechanic. He would fix her bike. It didn’t matter what he thought of her.

“How long?”

He raised an eyebrow. She saw a slow grin cross his face as he looked her up and down. “When will it be ready?” she rephrased, giving him a sour look.

He shrugged. “No idea. I can’t say what other work I’ll have coming in and how long it will take to get parts.”

“Two weeks?” Her next race would probably be around that time.

He snorted. “Are you kidding? I’ll be lucky to finish it in twice that.”

Cass folded her arms across her chest. He put his hands up. “Look, sweetheart, yours isn’t the only bike I’m working on. And we’re not talking a tune up. This is pretty much a complete rebuild. That kind of thing takes time.”

Her eyes lingered on her motorcycle. “How much?” Maybe if she kicked in extra money, Dev would put a rush on it.

He shrugged. “Couple of thousand, easy. Depends on how difficult the rebuild is. But I’ve got a few more projects in front of this one.”

Cass frowned. She needed to race. Wrex was counting on her showing, even if her bike wasn’t road ready. If she didn’t, bad things would happen. To her and the people she cared about. As much as she loved her Superhawk, it wasn’t going to be ready in time.

She was going to have to buy a new bike.

The thought sent her pulse racing. Cass felt sweat break out across her chest and at the small of her back, soaking her shirt. She could buy a new motorcycle, no problem. She had a backpack full of cash sitting under her bed. It was where that money came from that was the problem.

Cass tried not to think about that night at The Coffee Cave. It had only been two weeks ago, but she was repressing for all she was worth—she was pretty sure she would medal in it if it ever became an Olympic sport. She hadn’t been out front when the guy got shot. She’d been in the back, interrupting the growing argument between the two drunk girls and the young Republican who’d tumbled out of the bathroom on top of the hippie chick. A strange guy had been back there too, with his phone out, but what his business was, Cass hadn’t really cared.

That was when she’d heard the gunshot.

Sugar, the other barista, was on the floor. The guy was bleeding out next to her. Jess—a regular—stood nearby, with Sugar’s revolver clutched in her shaking hand. And then everything had gone to hell.

They had all agreed to keep quiet and split the money Sugar had found in the dead guy’s trunk. One of the drunk girls was going to cremate the body, and the hippie chick was going to get rid of the car. The only reminder of the shooting and her part in covering it up was the money. She and Sugar had agreed to quit their jobs at The Cave, and they’d only spoken once since, and that was only for Sugar to tell Cass she was leaving town and Cass should think about doing the same.

Cass had wanted to. She wanted to skip town and start somewhere else more than anything. She didn’t want to race for Wrex anymore; she wanted to go back to only riding her Superhawk when she wanted to, but her brother had nixed that idea when he refused to leave with her. So here she stayed.

And now she was left dealing with both her own drama and the worries from that night at The Cave.

Her collection of thin silver bracelets jangled as she put up a hand to rub her temple. The massive stress headache that had been building all day had just flared sharply, stabbing into her skull. Perfect. Cass sighed. “Do it. Whatever it takes. Just do it.”

He didn’t reply.

After a moment, she looked up. Dev was standing next to her, looking at her curiously. Cass didn’t want to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t help it. And when she did meet his gaze, she found she couldn’t look away. It both excited her and scared the crap out of her.

“You okay?” he asked, a concerned look on his face.

She brushed dark hair out of her face and nodded. “Yeah. It’s just not the news I wanted to hear, you know?” Cass gave him a shaky smile.

Dev grinned back and Cass felt her knees go weak. This was quite possibly the worst time to get interested and invested in some guy. She had serious problems to deal with. A hot mechanic was not going to be among them.

“You were looking a little green.” His gaze skimmed over her again.

“It’s not easy, you know.”

“What, being green?” He grinned.

She rolled her eyes, groaning. “I left myself open for that one,” she conceded, lightly smacking his arm. “I meant, leaving without my bike.” She shrugged it off, trying not to sound like a sentimental idiot.

“I’m more than happy to help you with a new ride,” a voice Cass knew and loathed interrupted.

She turned, her mouth pressing into a hard line. Wrex and one of his heavies stood in the open bay’s doorway. As she watched, he took a step closer to her.

Wrex was tall, slim, and handsome, his body all whipcord and bone. Dyed blond hair hung into electric blue eyes, eyes so bright and jumpy it looked like he was plugged into a wall socket. He wasn’t as big as Dev, but he was fast and mean and more than a little unpredictable. He twitched into the bay, a wide smile stretching his thin-lipped mouth almost too far, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. His leg-breaker stayed just outside of the garage.

One night. One stupid, bad decision night. The image of Wrex’s naked back flashed into her memory. It had been a fling for her. She thought it had been the same for him. In the last six months of dodging his calls and avoiding his hands, she’d come to realize that it wasn’t so.

Cass was the Queen of Bad Decisions.

“Shame about your Superhawk.” Wrex nodded his head in the bike’s direction.

Cass felt angry words rise in the back of her throat, but she swallowed them down. As much as she hated him, she couldn’t antagonize him. He came closer, close enough to touch her. She didn’t want to take a step back, but she sure as hell didn’t want his hands on her. Not ever again.

Dev came up beside her, his presence a sudden comfort.

Wrex raised an eyebrow, but backed off a few steps. “What’s up, Dev? Haven’t seen you at a show in a while, man.”

Cass tried to keep the surprise from her face, but she didn’t think she did a very good job. Dev used to go to the sideshows? She had never seen him at one, so it must have been a year since he’d showed.

“Got busy.” Dev crossed his arms across his chest, muscles rippling beneath his gasoline shirt. “What do you want?”

“Ah, come on, man. That’s no way to greet a friend.” Wrex’s grin changed, turned harder, less pleasant.

Dev didn’t say anything, but his expression made it clear that they were something, but friends wasn’t it.

Before the silence could stretch out for too long, Wrex put up his hands, like he was placating the mechanic. “Just checking on my girl. Heard she was here. Wanted to make sure she got treated right.”

“I’m not your girl,” Cass ground out, teeth gritted so tightly she was pretty sure she’d just cracked a molar. God, she didn’t want to Dev to think she was Wrex’s
anything
.

His smile turned wolfish. “You drive for me, sweetheart. That makes you
mine
.”

She dug her fingernails into her palms, wanting to snap at him. She raced for him, but that didn’t mean he owned her. Wrex’s proprietary gaze made her want to take a shower. With hydrochloric acid.

“I’ve got work to do,” Dev said, his voice a rumble in his chest.

Wrex eyed Dev. “That work her Superhawk?” He grinned. “You might want to reconsider that, brother.”

“I’m not your brother,” Dev practically snarled. “And I haven’t decided yet.”

The blond grinned, eyes blazing in the overhead lights. “Word to the wise,
bro
. You might want to think long and hard about the kind of work you take.” He winked. “Wouldn’t want to end up on the wrong side of something you’re better off staying out of.”

Dev didn’t say anything, just speared Wrex with a level gaze. If he was bothered by the other man’s threat, he didn’t show it. “Be seein’ you,” he said in a tone that implied Wrex shouldn’t let the door hit him on the ass on the way out.

“Count on it, Devlin.” Wrex signaled to his muscle. “Take it easy, Cass. Say hi to Liam for me.” He gave her one final grin before heading back out into the parking lot.

“Tweaker,” Dev said, lip raised in a sneer. He began pick up stray parts and tools. “Why the hell are you with him?”

“I’m not
with
him,” Cass hissed, feeling angry and trapped and
stuck
.

“You’re racing for him! What the hell else would you call it?”

Blackmail? Overdeveloped sense of responsibility? Crap luck? She discarded each smart ass answer as it came to her. “You don’t know a damn thing about it!”

He flung a wrench into the box. “You’re right, I don’t. Find someone else to work on your goddamn bike. I don’t need this kind of hassle. Maybe Wrex or Liam or whoever else you’re in with can recommend a mechanic.”

Who did this guy think he was?
Her fury spiked, turning her insides to magma. He might be hotter than the surface of the sun, but he didn’t get to make assumptions about her and talk to her like that. No one did.

“Liam’s my brother,” she snapped, her voice throaty and low from trying to keep a handle on her anger. “And before you go making any more assumptions about exactly who or what I am, understand that I am not one of Wrex’s skanks.” She’d slept with Wrex before she knew what he was really like. But that wasn’t something she was going to share. “My brother made some bad decisions, and I’m trying to get him out of it. End of story.”

Dev rocked back on his heels, and eyed her. “Why are you telling me this?”

Because you’re hot
didn’t seem like a particularly good answer, even if it was true.
Because I can’t stand you looking at me like I’m some kind of mouth-breathing imbecile, especially when I really want to see you naked
was also a bad choice. Cass was running out of options here. Her hands clenched into fists in her frustration.