Chapter 26 - The Tracks
"Willow. Stop being stubborn and take the money." Slate said for the hundredth time as we trailed behind the rest of the guys, making our way to the starting line.
I ignored the 50 dollar bill he was holding out in front of me and continued walking, causing him to release another annoyed sigh. He stepped in front of me forcing me to stop abruptly so I wouldn't knock into him. Now it was my turn to sigh.
"Slate, stop it. I think we both know I can easily afford a couple of burgers and milkshakes." I said stepping to the side so I could get around him. Once again, he blocked my path.
"We also know that the rest of the guys and I can afford to pay for our own food. I don't know what your last boyfriend made you think—" I rolled my eyes at his obvious jab at West "—but a gentleman always pays for the woman's food, not the other way around."
"Fine. Then take it as an apology, not a favour. I didn't know West was the new racer, okay? Our relationships complicated." I said sighing as I stared into Slate's gorgeous blue eyes. I always preferred blue to green.
"Your relationship with Ryder is none of my business." Slate said, his words coming out forced. I thought he was going to keep the fifty dollars but instead he reached behind me and tucked it into the back pocket of my ripped skinny jeans. I rolled my eyes for the millionth time today but my eyes widened when I saw his hand come back with my hotel room key card between his fingers. We both stared at the piece of plastic in his hand for a couple of seconds, neither of us saying anything.
"What the fúck is this?" Slate finally asked, his words harsh as he held up the piece of plastic that read 'Royal North Hotel" in front of my face. I quickly grabbed the card from his hands and pocketed it but I knew the damage was already done.
"Slate, don't make it a big deal..." I trailed off, despite a small part of me hoping he'd get mad. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but I can't help the fact that I find him insanely hot when he's mad.
"Please tell me you reserved a hotel room for your brother and that's why you have that key card in your pocket." Slate gritted out and I gave him a guilty half-smile that was an answer in itself, I could've made up an excuse but I think I'd done more than enough lying for a lifetime over the past few months. Slate ran a hand through his dark hair out of frustration and took a step closer to me, intoxicating me with his cinnamon scent.
"Since when?" Slate asked, clearly making an effort to be understanding, which made me smile a bit. I knew the only reason he got mad over things like this is because he was worried about me being all by myself in a hotel room downtown and after the whole green room incident, I couldn't exactly blame him.
"Only since Sunday." I replied, trying my best to look everywhere but his lips. The deep growl he released let me know he was not content with my response.
"Why'd they kick you out this time? Did you use the wrong fork at dinner?" Slate said harshly, clearly taking a shot at my parents for being the exact stereotype that usually accompanied the word 'rich'. I couldn't help but smile. I noticed Slate's gaze linger down to my upturned lips and I realized my self-control was wearing very thin, if I didn't get to taste his lips soon, I might just die of anticipation. Okay, maybe I was over exaggerating. It's probably a symptom of withdrawal.
I felt my posture becoming impossibly straighter the longer he stared at my lips. Maybe it was the fact that his shoulders were still clearly tense from the anger he felt towards my parents for mistreating me or the fact that protectiveness was rolling off him in waves but suddenly West's name meant less than nothing to me and all I could think about was how goddamn far Slate's lips were from mine.
"Fück, you're killing me Willow." Slate said his voice husky, as he placed his palm possessively on the back of my head. I got on my tippy toes, knowing that I had to be the one to initiate the kiss since just two days ago I had stupidly said we weren't going to kiss anymore. Clearly I had only been fooling myself if I actually thought that was going to happen.
"What the...?" Slate trailed off as he began patting the back of my head. I winced as his hand touched the part of my head that had roughly smashed into a brick wall just thirty minutes ago and like usual Slate noticed my not-so-discrete reaction and instantly I saw his blue eyes darken a couple shades.
"I'm going to kill that motherfùcker." Slate said, his usually velvety voice coming out harsh and chilling. The murderous look on his face was enough to tell me that I had to do something before Slate hunted down West and a full fledged fight broke out. He started to walk away from me and to the random passerby he may have looked composed, but that was just typical Slate. I'm sure he would still manage to look relaxed and at ease even if he was trying to escape a swarm of angry bees.
I took a couple steps forward and grabbed his hand before he could go any farther. "I fell and hit my head by accident, it's also not a big deal." I managed to say, but my lack of preparedness sure as hell didn't help sell the lie.
"Willow," Slate gritted out between clenched "Let. Go."
"No." I replied sassily, and finally he turned his whole body back towards me. His eyes were narrowed at me and his jaw was clenched but quite honestly, Slate couldn't scare me even if he wanted to. Not since I saw him and Christian freaking out like little babies when I introduced them to Rolex for the first time...
"What'd you say?" He asked in that same clipped tone as he took a threatening step closer to me.
"I said no. Do you need me to spell it out for you? N-O." I said, taking a step towards him too. He's not the only one who can be threatening.
"Are you trying to intimidate me?" Slate asked, suddenly struggling to suppress an amused smile. I frowned up at him. So much for me being threatening...
"You're cute when you try and look menacing." Slate teased as a smirk made it's way to his addictive lips. I felt my cheeks heat up at his words.
"I'm always cute." I said jokingly in reply, but what surprised me most was when Slate grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to him.
"True." He replied in that smooth and smokey voice that always managed to make me feel tipsy without so much as a sip of alcohol. The cool and relaxing 'I have no cares in the world' smirk was ever-present on his lips as his face approached mine and before I knew it his lips were possessively claiming mine.
His lips were soft and I found myself becoming light headed as he grabbed my face between his large hands to give him more control over the kiss. I hadn't realized how much I missed the taste of him until his tongue was battling with mine and I felt like I was going to collapse to the ground any second. The familiar and addictive taste of cinnamon and smoke was so consuming that all my other senses dulled.
Then touch took over, his hard body pressed up against mine was making my hormones go wild and I knew for a fact that if we weren't in a public area this make out session would've ended drastically different.
But unfortunately nothing ever goes as planned so when Rage's grating voice sounded from behind me and broke me out of my haze of euphoria I wasn't the least bit surprised. Disappointed yes, but not surprised.
"Well if it isn't the beauty and the bîtch." I felt Slate's hand that was cupping my jaw tighten and he pressed one last chased kiss on my lips before pulling away. I watched his eyes narrow and his jaw clench as his gaze landed on something over my head. Something that I could only assume goes by the name of Rage. Slate wrapped his arm loosely around the back of my neck and pulled me into his chest protectively.
As much as I love having my face pressed up against his rock solid chest, I definitely didn't want to seem like the scared damsel in distress.
I placed my palm against Slate's chest and pushed him away lightly so I could turn around and face Rage. Slate grumbled a bit but loosened his grip on me none the less. As soon as I turned around Slate's arms were back around me, pulling me so that my back was against his chest.
For the sake of my pride I would never admit it, but I was grateful to be in his arms. As much as I wanted to appear to be a tough bïtch, the sight of Rage and his little gang scared me, and Slate never failed to make me feel safe.
"What do you want?" Slate asked casually with a blank expression on his face as if he was already bored with the conversation that had barely even started. I knew better though, against my back I could feel Slate's chest rising and falling heavily and I knew he was trying to contain his anger.
"Did you forget about my little warning, sugar?" Rage asked, completely ignoring Slate's question as he took a step closer to me. The little pet name he had given me seemed harmless but the tone he used was anything but and judging by the way his grip on my waist tightened significantly, Slate seemed to notice it too.
I opened my mouth to reply, soon realizing I had no answer. Had I forgotten his warning? How could I? He'd basically told me I'd gotten off easy and if he ever saw me again I wouldn't be so lucky.
I felt my heart begin to sink at the sudden realization of how not okay this whole situation was. Slate's arms no longer felt nearly as safe as they did five minutes ago.
So, had I forgotten the warning? More like buried it.
"Last time I checked, you don't own the tracks. I'm pretty sure you'd actually have to win a couple races to have some credit around here." Slate cut in before I had the chance to answer. I was grateful because my mouth seemed to be temporarily incapable of forming words.
I watched Rage carefully and it was fair to say that much like Slate, he had one hell of a poker face. Despite the fact that Slate was purposely poking the lion to get a reaction, Rage's expression remained pretty stoic except for the way his jaw clenched and his gaze fell to the ground for barely a second as he got his anger under control.
I would've been lying if I said I wasn't impressed when Rage looked back up a second later with an easy going smirk on his face. Different from Slate's familiar one, Rage's expression looked more than a bit psychotic, but it was a smirk none the less.
"It's all good sugar, forget the warning, it looks like you might actually come in handy." Rage said, his smirk growing with every word. His implication put fear in my stomach, I couldn't help but feel like there was some underlying message behind his words...I couldn't help but feel like a bomb was about to drop.
"I didn't know you liked to share your women, Carver?" Rage said amusement dripping from his tone as he moved his gaze from me to Slate. I felt my stomach sink immediately; this sure as hell wasn't how I wanted Slate to find out but I was frozen in place and I was regretting something that hadn't even happened yet.
Slate stayed silent as he waited for Rage to continue. Painfully silent. And I had a feeling his mind was the complete opposite. I finally understand what people meant when they said they could see the gears turning in someones head. I watched Slate's expression stiffen, almost as if he was no longer in the real world with us, he had escaped into his mind and knowing him he was trying to figure out what Rage was going to say next. If there was one thing I had learned about Slate, it was that he always needs to be one step ahead of everyone else. It makes him untouchable, powerful, and maybe I'm a bit biased but his effect on people definitely makes him desirable.
"Let's hope the Mercedes is the only thing of Ryder's that your girl is going to be riding today, huh?" Rage's words were a bomb and all I could do was wait for it to explode.
There was a general understanding that a driver would only bring along a passenger if they seriously trusted them not to be a distraction, but Slate was looking at me like he'd just found out I'd been fücking West behind his back for months.
I wanted to roll my eyes but I knew that Slate didn't know the truth about West, he thought he was my ex and somewhere in his mind I knew he felt like this was West's way of claiming me.
I felt Slate's arms drop away from my waist almost immediately and I felt myself beginning to panic. I felt like I was Captain America and I'd just lost my shield.
"What's he talking about?" Slate questioned, turning on me. His voice wasn't any louder than usual, but it felt like he had yelled it. His ability to keep his expression neutral no matter how angry he got impressed me time and time again, but it made me uneasy too. The way his face became empty almost scared me more.
"It's just a favour," I sputtered out, unsure of how else to explain the situation without escalating it. I couldn't just flat out tell him I was being blackmailed and threatened, West's boss made sure of that.
Before I even had the chance to put together a full sentence, I felt a heavy arm make itself comfortable around my shoulders. I didn't have to turn my head to know it was West—watching Slate's blue eyes darken as he ground his teeth together was all the confirmation I needed. I turned my head to see that Rage and his little posse were long gone, leaving just West, Slate and I.
"Oh please, don't stop on my account." West said, a sadistic smile forming on his face. I let my gaze wander to behind Slate and I saw Christian, Alec and AJ approaching in the distance—Jace was nowhere to be seen and I could only assume that he had wandered off with some old friends.
When I focused back on Slate I realized his eyes were no longer on me, instead they were narrowed at West who was still sporting that stupid smile. I watched as Slate clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly, it was an unspoken threat and I didn't doubt for one second that Slate would act on it if it came down to it.
"Slate," I finally said, the word coming out more like a whimper than anything else. I wanted to break West's fūcking arm for making Slate look at me the way he was.
Slate gave no sign that he heard me speak as he kept his gaze locked on West.
"You better get used to being second Carver, I'm coming for your title next." That was all it took for Slate's control to snap and before I knew what was happening he was lunging for West. Slate got in one good punch to West's jaw before he was being pulled back by Christian, Alec and AJ. To my surprise, Slate didn't struggle against the guys' hold.
I turned to West and watched as he used his thumb to wipe off a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth, before breaking out into hysterical laughter. It had never been more clear just how fücked up he was and the action only confirmed my theory that he was a category one masochist.
When West wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side in front of all the guys, I wanted to cry. I watched as understanding dawned on each of them, and their shocked expressions broke my heart.
"Let's go guys, wouldn't want to disturb the happy couple." Slate finally said, his words filled with spite as he turned and started walking away without even giving me a second glance. Christian, AJ and Alec gave me slight nods, before following after Slate.
I felt alone again, but this time I couldn't seem to find any comfort in it.
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The next ten minutes went by in a flash. West kept me close at all times and continuously whispered harsh orders in my ear as we made our way to his gorgeous Mercedes that was already parked at the starting line.
I stayed quiet for the most part, to say I felt drained was an understatement and I had never regretted going anywhere in my entire life more than I regretted coming to the tracks today. The worst part was that Slate had warned me, but how was I supposed to know that Rage wasn't going to be the only threat?
I kept my eyes glued to the ground as I followed West's instructions and got into the passenger seat of his luxurious car. Maybe I was being a coward for keeping my head down but I was too scared that I might see Slate and impulsively do something I'm sure I would regret later.
"Strap up, baby girl." West sent me a wide grin, as he revved the engine of his car. I did as he said and looked out of the window at the car beside us. It was a nice BMW but it was nothing in comparison to West's Mercedes. Despite how awful the entire situation was, the one thing I was grateful for was that we weren't racing against Slate.
The race was over before it even began. As soon as the flag was waved West took off leaving the BMW in the dust. West beat him by a mile, and I hated to admit it to myself but I had loved the rush of adrenaline I'd gotten as we sped down the abandoned dirt road.
As soon as we passed the finish line West slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching stop, drifting sideways slightly. I watched through the window as the crowd that had been waiting at the finish line surrounded the car, all screaming and cheering for West's win.
I hadn't even realized West had gotten out of the car until my door swung open and he grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the passenger seat. The screaming and cheering continued but I would've had to been stupid not to see the curious looks everyone was giving West and I.
I ignored the attention, scanning the crowd until my gaze connected with Slate's stormy one. He was watching me intently and like always I found myself becoming transfixed by him, until all the screaming and cheering became background noise.
Then a hand was cupping my cheek and West's lips were claiming mine.
A/N
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