Until You (Fall Away Series) (15 page)

Walking away, I could almost hear K.C. make up her mind.

“What time are you heading out?” she called after me.

Coming to an abrupt stop like I hadn’t expected her to change her mind, I turned around. “Leaving about seven-thirty.”

“All right.” She nodded, her tone a little nicer. “Seven thirty. It’s 1128 Evans,” she clarified.

“A thank you would be nice,” I teased.

“Yeah, it would.” And she returned to her duties.

Once inside the theater, I handed my food to some pre-teens and headed out the back exit.

“What?”

K.C.’s shriek was probably picked up on Russian sonar, and Madoc and I just stood back to watch the show.

“K.C.!” Her boyfriend—or maybe ex-boyfriend now—squirmed his way out the redhead’s arms and rushed up to his girlfriend.

We’d made it to the Loop right on time. I even had Madoc go ahead of me to text and confirm that Liam was at the races tonight and with his side piece.

“Are you kidding me?” K.C. yelled.

“Please—” Liam started, but Madoc cut him off.

“It’s not what it looks like?” he finished for Liam, laughing.

“Shut up, goddamn it!” Liam barked at Madoc while my friend laughed even harder.

Liam reached for K.C., but she pulled away. “Don’t touch me. I trusted you!”

“Dude, hands off.” I stepped in.

Liam wouldn’t look at me but kept his hands to himself now. “Why are you here?” he stammered at K.C.

But K.C. ignored the question. “Who is she?” she looked at the redhead leaned up against Liam’s Camaro.

“Please,” the redhead, who didn’t seem fazed at all, pleaded sarcastically. “We’ve been seeing each other for two months. Not so bright, are you?”

K.C. was about to lose it, so I took her gently by the crook of her arm and led her backwards, out of the mess.

“Would you take me home, please?” Her breathing was ragged, and she looked embarrassed and heartbroken.

I’m a dick.

“Yeah,” I sighed, all of a sudden feeling really shitty. “I have to race first, but Madoc will let you sit in his car while you wait, okay? Give me ten minutes.”

I nodded to Madoc, who rolled his eyes, probably wondering what the hell I was up to.

After the race, I drove K.C. home, probably not feeling as badly as her but definitely not feeling good.

Nothing about what I was doing was right, but fuck me, it was the only plan I had to shatter Tate’s world.

“K.C., I’m really sorry.”

“Did you know about this?” She used her fingers to wipe away the tears and mascara streaks.

I almost felt like throwing up. “Absolutely not,” I lied. “If I did, I wouldn’t have told you. Sorry, it’s a guy code.” And that part was the truth. Unless the girlfriend of a friend is also your friend, then you don’t interfere.

“Ugh,” she grunted, more angry than sad now.

“Hey, look. Believe it or not, I am really sorry you’re hurting,” I offered, pulling up in front of her house. “Go eat chocolate or binge shop online. Whatever girls do to feel better. And I promise to kick his ass in a race next weekend. You can even come along to watch if you feel up to it.”

But my joke didn’t lighten the mood. “You think you’re so much better than him?”

And even though I knew she made a valid point, I did think I was better than Liam. I don’t know why. Maybe because I saw Liam as spineless. If I lied, it was for a good reason. Not just because I was too weak to let go of what I no longer wanted.

But I was, wasn’t I? I couldn’t let Tate go.

“Yes,” I finally answered. “I don’t cheat on girlfriends, because I don’t give the impression that I want a relationship. Look,” I started, taking off my seatbelt. “I may go through girls faster than gum, but it’s not because I feel that they’re worthless or disposable, okay? It’s all me. I know I’m not good for anything more, so why let people in?”

And for once, I wasn’t playing a part for K.C. I told her the truth.

I wasn’t trying to get into her pants, and I didn’t care about her or what she thought about me. For the first time in a long time, I was totally comfortable being honest with someone.

Her gaze was fixed out of the window. “I guess you’ll never know,” she almost whispered, as if to herself.

No, I do know,
I thought to myself. I know very well what happens when you let people in.

“You should try letting go,” I suggested, clearing my throat. “There’s no reason to cry over someone that wasn’t thinking about you when he was with someone else. You deserve better.”

She sat there for a moment and finally offered me a tight smile.

“You’re still a dick,” she conceded as she got out of the car, but I caught sight of a small grin on her face that told me she was just joking.

Over the next two days, I slowly weaseled my way into K.C.’s life, shooting her concerned texts and trying to appear sincere. I wasn’t sure if she was disclosing our communication to Tate, but it was only a matter of time before I made sure Tate found out anyway.

“Thank you for the ride.” K.C. unfastened the helmet and smiled down at me.

It was Monday night, and I’d just picked her up from work after she’d texted, asking for a ride.

When I got there, though, she started acting unnaturally affectionate. Rubbing her fingers through my hair, touching my arm. Familiarity we hadn’t gotten to yet.

I looked behind her, before she climbed on my motorcycle, and spied her ex with some of his friends inside the theater lobby, watching us.

And that’s when I knew what she was doing.

I smiled, pretty proud of her for using me, actually.

And interested.

Tate had been giving me the evil eye today, and if I could continue to get under her skin while helping K.C. make her boyfriend jealous—without actually having to go that far with her—then I was comfortable.

I took the helmet out of her hands and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

She let out a tiny sigh with her smile.

K.C. was a good girl, and the knots in my stomach settled.

Firing the engine on my bike, I put on my helmet and sped off, not sure where.

I never wanted to be home anymore.

Or maybe I always wanted to be home.

Tate was alone next door, and I couldn’t help where my thoughts traveled. We were both kind of on our own—her dad out of the country, and my mom leaving me by myself most of the time—and my damn dirty mind always entertained ideas of shit I couldn’t have with Tate. Every night we’d fall asleep less than fifty feet from each other, and the gnawing sensation in my head had me ready to scream.

All that wasted time.

After spending a couple of hours at the garage where I worked, hanging out with Madoc and doing some maintenance on my bike, I was finally satisfied that Tate was probably asleep. I wouldn’t have to look at her bedroom, warmed by the bright light, and wonder what she was doing in there.

Or what she was wearing.

Stopping at a red light, I checked my rearview mirror and did a double-take.

Is that…?

A Honda S2K was behind me.

A white 2005 Honda S2K.

Shit.

My heart climbed up my throat.

I knew these guys, and I clenched the handlebars, trying to steady my nerves.

Idiot Vin Diesel wannabes from Weston that didn’t know how to lose gracefully. I’d raced the owner of the car at the Loop last week and beat him. He’d made a big show about it being an unfair race, and from the looks of it, he hadn’t gotten over it.

They were the only car behind me, but they’d given me a wide berth.

The light turned to green, and as soon as I laid on the gas, the Honda did as well.

Dammit.
I shook my head, my fears proved true.
Not tonight.

Slipping my phone out of the front pocket of my hoodie, I dialed Madoc.

“Hey,” I said, glancing in my mirror again, “are you home yet?”

“No.”

Slowing down for the stop sign, I spoke quickly. “Turn around and head to my house. Got a tail of the Fast and Furious variety. May need some back up.”

“I’ll be there in five.” And he hung up.

Fumbling, I shoved the phone back into my pocket. As I laid off the clutch, I revved the gas and sped off around the corner. A cold rush of wind hit my face, and I strangled the handlebars to keep my body glued to the bike.

Shit.

My heart was damn-near pounding through my chest, but I didn’t take my eyes off the road, even to look behind me.

I wasn’t in a hurry to get there without Madoc backing me up, but I didn’t want to risk that they’d start some shit with me still driving my bike, either.

They were in a car. I was the vulnerable one.

Racing up my driveway, I twisted my head around in time to see the Honda speeding to a screeching halt at my front curb.

Ryland Banks, the short, buzzed-cut driver and owner of the car, got out right away.

Tate.

I darted my eyes to her house, fear gripping my insides, and I gritted my teeth with the urge to hit myself.

Why had I led them back here?

Tate was alone, and now, she was unsafe. Who knew what kind of weapons these guys carried?

Yanking off my helmet, I charged down the lawn, cutting them off before they got any closer.

Everything I wanted to keep safe was behind me, and that’s where it would stay.

I pressed into their space. “Not sure what you’re looking for, but it ain’t here,” I growled, bearing down on them.

“We want our money back,” Ryland ordered like he had a leg to stand on.

“Get over it,” I sneered. “You took the gamble, and you pay the price like everyone else.” They tried to push into my space, but I kept my feet planted.

“It wasn’t a fair race!” The other, taller and darker, one used his pointer finger in my face like a tattletale at recess.

I snorted.

There were two kinds of stupid. Stupid people that got drunk and humped trees, and stupid people that just humped trees. The first one was Madoc. These guys were the latter.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I laughed. “Your car never stood a chance. Bring the right tires next time. This isn’t street racing.”

“Fuck you!” Ryland barked. He slammed me in the chest, and I lost my breath as I stumbled backwards.

Coming back up on him, I stared him down. “Get off my property.”

Just then, I could make out the rumble of Madoc’s GTO, and I immediately relaxed my shoulders a bit when he came into view, speeding down my street.

I didn’t even think he turned off the car before he was out and running.

Thank God.

I wasn’t afraid of these guys, by any means, but I wasn’t stupid, either. Two against one, and all I had in my hand was my helmet for a weapon.

A vicious slam nearly knocked me off my feet, and an ache rocked my head.

Shit. I’d been hit.

No. Sucker punched, actually.

Cowardly motherfuckers.

They both rushed me, throwing fists in my face, and a million goddamn things were going at once.

Arms flying at me…crowding me…I’m about to fall…

My head was still ringing from the hit, and it took me too fucking long to get straight.