Page 3 of Dash

I don’t correct him on Valerie being my ex. I just nod once again before speaking. “Thank you, sir.”

“So. Do we have a deal?” he asks, already reaching out his right hand to shake.

A deal? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I mean, I’m twenty-two with a rap sheet longer than my left arm and a very powerful and rich man is standing in front of me offering me the chance at my dream job. “What’s the catch?” I ask crossing my arms over my chest, refusing to shake just yet.

“Don’t push your luck, boy,” the officer growls.

Mr. Knight lifts his hand to silence the officer as he smirks. “I like a man who wants to know all of his options before he takes a deal,” he says to the officer, but his dark brown eyes stay trained on mine. “The catch is that whenever you are on the streets—whether it be in your car or on your bike—you abide by the law. I don’t want you arrested or to get even so much as a speeding ticket. No drugs and no alcohol. I don’t want you showing up for a race or practice runs hungover or exhausted or fucked-up. You are no use to me in a hospital or jail.”

“That’s it?”

He nods. “That’s it. Do we have a deal?” he asks once again.

The alcohol might be a problem. I like to party. But the drugs? Never done them. And don’t plan on it. This’ll be easy. I give him a big smile as I uncross my arms and reach my right hand out. “Deal.”

He smiles as he firmly shakes my hand. He then reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a card. “I will send a car for you tomorrow afternoon. Be ready for it by two o’clock,” he says before turning around.

“Be ready for what?” I ask, placing it in my back pocket of my shorts.

He turns back around and gives me a smirk. “To sign your life away,” he says jokingly, but I have a feeling he’s being serious.

I look up at the officer once Mr. Knight is out of the room. “He owns you, boy,” is all he says before he goes back to his desk, opens up his drawer, and sets my wallet and cell on top of it next to my helmet. “Here you go. And your bike is sitting out front for you.”

I take my stuff and hightail it out of there. But before I get on my bike, I make a call to my best friend, Blake.

“Holy shit, man. I heard what happened. Valerie called me crying,” is how he answers his phone.

I roll my eyes. I bet she called him. Anytime she can play the victim, she does. “No big deal,” I respond. “Hey,” I say before he can say anything else. “I’m having a party tonight,” I say with a smile. I was just given the opportunity of a lifetime, and I’m not gonna fuck it up. But I haven’t signed anything yet. So tonight I’m gonna live it up one last time.

“Your place?” he asks.

“Hell, no. I’m not throwing a party at my house.” During the last party we had at my house, a fight broke out and the neighbors called the police. Guess I shouldn’t have beat the shit out of the guy on the front lawn for everyone to see. But, in my defense, the drunk bastard started it.

“Okay. Your parents’ house,” he suggests, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “They’re out of town. And I can call this girl I’ve been seeing. Jackie. She has this hot friend who I know you would love to hit.”

Bingo! “Great idea.” Even though nothing is written in stone with Mr. Knight, I want to celebrate. And I know just how to celebrate. Some alcohol and a woman underneath me who is anyone but Valerie.

CHAPTER THREE

TABATHA

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I repeat for the fifth time as I sit at a stoplight on Rodeo Drive.

“That’s what I was told,” Jackie, my best friend, says softly next to me.

“Who was it?” I ask curiously.

She shrugs before she looks down at her cell in her hands. “I don’t know. They didn’t say a name. I guess it was someone he was talking to when you guys got together.”

In all honesty, it doesn’t surprise me that the bastard was cheating on me. I mean, he is the type to have more than one woman. He likes power and that made him feel like he had some. Fuck, he was probably with her at times while we spoke on the phone. She was probably right there smiling while she sucked his dick or something.

“You did the right thing,” she says before she reaches over and pats my arm.

I look over at her with no expression, and she exhales. “I know you loved him, but…”

“Stop right there,” I say slamming on the gas as the light turns green. “I didn’t love him,” I say in denial, and she sighs heavily, knowing I’m lying. “But,” I add, “I don’t regret leaving that sorry bastard.”

“Good girl,” she says happily, and I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. That’s what Rodger always said to me. Always!

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