Page 32 of Take My Place

Chapter Eleven

“You’re not still sulking, are you?” asks Romy, as he makes a few last-minute checks to his bike before we drive to the rendezvous for tonight’s race. “Come on, Ivy. I explained to you how my father feels about you racing. If it were up to me, I’d let you race.”

“‘Let’ me?” I haven't been in the best of moods and Romy’s poor choice of words make me feel even worse. As soon as we’d arrived home after school, I’d gone straight to my apartment, ignoring Romy’s suggestion we have dinner together. I needed time to get my head together, figure out why it is I’d let Declan lead me astray. I mean, I am the one who seduced him. I know that. But why did I take that step? What is it about Declan that made me cross the line?

I’d always thought of myself as monogamous. Sure, I’m happy to have fun and fool around when the opportunity arose, but once I was in a relationship, I’d always been faithful. But ever since my father has first brought me to King Town, it is like I’m a different person and I’m not sure I like who I am becoming.

I know I am being a bitch taking out my emotional angst on Romy and it isn’t fair, but who says life has to be fair? I am tired of feeling powerless. Racing is the one time I feel in control, and now even that is being taken away from me.

“You look amazing, by the way,” says Romy, coming over to kiss me. He tries to put his hand around my waist, but I pull away.

“I know.” I’d gone overboard to make sure I looked good for tonight. I might be mad at Romy but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to support him when we were out in public. We are a power couple and we have to present a united front–which includes looking my best in front of our friends and rivals.

I’m wearing skin tight black leather trousers with bright red Doc Martens. As well as my favourite leather jacket, the one Katy bought for my birthday last year. To complete the badass ensemble, I am wearing a studded dog collar, bright red lipstick and I’d followed a YouTube tutorial to create a powerful effect with red and black eye makeup.

My whole look screamsfuck me but don’t fuck with me.

“Okay, Ivy. I get it.” Romy inhales deeply, trying to stay on top of his temper. “You’re pissed off with me and I understand. I’d be annoyed if I were in your place. Would it make you feel any better if I promise you could compete in your own race once we’re married? I promise I won’t tell you what you can and can’t do once we’ve exchanged our vows. All you have to do is put your head down and survive the next few months, and you’ll be free as soon as that wedding ring is on your finger.”

“You’ve got a funny sense of what freedom means,” I tell him, but I can feel my attitude softening. It’s impossible to be cross with Romy for long. That’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s wormed his way into my heart and I care about him, even as I resent the politics which has thrown us together.

“Your happiness is the only thing that matters to me,” Romy says, putting an arm around my waist and pulling me to him. This time I let him. “And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me.”

“Pretty words, Romy Navarre,” I say, as Romy kisses me on one cheek, then the other, before finally kissing me on the lips.

“I mean every single one of them,” he tells me. “Promise. “Now do you want to go to the race or shall we head to my room instead? I don’t mind either way.”

“I bet you don’t,” I say. But the thought of sleeping with Romy after what happened this afternoon feels wrong, so that left me with only one choice. “Let’s go race. Everyone’s expecting us and we don’t want to let them down, do we? They’ll only start gossiping about why we didn’t show. Before you know it, it’ll be all over school that we’re on the rocks. You’ll have girls throwing themselves at you thinking they can steal you away, I’ll get even more annoyed and it’ll be one big disaster.”

“I love your imagination. I’m not sure things will get that bad.” Romy laughs. “But I get your point. We’re the power couple of King Town and it’s time we showed everyone that we really do rule. Your bike’s in the garage and the keys are hanging up on the wall. You can follow me down.”

“I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “If I’m going to ride pillion for the race, I might as well get some practice in.”

“You mean-?” Romy’s face lights up.

“Yep. I’ll ride behind you on the way there as well. It’s the best way for us to make a united entrance, don’t you think?”

“You bet!”

Romy passes me one of the helmets which hung off the handlebars before putting the other one on. Then he climbs onto his bike and I get up behind him. He turns the key in the ignition and as the engine fires up, revs it to create a deafening roar.

There’s something wonderfully primal about the feel of a motorbike between your legs. All that power, yet it is completely tamed and under the control of the rider–as long as they have the ability to stay on top of it. Romy might not be the best racer out there, but he certainly knows how to handle his bike. He kicks off the stand and heads off down the drive, away from the estate and over to the agreed location for that evening’s race.

There is a festival feel to the race tonight. Someone set up a hog roast and the smell of cooking meat permeates the air, making my mouth water even though I’d already eaten. A band is playing on a temporary stage and there are a few booths set up selling clothes, snacks and random trinkets.

“Do you want a drink?” Romy offers.

“I’d love one, but I think it’d better wait until after the race,” I reply. “I don’t want to jeopardise your chances if I lose my balance.”

“I don’t think one drink will do that!” Romy laughs. “But I appreciate your caring. Come on. Let’s go and see who else is going to race tonight.”

He takes my hand, and we walk over to where Matt Knight, one of Archer’s cousins, is in charge of the sign-up sheet.

“I told you. It’s fifty pounds to compete or you don’t get to race.” Matt is in the middle of a heated conversation with someone I haven't seen before. The man looks to be a couple years older than me, with long, dark hair tied in a ponytail and striking grey eyes. Ordinarily I’d think he was attractive, but there is something about him that doesn’t sit right. Maybe it is the arrogant twist to his mouth or the way he is looming over Matt in an attempt to intimidate him. Whatever it is, I’m not impressed.

“What’s the point of paying? It’s not like any of you spoilt rich kids even need the money. Charging money to race is just a way to keep out those who really deserve a break. Although I don’t know why I expect any different from you lot. You don’t even know you’ve been born.”

The guy practically spits at Matt as he turns and storms off, roughly pushing past Romy as he leaves.

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