Page 49 of Crimson Tears

Another tear falls down my cheek, this one burning more than all of the others. As a breath escapes my lungs, my foot presses on the gas with no plans of letting up.

My supercharged GT350R custom-built engine roars to life under us, blurring the outside world. I know this mountain by heart though. So much so that I don’t need to see the road in front of me to know when I need to glide into the turn or give her more gas on a straightaway.

It’s moments like this I am beyond thankful for my sequential transmission, allowing me to shift through the gears quicker and take advantage of every second. With each turn, I can practically feel Cillian shaking in fear next to me. But he stays quiet. He said he was along for the ride. He is with me. And he’s proving to me just how true that is with every daring turn I take.

I don’t know when it is exactly that my mind starts to feel less hazy and my body begins to relax, but by the time we’re headingback down, drifting into each corner as much as possible, part of me feels better.

I watch my RPMs closely, careful to take each turn at just the right moment to ensure we stay on the road and not fly off of it. The risk is energizing though. I can practically feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins along with the speed of my engine.

It’s like my car and I become one while on this road. I know her like I know myself, and she knows just what I need. I might not be a runner, but in another life, I picture myself as a racer.

My thoughts no longer feel muddled, speed mixed with the night air help me sort through each little bit of information I received tonight. Boris didn’t just let Cillian go down on me back at the ballet. He goaded him into it. Then, he watched as if I were putting on a show just for him.

Which I was, but also the way Cillian made me fall apart was such a stark contrast from what I am used to. When I’m with Boris, he loves to push me to the edge before pulling back a few times. When he finally gives in, he continues to use me until I nearly scream from oversensitivity. And I love it. Every damn second.

There’s something about the scruff of his short salt-and-pepper beard rubbing over my sensitive clit just after an orgasm that makes me ready for another. And he delivers every damn time.

But with Cillian, it was different. He was patient, learning all of the things I liked before using them together all at once, making me soar into oblivion so quickly that I wasn’t sure I would ever come down.

The vibration from the engine beneath me reminds me of the way Cillian’s tongue piercing made me quiver with pleasure, especially when he pushed it so far inside of me I could havesworn he found new nerve endings.Feck. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

Evie said I have to take what I want. It doesn’t feel possible that I could take these two men and make them mine, but I have an inkling that the three of us are stuck together. Boris might have walked out on me tonight, but I am not giving up on us.

On the final curve, I hit the gas and turn the wheel sharply before yanking it back. My car drifts harder than I’m used to, bringing us to the very edge of a forty-foot drop. So much so that I feel part of my back tires lose traction as they hover over the abyss.

My heart rate kicks up, but it’s all worth it when Cillian screams like a little girl just before we head down the straightaway at higher speeds than I normally risk. That in itself is enough to change my mood in an instant. I laugh so hard that all of the muscles that ached from screaming and crying burn all over again.

He glares at me, but I just smile back at him smugly.

“Where did you learn to drive like this?” he asks as we get back on the main road that will take us home.

“Damien taught me for a while on the island. He and I grew closer working with the cars for a few months. I taught him to shoot moving targets, and he taught me to drive a car in ways that made me a difficult target.”

I think back to life at the island university where I met the people I now call family. It was kind of like a college master's program for crime, but it brought us all together. There were many times I found myself at the track to just clear my head, driving in endless circles until Damien taught me a few tricks.

When we arrived in Russia, I knew I wanted to build my own car. Boris pointed me to a few guys he knew well, and I worked with them at a racetrack in town. Some were professional racers, others specialized in car modifications. Thus, Flair was born.

Every modification they could equip, I have. The sequential transmission was from Rodney, and Caleb hooked me up with a stage 3 clutch. He also upgraded the rotors and calipers, so it can handle all the horses my baby is willing to give it while giving me the braking power to stop. Felix added the supercharger, and Wren got me the racing seats that hug my body like a glove.

I still think I shouldn’t have allowed the guys who built her to name her, but I guess it works. She’s a beast, but she’s also fast.

“You’ve found some good people,” Cillian says.

“I have. I got pretty lucky.”

He grins at me, a little bit of that crazy shining through, but not enough that I feel like I don’t know him anymore.

“I would bet the universe knew it had knocked you down too many times to do it again.”

I chuckle. “And why would the universe care what I do?”

“Because it can’t create someone whose will is stronger than its own. And that’s what would have happened if it kept challenging you.”

Little does he know, I tried to take the coward's way out a few times. Evie just saved me from it the first time, and Boris the second.

“I tried to strangle Evie in her sleep on the island,” I confess.

He looks over at me, still gripping the handle tightly while shock is written all over his face. “You didwhatto a professionally trained assassin?”

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