Page 173 of Heartless Legacy

She’s still tucking pointy objects away. How many secret compartments does she have? “You’ve got a holder inside your vest too?”

She walks over and slips my hand inside her jacket so I can feel the blade against her breastbone. It has a hole in the end of the knife, so all she has to do is hook a finger through it to get it free. Then she takes my other hand and presses it against her hip. I feel three thin daggers there. Ireallywanna fuck her right now.

“Focus, Finn.”

“I am focused.”

“On what we’re about to do.” She removes my hand from her tit. “Not on what you want us to do.”

“Who says we can’t do both? We fuck with The League, then we fuck to celebrate our success.”

She chuckles and walks away. I’m getting hard all over again. She didn’t tell me no. That means there’s a chance it can happen.

Chapter 98

Pax

Iwas trying to get a night to myself and let off some steam on the racetrack. Halfway to the garage, I realized I forgot my wallet. On my way back to Vale Tower, I spotted Eloise hanging out around one of the hidden doorways that leads to the access tunnels she shouldn’t even know exist. She was in a heated conversation with two guys. They kept their backs to me for most of it, but when they turned to leave, I recognized them from the night at the lodge.

Ignoring Eloise has always been the easiest way to get through my day, but I’m paying more attention to what she’s doing. A lot of her behavior can be explained away with challenges and Zeta Nu business, but there’s no way for her to spin a lie about where she was standing. My gut tells me she’s up to something, and I wasn’t about to leave her on campus to stir up trouble, so here I am forced to endure her company.

“You shouldn’t be texting and driving, Pax.” Eloise says, complaining like always.

“I’m not. I’m reading and driving.”

“You’re driving too fast and not paying attention to the road.” She says, irritation lacing her words.

She thinks this is fast? I should leave her in the passenger seat and show her what fast really is. I don’t usually bring girls with me to races. There are plenty hanging out at the track, but I never let them ride in my car. Tonight can’t be helped. I need Eloise where I can keep an eye on her.

I drop her at the pedestrian gate she’ll have to use to get inside the course. Cars enter through another entrance. I tell her, “Follow the crowd. You should see some people from our table. They usually stand on the left.”

I don’t know if they’re actually here tonight or not. She’s a big girl. I’m sure she can handle standing alone if she has to.

“And where are you going?”

“I have to use a different entrance.”

Bus wheels squeak behind me. Through my rear-view mirror I watch as it turns the corner into the dirt lot. “You should hurry before you get stuck behind the next wave of people.” I pull off before anyone can see me.

The driver’s entrance is a mile away. All racers have to pass through a security checkpoint and get their cars inspected inside and out before being admitted, to make sure no one’s got any unauthorized mods. Your name and status outside of the course don’t mean shit. Here, it all comes down to your car or bike, and how you handle it on the track and across the terrain.

Driving fast, skittering on the edge of losing control has been the one thing in my life that drowns out the noise. It silences the disappointing voice of my father in my head. Quiets my own voice that’s always screaming at me to be the best. It’s always been an escape, but now it comes with a hefty purse when I’m the fastest. I don’t need the money, but I love getting to push myself against other amazing drivers. I love pushing my car or bike to the limit, and the rush of speed, the risk of losing control, all while fighting for the win. I didn’t even qualify for the final race the last time I was here, but I had fun anyway.

Thirty minutes later, I’m through the checkpoint, standing outside of my car, watching the other drivers enter. The guy who won the last time is stretched out on the hood of his car like he’s taking a nap. I ignore the death glare I’m getting from the guy on my right. If he doesn’t like his girl eye fucking me, he should do something about it. Like, win. Because that’s the only reason she’s paying me any attention. She’s loyal to whoever crosses the finish line first. On the days I lose, or don’t race, she ignores me.

I put all of those thoughts away and concentrate on what I’m about to do. My race is called, and I climb behind the wheel of my car and head to the starting line.

My body buzzes with nervous energy. Ten of us have qualified for the last race. I’ve got some time to kill while they’re resetting the course, so I walk around to see if I recognize any of the other drivers. The two parked near me are the only ones I’ve raced against before. Of course, one is the winner from the last time. He’s a ringer. I know all about him being a semi-professional driver. I’m heading back to my car when familiar red and burgundy hair pops out of the driver’s seat of a Camaro.

I was an asshole the last time I saw her here, and I don’t have a good excuse for why. My ego got the best of me. She’d been ignoring me since the day she came back to town and thefirst time she initiated a civil conversation, it was to tell me my driving sucked. The thing is, compared to the other drivers on the track that night, she was right.

A small crowd forms around her, and I drift closer to hear what she’s saying. The owner of the Camaro smiles down at her. “Go on, precious. Tell me your advice.”

His voice and humoring smile says he’s not really interested in what she has to say. Pretending to do so is supposed to smooth the way for him to fuck her later. Thea smiles,fucking smilesat the skinny asshole, and launches into her theory for winning. She’s smart enough to know he’s not really going to take her advice. Isn’t she?

A few of the other drivers outright laugh at her. She shrugs, unbothered by their teasing, then heads off towards another group of drivers.

“Thea!”

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