Page 17 of Be Still My Racing Heart
Simon waves away the comment. “It doesn’t matter who has it, only that you’re safe as a result. You get to live the life I always wanted for you.”
Ryder rests his elbows on the table and buries his face in the palms of his hands. “Do you know anything about the sabotage of Reggie Buchanon’s car? A Scorpion member was seen around the area.”
“My second in command, who is now further down on the food chain, still visits me. You remember Doug, right?”
“Dig Dug,” Ryder retorts. “Your enforcer.”
“That’s right. He came to me the other day, asking about you. He mentioned some guy offered him a hefty sum to have Reggie’s car fail the pre-race inspection and to wear the number on your car. He thought it was odd and that I might be behind it, which is why he questioned me about it. I’m not, but if you’re here asking similar questions, I guess Doug took the job,” Simon tells his son.
As I listen, I feel deep in my heart that Simon is being honest with Ryder. “Did Doug mention who hired him?” I ask. “Reggie is a driver for the company I work for. I’d like to know.”
Simon smirks at me. “Is that so?”
I frown, unsure of what he’s implying. “It is.”
Simon only asks me a straightforward question: “Who has the most to gain by Reggie not racing and framing my boy?” It’s a question I don’t have the answer to because, up until now, I thought it was him.
Ryder and Simon chat for a few more minutes while I sit idly by, content to listen. Eventually, their conversation comes to a close. When Ryder stands up and promises that he’ll start visiting regularly, that’s my cue that it’s time to leave.
Simon calls out, “Blake, may I please have a word with you in private?”
Ryder’s gaze is filled with apprehension, but I jut my chin toward the guard only a few feet away. “I’ll be fine.”
The worry doesn’t leave his eyes, but he does give Simon and me the moment his father requested. Once Ryder is on the other side of the door, I turn around and face Simon. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
“Do you love my son?” he asks bluntly.
“I’ve known him for a week, Simon.”
He gestures for me to sit. “Fair enough. Where do you see your relationship going?”
“Ryder is a diamond in the rough, covered under enoughstonethat you can easily mistake him for a rock,” I say. “But I see his true potential and value.”
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” Simon retorts.
“I like him a lot, Simon. I want to see where things between us will lead. We both have a great deal riding on our decision to be together, and we need to figure out if it’s worth the sacrifices.”
Simon nods. “Have you told him who you really are?”
I lean back as though I’ve been slapped. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
“You can pretend with me all you want, but like I mentioned earlier, I’ve been keeping tabs on your family for a long time. That includes you. I know your secret, and you’re messing with Ryder. That’s something I can’t abide by, even if you have a good reason. Come clean with him, or I will. I know my son, and he’ll understand if you tell him the truth. But if you don’t do it soon, Ryder won’t ever be able to fully trust you. Your relationship will be over before it ever begins.”
I appreciate his candor. “I’m planning on telling him soon.”
Simon holds his hands in the air to signal the guard he’s ready to leave. As he’s getting cuffed, he leaves me with a parting gift. “Even in prison, I was able to figure out your secret, Blake. As a father, I look out for my son’s best interests. Is there anyone in your life who would do the same for you?”
I nod. “My family.”
Before the guard takes him out of the room, Simon looks over his shoulder directly at me. “You asked who would hire Doug to frame my son. I suggest you look at the people who want Ryder out of the picture. If I know your secret, then maybe they do too.”
For the past two days, since I visited the prison with Ryder to see his dad, the private conversation with Simon has been playing in my head like a broken record. I know I need to trust Ryder with my secret if I want any chance at a future with him, but what if he doesn’t understand why I did it?
“You were pretty quiet throughout dinner with Wendall and Mabel,” Ryder says, breaking the silence as we walk from his aunt’s house to the cornhole club to meet his friends.
“Just a lot on my mind,” I tell him. “Mabel didn’t have a problem filling the silence, nor did Wendall.”
“True. They do like to talk.” He opens the door, and laughter fills the air. “You’re about to meet an amazing group of people. You might have even heard the names of one or two of them.”
