Page 126 of X My Heart

We all turn around. She stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support.

“Walk it off?” I ask.

She nods. “Go.”

The hurt in her eyes tears me in two, and I leave like the coward I am. I’m so fucking angry, so I head to the only place I feel safe: the track.

“Fuck,” I mutter to no one in particular, and I sit. I messed up. I shouldn’t have pushed Jay, and certainly not Marian, who has nothing to do with my own personal shit.

I lie back against one of the hills. It is a warm, soft evening. Tears pool in my eyes as I stare up at the sky, but I can’t cry. I need to stay angry. I need to fight. I need to be strong for her.

I spend the whole night on the track thinking about my past, my father, and the mistakes I made. I think about the drugs I took, the anger that consumed me, and I close my eyes.

The sun comes up, painting the sky like a Bob Ross artwork, and I know what I should have done a long time ago.

I get on my bike and drive away. I’m doing ninety on the freeway and I skid to a halt at Neil’s beachside condo. Stalking up the steps to his house, I knock on the wooden door.

“Neil, open up,” I yell, trying to peer inside. A freaking party is going on.

I jerk the door open. The noises from the music and people talking give me an instant headache. Strutting through the house, I spot girls in bikinis. There are more fake breasts here than there should ever be in one room. Ryan and Lydia are talking in a corner. She’s flapping her arms around, angry as hell. Ryan dips his chin at me in greeting; I do the same in return. Then I see Neil talking to a couple of guys who look just like him, each with a trophy wife on their arm.

“Neil,” I yell, trying to be heard over the music.

He stops talking. His eyes bulge like he’s scared of me being here in his house. Spinning on his heels, he heads down the hall.

“Neil,” I roar again, sprinting after him. “What the hell, man?”

He tries to open a door but it’s locked. Turning around, he holds his arms in front of his chest to keep me at a distance, but I push them away.

“What are you doing here, Hunter?” He sounds off, not like his normal fucker self.

“I know I owe you fifty-five grand. I’ll find a job, because I won’t fucking race for you after this season is over.”

He shakes his head. “It’s done, Hunter.”

“What do you mean ‘it’s done’?” I frown.

His hands are shaking. What the hell did I miss?

“It has been paid,” he states.

“You’re not making any sense, Neil.”

“It’s taken care of, okay?” he says, holding up his hands. “Please go now.”

“Who paid it?” I grit out, getting in his face.

He raises his hands like I’m about to go all Rocky on him. “He made me promise not to tell anyone. Especially you.”

“Neil, who?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“A couple guys on motorcycles came by the house,” he says, his voice shaking. “One big angry guy paid your debt in cash, and threatened to break every bone in my body if I tried to sign you again.”

“What were they wearing?” I mumble.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Leather vests.”

“What was the name on the vests?” The dude is off his rocker. His eyes are wide. Sweat glistens on his forehead. It’s probably from all the cocaine he snorts.

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