Page 50 of I'm Sorry

“Which means we still have a chance if you guys move quickly.” Spencer gets a gleam in his eye. A part of me wants to leap up and pledge my allegiance to this movement, but I also know it’s not my place to be a part of this meeting, let alone say shit while I’m here and risk pissing them off. My urgency aside, I’ll know soon enough if Knox is in that group of girls. I’m observing, learning. I trust that they know what they’re doing.

“Then less fuckin’ about and more gearing up.” Kydd jumps up and, without another word, makes his way out of the office. Koen and Bridger stand.

“Wait, you’re moving on this? Finally?” Spencer asks, casually surprised.

“Charger is waiting on all of you in the armory. I’ll be there momentarily.” Ilya nods to the brothers, ignoring Spencer.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be safe, you guys,” I say, not wanting them to get hurt. I like them. They’re good dudes, and I know it would crush Dyana if anything happened to them. Though I imagine she’s used to it by now.

“Will do.”

“You’ve got a wild look in your eye, Johnson. What is it?” Ilya comments when we’re left alone. I can’t stop my gaze from flicking to the photos, my inner voice begging me to ask if Knox is in that group of girls. But I don’t because tonight is the night of my first initiation task and I can’t get distracted. If she’s there, I have to believe they’ll find her.

“Just ready for my task, is all.” Ilya studies me with silent regard. I can’t quite ever get a read on him, so it’s impossible to know what he’s thinking. Hell, I don’t even know why he has me here in the first place and honestly, Ilya isn’t one I ever want to tangle with. He nods.

“I trust you’ll keep your mouth shut about what you just saw?” It’s more of a demand that feels like a test. Is that why I’m here? Is he checking to see if I’m a snitch or have connections he doesn’t know about? Maybe they don’t trust me as much as I thought they did.

“Like I said, I’m just here for my orders.” His silence makes me want to curl in on myself, afraid I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Let’s get to it then.” Spencer stands and pushes in his chair, leaving his folder of pictures on the tabletop instead of taking them with him like the brothers did. I have half a thought to snatch the folder and flip through the pictures, my heart racing. But I don’t. These men don’t need to see how desperate I am.

Ilya produces another folder, this one black. He slides it across the table in my direction without a word escaping his lips. Keeping my eyes on him, I flatten my palm on the folder and slide it to the edge of the table, where I pick it up as I stand. I’m not sure what to do with his silence, and it has my hackles rising. I don’t like the idea of being set into a trap, if that’s what this was tonight. But as Ilya said, there is a lot here for him to protect, and he will do whatever he can. He’s only known me for a short while and is covering his bases.

I’ll show him I’m loyal.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

TRACE

I’ve never beenone for criminal activity, at least not partaking in it, but when I’m flying down the back country roads in the dead of the night in a carbon fiber Bugatti… I think I may like my initiation tasks. Spencer is trying his best to keep up with me but it isn’t working well. His 240 has power, but this is a fucking Bugatti. He doesn’t stand a chance. However, we are sticking together and although I have the car in our possession, I still have to deliver it in one piece to Ilya in order for the task to be complete. Wrecking it or getting caught by the cops will not allow for that. So as much as I want to take it for a spin down the mountain, I can’t.

Becoming a Hellion has become important to me. Maybe I’m not letting go of my past well, but impressing Ilya has also become a top priority. I feel like I owe him that much after the respect he’s shown me while drifting.

When we reach the last straight before the den, where I’ll be dropping off the car, the light turns red and Spencer pulls up beside me, punching the gas in neutral and letting the car bounce off the rev-limiter in an obnoxious show.

We roll our windows down and the sounds of The Weeknd tumble out of his car over the rumbling of our cars. “More than you can afford, buddy. Bugatti,” I tell him, making my version of a quote from the best movie ever.

He throws his head back and laughs at my quote as we wait for the light. When he looks at me again, I no doubt have a shit-eating grin on my face from the pure adrenaline rushing through me. Breaking into that guy’s garage and stealing his supercar was no easy feat. Everything I needed to know about the place was in the folder that Ilya gave me and I let my distractions go for the night. It didn’t take us long to scope out the place and jump on the opportunity the asshole provided for us. It was almost too easy, so easy Spencer didn’t want to do it, not yet, but it was my call. I guess these things typically take some time to complete, but I saw my opportunity, and I took it. It worked out, so I’m not going to dwell on things.

I can’t wait to see the look on Ilya’s face when I hand him the keys after only a day of having orders.

“You’re a trip, kid,” Spencer says, then rolls his window up halfway. I laugh because a look of determination swirls in his features as he faces forward and tightens his grip on his steering wheel. He wants to race. Okay then. V12 against his mid nineties Nissan, but whatever. I put the car in first and rev the engine as if I’m going to haul ass as soon as the light changes.

But when it does, I give him a head start. It’ll piss him off, sure, but pulling past him like he is standing still will be worth it. He gets a good start, dumping the clutch. I count to ten, then take off when the light has cycled back to red.

“That was a nice take off,” I start when we pull up to the garage doors and roll our windows down again. The Hellions wasted no time in fixing what Chaos fucked up. We haven’t recovered the McLaren, yet. I’m hoping Ilya makes that one of my tasks after seeing how well I’ve performed tonight.

We’ll be hiding both cars in the garage for a few days while they dismantle any security on the Bugatti and change all the numbers. Spencer’s car needs to lie low for a bit, so he won’t have it for a while in case anyone spotted it.

“You’re an asshole,” he grumbles, and I smile. We pull the cars into the bays and the doors shut behind us. Ilya is waiting, his expression unreadable as always, but he’s shaking his head and if I look hard enough, I’ll find a tiny smirk in his eyes. Pride washes over me and I hand him the keys, preening. I’ve made him proud.

“An asshole who brought me the car,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. He’s your star pupil, we all get it,” Spencer complains and stomps off toward the steps that will take him in the building. “Get your ass ready to go, fucker. I need a ride home now since you decided to be an overachiever and take the car tonight.

“While I’m proud that you completed your task in what is likely a record amount of time, I can’t help but wonder if this was reckless.” I deflate a fraction as my father’s words rush through my mind, reminding me how I’ll never be good enough. “Just remember, not everything is a race.”

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