Page 4

Do it, baby. Fucking stab me in the heart while you’re at it.
Scarletalwayshas something to say to me. She rarely leaves me alone. I guess it’s kind of her job. And if it’s not her, it’s Willa all up in my business.
Scarlet’s our PR assistant’s assistant. If that makes sense. It doesn’t to me, but what the fuck do I know? I just launch myself fifty feet in the air on a bike while doing a handstand on the seat. Nobody listens to me. For good reason. So Scarlet, she’s got multiple titles in our house where she lives, and by the way, she’s Shade’s girlfriend. He’s next to her for what I assume was support through the meeting. Only the sell-out’s not saying a goddamn word. He hides behind his stupid shades. What I can’t understand is why the fuck is he just sitting there while Rod and Scarlet scold me like a goddamn child who’d skipped school?
That’s the thing about Shade. While he knows this is bullshit and doesn’t agree with it, he’s too attached to the sport to stand up for himself. He’s like a fucking puppet allowing them to pull the strings to sway him any direction the stiff collars lead him. In other words, he doesn’t ruffle feathers. He’s never been one for confrontation. He’ll talk his way out of throwing punches before he lands one.
Back to the fork in my face. Little does Scarlet know I plan on skippingeveryround. Fuck that tour. I don’t like being told what to do or where I need to be. But this event, and Rod Milan, that fucking bastard doesn’t get to tell me shit. I’m not going to tell that to Scarlet though. She’ll want to know why and that means Shade will want to know too. I prefer Scarlet being pissed off rather than feeling like I owe anyone an explanation.
Besides, seeing her pissed turns me on. Not that I’d sleep with her. Actually, I can’t go as far to say Iwouldn’t. If she offered, I’d be all over that, brother’s girlfriend or not. Scarlet’s fucking hot. Okay, maybe that is too far, even for me. But in reality, if I did fuck Scarlet, I’d really be doing Shade a favor because obviously if she’s willing to take it up the ass, she’s a whore and he deserves someone better.
Don’t look at me like that. I already told you I was crazy. Now do you believe me? Actually, why the fuck am I trying to convince you? Think what you want.
Rod leans in, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back revealing his wrinkled forehead. His eyes are dark, black and lifeless like his face. Dirty as a dollar, there’s nothing extraordinary about him. Not a goddamn thing. Unless you count the clout he has in the industry followed by a string of divorces, alimony, and bastard children I’m sure he has running around the streets of Pasadena.
I wonder briefly, if I take the knife on the table and slit his throat, if he’d bleed the lies he’s spewed to me over the years? Have they tainted his blood black?
“Tiller.” Rod dips his head forward, attempting to catch my eyes. I don’t look at him. I rarely make eye contact with anyone, let alonehim. “We’ve put a lot of promoting into this tour and your name’s plastered all over it. How do you think it makes us and you look when you don’t show up?”
I don’t answer.
I smirk. Remember what I said about brand? Exactly. They hate me, scold me, but really, they love whatIdo for them. Fans come to see what crazy shit I’m going to do. I once came out to rider introductions wearing nothing. I used my helmet to cover my junk, but still, fans loved it, promoters and sponsors, they didn’t know what the fuck to do.
Do you notice the way Rod cracks his neck at my smirk? What about the way his nostrils are flaring or the way rising blood pressure paints his cheeks red?
“You’re acting like a spoiled kid. There are hundreds of riders out there who would give anything to be in your position riding on the After Dark tour. You need to remember how you got to where you are in this sport.”
I lean in. This time I make eye contact, gracing him with the stare most fear. The one that screams I’ve lost my mind a long time ago. Truth is, I did. “I ride when I want to. You’re not treating me like a piece of property. I’ve dealt with that my entire life from promoters and sponsors, and I’m done with it. I’m not doing it anymore. If I want to show up at round two, I will. If I don’t, I won’t.”
I lean back, distancing myself, wondering what the fuck I’m doing here and desperately wishing I had something that would fuck me up.
Rod’s jaw flexes. “Your contract says you’ll show up or we can sue you.”
My chest expands with a heavy breath. “I plead insanity. I don’t remember signing it.”
Truth? I don’t remember. Which is how I got into this mess.
Look at the way Scarlet’s holding up that fork again. The way her fingertips whiten as she grips it in an offensive manner. “I will stab your eye out. I swear.”
It’s laughable—maybe not to you—but I get threatened with stabbing at least once a week, maybe even once a day. “I wouldlovethat.” I smile at Scarlet from across the table. Shade’s got his arm around her, claiming his girl like he usually does in public. “I like pain and blood.”
And the painkillers that usually come right after.
“I wouldn’t test him, babe. He gets off on the pain.”
Undeterred by Shade’s advice, Scarlet waves her fork in my face and then digs around on her plate of chow mein for the small pieces of carrots she eats before anything else. “You’re seriously disturbed.”
“You have no idea.” Leaning back in my chair, I eye the waitress serving the table next to us. She’s got nice tits, but that’s about it. Her ass looks like a pancake.
Abruptly, Rod stands. He stares down at me, the contempt he holds for me rolling off his rigid posture in waves. “I’m expecting you in Los Angles next week.”
I don’t say anything but I do wink, the silence in the room suffocating, but so was the idea that I’d actually listen to him. I’d like to think Rod knows what that wink means.
Scarlet sighs, leaning her head into her balled up in fists at her temple. “Are you really going to skip round two?”
I nod, smiling.
Shade chuckles. “Look at it this way. He’ll keep the fans guessing as to who will actually get to see him ride. Might sell more tickets that way.” And then his attention moves to the street where he’s been looking out the window for most of the hour. “Put the poor bastard out of his misery.”