Page 5 of All That Glitters (Endurance #1)

Ashton

For ten minutes, I’d been sitting in the car outside the Troye’s house. Did they know? Hale, and his twin sister, Helen. Did they know I was there? Were they staring out from behind the curtains while I sat frozen in the car?

We lived two miles apart and during the ride over, I couldn’t have told anyone what I was feeling if my life depended on it.

“Mr. Glitterati?”

I glanced up to find Jerome watching me in the rearview mirror.

He’d been with our family for years. When my grandfather had become too old to drive safely, Jerome was hired.

He was in charge of my father’s classic sports car collection from races he’d been in, he also gave tours around the shop every so often when my mother convinced my father it would be a good idea to let people in.

And now, Jerome drove me because I was too terrified to get behind the wheel myself. “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to wait?”

“Please. I won’t be long.”

The next hurdle was to get out of the car. Jerome was kind enough not to stare at me as I worked through my shit. I had a death grip on the door handle and couldn’t seem to get my brain and my fingers to work together.

Jerome came to my rescue by stepping out from behind the wheel and opening my door. Maybe he’d like to go talk to Hale on my behalf, too. I’d be more than okay with that.

“Thank you,” I said.

One foot out.

Scoot. Turn.

Second foot out.

Push up and stand.

It was always this way when I was in a car now. I hated every second of it.

I took several breaths, deep and even, until I felt steady enough to put one foot in front of the other and cross the gravel expanse to the front stoop, schooling my features as I neared the door.

There were moments when I didn’t have to think about moving, I just did it.

But there were other times that moving, standing, walking took an act of God.

It was better than it had been even a month ago, but not as good as I needed it to be.

Ever since I called Hale, I’d been going over what I wanted to say, what I wanted to ask, and which side of his face I wanted to punch first. Now that I was standing there, knocking, waiting for someone to answer, nothing that I’d come up with earlier stayed with me.

When the door opened and Hale stood on the other side of the threshold, I immediately saw red.

Flaming, fire red.

Angry, open wound red.

Jagged, raw, painful red.

He didn’t say anything and neither did I, but he stood back for me to step inside. This time, I didn’t even pause to think about putting one foot in front of the other, I simply did it.

My body warred with my brain.

Fight or flight.

Face to face with the man who took the second half of last season and a second championship from me. The man who took my confidence, my steadiness, my control. The man who took my peace and certainty of my place in this world.

I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to pay for every painful breath, for every painful step, for every painful nightmare where the accident happens over and over and over again like highlight reels played on sports channels and social media.

I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him bleed. I wanted to punch him in his perfect face.

I wanted him to have scars just like me. I wanted… I… Wanted…

Breathe asshole…

I wanted to get out of there. It was a mistake. My father might think otherwise but seeing Hale? Now? I wasn’t ready. I was still too angry, too full of rage, too full of…something that even I knew through the cloud of red dust floating in my vision was dangerous.

I followed him into the nearest room off the foyer.

It was full of light, calming shades of sand and ocean blues.

As many times as I’d been in the Troye’s home away from home, this was my favorite room.

It didn’t have the views of the water like the back of the house.

It had nothing to distract from its comfortable yet minimal furnishings and soothing color scheme.

I was the complete opposite of calm, of soothed.

“Ashton.”

“Don’t.” My voice didn’t even sound the same to me. Hale gave nothing away. “You don’t get to say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like we’re still friends.”

“Ash, I…”

“No.” I shook my head. I needed the red to dissipate.

I needed to see straight and clear. I needed to look into his eyes.

I needed to see that what he said, what he told me about that day was the truth.

I needed to see and hear for myself that he wrecked me on purpose, that he took me out on purpose, that he… That he… “Fuck you.”

Those were the only two words that came out and I saw the edges of his mouth tighten, his body stiffen, his eyes narrow.

“Back at you.”

“You don’t have the right.”

“My house. My right. If you’d like to actually talk we can do that, but if all you want to do is hurl insults, you can leave.”

“I see you’ve grown a pair.”

“I always had the pair, just never had to use them with you.”

Wow. That didn’t sound the way he meant it and I had to bite back a smile.

I wasn’t ready to smile with Hale Troye.

I wasn’t ready to talk to him, be nice to him, do anything more than hurl insults .

I wanted to beat him until he saw the same stars I’d seen when I first opened my eyes after the crash, before they got me out of the car, before I passed out again.

And I hated that I felt that way. He’d been my best friend. Him, his twin Helen, and Brax. We’d grown up inseparable. There was a healthy respect between us when we were on the track and deep friendships when were off it.

At least, there had been until it all went up in flames. Fuck.

“How does it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

I shook my head. “Maybe I should ask why you did it. Then again, maybe I don’t have to. It didn’t quite work out as you planned, did it?”

The glint in Hale’s eyes hardened. “You think I did it on purpose?”

“There was no other reason to get into me the way you did, no reason you couldn’t back the fuck off.”

“Jesus, Ash… You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did. Guess you thought you just needed to get me out of the way. If you do that and win over and over again, that’s more money for you, more sponsors, more recognition, maybe even a championship. Too bad you never saw the checkered flag before anyone else.”

“Do you hear yourself? I’d never do that to you on purpose. I’d never do that to anyone on purpose. I know how to handle a car.”

“Apparently not.”

“You’re mad because I walked away and you had to be life flighted? Is that it?”

“It’s fucking everything.”

“You really don’t want to know about the events from my point of view, do you? You’re just going to assume I wrecked you intentionally? Is that what got you through rehab? You know what? You were right when you walked in. Fuck you.”

“You telling me you weren’t jealous that I got my championship before you?”

“I told you I was happy for you. I meant it.” He raked his hand through his hair and started to walk toward the windows but turned and walked back, standing toe to toe with me.

I didn’t know who was going to hit who first. “I’m just as good as you are, asshole.

My father just doesn’t own the company I race for.

Big fucking deal. I knew my time was coming.

You winning the championship our first full season out there like that was motivation for me.

I wanted a taste of that. I wanted that for myself, but not at the expense of you.

I’m not that guy. And you damn well know I’m not. ”

We stared at each other, both breathing heavily, anger fueling his words and fueling my stubborn silence. Everything he said was true. He was just as good as me and unlike me, he raced for a team that wasn’t owned by his father.

One of us needed to take a step back and within a few seconds of that thought, he did.

“I didn’t wreck you on purpose, Ash. It was an accident. I would do everything different if I could go back, but I can’t.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean you don’t get to take my anger away like that.”

“So, what? You want to be mad just to be mad? Are you five years old?”

“You don’t know what it was like, what I went through to get back here, to get back to where I could stand in front of you like this.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but that doesn’t make what happened any less than the truth. I went in too hard and I couldn’t back out quick enough. I’m sorry.”

He was sorry.

If the look on his face was an indication, he was. He looked miserable and unhappy. He was normally smiling, cocky as shit, and the easiest one of us to get along with. All of it was absent and that pissed me off, too. It didn’t fit with the image I’d had in my head all these months.

“I don’t know what to do with these feelings inside, with this… Your mistake took everything from me,” I ground out, my voice shaking as hard as every muscle in my body was doing.

“It didn’t. Everything would’ve meant death. You’re still here. You’re alive, breathing, walking.”

The rage monster inside me didn’t want to hear it. It all made sense. What he said all made sense and part of me knew it for the truth it was, but I couldn’t let it affect me. I couldn’t let it sink in.

I didn’t know who I’d be without the anger I’d fostered in the hospital and all through physical therapy.

I didn’t know who I’d be on the other side of it and it was all I had.

It was what got me out of bed every day.

It was what drove me to get back to where I was and be better.

It was what would get me back in the car.

If I didn’t have the anger holding me up, I was afraid I’d break.

“Have it your way, Ashton. Be mad. Be pissed. Whatever you’ve got to do. You know the truth and so does everyone else. It was a terrible accident. I wish it hadn’t happened. I can’t undo it. We can’t go back. We can only move on from it.”

The more sense he made, the more understanding he was, the more the red rage came back. I needed him to be the asshole that I’d made him out to be in my head since I woke up and remembered what had happened. I needed him to be the villain.

I didn’t need this Hale.

I fought for the numbness that often took over when the rage exhausted me and I was nearly there when a door on the other side of the room opened and a woman walked through.

Helen.

“I’m sorry I’m…late. There was a…meeting.” Her eyes locked on me and her steps faltered as much as her words had, but only slightly. The room could’ve been filled with people and no one else would’ve noticed her misstep, but I noticed. “Ashton.”

Her voice softened when she said my name and something deep inside me…shifted.

“Helen.”

“How are you?”

“Still an asshole,” Hale said, answering her question for me.

“Hale,” she scolded, getting closer to us.

“No. He’s right. I’m still an asshole. Probably more of one now.”

She was beautiful. Dark hair. A fading tan on her skin. Flowing linen pants and a black sweater.

Her make-up was minimal, but it always had been.

She’d never fussed over her looks or clothes or jewelry. She was shorter than me by a few inches, and she was always poised and put together. Professional. At least, she was now as one of the faces of Troye, LTD ?

Was the woman I’d known before still buried beneath? The one who wore jeans and sneakers? The one who pulled her hair up in a messy bun or in a ragged ponytail? The one who didn’t mind dirt or grease or tire dust?

God… I wanted her. All for myself.

That was one feeling I hadn’t had in the months since the wreck.

Want. Hunger for a woman. Desire for this woman.

I remembered a moment in the car when I realized I might die.

I remembered that one of the regrets I had was Helen.

I’d never kissed her. I never had the nerve to jack up my friendship with her and Hale by taking things in a direction beyond friendship.

Vague memories filtered in of her visiting me in the hospital. Her voice soothing me when I’d become agitated. The slight, familiar weight of her hand. The feel of her hair brushing against my face when she kissed me on the forehead.

And the anger settled in my gut once again like the fiery stone it was.

“I simply meant how are you doing?”

“I’m…” I had no idea how to answer that. “I’m putting one foot in front of the other. Is that what you’d call fine? If so, then I’m fine.”

“Good. Would you like to sit?” She indicated the chair nearby. “A drink? Coffee? Something stronger?”

“No. To all of it.”

“Alright.”

For a moment, she looked lost and uncomfortable, but it was fleeting. She sat on the edge of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap.

She was off limits. Always had been.

She was Hale’s sister. His twin. And even though he and I weren’t exactly friends right now, the line was still there. One didn’t mess with the other’s sister.

Maybe.

Everything had changed.

And Hale was right. I was still alive.

But how alive was the old Ashton? I was beginning to think he was gone and I didn’t know if he’d be coming back again.

The wreck had left me breathing, but it had also left me with a desire to hurt, to cause pain, to pay like with like.

Repaying Hale with a wreck of his own was something that neither of us may come back from, but I could definitely hurt him, take from him.

My gaze drifted to Helen who was staring off at the other side of the room, the long column of her neck just begging for my teeth, my lips, my mark.

Taking her would hurt him. Not on the same level, but on one a lot more personal.

I knew there was something flawed in my thought process, in the logic I was twisting, but I wasn’t sure I cared. That wreck took from me, he took from me. Accident or not. On purpose or not.

It was time for me to take something from him.

“Is there anything else?” Hale asked, drawing my attention back to him.

“Not right now.”

“Then maybe it’s a good time for you to go home.”

I was sure the tight, forced smile that floated across my lips conveyed just what he could do with his suggestion, but he was right. I needed to leave.

I inclined my head toward him, and when Helen stood and locked gazes with me again, my insides turned feral, wild and uncontrolled. I didn’t say anything, but the way she took half a step back before she caught herself told me she knew.

“It was good to see you, Helen.”

That was good enough for now.