Page 35

Monterey

“Has he called yet?” my father asks me as I pace the tiny living space of my tiny hotel room.

I glance at my phone for the millionth time since this morning. The millionth time since the story broke about Danger and his father. “No, not yet.” My stomach churns in the hopes Danger will call to talk to me.

After last night I’m not holding my breath waiting for his call, but there’s something that’s keeping me tethered to my phone, hoping and praying he calls.

“You didn’t know?” my father asks me once again, even though I’ve told him over and over again I never knew about any of this.

I shake my head, unable to verbally get the no out for fear of crying. That’s been one of the hardest feats of the day, trying to keep my composure. Because I know once I see Danger I’ll lose it all.

The tears will break free from the dam I’m erecting every minute we’re apart.

There’s a knock at the door, and my father heads in that direction. I hold my breath, knowing full well who’s on the other side this early in the morning.

Danger barges into the room once my father lets him in.

“Danger, what are you doing here?”

“I’m quitting the team.”

My father wheels over closer to where Danger stands, and I can’t keep my eyes off his disheveled appearance. He looks like he hasn’t slept. His hair is all over the place, like he’s literally tugged each strand over and over. “Why don’t you sit down and we can figure this out.”

“Sit down?” Danger laughs, anger radiating from his body. “There’s nothing to figure out, Luther. I’m done.”

He doesn’t spare me a single glance. Is he quitting on me too?

I find my voice. “You can’t just give up.”

His face scares me a little. I study his eyes, the darkness dwelling beneath the surface and it breaks my heart. I read his father’s book. I could never imagine living that kind of nightmare.

I want to hug Danger. I want to imprint his soul to mine and never let him go. And in this moment, it’s the closest I’ve ever come to understanding the man. The nightmares he has in the middle of the night.

The everything.

And my heart cracks on the surface, moving deeper the longer I stare at him.

And for one second, I swear he looks like he wants to rush into my arms as badly as I want to hold him. Like a bird that’s been caged its whole life, and once freed falters a bit before flying freely.

I can see the exact moment he decides against coming to me for comfort. He turns, facing my father this time. “Luther, may I have a moment alone with your daughter?”

My father stares at me like a lost puppy, unsure if he should leave the room or stay.

I smile. “I’ll be ok.” I nod him away, letting him know I trust Danger.

“I would never hurt her,” Danger says, picking up on my father’s hesitation. Then, his eyes blaze into mine. “There’s no need to continue the farce.”

“Farce?”

“This fake relationship.”

Another crack straight down the center. “Danger, I…” I wait for my father to leave the room, thankful for the little extra time to craft a well-deserved explanation of why I want to continue the charade. Once he’s left, and I’m alone with Danger I face him. “Maybe...” but my words fall away, because he’s right, there’s zero reason to keep this going.

“There’s just no point.”

“You don’t need to quit because of this.”

“Yes, I do.”

I step an inch closer, craving for his warmth.

This isn’t wanting. It’s raw and primal.

“Danger, why didn’t you ever tell me. You knew I was reading that book.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor behind his laugh. “And what? Am I a broken man for you now? Fuck, can’t you see? I have nothing but a shitty past and no future.”

I move closer. “You are much more than that, Dylan. I could never think any less of you.” How could I? None of it was his fault. He can’t help the fact the man who raised him had an evil soul.

He shakes his head. “How could you ever trust a man that was raised in filth?”

“Don’t say that.” The tears have started, but somehow I’m able to keep them from spilling over.

“I could never be good enough for you. I could never give you what you want.”

My heart hurts at his words. How can he even believe this? “That’s not true.”

His dark eyes meet mine, and I can see the finality in them. There’s no changing his mind on this subject. “Monterey, you deserve better.”

“So do you. You deserve to win, and you’re in a very good position to do just that. Don’t let this deter you.”

He shovels a hand through his hair, making the dark strands even more messy. “Everything is over.”

I’m standing right in front of him now. One more inch and I could kiss him, if I wanted. And I do, more than anything. I wish in this moment right now, that Danger would wrap his strong arms around me and hold me tight, telling me everything will be ok.

But he doesn’t. And I don’t dare budge.

“The man I know would never let something like this stand in his way.”

His mouth lifts on one end into a slight smirk. “Guess you don’t know me that well.” And then he turns around and walks out of the room.

And I’m left heaving, the damn broken, and the tears spilling of their own free will.

I don’t even try to stop them now, letting them stain my cheeks with their salty burn.

* * *

I make the drive from Portland to LA with my father. My father handed Danger over to Crank, and together they flew back to LA.

Crank’s on strict orders not to let Danger out of his sight, but once they arrived at LAX, Danger disappeared.

He could be anywhere.

And there’s really no way for me to find him.

We have a week until the last race, and I don’t even know where to begin looking.

I head to my house, and once I arrive I take off my heels, and pour myself a glass of red wine. It’s been a long two days since I’ve seen Danger. Now that I’m back home in LA, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Normally, I’d start a bubble bath and read a steamy romance novel. But now, after being with Danger there’s no book boyfriend in the world that could ever compete with the real thing.

I push away the thoughts of fantasy, and sink into my comfy oversized chair and sip on my wine, pondering my heart out on where Dylan can be.

There’s things I know about him that still don’t make sense. Details in the book that don’t add up.

I need to put my feelings aside and think of this. The answer is hidden somewhere.

But where should I start?

“Screw this,” I say to myself, setting down my glass of wine and grabbing my laptop. I pull up my search engine, and type Earl Wheeler into the search bar.

I’m flooded with images and stories of the savage man.

I stare at the photo of Earl, noticing the resemblance between them both.

I pull up the first story, recounting the gory details of the night he killed his wife. How Earl had murdered her because she found a woman from the college Earl worked at as a janitor once his racing career was over, lying dead on the basement floor. Earl had murdered over twelve female students from the college. In the book, Earl never really mentioned his family at all. Only that his wife caught him in the act.

He really only portrays the hunger he had from watching the women at the college while working there. He goes into details about the murders, and the book hit the bestsellers list and stayed there for over twenty-two weeks.

I keep scrolling, looking at family portraits of Earl, his wife, Pearl, and their son, Dylan.

But who is Isabella? And how does she tie into everything?

Did he meet her after he ran away? Maybe she helped him escape? He probably needed somebody to help him.

I keep scrolling, reading story after story until my eyes burn to stay open. I keep seeing the name of the prison his father sits in day after day, paying for his sins, and I decide to head there tomorrow. To have a talk with him.

If anyone is going to help me find Danger, it’s the devil himself.