Page 27 of Rear View

Xavier

“Right, six, plus, into left, four, sharp, fifty,” Alec said, giving me the heads-up for the final leg of the road in front of us.

I took the turns as we ran the Shakedown, sun blazing above, my eyes fixed on the terrain.

Both feet worked the pedals, ’cause one wasn’t fast enough.

Tall trees lined the road right to the edge.

I drove the shifter forward, kicking it up a gear before I passed the finish line and pulled the e-brake, snow flying in a wide arc.

I hadn’t gone all out, but I’d set a good pace.

Enough to get a feel for how the race’d go the next two days.

Alec closed the book with his pace notes, and we eyed each other.

“That felt good,” he said.

It felt real fuckin’ good. I clapped him on the back, and we drove to the Parc Ferme, where our team waited, tugged off our helmets and climbed out. Tools and screens lined the wall next to extra parts and tires. The bay doors sat open, letting the cool air in.

Things had gone aces since we’d landed in Emerald Cove. I’d been riding high after leaving Ryah Tuesday night. Christ, I hadn’t been able to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face, ’cause she was my girl. Mine.

Yara and the mechanic’s team streamed past, headed for the car. “Looking good, boys,” she said, teeth bared in a smile.

Trina’s heels clacked as she approached. She adjusted her tight green wool dress as she stopped in front of us. “Hello, Xavier. Alec.”

I gave a nod and lifted my chin. “What’s up?”

“The WRC’s seen exponential growth in their following and viewership numbers since your commercials went live. Specifically with the female demographic. Social media’s exploding with footage of your races. Your faces are a commodity.”

I straightened, my brow dipping low. “That a good thing?”

“It’s a great thing,” she said. “We’ve received three bids from potential sponsors, asks for two more commercials and a request from NSM to do an interview.”

Jesus. National Sports Magazine was top tier for any athlete. That was good. Attention meant money. Money meant resources, and resources meant speed. I could handle that.

Yeah, it’d put my face front and center for my old man, but the relentless dick’s brother had found me anyway. If I was lucky, my being known would make it harder for him to fuck with me, and by default, Ma.

Trina set her hand on my bicep. “You’ll be chatting with Vikram Kumar this evening, Xavier. Alec, you’re immediately after. The magazine wants to discuss your careers and the impact of bachelors in sport.”

I frowned and pulled my arm back. “I’ll do the interview, but I ain’t a bachelor. I’ve got a girl.” The best girl. And damn, if that didn’t feel good to say. The keep-her-forever kind.

“And I’m engaged,” Alec reminded her.

“Oh.” She paused. “I was unaware.” A rustling of papers sounded. “I’m sure we can figure something out.” Earl waved her over from across the room. “I’m needed elsewhere.” Her gaze met mine. “I’ll fetch you in your room tonight. Eight PM.” At that, she turned and sauntered away.

“Shit.” Alec hit me with his elbow. “X.”

Following his line of sight, I spotted Castillo where he waited in the entrance to the Parc Ferme, his attention locked on me.

My stomach twisted, ’cause no way that was good. Tugging my racing suit’s zipper low, I headed toward him.

He buttoned his black wool coat, and adjusted his aviators. “Xavier.”

My nod was tight. “Castillo.” I leaned a shoulder against the open garage frame, crossed my feet at the ankles, then peered around, making sure no one would hear before I looked back at him. “What’s up?”

“I figured I’d come by and give you the news myself.” He loosened the knot of his tie. “The parole board ruled.”

I clenched my hands into fists, readying myself, ’cause Castillo didn’t pull his punches, and my gut told me a hard one was coming.

He stared past me. “Your dad’s getting out on good behavior. No restrictions.”

My fists clenched tighter, the skin creaking loudly. Good goddamn behavior? Fuck that. The guy was human garbage on his best day. He’d just been thrown in the clink with bigger-and-badder assholes. Not as fun to fuck around with them when he’d be guaranteed to find out.

I took a beat, then a breath.

“You alright?” Castillo asked.

I lifted a shoulder. I wasn’t worried about me. I could handle my old man. But Ma… “Any idea what his plans are?”

He shook his head. “He’s not required to check in.” He scratched the length of his jaw. “The recidivism rate for abusers is high. Chances are, he either finds someone new and repeats what happened, or—”

“Or he finds Ma and repeats what happened.” They’d been in each other’s lives since they were teens. High school goddamn sweethearts. But after she got pregnant with Fallon, even she admitted, she gave up, ’cause the old man had her right where he’d wanted her. Jobless. Reliant. Trapped.

And no one left him.

I gave a stiff nod.

“Is she still in a safe place?” he asked.

Christ, I loved Ma, but sometimes, I just wished she’d pushed back. Told the cops what the old man had done instead of freezing. He’d have been put away longer and we wouldn’t be dealing with this shit. Not yet, anyway.

“Safe as she can be. He won’t find her.” And I’d take care of him if he tried.

Castillo tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. “Good.”

“When’s he out?”

“Release is scheduled for next Friday at nine AM.” He shifted, then eyed his shiny black dress shoes.

There was more. Had to be, seeing he’d driven all that way and this could’ve been a call. “What else?”

He exhaled, his head coming back up. “He’s been asking about you behind the scenes.”

Not a shock, considering Derek’s messages. Still, the muscles of my arms corded, and I pulled in a deep breath. “Askin’ what?”

“Trying to learn your situation through other inmates.”

Of course he was. I cleared my throat and stretched my neck. “How’d you hear that?”

“I’ve got my sources.”

And he’d kept his ear to the ground…for me.

“He told the parole board he hopes to reconcile with you.”

My lone laugh was dark as hell. Didn’t matter how long he’d been behind bars.

My old man hadn’t learned shit. Some things—some people —never changed.

And he wasn’t the reconciling type. He wanted something.

My mother and trouble tops on that list. But if the prick came near me again, my fist might reconcile with his face.

Like he’d read my thoughts, Castillo shook his head. “Don’t do it, Xavier.” The snow crunched when he took a step closer. “Don’t feed into him. You’ve worked too hard to lose it all over a waste of skin like Peter Bosch.”

My nod was slow “Appreciate you comin’ out here to let me know.”

His expression creased. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

So was I.

“I have to get back.” He edged away, heading for the parking lot. “Take care of yourself, Xavier. If there’s anything you need…” He let the offer hang. Several seconds later, he was gone.

I stared after him, mind spinnin’ like a wheel with no torque. Christ. My old man was getting out. Walking the streets and free to do whatever the fuck he wanted, just like before. Only this time, he’d have a clean slate.

The idea of telling Ma. I couldn’t. She wouldn’t sleep. She’d start jumping at every little thing like she used to.

My blood pressure spiked, my teeth grinding hard. “Fuck!”

I needed to give her the heads-up, but not as pissed as I was. I glanced around, I couldn’t stay there. Needed to clear my head. Needed to go. And there was only one place I wanted to be. Only one thing—one person —that’d help.

“You good?” Alec asked.

Dragging a hand through my hair, I checked my watch. “I gotta bounce.”

His brows rose.

“I’ll be back.”

He narrowed his eyes but inclined his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

I thumped a fist against his back in thanks before I headed for my Jeep, pulled out my phone, and fired off a message.

Me: You around?

I didn’t wait for a response, just hopped in, and headed her way, hoping to hell she was there. I wouldn’t have long, needed to get back sooner than later, but I needed her more.

The two-hour drive to Ryah’s place was quiet, the only sounds the hum of my thick tire treads over the road and the chaos of the thoughts screaming inside my head. I set an elbow on the window ledge and my chin in my hand, trying to think, but coming up short.

What felt like a fuckin’ age later, I pulled into her lot and parked. I checked my phone. No reply. My lungs constricted. She must’ve been at school or something. Or out. The thought of her with Christian punched me in the gut. I dragged a hand through my hair.

I was an idiot. She probably didn’t even—

My phone rang and I snapped it up. When I saw the name on the screen, my lip twitched, head hanging in relief. I clicked to accept. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey.” There was a shuffle like she was movin’ around. “Sorry I missed your text. I fell asleep, then hopped in the shower.”

I internally groaned, and forced my imagination to chill.

She paused. “What’s wrong?”

Clearing my throat, I shifted, making my leather seat creak. “Who said anythin’ was wrong?”

“I just…something in your message felt off.”

She’d picked that up from one damn sentence. A smile tugged my mouth. This fuckin’ girl. “I just needed you.” My stare flicked to the entrance of her building. Shit. Was it too much? Me just showing up?

“Then come over.”

I laughed and scrubbed a hand up the back of my neck and over my hair. “What would you say if I told you I’m already here?”

Another pause. The call disconnected.

My goddamn heart seized, and I stared at my screen, stomach churning hard.

Ryah burst out the front door, head whipping from side to side until she spotted me. Her squeal carried through the Jeep as she ran my way. I grinned and the pressure that’d built across my chest eased—a pressure I hadn’t felt since before learning my old man’d been carted off in cuffs.

Climbing out, I headed for her, then stopped dead. My eyes hooded deep when I soaked her in.