Page 50 of Rear View

Xavier

The Parc Ferme was hopping. The energy on fire. It coursed through my damn veins, eager and ready to go. The zero car got into place, waiting for the green light to head out. Our crash the week before had messed with our standings, but we’d make it up.

Alec held his pace notes, scanning them again and again, his eyes focused while Zoya stood in the entrance, camera up, taking pic after pic of all the drivers.

I tugged my racing suit over my shoulders and sealed myself inside.

“This is pretty wild,” Mr. Nolan said from my right, brows lifted as he took in the chaos. “Are you used to it, yet?”

I grinned. “Not even close.”

Ryah’s hand brushed mine and my chest inflated. Christ, I loved her. Couldn’t get enough. Knowing she was with me, that she’d heard my darkest truth and still looked at me like she was proud to be mine, it hit hard in the best fuckin’ way.

Yara stood off to the side, chewing her nails as she eyed the car. She’d felt like shit after the drive-shaft in cident. Had made the crew check it six times already. Thing was solid.

“We’re up in three!” Earl called.

Mr. Nolan clapped me on the arm. “Good luck, son.” Leaning in, he pitched his voice low. “And kick all their asses, would you?”

I barked a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Mrs. Nolan wiggled in and pecked my cheek. “Thank you for keeping my girl safe.”

I inclined my head and offered said girl a wink. “My pleasure.”

Ryah’s arms circled my waist when she whispered, “I think they like you.”

My grip flexed against her, digging into her hip. It felt good being a part of something. I wasn’t family, not yet, but it sure as hell felt like they wanted me to be.

Running a knuckle along her temple, I asked, “You good here, darlin’?”

She smiled. “I’m good anywhere you are.” That smile tightened. “Just be safe.”

“Always, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

She pressed up onto her toes and I met her there, kissing her slow, and gentle, and respectful…’cause her goddamn parents were watching. Her needy fingers twisted in my suit, dragging me closer, and she let loose a soft little mewling sound.

Pulling back, I nudged my face along her jaw and groaned. “You’re killin’ me, dream girl.”

That pretty blush stained her cheeks. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” I kissed her once more for good measure, then turned to Alec and thumped his back with a fist. “Ready?”

“Let’s fucking go,” he said.

A smirk took me as we closed in on the car. Palm latching over the handle, I popped my door open and reached for my helmet on the seat.

“Xavier! Do you have a comment?” someone called from my right.

A media scrum stood just beyond the barrier there, clustered around something, mics stuck toward it as they all ducked under the rope and approached, twenty paces out and closing. Two familiar faces that had my chest imploding stood at the center.

“Oh, shit,” Alec said, his stare wide when it locked on me. “What do we do, X?”

I stretched my neck and straightened, readying myself, ’cause I didn’t goddamn well know. “The hell’s going on, Peter?”

My father stepped forward, Derek hot on his heels.

“Thought I should introduce myself to your friends.” My old man pivoted, angling sideways to gesture at the cameras.

I tried to pull air, but my lungs seized, refusing to work. Bad. Real fuckin’ bad. My glare locked on him. “What’re you playin’ at?”

He shrugged. “I told you, didn’t I?”

Told me about that payback he’d promised, and he’d called in the media. Christ. I flicked my gaze toward the Parc Ferme. Ryah stood in the entrance, Zoya at her side. My girl’s eyes were wild as they slid between my old man and me like she wanted to do something but had no clue what.

I put a hand out, telling her to stay back. Please, darlin’, just stay back.

One of the reporters shifted. “Your father claims you’re withholding information from the WRC that could be detrimental to your career. What do you have to say to that?”

My hands locked into fists. Fuck me.

Alec shook his head. “You’ve got no idea what you’re playing with here, Peter.”

“I’d mind myself if I were you, Alec,” he said. “Don’t want to crash and burn together, now.”

I cleared my throat. “Step off, old man.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest like he was some prick-faced enforcer.

My father laughed. The kinda laugh that was confident, as if he had the goods to back himself up.

’Cause he did. He stuffed his hands in his pockets like he wasn’t aiming to cut me at the knees.

His eyes creased with his grin. “You’ve been pretty tight-lipped around your past. Like maybe you forgot where you came from. ”

Rolling my shoulders, I squared to him. “I know exactly where I came from, asshole.”

Derek chucked his chin toward my crew and the cameras. “Do they?”

My mouth clamped shut, jaw ticking. I inhaled a harsh breath, then flexed my hands.

As if I’d given him that answer, the old man’s grin widened farther. My fist twitched, begging to wipe it off his face.

The eagerness in his stare had my gut torquing. “There seem to be a few things missing from your bio, son.”

“Don’t call me son.”

My girl’s copper eyes slid from my old man to me, then to the media circus around us.

Her body tensed, that gaze widening like she was exposed.

Scared. I needed to get her outta there, away from the cameras and the fall out.

Working to keep my voice level, I told her, “Why don’t you go back inside, darlin’. ”

Her hair vibrated around her paling face. She shook her head and didn’t move, her small feet rooted to the ground. For me.

My father laughed when some thought hit in those soulless goddamn eyes of his. “None of them know you, do they? Not the real you.” His face lit up like a kid’s on Christmas. Cameras clicked, lights flashing as he shook his head. He gripped his hand at the wrist. “Not what you’re capable of.”

My adrenaline spiked. I loved what I did, didn’t wanna lose it, but right then, all I could think of was Ryah and how she’d been dragged into my mess. Forced to deal with my old man. Fuck.

“I think it’s only fair they learn, right, son ?”

Jesus. Don’t do it, old man, don’t fuckin’ do it! I shook with the savage need for violence as I edged into his space and warned, “Keep your mouth shut, asshole!”

He didn’t budge, no doubt feeling tough since he had backup and an audience. Thought he had me back on my heels, ’cause he did. Then he went straight for my throat when he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Did you tell them you went to prison for framing me?”

Silence dropped like a lead weight.

Ryah’s hands flew to her mouth.

Alec cursed and the media went wild, circling behind me as they shoved their mics in my face and called their questions over one another.

My stomach dropped, my world tipping on its head. I clenched my fists so tight, my bones hurt. He’d done it—ripped open the door that couldn’t be closed. There was no going back. My career. Alec’s. My team. My chest goddamn hurt.

Derek leaned in. “You’re done now,” he said, pitching his voice low.

“You should’ve learned,” my father said, smirking as he stabbed a finger into my chest. “Don’t ever fuck with me, boy.”

My blood turned hot, my body coiling as the calm I’d worked so damn hard to contain, my restraint, my control, everything inside me, snapped. I drew back my fist and swung. It connected hard. Blood exploded from his nose, and he staggered back.

Screams broke out as the media scrambled away.

Derek shoved me, and I swung on him too, catching him across the jaw with a crack.

Alec moved in, grabbing my uncle by the scruff and blocking his path.

Peter righted and squared off, nostrils flarin’ when he charged my way.

I sidestepped, then latched a hand around his throat.

His eyes went wide, and he grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me off.

No such luck.

I tightened my grip, digging in until his skin buckled. His face turned red, whites of his eyes showing when they bulged outta his head.

More cries sounded, calling for me to stop. Ryah’s and others I couldn’t place. My team rushed in, and security followed next as all hell broke loose.