CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE DASH

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

DASH

I bring the bike to a quick stop and jump up off it. I tear off my helmet and unzip my leather suit. I only unzip it far enough for me to remove my arms out of the sleeves. I'm sweating and fucking hot as hell.

"You need to take it easy," a man wearing a Knight Racing shirt says as he kneels down next to the bike. "You're gonna burn up the motor."

"Well, fix it to where I won't," I snap back.

"It can only take so much. You're pushing it too hard."

"I'm doing what it's made to do," I growl. "If this motor can't handle it, then fucking fix it."

"Dash…" Mr. Knight says as he walks onto the racetrack. We've been at it all day, every day, for a week now. A fucking week and I still can't get it right. "Let's take a break." He softly taps my shoulder. And I stretch my neck to each side, giving it a little crack. My back is sore, and my entire body is tight. I need to relax. I need to get laid.

I place my arms in my sleeves and start to pull my leathers up when Mr. Knight grabs it. "Take the rest of the day off."

"Are you serious?" I ask wide-eyed. "We have a race in a week."

"I am. You need a break, Erik. I need your head in the game, and we both know it's not there."

I throw my hands out to my side. "What do you want me to do?" I question. "I'm here. I'm racing. And I'm doing a damn good job, if I might add," I say defensively. We've spent every day this week out at the track. Today they were having an open track day, and I paid the fee it required and jumped on the bike. I've whooped all of their asses. Hell, I'm a damn good rider, but I am going to be up against pros soon. And if I don't qualify, then I won't even get to race.

"So far, you're driving reckless. It's amazing you haven't gone down yet while practicing this week. And you can't race if you injure yourself."

I hang my head and run my hand through my sweat-drenched hair. I know he's right. I've been riding the bike too hard. I've been pushing it to the point it smoked. I've been going through tires like I go through beer on any given weekend. And even though I know he's right, I continue to argue. "I'm doing what you hired me to do. And I'm getting a faster time every single time I get out on that track," I say pointing to it.

"I'm not gonna tell you again," he growls, getting tired of arguing with me. "Go home and blow off some steam." He nods down to the mechanic who is kneeling by my bike. "Load it up," he tells him and then looks back at me. "You gotta know when to quit, son."

I spin around and tighten my left hand into a fist. If this helmet wasn't my favorite, I would throw it to the fucking ground. Instead, I hold on to it. I quickly make my way back over to where I parked my car and pop the trunk. I place my helmet in it and peel my leathers off the rest of the way. I'm left in my boxers and Under Armor t-shirt that fits like a glove. You have to wear them or the leathers will rub your skin raw. I grab a new t-shirt out of the back of the trunk along with a pair of shorts and pull them on.

"Not gonna finish?" I hear Blake ask from behind me.

"Nope. I've been sent home for the day," I inform him as if he didn't just hear the conversation.

It's been a week since I saw Tabatha at the party, and I haven't told a soul what I saw. Not even Blake. He has to know that she's seeing his brother. What hurts is that he hasn't mentioned it to me, either. I've been avoiding all of them, especially her. It's for the best. I have to get over her and we both need to move on. She obviously already has. And that brings me to Valerie. She would be very useful right now, if we were talking. But she has not called me since the night of my party when she confessed to cutting my brakes. So that is a no-go. The sad thing is that I would totally fuck her if given the chance. Women give us too much credit. We really are pieces of shit.

"Dash?" Mr. Knight hollers as he stands over by the bike. I turn to face him. "Change of plans. Meet me at my house. We need to go over a few things." Then he dismisses me by turning back to the mechanic.

I slam my trunk closed and climb into my Bentley, not even bothering to say good-bye to Blake.

***

I walk into their house and make my way to the kitchen. I need a water. My mouth is dry, and all I've done today is sweat my ass off. I open up the fridge and grab a bottle. I twist the lid off and turn around to leave when I pause the bottle at my lips. There sitting at the kitchen table is Tabatha. She's staring at me with wide eyes and open mouth. God, it's hard to look at her after what I saw. But I can't look away, either.

"Dash," she breathes, and my cock starts to harden remembering what her breath felt like on my neck when we were in bed. Then I remember the fact that my best friend's brother is also experiencing that side of her. Bitch! "What are you doing here?" She licks her lips as if they're dry.

I clear my throat. "I have a meeting with your father."

She nods, and I watch her swallow nervously. "I've been trying to call you."

"I know." I've been ignoring them.

She hangs her head for a second, and I take the chance to drink some of my water. "I wanted to tell you thank you," she says softly.

I swallow and pull the bottle of water slowly away from my lips. "For what?"

She licks her lips and it reminds me of the taste of them on mine. How soft they were wrapped around my cock…Stop, Dash! "For what you did to Rodger," she whispers.

"He deserved it!" And I deserve you. Not really, that's me just being selfish.

She nods her head slowly, and I allow my eyes to search her face. Her bruises look better, almost gone. She almost looks like the beautiful girl I saw walk into my parents' kitchen, but I know it's not the same girl. The one who had confidence and knew the world was at her fingertips. I would give anything to be her world. My chest tightens as she opens her mouth to speak.

"So…uh…" She stumbles over her words. "How have you been?"

"Not as good as you." The words leave my lips before I have the chance to stop them.

Her back straightens. "What does that mean?" she demands, finding the words pretty easily now.

Why lie? Why not tell her that I know? Just get it out in the open? "I know you're fucking Jake." I hate how jealous I sounded. Pathetic.

She gasps. "You're the one out sleeping around with other women."

I hate how much I love the sound of jealousy coming from her lips. It's crazy how good it feels when the tables are turned. But it's not true. I chuckle. "So you fuck my best friend's brother and then accuse me of sleeping around? Classic," I say, my words dripping with sarcasm.

"Dash…I swear it's not…"

I hold my hand up. "You don't have to pretend. I saw you with him in the bathroom at the party." I laugh at myself. She must think I'm crazy, but that's what she has made me. Crazy.

"You were there?" She starts to shake her head quickly. "I swear that's not what it was."

"Quit lying."

"Lying?" she sneers as she pushes her chair back from the table. "You're the one who lies. Or do you not remember the conversation we had at the police station?"

"I remember," I snap. "I remember you acting like you had no idea why Rodger came over to your house after I had just been there."

She points her finger at me. "You wanna know the truth? Fine." I have moment of panic. Do I really wanna hear that she is still in love with Rodger? That I'll never live up to the woman-beating fuckface that he is. "My doorbell rang, and I answered it thinking it was you coming back. He came inside and told me that he had messed with your brakes. He said that if I didn't give him what he wanted, that he would go after you again. To teach me a lesson." Her voice rises. "He asked me what I was willing to give up in order to save you. And I told him me. I would give him me to make sure you were safe." Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and I see the tears start to well up in her eyes. "But I couldn't do it." Her voice breaks. "I couldn't go back to that life. To being controlled. To being numb to everything." She lifts her hands and angrily wipes the tears from her face. "I'm sorry that I failed you. That I didn't go with him to ensure your safety," she says with bite.

"Tabatha," I say softly. "I would never want you to…"

"I had to fight. Fight for myself. I was gonna die trying." She takes a deep breath. "And as for Jake. Some drunk ass spilled his mixed drink all over my shirt. And he helped me to the bathroom. He gave me his shirt to wear. Yes, he kissed me. And I freaked. I yelled at him. I made a fool of myself in front of everyone there. But I haven't spoken to him since. It was a mistake. A mistake that I regret more than anything."

"More than me?" The words slip from my lips before I can stop them

"I don't regret you." She wipes her hands on her jeans and takes another step toward me. "I have tried to call you to explain myself. I understand why you came to my house after what happened with you and Valerie. I was so mad that I had been right. The night before, when I left you that note, I was letting you off the hook. Because I knew that you were going to do stuff with her, and I didn't want you to be a cheater. Our relationship had already been so fucked-up to the point that I didn't wanna add more to it." She swallows. I go to speak, but she lifts her hand to stop me. "I…" She takes a deep breath. "I was with Rodger for a year. And in the beginning the relationship, what we had was what I thought I wanted. But over time, I slowly lost myself. I became dependent on him. And that first night I met you, I just wanted to be me. Find the old me who I loved. And when I saw what you were willing to do with Valerie to get that information…"

"I told you I would give up racing for your dad for you," I remind her.

"I didn't want you to do that," she cries. "Because I don't wanna change you."

"People change," I say taking a step toward her. "Dreams change. You start to want things that you never knew were possible," I say as I lift my hand and cup her face.

She sniffs. "I love you, Dash. I wanted to tell you how I felt the moment you walked into my house that night, but I was too mad at you for what you had done. I was pissed that I had been right."

"Right about what?"

"That you would put her and your dream before us." I can't argue with her because I did. I was mad at her as well for writing that stupid note. But none of that matters now. "You love me?"

She nods her head. "I thought us being apart would be best for me. That it would give me a chance to find myself. But I realize that I'm at my best when I'm with you. I feel strong when you hold my hand. I feel loved when you cuddle with me. I love the way you make me feel about myself. Not what you try to make me be."

I lean down and kiss her hair before I wrap my arms around her and pull her in for a tight hug. She quickly looks up at me and her eyes shine from the tears. "I didn't sleep with Jake. I swear it. I kissed him and it was a mistake. Please forgive me."

No more secrets. No more lies. They've all been laid out on the table, yet we're both still standing here waiting for the other one to walk away. But the thing is that I do believe her. I understand more than anyone does how something can look one way but the truth be exactly the opposite.

"Dash…?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Shh. I believe you." I pull her head back against my chest. She has to feel my heart pounding and my pulse racing.

Just as I go to speak again, she pulls away and wipes the tears off her face. "My father raised me to always say what I feel. He would say, ‘Sweet pea, people can't read your mind. In order for them to understand what you want, you have to tell them.'" She chuckles to herself. "Rodger took that part of me away. To him, women weren't allowed to have opinions or wants." She looks up at me. "I was afraid to tell you how I felt, but you weren't. You were much stronger than I was. But if you just give me the chance, I will show that I can be just as strong as you."

Her words are like a knife to my heart. I didn't realize how much she was hurting. When I was with her, she seemed so happy. How was I supposed to know what she felt when she was alone?

I reach up and place my hands on her soft face. My fingers run across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. "I don't want you to be afraid of what you feel," I tell her. "I want you to feel safe." My eyes scan her forehead. You can barely see the scar where her stitches were. "I would never want you to lose yourself in order to love me." I love a strong-willed woman who has a mind of her own. That's what made me fall in love with her in the first place. She was so free.

She reaches up and grabs a hold of my shirt. Her hands tightly grip it, and she buries her face into my chest once again. "I've missed you so much," she cries.

I lean down and kiss her hair. "Not as much as I've missed you," I admit.

We stand there in her parents' kitchen for a good ten minutes as we hold each other. Her cries start to subside, and her grip on me loosens. She eventually pulls back and looks up at me. "I do love you." She licks her lips. "I've wanted to tell you that ever since you told me that night."

I smile down at her. "I love you. But you already know that." She chuckles to herself and nods her head.

"So you say."

"I'll prove it," I say, and her smile widens.

She pushes her chest into mine and whispers, "Kiss me."

I grab her face and lower my lips to hers. I kiss her desperately. As if she's air and I've been drowning. Because that is what she does for me. She helps me survive. Her body presses into mine and her lips work with mine as if they know what I'm gonna do next.

She sighs as she pulls away. "I have to leave," she says, and I grip her tighter.

"Please. Stay," I beg her as I look around and realize that I am still at her parents' house and her father is probably going to walk in any minute.

She actually gives me a small smile. "I have to get home. But I wouldn't mind a little company when you're done here," she suggests. "That is if you don't already have plans." She nibbles on her lower lip nervously.

"Even if I did, I would cancel them," I say in all honesty.

She giggles, and God, does it sounds amazing. It's crazy how only minutes ago, I hated her for turning me away. How low I felt that she broke my heart. And now…now, I feel high and drunk at the same time. All because I now know that she loves me. She reaches up and gives me a soft kiss. "I'll see you soon." And then she pushes away from me and leaves me standing in the kitchen alone.