“Now listen, today’s a test,” he began. “Not for you, but for Jett to see if he’s gone all soft. They want to see if he still has what it takes. The best you can do is keep quiet and trust what he’s doing, because Jett—” he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly “—was our best driver, and many of us want him back.”
There was more to the story. It was all over Kenny’s face. It was in his eyes and the way he considered his words carefully.
“What happened?” Sylvie asked, as though reading my mind.
Kenny pointed to a box on the table. “Make sure you wear gloves, just in case.”
It was an obvious maneuver to avoid answering Sylvie’s question. I decided to rephrase.
“What if he wins and we stay? Will there be any problems?” I asked.
“After what happened, maybe,” Kenny said. “Better ask Jett.”
I bit my lip, wondering what he meant. So much of Jett’s past was in the dark, and while it didn’t bother me because I knew he’d open up to me eventually, I sensed the magnitude of the situation.
“You have five minutes left,” Kenny said and then walked out, leaving Sylvie and me alone. In the privacy of the room, my walls of confidence began to crumble.
“This is such a mess. What if we lose?” I whispered.
She clicked her tongue and sat down beside me. “Back in Italy you said he was good.”
“We were chased and made it out alive. Everything is a big blur infused by panic.” I shuddered as I remembered the winding mountain roads. “I was scared out of my mind, Sylvie, and can’t remember much. This is different, but just as scary. God knows I hate when people speed, particularly when I’m inside the vehicle.”
“Is it strange that I have faith in him?” Sylvie asked. “I know he wouldn’t do anything reckless and risk your life.”
I didn’t know if her words were meant to reassure me, or if she meant them. It didn’t matter either way.
“Thanks. But I’m not worried about Jett doing anything reckless,” I admitted. “I’m worried that if we lose, he won’t be able to accept failure.”
I could see my own fear reflected in Sylvie’s eyes. Truth be told, I had never seen Jett losing at anything. So how would he deal with it?
“Just believe in him, Brooke,” Sylvie whispered.
“You’re right,” I replied. “What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s probably just a stupid race on some training ground, right?”
“I have no clue.” She checked her watch. “But Kenny said have only five minutes left, so get dressed before someone barges in here and drags you out there. That Brian guy looks like he’s capable of it.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” I closed the door behind her and changed into the suit. It was loose on me, but not to the point of being unwearable. I grabbed some gloves, and left the sanctuary of the changing rooms.
The woman from before wasn’t outside, but the door to my left was open and animated voices carried over from inside. I walked in and stopped in my tracks. In front of us were eight sports cars, four on each side—the kind of vehicles I only knew from car magazines. My jaw almost dropped as my eyes swept over one luxury model after another. They looked like they had just been imported from the manufacturer, and if it wasn’t for their registration numbers, I would have believed they were.
Some of the drivers had already taken their places behind the wheel. Jett hadn’t arrived yet, and the agitated murmurs showed his arrival was highly anticipated.
I spied Brian leaning against a shiny blue Ferrari, and he smiled when our eyes connected. His confidence was overpowering, and while he wasn’t my type, I couldn’t help but be aware of his masculinity from the way his probing glance lingered on me. He was assessing me, probably wondering why Jett would return for me to the place he once left. I raised my chin and smiled back. But it was a cold smile, one that was supposed to say, You don’t know me, and you’ll never figure me out.
The door opened, and Jett entered trailed by a dark skinned guy. The room fell silent. Like me, he was dressed in a black racing suit. I had no idea when or where he had changed, but he looked so hot my knees turned weak in spite of my better judgment. The fabric sat snug around his broad shoulders and narrow hips. The zipper at the front wasn’t fully zipped up, revealing a bronze patch of skin just below his neck. I fought the urge to rise on my toes and place a kiss on it just to see whether he tasted as delicious as he looked.
His gaze barely brushed me as he inched closer. I knew when he was angry—and right now he was fuming.
Brian threw Jett the keys, and Jett caught them in midair.
“We kept your baby. Thought you might feel more at home,” Brian said. “If you need time, you know, to check your tires or whatever, let me know and I’ll tell Doug.”
“No need. My guys know how I like her,” Jett said.
Her?
His car was a “she”?
What did you expect, Stewart?
I suppressed the urge to smile. It was a male thing—like getting all worked up about a bunch of guys running across a football field for hours—but the knowledge didn’t make it less sexy.
Jett’s fingers settled firmly on my lower back as he guided me to the dark red sports car to our left. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to get in. I followed his unspoken command and watched him drop into the driver’s seat, then fasten his seatbelt.
Engines began to roar, and the crowd dissipated. The wall opposite from us shifted and slowly opened, giving a view of the street and the parking lots. Most of the people got into their cars, and I realized they were spectators.
Jett pushed the key into the ignition and turned on the engine, then drove outside slowly, past the parked vehicles and onto the main road. Hundreds of questions swirled around in my head. Who was Doug? Was he the guy who’d be racing against Jett? Where were we heading, and what exactly was going to happen?
I stole a glance at Jett. His eyes were focused on the road, and I decided to postpone my interrogation. His strained expression worried me even more than not knowing what to expect.
In the rearview mirror, I saw several cars trailing us. Jett changed lanes. A blue car cut in front of the others and drove next to us. I didn’t need to look at the driver to know it was Brian. Jett’s foot remained on the accelerator, and for a moment I thought he wouldn’t let Brian pass. And then our car slowed down, and Brian cut in front of us, and his taillights blinked once.
He was mocking us. Putting on a show.
Seemingly unaffected, Jett followed the blue Ferrari at a leisurely speed to God knows where.
Chapter 23
THROUGHOUT THE DRIVE Jett kept quiet, and I didn’t speak in case he was tapping into his inner powers, or planning his strategy, or whatever professional drivers did. It was only after we’d left the city behind that Jett broke the silence.
“Why did you have to intervene, Brooke?” His voice was calm but angry.
I didn’t need to ask. My gut feeling told me.
Jett’s face remained an impenetrable mask as we waited for the games to begin.
“How does this work?” I whispered.
“Three rounds with various checkpoints to make sure no one’s bluffing,” Jett whispered back. “The first round’s always bumpy. The second is all about speed. The third’s unpredictable. Whoever makes it back first wins. That’s about it.”
I nodded, even though I hadn’t caught half of what he said. Judging from the tense lines around his mouth, he was nervous. I didn’t like it, because Jett was never nervous.