Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) Read Free Page B

“I’ll be the one racing laps around your ass.”
    “Keep telling yourself that,” Enzo laughs, “Poor little boy.
I remember my first F1 series. Once you’ve got some experience, you’ll start to understand
that strategy and precision trump a movie star smile any day. You may be a
charming little bastard, but I’ve been training far longer than you have. And
that’s what counts in the end. I’m just going to sit back and watch you figure
out how inferior you really are.”
    “That’s about enough of that,” Harrison says, his voice quietly
intense.
    “Have I finally struck a nerve?” Enzo smiles, “Good. You
should be unnerved. You’re out of your league.”
    “That’s pretty high talk coming from someone I beat this
afternoon,” Harrison says.
    “That was luck, plain and simple. And you being a dirty
opportunist, of course.”
    “What the hell is your problem, Lazio? You’ve had it out for
me from the start.”
    “Damn right,” my brother says, “And I still do.”
    “You threatening me?” Harrison asks, taking a menacing step
forward.
    “What of it?” Enzo asks, edging forward himself.
    “I mean to protect myself, is all,” Harrison growls, “And I
don’t go down without a fight, I’ll tell you that.”
    “That so?” Enzo asks, shoving Harrison lightly.
    “Damn right,” Harrison returns, shoving back with just a
little more force.
    “That’s enough!” Dad shouts, pulling Enzo away from
Harrison.
    “Come on,” Andy says, stepping forward to pull Harrison away
from my brother, “This isn’t you, mate.”
    “A little friendly rivalry never killed anyone, right
Harrison?” Enzo shoots, turning back to Team Ferrelli.
    “There’s a first time for everything,” Harrison replies,
storming out of the lobby.
    “What was that?” Enzo shouts, as Team McClain disappears
into the hotel, “What the hell did he just say to me?”
    “Stop your yelling,” Gus grumbles, punching Enzo on the arm,
“You’re acting like a teenage hot head. Let’s all just make it to Moscow in one
piece, shall we?”
    Team Ferrelli goes on toward the doors, but I linger behind.
Against my better judgment, I let my eyes follow Harrison toward the bank of
elevators. He turns toward me, his eyes full of conflicted frustration. I wish
I could go to him, soothe him, make things right. But his team closes in around
him, with that horrible Shelby person in among his inner circle, and I find
myself flanked at once by Charlie and Bex.
    “Come on, Siena,” Bex says, “They’re going to leave without
us if we don’t hurry.”
    I let myself be towed across the lobby by my maybe-friends,
tearing my eyes away from Harrison. This is going to be harder than I ever
could have imagined. Why was I stupid? I seriously thought that we might make
it out of this season unscathed, free to be together. What a joke. More and
more, it’s looking like whatever chance at happiness we might have had together
is sputtering out. I don’t know how to face that, don’t know who to turn to if
not Harrison. He’s the first person I’ve ever met who understands me on a level
that goes deeper than words, further than logic. And he’s the one person I
can’t talk to about this.
    I follow Bex and Charlie out to Ferrelli’s fleet of private
cars. We take off toward the airport, where our private jet will be waiting to
ferry us all to Moscow. I used to take such joy in jetting around the world
with my team, but this season has changed everything. How can I enjoy myself
when everything is unraveling all around me?
    As we arrive at the airport, I feel another buzz against my
leg. More texts from the blackmailer, perhaps? I haven’t seen Charlie touch his
cell the whole ride. I whip out my phone and peer down—it’s from Harrison
again. I open up the text, making sure that no one can see its contents.
    “You seem upset,” it reads, “Did I do something wrong? I
want to see you in Moscow. Tell me that I can.”
    My thumbs hover