Drive

Aiden pulled out onto US-1, watching his rearview mirror closely.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Madison asked.

She hadn’t spoken since he’d backed off earlier in the parking lot. A little fancy driving and they were free to cruise for a bit. He did his best thinking behind the wheel of a car, so a little joy ride wasn’t a bad thing.

“Canales is encouraging his boys to harass me. It should be harmless, but we can’t risk them interfering with what we have going on.”

“Harass you? That’s harmless? I’d hate to see what you do to someone who actually threatens you.”

“The gun was to warn him to back off. For the record, I’m always armed.”

“There’s one under my seat and another in the glove box.”

“Holy hell.” She drew her legs up, as if the gun by itself might hurt her.

“Canales hasn’t got any proof it was me.” Though he was beginning to think Canales wasn’t interested in proof, just retaliation.

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.” He glanced in his rearview. A silver Scion sports car zipped between an ice truck and a minivan, changing lanes like the Devil himself were riding his bumper. “Shit.”

“What?” Madison twisted in her seat.

“Company.” Aiden slid a little lower and felt under the seat and flicked the leather strap holding his Glock in place. He prayed he wouldn’t need it, but neither would he hesitate to use it.

“Who is it?”

“Two of Canales’s boys.”

A second, lime-green STI with a spoiler that stuck up like a fin swerved through traffic, following the silver car closely. Did he try to outrun the two cars, or did he play it cool? The road stretched ahead of them with little opportunity to outmaneuver the other two, not to mention the slick conditions would make any fancy driving more difficult. He eased off the accelerator and slid into the right lane. The two cars broke free from the pack of vehicles and zoomed up behind him, one in either of the other two lanes.

“What’s going on?” Madison asked, her voice pitched high.

“Play it cool.” Inside, he was ready to throw a wrench at these idiots. It was one thing to race, to want to smell the rubber burn, but it was something else entirely to do it on a busy street with pedestrian traffic at every intersection. Hadn’t the Eleventh learned anything?

The two cars drew up alongside him. The silver Scion had its windows down. Aiden recognized the driver. He was one of the Eleventh’s fastest and cockiest drivers. He was young, maybe midtwenties, with short hair and a lanky, Cuban build.

All three cars eased to a stop at a red light. The road ahead of them broke free from the urban sprawl, and for about the span of a half mile, cut through a stretch of lowland with little to no other traffic. Belatedly, Aiden realized just where they were. The short distance was prime sprinting ground for short races. But those were usually at night, when the streets were empty.

The silver Scion revved his engine and Aiden sighed. Well, at least they weren’t trying to shoot holes in his Chevelle. The windshield wipers squeaked over the glass. The rain was letting up.

“Hold on and don’t scream.” He found the sweet spot on the accelerator, that point where the engine purred, waiting to be let loose on the open road, but didn’t quite burn her tires.

Madison gripped the door and braced her feet on the floorboard, as if preparing herself for a wreck.

Aiden ticked down the seconds, watching the light for the cross traffic, waiting for it to turn yellow. The green STI squealed, fishtailing at a standstill, while the silver Scion wheezed. Julian might like the foreign makes, but to Aiden they all sounded nasal and high-pitched.

The cross-traffic light blinked to yellow.

Aiden pressed his accelerator a bit more and the car began to vibrate.

Madison gasped, but whatever else she might have said or done faded into nothing.

It was Aiden, his car, and the road.

He could see the other two cars in his peripheral vision, but his focus narrowed on the lights.

The cross-traffic light flipped to red.

He locked his gaze on the light above his lane and shifted.

The light blinked green.

His Chevelle shot forward, the good ol’ American-made engine roared, but his start wasn’t fast enough. The green STI swerved in front of him while the silver Scion bolted forward, taking the lead.

Aiden gritted his teeth and took the center lane. The STI moved with him, cutting it so close Aiden lost sight of the car’s license plate. He shifted once more and jerked the car to the left. The STI lurched into the left lane, while Aiden pulled back into the center and slammed his foot on the accelerator. Too late, the green driver realized his error as Aiden cruised past.

The Scion driver hung not too far ahead of Aiden, waiting for his turn.

Adrenaline pumped through Aiden’s veins. The next light was in sight, less than a quarter mile to go. He drew even with the silver car, the STI hanging at his bumper. There was no way any of them could punch it to their top speeds and not barrel through the intersection.

He could shift and push it—but was it worth it?

Aiden took a deep breath and eased off the accelerator. The Scion driver matched him, and together the three braked at the light, engines hot.

Madison sucked down lungfuls of air.

He glanced at her. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. Was that fear? Or excitement?

“Who won?” she asked.

“No one won anything.”

The light changed to green and the Scion turned right, while Aiden and the STI continued along US-1. At the first opportunity, Aiden turned off the road and into a gas station.

“I feel like a broken record here, but what the hell are you doing?” Madison asked.

He held up a finger and pointed at the squad car that flew by. “Cops like to hang a few blocks over sometimes. We used to race this strip, then the police started showing up as soon as we did. I bet someone around here called the cops. Works in our favor.”

“Wow.” She stared at the cruiser, watching it close in on the green car.

Thunder nearly shook the car. Overhead, lightning zigzagged through the sky. A new wave of heavy rain began pelting the Florida coast.

“What about the silver car?” she asked.

“He’s long gone.” Aiden shifted into park and turned toward Madison. She was a problem, a complication he didn’t need and yet he had to face the uncomfortable reality that he wanted her. She hadn’t rejected him when he’d gone in for a kiss, but she also seemed to be caught up in the same web of attraction as him.

Madison licked her lips, and damn him if he didn’t track that movement, remembering the feel of her tongue tangling with his.

“I want to be straight with you,” he said.

“You mean you aren’t normally straight?”

He shook his head and she chuckled. Damn, she had a mouth on her. And he liked it. With Madison, he didn’t have to sugarcoat things or tone down who he was. She just took it in stride. He dug that.

“Sorry, sometimes stuff just pops out of my mouth. You scream heterosexual,” she said.

“Thanks, I think?” The momentary tension was broken. He relaxed by degrees.

“You’re welcome. Now what are we doing?”

“We’re going to work together, for how long, I don’t know.” Aiden had approached Madison with the truth, so it was the only way to proceed, even if he felt like a monster truck barreling through this. “I never intended . . . what I mean is we’re clearly attracted to each other. I don’t want you to think I’m playing you.”

“You would do that?” Her eyes grew round and her jaw dropped.

“People use all sorts of means to get what they want. I’m telling you that’s not what this is.” Why did she look so innocent in her shock? After what Madison had lived through, nothing should surprise her, and yet he’d clearly just opened her eyes to a new kind of deception.

She sat back in her seat. “That never occurred to me.”

“Maybe not right now, but at some point you’d have thought about it. You’re a smart girl.”

“Could have fooled me.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“I just told you I can’t help myself around you and you’re—disappointed?”

Madison’s mouth opened and closed. She shook her head and her cheeks grew pink. “That’s not what I meant.”

He reached across and took her hand—because he wanted to and hell, he needed to touch her, to see some of that spunk back in her gaze. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, and he could see a glimmer of the girl she’d once been. The cute cheerleader who’d just wanted what she’d never had. He rubbed his thumb across her pulse and the corners of her mouth curled up in a slight smile. She was the reason he did this job. Madison and others like her he helped extract from sticky situations. He’d let go of the idea of revenge as best he could. His sister wouldn’t want him to get caught up in it like Julian had.

There’d been a time in his life when he’d expected to return to the States, get a job and turn it into a career with cars, and somewhere along the way, he’d meet a girl. Probably one a lot like Madison with sass, someone who’d brighten his days until the horrors he’d seen were a distant memory. He’d always wanted a family, kids who would play with the nieces and nephews his sister would have. But that was in the past. It wasn’t the future for him now.

“I can’t offer you anything except that I will make sure Dustin is never a problem for you again. What happens between us—I can’t promise anything. Dates, normal stuff, I can’t do that.” Aiden wanted Evers put away, he wasn’t stupid enough to think it was a slam-dunk case. This was a long-haul war they were waging, and Madison could be a casualty—but not if he got her out of it and far away from him.

Her smile faded though she continued to study him. For several moments she didn’t speak, which bothered him. She was a mouthy, chatty thing. Her silence irritated his nerves.

“I’m not sure what made you think I was looking for more, but I’m not. I just got divorced. I’m not interested in relationships. Not now, at least.”

It was a reasonable reply, and yet he didn’t like it. She deserved more.

“The only thing I am in the market for is some fun, but since you clearly don’t know what that word means, well”—she shrugged—“you don’t have to worry about that.”

The way she purred the word fun, he knew exactly what she meant.

“Maybe you should show me?” Toying with her and the lust making his dick throb was not his brightest idea, but bottling it up would be worse.

“Me? Oh, I don’t know if you can handle it.” She placed her hand against her chest and batted her eyelashes. It was outrageous, a little silly, and yet he wanted to pounce on her, devour her, and spend the rest of the rainy day showing her exactly how much fun he could be.

Aiden leaned across the car. He should turn this part of the gig over to the twins or maybe one of the other guys. And yet, it wasn’t about to happen. He was keeping Madison all to himself.

Madison held her ground though he could see the way her hand trembled and her throat flexed as she swallowed. He invaded her space until he could smell the tropical scent that clung to her skin.

“Try me,” he said. And he hoped she did.

* * *

Madison strolled down the aisle between the storage units, forcing herself to concentrate on the numbers—and not the man keeping stride with her, holding the umbrella over her. Her hands hadn’t stopped shaking since their chat in the car. What had gotten into her? Her mouth had always been an issue, but around Aiden it got away from her. She still didn’t quite know what agreement they’d come to.

He brushed his hand along the small of her back and she sucked in a breath.

“Twelve-twelve?” He pointed at the metal rolling door ahead of them.

“That’s it.” She marched forward and knelt to unlock the door.

“Here, give me that. You’ll get wet.” Aiden shoved the umbrella at her and took the key before she could voice a protest.

She stared at his broad shoulders while he worked the lock. It was one thing to be attracted to him—she couldn’t help that. It was another thing to lean on him, to accept his help and even feel some gratitude that he was there. She didn’t know if she liked coming to rely on him.

Aiden got the lock off the door and rolled it up, holding it for her to step inside. He clicked on the flashlight he’d brought from the car and shone the beam around the long, narrow locker. There was furniture piled up on top of blocks, wrapped in plastic. A bunch of crates were neatly lined up on shelves.

“Where do we start?” he asked.

She gestured toward the messy stack of boxes and a few plastic bags piled together. “This is my stuff. Everything else is a friend’s.”

Madison took a deep breath and lifted the first box from the pile.

“How is it you’ve had something of Dustin’s for three years and he just now realized it?” Aiden asked.

“Well, uh, about six months ago, all my things were in one storage unit, but Dustin argued it was his. I had about two hours to get everything out of it before it became his property, so my girlfriends all came over and we divided everything up between their cars and they stashed stuff where they could. Closets, sheds, attics, garages, and a few of them already had stuff in storage units. I’d ridden with one of the girls to grab some burgers for everyone. While I was gone, Dustin’s goons showed up and had everyone kicked out of the unit and trashed everything else. I was pissed, so I went to the house we used to live at. He was moving out at the time, and we had a fight. He told me off and stormed out, so I grabbed some of his boxes to trash them.”

“But you kept them instead?”

She sighed. “Yeah, they got mixed up in everything else and by the time I realized what I had, I couldn’t exactly hand it over. I reboxed everything so I wouldn’t know what was in each box and randomly gave them to my friends to hide for me. It’s stupid, but I kind of feel guilty about it. I guess all he’s proven is that I still have a conscience.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” He stared into the top box without seeing its contents. “You don’t want to lose it. Trust me.”

Madison watched him, the distant, hard expression, the way his lips compressed into a thin line. What had he lost?

“Who are they?” Aiden lifted a picture frame out of the box. Three teenage girls with ponytails and bows in their hair smiled back.

She opened her mouth and closed it. The picture had sat on her dresser for years before she’d boxed it up. She’d probably passed it a thousand times without much thought, and yet, the eyes of the girl on the right speared her.

“That’s my sister and her two best friends.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Well, they were her friends then. I haven’t seen her in . . . shit. Ten years.”

“Ten years? Why?” Aiden flipped through the rest of the box and set it aside, stowing the picture away with the rest.

“My mother didn’t exactly approve of her eighteen-year-old daughter marrying a man thirteen years older. She kicked me out the night I told her Dustin and I were getting married. God, that’s the last time I saw her. When I came by a few days later to get my stuff it was just my little sisters. They cried and Amanda gave me her teddy bear, she was barely ten and still slept with it. Emily, the one in the picture, she barely spoke to me.” Madison tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling, willing the unshed tears to dry up.

The memories opened up, fresh and full of punch. The look in her mother’s eye when she’d proudly displayed her engagement ring had made Madison’s joy wither, but she’d been so determined to be happy. “Mom was so angry. Dad left not long after Amanda was born, and Mom did everything to raise us. Looking back, I think she thought she’d failed me because it was pretty obvious I was only after Dustin’s money and what I thought was a better life. Mom raised me better than that. Now, I’ve lost that life and them.”

She moved a few things around in the box without really seeing them.

Great, just unload on the guy, why don’t you? Want to handle the rest of my problems too?

Madison took a deep breath and packed her mistakes back into a closet in the back of her mind. She’d deal with it eventually. When she’d made something of herself. Got a degree. Then she’d find her family and make things right—if they’d have anything to do with her.

“It’s hard being cut off from family,” Aiden said quietly, sifting through another box.

She went very still, afraid to breathe for fear he’d stop.

“I haven’t spoken to mine in years. They blame me for—things. About the only person who acknowledges me is my grandmother, but she doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks.” He smiled, and she had to wonder what the old woman was like. Did she have his eyes? Would he smile for her?

“Why don’t they talk to you?” She set her box aside and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Aiden stepped back, hands on his hips, and surveyed the small pile of boxes they’d gone through. They were all her things, personal mementos, keepsakes of a life she’d left behind. The silence stretched on for a few moments.

He wasn’t going to tell her.

She couldn’t blame him. They didn’t know each other. Not really.

Madison stood and plopped her box back on the stack. She straightened the boxes, resisting the urge to grab the picture of Amanda. It wasn’t like she had any place to put it.

“My sister was murdered and my family blames me for it.”

She turned toward him, his words on repeat while she processed their meaning. Murdered? As in kicked the bucket? Dead?

“You didn’t kill her.” Madison didn’t believe for an instant he was involved. She had no doubt Aiden was capable of doling out death, but not to his sister.

“No, but I’m the one who asked her husband for help with something I shouldn’t have.” His expression was shuttered. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he wouldn’t share more.

“That . . . that sucks.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s probably better this way.”

Aiden wore responsibility like she wore crash pads. It protected him, insulating him from the things he was missing out on. All for what? This thing with Michael Evers?

“Because of what you do?”

Aiden glanced at her, his gaze narrowing.

She straightened her spine and stared right back at him. “I might not be a suspicious person, but I’m not blind. You’re doing something dangerous. You can’t date. Your family’s better off away from you. What’s going on?”

He sighed heavily and for a moment she glimpsed his pain.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” he said.

“Probably. But I’m involved.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be.”

Her heart hurt for him.

“That’s why you do this, isn’t it? You’re helping people. I’m not the first, am I?”

His silence was all the answer she needed. She couldn’t guess at the life Aiden lived, but it seemed pretty lonely.